His voice trailed off as he studied the sea. Along the coast on either side, the pale early moon glinted off the breakers that crashed in with a relentless rhythm. Yes, a bomb had exploded somewhere up there in space, but the Aegean, even the jagged rocks around the island, still retained their timeless serenity. The Greek islands. He never wanted to leave. Right now, though, he was trying to work up his nerve to talk seriously with Dr. Cally Andros—and the words weren't coming. How to start . . .?
"Are you still here?" She finally broke his reverie. "Or are you just gazing off."
"Sorry about that." He clicked back. "I was thinking. Wondering if you'd still be interested in . . . in what we talked about yesterday."
"What?" She looked puzzled, then, "Oh, you mean—"
“Taking a sail with an old, slightly beat-up yacht-charter operator."
"You're beat up, there's no denying it." She laughed. "I hope you keep your boats in better shape." She looked him over and thought again how much he reminded her of Alan. The mistake that affair represented was not one to be repeated blindly. Then again . . . "But I don't consider you old. Experienced, maybe, but still functioning."
"Is that supposed to mean yes?"
"It's more like a maybe." She touched his hand. "What were you thinking about, exactly?"
"What else? The Odyssey thing." He looked out at the horizon, then back. "Seems to me it deserves another try.
Oh, the pearl seas are yonder,