Loe raamatut: «Their Greek Island Reunion»

Their Greek Island Reunion
Carol Grace

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Aunt Alyce,

who’s the inspiration for Olivia’s aunt, and for the

other Kimpton sisters—Aunt Mary and Aunt Jane.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

OLIVIA and Jack were the perfect couple. Same profession, same goals, same love of ancient ruins. Sure, there were a few tiny differences. He was a night owl, she was always up early. But nothing major. It was clear from the start they were meant for each other. Anyone in the same room with them could feel the electricity in the air.

They met in June and had the perfect wedding in September. Although the bouquets of lilies didn’t arrive at the church until after the ceremony, the photographer, Enzo, didn’t speak English, the groom’s brother overslept and the whole party got lost on the walk through the village from the church to the reception, Olivia remembered it as the happiest day of her life.

She forgot the little glitches, but she remembered how ruggedly handsome Jack had looked in his tux, the white shirt contrasting with his sun-bronzed skin. She forgot about the ring bearer tripping over his feet, but she’d never forget floating down the aisle in her grandmother’s white silk dress to the music from the string quartet.

When Jack put the ring on her finger that was inscribed with the date and their initials, he whispered, “Forever.”

Then the priest said, “You may kiss the bride,” in Italian and Jack kissed her so passionately there was a collective “Ahhh” in the church. Olivia’s eyes overflowed with happy tears when they left the church under a shower of rose petals.

They finally arrived at the reception on the beach at Positano, just steps from the water. No overdone rococo decor at the hotel, it was all Italian minimalism. By then the hem of Olivia’s silk crepe gown was dusty, and tendrils had escaped from her chignon.

“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Oakley,” Jack said when they sat down at the table, and the waiters started pouring champagne for everyone. He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I can’t believe today you’re mine, all mine.”

“Believe it, Mr. Oakley,” she said, smiling and bubbling over with happiness. “Not just today, but yours until we’re old and gray.”

“Until we’re too old to dig anymore.”

“Until our grandchildren have to take over and write our memoirs for us,” she said.

“About how you uncovered the House of the Vestals in Pompeii,” he said proudly.

“And you discovered the Royal Burials at Nimrud,” she said.

“Speaking of grandchildren,” he said, “how many kids should we have?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Enough to help carry our trowels and picks and shovels at least.”

“Enough to take notes for us and dig, dig, dig,” he added.

“What if they hate old stuff?” she said, suddenly worried. “What if they refuse to travel with us? They only want to stay home and play video games with their friends?”

He shook his head. “Not possible. They’ll be just like you. Adventurous, gorgeous, smart and tough. What are we waiting for? I could use some help. Let’s get started making some of these little wonders.”

“Now?” She looked around the room filled with friends and relatives who’d flown in from around the world to share this day with them.

“Tonight in our room up there above the town, with the lemon trees outside the window and the sound of the sea below.” He brushed her lips with his. “Is it a date?”

She nodded. If he’d said “now,” she would have gone with him. Anywhere. Anytime. She wanted what he wanted. Love, marriage, kids, a career, success, recognition. But most of all she wanted him. It didn’t matter that they had no time for a honeymoon now. They had a whole lifetime together. Tomorrow they had to fly straight home to start teaching classes for the fall semester.

She was almost thirty. Jack a few years older. Why postpone having children? They wouldn’t let kids interfere with their careers. Kids who looked like Jack, who had his good nature, his patience, his tenacity and sense of humor would only add to their happiness and enrich their lives. Jack would make a great dad.

But life is what happens when you’re making other plans, and Olivia didn’t get pregnant. They tried but it just didn’t happen. She even quit teaching one semester. Not only did she not get pregnant, she got depressed. She felt like a failure. Jack didn’t blame her; she blamed herself. He did everything he could to help her cope. Took part of her course load, ordered takeout so she didn’t have to cook and hired a cleaning service. But there was only so much he could do.

She took the same path he did. Work, work, work. It hurt him to watch her try and fail to conceive. After all, the doctors said there was nothing wrong with her, nothing wrong with him. He couldn’t help her. So he turned to the only part of his life he could control—his classes and his research at the university. He finally shut himself off from her and her pain. After a while they both carefully avoided mentioning the kids they wanted so badly.

It was a relief for Olivia to be back at work. To face the challenges of teaching new courses and writing papers. She was tired of “taking it easy.” She was tired of trying to get pregnant. She was even more tired of failing. She was used to success. She worked harder than ever. She worked late and long. She got promoted to full professor at the university. Totally consumed with her career, she kept Jack at arm’s length. Seeing him reminded her of what she couldn’t do. He might act as if he didn’t care about having a baby, but she knew he did.

Jack was proud of Olivia’s accomplishments, but he thought she was driving herself too far and too fast. He thought she should take a break.

A break? That’s what she didn’t dare do. Now she was in charge of her own digs, which didn’t coincide with Jack’s. Some summers they didn’t see much of each other. Even when they were both at home their paths didn’t cross very often. It was easier that way.

When Jack got an offer from California University to head the Archaeology Department there, she didn’t go with him. The reason she gave anyone who asked was that the job they offered her wasn’t as good as the one she had. The truth was he never really asked her to go. She thought he didn’t care if she went or not. They’d been separated emotionally for a long time. What did it matter if the separation became geographical as well?

He thought she cared more about her career than him. He thought she’d given up trying to have a baby. He was right about that. He thought she didn’t love him anymore. He was wrong about that.

CHAPTER ONE

Two Years Later

OLIVIA was seasick. The small ferry from Piraeus rolled and pitched in the Aegean Sea. No stabilizers on this old tub. Not many passengers except for the members of their expedition who’d all gone inside for the two-hour ride. She’d headed straight for the rail, taking large gulps of fresh air, trying to keep down the small breakfast she’d eaten on the dock before the boat left.

Keeping her breakfast down was not the only challenge Olivia faced. Even more difficult would be keeping the memories of her last trip to Hermapolis at bay. It was seven years ago, the summer she’d met Jack. A dream opportunity for a new young professor like herself to dig for a rare, multilayered tomb dating back to Alexander the Great.

She hadn’t found the burial chamber she was looking for, but she’d found Jack Oakley, smart, tough, brave, ambitious, and so gorgeous he had taken her breath away. Sparks flew. Passion erupted like Vesuvius, the volcano that towered over Pompeii. Theirs was an instant attraction. Impossible to deny. Obvious to everyone within a few yards that they’d fallen madly in love. They were married in Italy in the fall.

Now she was back. Older and wiser. Another chance to dig for the tomb, to find some clay pots, jewelry or copper coins and to finally discover who was buried there. While she was there, she’d have a chance to face the site where she’d met Jack and make sure she was over him for good. She’d better be since she’d filed for divorce in the spring. It was just a formality, because their marriage existed only on paper.

She’d given the marriage her all; they both had. She hadn’t heard from Jack since she’d filed, but he must know as well as she did there was nothing left of their union. It was time to make it official.

In her field, when she’d done her best and worked hard, she’d gotten praised and promoted for her efforts. No wonder she went back to work. On this dig she could add to her list of accomplishments. She’d take advantage of the last chance to uncover this site before the owners closed it. She propped her elbows on the railing and kept her eyes on the horizon.

“Feeling better?”

She whirled around. She must be hallucinating. It couldn’t be Jack. If he was part of the team, she would have known. She would have seen his name on the list and she never would have come, no matter how tempting the chance to find the lost tomb.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, bracing herself against the railing so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall on her face.

“Same thing as you are. Heading for Hermapolis to dig for old bones. Chasing Alexander the Great. Trying to find out more about Macedonian culture.” He gave her one of his old smiles that used to melt her bones. No longer. Never again. She was immune. She was a different person. With a stone wall around her heart.

“Oh, you mean now?” he asked. “I’m bringing you some tea and crackers. You always had a weak stomach.”

She straightened and took a deep breath. “I did not. Well, only when the sea is rough.”

“The first time I saw you, you were hanging over the rail. Could have been this rail right here.”

He would have to remind her of that. Then as now he’d gone to get her something to settle her stomach. How could she resist a guy who’d do something like that for a total stranger? She’d immediately felt better. It wasn’t so much the tea, it was having a good-looking man distract her. And Jack was that kind of man, no doubt about that. Dark wind-blown hair, blue knit polo that matched his eyes, khakis and bare feet in Top-Siders. She couldn’t tear her eyes away then and she couldn’t do it now. And she did try.

He handed her the tea and the crackers, then pointed to a bench on the deck. “Sit down,” he said.

She sat and sipped her tea, grateful to have something to do besides stare at her husband. Ex-husband. Separated husband. Estranged husband. Nothing quite fit. They weren’t divorced yet, but they certainly weren’t together. She hoped no one on the dig thought they were.

“You haven’t told me…” she said.

“Yes, I did. I’m here to finish what I started seven years ago.”

Olivia held her breath. What did he mean? Only that he was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of that tomb on the farmer’s field. So close and yet so far. So tantalizing every archaeologist in his right mind would give anything to get access to it. Just as she was. Nothing personal. Definitely not. He didn’t mean her. He was talking about their work.

“In other words, we’re all in this together. Excavating Hermapolis,” he said. “Should be fun.”

Fun? To work with your ex at the same place where you met? That was not her idea of fun. That was her idea of torture. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on the team?” she demanded.

“Thought you might not come.”

He knew perfectly well she wouldn’t have come. Not after what he’d said before he left her. Not after what she’d done. Now was not the time to admit it. Now was the time to play it cool. “Of course I would. This could be the most monumental tomb of its kind ever found in Greece, as you well know. Your being part of the team is completely irrelevant to me,” she said, proud of herself for sounding so detached. “Why would I give up a chance to look for the missing clay pots or the small idols?” Liar. She’d even given up trying to tear open the packet of crackers because her hands were shaking so badly. How she wished he was irrelevant. Maybe someday. But not today, that was clear.

He took the crackers out of her hand and ripped the package open. He noticed she had a problem. He never missed anything, damn him.

“So I still mean nothing to you,” he said. “The only thing you care about is your research.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice, completely unjustified. What was he bitter about? Maybe it was the divorce. But who’d walked out? Not her. He sounded so casual, so all-knowing, she wanted to smack him on the face.

“That’s why you wouldn’t come with me to California,” he said.

“You know why I didn’t go with you,” she said, glaring at him. “First you didn’t ask me to come. Second I had nothing to do there of any significance and third…”

“I didn’t ask you to come,” he said, “because even I had to make an appointment with your secretary to see you. You were that busy. You were always working.”

“Oh, and you were so available? You signed up for every committee. You even went in on weekends.”

“I had nothing better to do. You weren’t around. I know, you loved your job. It was important to you, and you were good at it. I got that. What I didn’t get was your indifference. You couldn’t care less that I got that offer.”

“That’s not true. I was proud of you. It was a plum job.”

“Oh, right. You were so proud you didn’t even come to my farewell dinner the department threw for me.”

“I told you…”

“You told me you were busy. You were always busy. You couldn’t have spared a few hours?”

“Why? You didn’t need me there to tell you what a fantastic job you’d done for the university and how much they were going to miss you. I’m sure you heard it over and over from everyone else. Your ego just couldn’t get enough.”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe so, but it would have been nice to hear it from you. It would have been nice to hear something from you. Instead I got a card from you saying ‘Good Luck.’ You weren’t sorry to see me go, you were relieved.”

“Don’t tell me what I was. You have no idea what I felt.” He couldn’t know how it hurt to see him packing up and driving away. She wasn’t made of stone. Not then, anyway. They were getting into dangerous territory by rehashing old problems now. She wasn’t proud of how she’d acted the day he left or what she’d done to close the chapter on their life together.

“Look, Jack, now’s really not the time to get into what happened then. It’s history,” she said. “All I ask is next time you join a dig I’m on just let me know.”

“Why, so you can back out again?”

That was exactly what she’d do. What she should have done this time. But it was too late now, so she’d better make the best of it. “Why would I do that?” she asked casually. “The past is in the past. We had some good times, we worked well together. There’s no reason why we can’t do it again.” Don’t mention the bad times. Don’t even go there.

Olivia was proud of herself. She sounded so rational, so over Jack. If she thought she was, it took ten minutes to tell her she wasn’t. It was all this pent-up emotion, all the bottled-up anger. And maybe some unfinished business. If only she could stop trembling on the inside. Stop the memories from crowding in on her.

“That’s good to know,” he said calmly. “It will make the summer easier for both of us. All it takes is an ability to separate the brain from the emotions.”

How many times had she heard him say that? She used to say it wasn’t possible, while he insisted it was. Why argue? Arguing with Jack was pointless and painful. No one won. Everyone lost. “Nothing to it,” she agreed.

“Now that we’ve settled that.” He sat next to her and stretched his legs out in front of him as if they were casual acquaintances instead of a married couple who’d been at each other’s throats a few minutes ago with recriminations and accusations.

How could he be so nonchalant? Because he didn’t care. He’d moved on. Really moved on. She had to show him she’d done the same. She felt his eyes on her. He was scrutinizing her as if he were trying to classify her. Late Roman or Hellenistic. “You look better,” he said.

“Thanks,” she muttered. But she wondered, did he mean better than a few minutes ago or better than two years ago? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking. What did it matter what he thought? Their marriage was over. “It’s good we’re working together again,” he said. “One more time.”

One more time? And then what? Would he sign those papers? Was he even going to acknowledge getting them? As of now he was treating her as if she was just another team member he had to work with. A difficult team member who had to be humored. Not someone who’d meant everything to him. Or so he’d said. Now she was someone who had to be treated carefully or she’d fly off the handle. It shouldn’t bother her. But it did. She couldn’t go on being tied to him legally but living apart.

She wanted to shake him. She wanted to scream, We met on this island. Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We’re married. But in name only. You have to admit it’s over. We can’t go on like this. Sign the papers. Let’s stop pretending. Of course she didn’t. “I read your article in Archaeology Digest,” she said, desperately looking to change the subject. “Interesting conclusion.” She didn’t say wrong conclusion, but that’s what she meant and he knew it.

His eyes glittered like the blue Aegean. Jack loved a challenge. That much hadn’t changed. “That means you don’t agree with me, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“That the Age of the Pharaohs was brought about by climate change? That’s ridiculous. You have no proof.”

“Nobody has proof of anything. I thought I made a good case for it.”

She shook her head. “In your dreams.”

“Then what’s your theory? Or haven’t you got one?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“Of course it does. We always had some good discussions. No reason to quit now. I value your opinion, you know that.” He put his arm on the back of the bench where it brushed against her shoulders. A small gesture, so familiar that it caused an ache that spread all the way to her heart. If he valued her opinions so much, why hadn’t he asked for them in the two years he’d been gone? She’d barely heard a word from him.

He’d reminded her of the heated discussions they’d had about work, yes. Those were stimulating. But about their personal problems? No one mentioned those. That subject was off-limits. They’d both said things they shouldn’t have. Things that left wounds too deep to forget. At least for her.

Suddenly the summer stretched ahead of her like a long road full of potholes. Dangerous, deep holes a person could fall into and never get out of. She’d have to try to ignore Jack as much as possible. She could talk to him if it was about work. She’d be walking a tightrope for more than two months. But she could do it. She had to.

If she could walk the tightrope and not fall off, she could get a lot out of this dig. There was the chance of finding an important tomb on this island, buried under thousands of years of civilization. She would get an article out of it, maybe a book. She would get along with Jack. She would forget the past. But right now he was so close she could smell the same citrus aftershave he always wore. He was too close for comfort.

She shifted away from him. She had to treat Jack like a colleague and nothing more. Just the way she treated everyone else on this dig, including Marilyn Osborne, a middle-aged archaeologist from the University of Pittsburgh who was ambling toward them across the deck.

“How are you feeling?” she asked Olivia.

“Fine, thank you,” she said stiffly. She did not want anyone to think she had any health problems.

“As Homer said, ‘Beware the stormy seas of May.’ Have you been to the island before?” Marilyn asked.

Olivia exchanged a brief glance with Jack. What was she supposed to say? What had he already said?

“Well, yes, a few years ago,” she said. “Very intriguing site. I’m looking forward to getting back.”

Jack stood. “I’m going to the snack bar. Can I bring you something, Marilyn?”

Marilyn shook her head.

He turned to Olivia. “More tea, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip. How dare he call her sweetheart. If she could have kicked him in the shin without Marilyn noticing, she would have.

“No, thank you,” she said. How like him to skip out when the conversation got dicey. How like him to act as if everything was just dandy between them. How like him to pretend he’d never gotten those divorce papers.

Marilyn took Jack’s place on the bench. As soon as Jack had disappeared down the steps to the lower deck, she spoke. “So I heard that you two are married, right? Did you have any idea that he would be coming along?”

“Technically yes, but we’re actually separated. In the process of getting divorced. We…Jack’s at California U and I’m at Santa Clarita.”

“I had no idea. I hope it won’t be awkward.”

“No, of course not. We’ve worked together before. We get along just fine.” Olivia gave Marilyn what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“That’s very professional of you,” Marilyn said. “I could never do it. Married seventeen years. Roger is a stay-at-home dad. Fortunately for me because two of our boys are teenagers now. You know how that is.”

“Not really,” Olivia said. She felt the nausea returning. Was it the thought of teenage children that she didn’t have and never would have? The idea of being a stay-at-home parent which she wasn’t and never would be? Or was it simply the boat rocking a little more than usual?

“No children?”

Olivia stood up and raced for the side of the ship. No one had asked her that question for years. If she hadn’t run smack-dab into Jack on his way back she would have made it. Instead she threw up all over his shoes.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” she said, a hot flush covering her cheeks.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “What happened? I thought you were okay.”

Somebody mentioned children.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I do have a weak stomach. How much longer before we dock?”

Jack glanced toward the horizon, thinking he might catch a glimpse of the craggy outline of Hermapolis.

“That’s strange,” he muttered as he walked over to the railing.

Olivia followed him. “What is?”

Thank God she was feeling better. He couldn’t stand to see her suffer. It reminded him of the last year they’d been together. She’d tried to bottle up her feelings. But he knew what she was going through. The wall she’d put up between them didn’t make it any easier to help her get through it. She always masked her pain so no one would feel sorry for her. Especially him.

He’d tried to help her. But she had turned her back on him. Finally he gave up and took the job at Cal. He still wondered if he’d done the right thing. If he maybe should have tried harder to make their marriage work. He was determined he was going to give it his best shot this summer. If it didn’t work for them here on this beautiful island, there was no hope.

He cast a curious look at the horizon. “We’re completely out of sight of any land at all. That doesn’t happen very often in the Aegean. No other boats around, either. I need to see a map.”

Suddenly from somewhere below decks there was a severe, loud thump followed by a nasty vibration that threw Olivia headlong into his arms. He only had a moment to reflect how natural and how right it felt to hold her. After all this time, yet it seemed like yesterday. The memories came rushing back. How soft she was. How sweet she smelled.

“What was that?” she asked, jerking out of his arms so fast he wondered if she’d really been there at all, or was it a dream? How many times he’d dreamed she’d come back to him only to wake up and find she was still six hundred miles away. It might have been six thousand. Which was why he’d arranged this dig. To give them one more chance before he gave up and gave her what she wanted.

“Feels like something in the engine room just broke,” he said, grasping the railing with one hand and running the other hand through his hair. “I hope they haven’t thrown a connecting rod. That would be…bad.” But even as he spoke, the ungainly boat was quickly losing its headway, and within a minute it was dead in the water. Not good. Not good at all.

The deck was immediately full of passengers who came running out from inside the cabin. The members of their group clustered around him, everyone talking at once.

“Jack, what happened?”

“What should we do?”

“Why have we stopped?”

“Calm down, everyone,” he said. “I’m going in to speak to the captain. In the meantime, just in case, let’s put on our life jackets.” He wasn’t the head of this expedition, the esteemed scholar Dr. Thaddeus Robbins was, but right now Robbins was standing on the deck, scratching his head and looking worried.

When there was a vacuum, Jack wasn’t averse to stepping in. It was always good form to sound calm and unruffled, but truthfully, he knew it was always best to be prepared.

He threw back the cover of the bench they’d been sitting on, exposing a pile of orange life vests.

“Everyone take one,” he ordered, pulling them out and throwing one to each person in the group. Olivia got hers fastened first and was helping the others.

“Oh my God,” one of the younger female grad students said, “we are going down, aren’t we?”

“Not yet,” Jack said calmly. “But whatever’s happening, my guess is we’re going to be here for a while. That jolt didn’t feel like something you could fix with a screwdriver.” Make light of it. Keep everyone from panicking. That was rule number one.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Greek passenger try to make a call on her cell phone and apparently give up. Not a good sign if they needed to call for help.

“Worst-case scenario,” he told the group. “They’ll call for a tug and tow us to the island. We might miss dinner tonight, but Greeks eat late. Chances are we’ll make it in time.”

“Then why the life jackets?” Marilyn asked, fumbling with the straps when Olivia reached out and snapped them in place for her. A few minutes ago Olivia had been pale and shaken, but you’d never know it now. She was a rock in a storm. Always able to rise to any occasion, except when their marriage was at stake. That was another matter. She’d never tried to talk him out of leaving.

“Just better to be prepared,” he said. Though nothing had prepared him for their marriage to fail. He thought love was enough. How wrong he was.

The steady rumble of the ferry’s engine that had lulled Jack into a false sense of well-being and security had now disappeared. It was an eerie and unsettling quiet that he hoped the others hadn’t noticed. Except for Olivia. He’d never been able to put anything over on her. Just a glance told him she understood just how serious the situation was.

He looked around. Where’s the crew? he wondered. Gone below maybe. Soon there’d be an announcement telling them what was going on. It would be in Greek, but someone would translate, maybe Olivia. She was amazing with languages. She was amazing at many things. That was another reason he was glad she was along. Fortunately he had no trouble separating his personal and professional life.

No problem for him to draw a line between his emotions and his intellect. Until his marriage failed. He’d never failed at anything before. Until he failed at the most important thing in his life. This was his last chance to salvage it, to make it right. To heal the rift between them. To put his life back together again. To get her to reconsider.

He looked around. There she was, helping Dr. Robbins and then other passengers with their life jackets. Most were total strangers. She seemed to be completely over her seasickness. Or she was putting up a good front. She was good at that. She could be hurting inside and still function normally. But he knew. He always knew.

Minutes passed. No announcement came and no crewmen appeared. Instead an ugly black cloud of oily smoke erupted from a vent. He herded the group to the other side of the boat.

Olivia appeared at his side. “What does that mean?” she asked with a worried glance at the billowing smoke.

“Nothing good,” he said with a frown. “A blown engine. A fire in the engine room maybe.”

“Fire?” Her eyes widened. “That means lifeboats.”

He nodded. He knew she’d stay calm no matter what. Other women might have fallen apart, but not Olivia. That was one reason why there’d never been any other woman for him. No one compared to Olivia.

“What about those inflatable rafts?” Olivia asked, pointing to some white capsules. “Aren’t they supposed to automatically inflate when they hit the water?”

“Supposed to, yes. But will they? I hope so.” He spoke quietly. He didn’t want anyone else to hear him expressing his doubts. She was the only one he’d trust not to panic.

“I’ve read stories about ferries capsizing,” she said.

He nodded grimly. He’d read the same stories. The crew gets scared and jumps overboard. Passengers are left on their own.

“Don’t worry,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll take care of it.”

She nodded. She’d been steady during the cave-in on Thira. She’d even bailed the group out when the site was flooded on Rhodes. Then there were the wild tigers in Ache Province. Whatever happened, he could count on her. While others worried about carbon dating and finding cracked vases, it was the Oakleys who’d handle any emergencies that came up. And they always came up at least once during a dig.