Then why don't we go down and have a look?" he mused. "Figure out if there's anything we can liberate."
That's fine with me." She sighed, not sounding as though
she meant it. "All we have to do is manage to get down there without being spotted and killed."
"I don't know how much more excitement I can take." He definitely felt out of control, human prey, and he hated every minute of it.
"That goes for me, too." But she was already switching off the workstation.
By now the trek down the hill was getting to be all too familiar—the bristly Greek scrub, the rough outcroppings. Some night birds twittered nervously, but otherwise only their labored breathing broke the silence. The harshness of the terrain made him think again about the Greek character, ancient and modern. To stand up to a land like this, you had to be tough.
Which brought his thoughts again to the dark-haired woman by his side. Once in a while you ran across somebody with whom you absolutely clicked. He believed in love at first sight—he had been an incorrigible romantic all his life—and this was definitely the feeling he had now. And he thought— well, hoped—she felt the same. Could it be true? Maybe it was just the fact they were working together. They were both strong-willed, and he sensed real potential for friction.
"What are you going to do when this is all over?" she was asking, a wistful tone entering her voice. "Just go back to sailing?"
"You sound as though you already assume it's going to be over." He laughed, in spite of himself. Was she thinking the same thing? "I admire your optimism. But to tell you the truth, if we live through this, I'm hoping to try my Odyssey trek all over again." He took her hand as they navigated the stones. "Want to come along? Make it a twosome?"
"Maybe." Her tone said she was intrigued, and she didn't drop his hand. "It sounded pretty heroic."