Название | Their Greek Island Reunion |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Carol Grace |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“What about you, Jack?” one of the students yelled.
“I’ll get off. Just don’t rock the boat. When you hit the water, unhook the winch cables, front and back. Do you understand?”
The guy yelled something that sounded affirmative. Jack caught Olivia’s eye and she definitely didn’t look happy.
“If you don’t do it, the boat will be pulled down with the ferry,” he shouted at her. “This is important. Got it?”
He pointed to the cables. Olivia, looking pale and determined, nodded. Sure, she was mad at him, but she’d do what she had to do. “Good girl,” he muttered under his breath.
The lifeboat hit the water. Olivia was bounced off her seat and came down again with a thud. Damn Jack for playing the hero. He should be in this boat with them. They needed him. As usual, he took charge, did whatever he damn well pleased, thinking he knew what was best for everyone. She followed his directions, struggling with the cable hook until it came free.
She looked up at him. He gave her a thumbs-up and she heaved a sigh of relief. He’d figure out a way to join them. The hook banged against the side of the ferry. She glanced at the college kid to make sure he’d released the cable at the other end. He had.
She looked up again. Now where was he? The deck was engulfed in smoke and flames. Two men had found the oars in the lifeboat and were paddling like mad, putting space between the lifeboat and the ferry.
“Wait,” she cried. Her throat was raw. Her voice shook. “Stop. We can’t leave without Jack.”
“We have to get away before the ship capsizes,” someone next to her said. “If he’s still up there, he’ll jump.”
The lifeboat drifted away from the stricken ferry as a black column of smoke rose into the sky. A second lifeboat appeared from around the ship’s stern. Frantic, Olivia scanned the passengers, but Jack wasn’t among them. Nearly hysterical, she looked up at the ship, which was listing at a terrifying angle. There he was, still on board, helping a straggler with his life vest.
“Jack, jump!” she shouted. “It’s going down. Get off!” She watched as Jack helped the old man crawl over the railing and drop into the water, all in slow motion. Then almost methodically, Jack checked the straps on his own life vest. Her heart in her throat, she watched while he climbed onto the railing and jumped into the water. The deck disappeared in smoke. Furious with him, she felt helpless tears run down her face. He was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
THE HOTEL Argos was doing its best to cope with the arrival of the survivors of the ferry accident, the archaeology team and their usual clientele of summer tourists. Clearly the little hotel high on the hill overlooking the harbor was stretched almost beyond its capability. Though harried, Helen Marinokou, the longtime owner, made everyone feel welcome, and from the kitchen came the comforting smells of roasting meats and oven-baked pastas.
The charm of the wood-paneled dining room and the mouthwatering platters of food were lost on Olivia. She sat at a long table in the corner, surrounded by the members of the group, her eyes glued to the door, her stomach in knots, unable to eat even a bite of the traditional mezedes like green peppers and octopus salad the waitress set in the middle of the table. Yes, they were all there, picked up by a passing fishing boat and taken to the island. All but Jack.
Fred Staples, one of the young grad students from Jack’s university, poured glasses of retsina, the pineresin-flavored wine, for everyone at the table. When Olivia didn’t lift her glass for the toast, he gave her a puzzled look.
“You’re not worried about Dr. Oakley, are you?” he asked. “He’ll be along on the next rescue boat. Or he’ll swim to shore. I’ve been on digs with him before. Never missed a day of work. Blistering heat or hail storm. He’s amazing.”
Olivia managed a weak smile. Amazing, he was. At least to his students. They worshipped him. But he wasn’t indestructible. No one was. Not even Jack. He often said he had nine lives, but by now he must have used them up. This wasn’t the first time he’d risked his life during one of their adventures. But it was the last as far as she was concerned. The last one she’d be party to. She’d had it with Jack and his heroics.
“I’m sure he will,” she said. But she wasn’t sure at all. No one had seen him jump into the smoke and flames the way she had. No one had seen him since. No one but she knew exactly what Jack was capable of or would admit that even he was vulnerable. He was human, after all.
She’d pleaded with the captain of the fishing boat that picked them up to go back to the sinking ferry to look for him. But he refused, saying they were full but other boats were still out there looking for survivors. And not to worry about her husband. Easy for him to say.
She was sick of worrying about Jack, sick of watching him risk his life. If they weren’t married, she’d finally be able to break this bond between them and stop worrying, stop thinking about him and stop wondering what he was doing or if he was alive.
She couldn’t sit there another minute while she pictured Jack at the bottom of the sea or fighting off sharks. Was it her imagination or were the others looking at her, thinking she should be out searching for him, or at least down at the dock watching for the next boat?
Too nervous to stay there while everyone talked and laughed and ate and drank as if it was a normal dinner, she jumped up from the table and edged her way across the noisy, crowded dining room. She’d almost reached the door when Jack walked in. His face was caked with grime, he was wearing somebody else’s white T-shirt and dirty overalls, as well as his usual cocky grin. She gasped and grabbed a fistful of his grimy shirt.
“Where have you been?” she demanded.
“Oh, just out for a swim. Miss me?” he asked.
“No.” She dropped her hands. “Yes.”
“Sorry I’m late.” He acted as if he’d just arrived at a faculty cocktail party. “Save dinner for me?”
Olivia choked back a storm of tears and clenched her jaw to keep from exploding in angry frustration. “Why didn’t you come with us?” she demanded. “What’s wrong with you? Did you have to wait for every last passenger to get off? Don’t you realize that this group depends on you?”
“Me? Come on, Olivia, it’s Dr. Robbins who is the head of this dig.”
Olivia looked over her shoulder at the man he was talking about. Dr. Robbins was enjoying a glass of wine at a table in the corner as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Dr. Robbins might be renowned in his field, but he’s all but retired,” she muttered. “He’s no help at all in a crisis. This whole expedition would be lost without…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” What good did it do to rant and rave? Jack would do what he had to do. He always did, he always would. She’d run out of steam and words.
“Calm down,” Jack said, taking her hands in his.
“Calm down?” she sputtered. “That’s easy for you to say. You knew where you were. We didn’t. We thought you were at the bottom of the sea. Isn’t it time you thought about someone besides yourself?”
“I was. I was thinking about you nonstop. I was thinking if I didn’t make it, you’d have to uncover that tomb by yourself. You’d get first crack at the coins and the jewelry and take all the credit. Then you’d write all the articles, get your name in National Geographic, give papers at the conferences. You think I’d let that happen?” he asked with a half smile. “Not a chance.
“Nope, I got picked up by a very nice fisherman in a trawler who supplied me with the dry clothes I’m wearing. Before that I thought I might have to swim to shore. Every time I saw a shark or a wave hit me in the face, I thought about you and what you’d do if I didn’t show up. You might say the thought of you finding those artifacts and discovering