The man turned around, trapped in his confusion, the bewilderment in his dark eyes making him even more attractive. She couldn’t fail to recognise him. Because, of course, it had to be him. At least he wasn’t naked this time. He wore an outfit that cost more than Ari’s car, possibly when it was new, long before she owned it.
‘You?’ he gasped. ‘What are you—?’ He seemed to run out of words, probably aware, as she was, that she was enjoying this particular moment a bit too much.
‘Hello again, Ariel,’ she said with a satisfied grin.
CHAPTERFIVE
It shouldn’t have been quite so amusing to her, and Rafael himself was clearly not in the least bit amused. Shocked perhaps, and embarrassed, but clearly still worried about his elderly, wandering great-aunt and now taken completely off guard. He cleared his throat, and she watched him gather his control in an iron grip. The stillness that came over him was honestly impressive.
‘My apologies, Dr Walker,’ he said, her name and title clearly articulated this time and bound to be remembered. His accent, she noticed again, was less pronounced, his English perfect. His words carried hints of London and New York, and other places too. He’d travelled. He’d lived abroad, probably studied too. Perhaps he’d spent more time abroad than he had spent here. ‘My great-aunt is an elderly lady and prone to—’
Madame du Lac rose to her feet abruptly, cutting him off, and held out her hand for the walking stick. Jason hurriedly supplied it. ‘You may take me home now, Rafi. We have had quite enough of your tantrums for one day.’ She turned to Ari, and she was surprised to see the old woman’s eyes twinkling. ‘DoctorWalker, I came to invite you and your brother to dinner tomorrow night. Nicolas, as well, naturally.’ She didn’t give them a chance to agree or make excuses. She sounded more French than ever, despite her perfect English. ‘Come, Rafi.’
She swept towards the front door, leaving him no chance to contradict her. She also didn’t ask if anyone was free, just issued a decree and set off like a flagship leading an armada.
‘Grand-tante,’ Rafael tried to admonish her, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. He glared over his shoulder at Ari, clearly flustered, perhaps simply by her use of the obvious childhood nickname when he was trying to order everyone around. That glare, given his sophisticated image, just amused Ari even more, something he didn’t fail to notice. ‘Very well,’ he muttered darkly. ‘Dr Walker, it seems that we will have dinner as promised. Try not to go to anyone else’s rescue in the meantime.’
As they left, Nico seeing them out, Jason breathed a sigh that sounded suspiciously like relief. He leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.
‘Well, that could have gone better.Rafael du Lac, Jesus.’ Then he opened one suspicious eye. ‘What did he mean about going to someone’s rescue, Ari?’
God, he missed nothing. For a moment, she thought she should tell him, but it was just too embarrassing. All of it.
‘No idea,’ she lied.
‘Why did you call him Ariel?’ Nico asked when he returned from seeing them off. ‘That’s the little mermaid, no? Have you met him before?’
‘Eh…sort of. It’s a long story. I met him at the cove earlier. Who is he?’
Jason barked out a laugh. ‘Oh, that issoyou. You haven’t a clue, do you? He’s only one of the richest men in France. He’s the head of the du Lac Foundation. Well, his mother’s the CEO, or maybe the CFO…the money, anyway, but he’s…what would you call it? The head of the family. Old blood. It’s probably governed by Salic law or something. They used to be royalty, you know? Now they’re just richer than royalty.’
Well, the old lady certainly behaved like a queen. Or an empress.
Ari deliberately pushed all thoughts of handsome princes firmly out of her mind. ‘Do you see everyone in terms of funding, Jason?’
‘Madame du Lac has been very good to us. She’s absolutely dedicated to finding Ys and she believed in Simon and his work completely. But her great-nephew is a different kettle of fish. I reckon he’s here to rein her in. Or at least make sure we aren’t wasting her time. He’s the type to want results fast.’
She was sure he was. But archaeology didn’t work like that. Treasure hunting, which was more or less what Jason did, even less so. You couldn’t just produce things on demand like a magician. Those that did were charlatans and con artists.
Which might be what the du Lacs were worried about. First, Simon had got funding from Madam du Lac, probably based on old family connections, and then Jason turns up out of the blue to take over the baton. They didn’t know him from Adam. He might have found the coin, and it might be the right sort of date, but it was flimsy evidence at best when you were looking for a whole lost city.
Nico picked up the plate and the glass to tidy them away. ‘Unless he’s here to shut us down. You heard him. If he thinks you’re ripping off his great-aunt, it could be all over, Jason.’
To be fair, Jason looked more dismayed than angry at that thought. Ripping people off wasn’t in his worldview. There was a surprising innocence to her brother, no matter what some people thought of him.
Ari took pity on him. ‘Surely he can’t just take back the funding you already have…’
He waved her comment away. With a pang of worry, she wondered how much money Jason had already spent here. And how much more he had asked the old lady for. Or maybe he hadn’t even asked yet, but something had spooked the family enough that Rafael had come haring down here like the knight in shining armour. ‘We need something more concrete. Even once the data on the coin confirms the period…no, that’s going to take too long. How do you feel about diving tomorrow morning? I’m sure there’s more down there. More coins. Or something better. I saw stuff down there, Ari.’ His face took on a wistful look. ‘There was something in among the rocks, the type of stuff you’d recognise. If we can tie it directly to the legend of Ys…’ Ari glared at him and he gave her the helpless grin of the desperately hopeful. ‘The tides are right and everything’s set up. Just say the word. We might even have something to show them at this dinner.’
Jason’s world, she thought ruefully. Dive for treasure in the morning, dine with royalty that night.
He looked so eager, she didn’t have the heart to turn him down. She was here for a few more days. She might as well.
Even if the thought of the water here sent chills through her.
‘OK,’ she relented. ‘You can show me the site. Not promising anything, Jason. But I’ll take a look.’
The little harbour nestled into the turn of the bay, the oldest of the many ports of Douarnenez, the Vieux Port du Rosmeur. The green, tree-lined mound of Les Plomarc’h rose above it and the sea was a tropical blue in contrast. All along the Quai du Petit Port, the cafés and bars were still closed but the port itself buzzed with life. Standing so close to the modern Port de Pêche, Rosmeur felt like stepping back into an earlier age.
