Each time her troweltingedagainst something, her heart leapt into her throat. By the eighth time it happened, she was an expert at knowing what to do: switch to a smaller pick and brush, outline the item, determine if it was a rock or artifact, and record it. But no matter how many times it happened, it was still exhilarating.
By that evening, she’d personally excavated three broken pieces of crockery, what looked to be roofing tiles, and a magnificent example of a Roman era belt, complete with delicate silver scrollwork. The two of them had rather a lot of fun speculating on why an ancient man might’ve removed his belt while along the riverbank, but otherwise Phineas suggested the river was used as a sort of midden, or trash dump.
By Sunday, their excavation was much deeper than the depth from the previous dig. That made sense since they were trying to find something which would be at a lower elevation, hidden in the river mud.
But as the days passed, Olive began to wonder if they’d find thesphaeraafter all. She could tell Phineas was wondering the samething, judging from the number of times he straightened up and propped his hands on his hips as he surveyed their dig site with a frown.
If it was here, they should’ve found it by now.
Rainclouds hung heavy in the sky on the morning when Phineas finally threw up his hands and muttered something in a language Olive didn’t understand.
Concerned, she drew herself to her knees. “What was that?”
Instead of repeating himself, Phineas began to pace, his mud-covered boots covering long strides over the now-cleared excavation. He was wearing his tweed trousers again, whichhadbeen clean at the start of the day, but the jacket he’d been wearing on the day she’d run to find him in the billiards room, was missing.
“Olive, I dinnae think—” With a scowl which turned into a wince, he blew out his breath and turned to face her, his fists propped on his hips. In this pose, she could well imagine him in some far-off land, his hat shading his eyes as he surveyed his next venture. “I’m sorry, love, but thesphaerasimply isnae here.”
Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. “If it is not, thenIam the one who should be sorry.” In the distance, thunder rolled, but neither of them acknowledged it. “I was socertainit was here.”
Frustrated, she mirrored his pose, then turned to survey the full site. “Look, you can see where the river once turned. The whole town was built right up against the river.”
“Aye. From their notes, the original excavators thought it represented a street, with the buildings only reaching the edge.”
The defeated tone in his voice nearly broke her heart. “Imagine what treasures the riverbank must hold!”
“Nay, lass,” he corrected with a bitter tone. “Things were thrown into the river because they were broken or useless. No’ treasures. Broken crockery, utensils and weapons.”
Thinking he was ignoring the belt she’d found—although there were any number of reasons why that might’ve been in the river—Olive stepped toward him, trying to comfort Phineas as the thunder moved closer. “Andsphaerae, which rolled down the roofline to drop into the riverbank.”
Shaking his head sorrowfully, Phineas reached for her. “I’m sorry, Olive. It’s no’ here. Ye cannae deny we’ve dug well below the strata for where it should be and we havenae found any Roman artifacts in the last eighteen inches. We cannae keep hoping.” He sighed and tucked her head under his chin.
With the chill wind that had picked up with the incoming storm, it felt good to be snuggled up against him like this. The last few days had involved more than a few kisses, but none as hot or as desperate as the one they’d shared—the kiss andmore—in her room. But being pressed against him like this reminded her of how he could make her body sing.
Still, the situation was disappointing.
“Damn,” she whispered.
He made a little noise which might’ve been a chuckle, before squeezing her. “I’m just sorry yer first excavation has been a failure, love.”
“Oh no!” Refusing to allow him to believe that, Olive reared back to stare up at him, loving that he smiled at her despite howdisheveled she must look. “This has been anythingbuta failure! I have learned so much, and perhaps we did not find what we were seeking, but I found so many other artifacts!” And each one was a treasure toher, even if they were but broken pottery. “Besides…” She lowered her eyes to his chin as she paraphrased his earlier words. “At least I am with you.”
With a groan, his hold on her tightened. “Lass, ye’re doing that thing with yer lip again.”
A crack of thunder overhead made them both jump.
“What thing?”
“The thing ye do which— Never mind.” When he blew out a breath, it feathered the hair around her forehead. “Suffice it to say, ye’ve been slowly driving me mad. Do ye have any idea how much I’ve wanted to kiss ye? No’ these little pecks we’ve been sharing, butreallykiss ye again.” Before she could reply, he leaned closer, his breath caressing her ear. “The kind of kiss we shared in yer bedroom. The kind of kiss which ends with ye screaming my name as ye find ecstasy.”
Something between a shiver and a shudder ran through Olive, starting under her chin and rushing lower, before being caught in the middle, in the suddenly warm space between her thighs.
Likely because of the chill in the air.
Even she didn’t believe that.
She was pushing herself up on her toes to meet his lips when the first big plop of rain hit the crown of her head, and she felt him relax the same moment he blew out a frustrated breath. She was still standing, suspended, when he offered her a rueful grin.
“I suppose ye finally get to experience the joys of scrambling to cover a dig site in canvas.” Before she could respond, he dropped his hand to hers so he could pull her toward the storage shed. “Come on!”
