Astrid stepped onto the deck and stared at the sky. Only seven AM and already the humidity rose. She’d wanted to have her morning run before the temperature rose to match the humidity. She trotted down the steps and began a series of warm-up exercises. As she settled into the familiar routine her thoughts drifted to her last night’s visit to her father with Sarah.
Hope filled her. The intravenous had been removed. He’d been sitting in a chair. His grin, his firm handclasp had heartened her. Though she’d noticed a slight weakness on the right side, the improvement pleased her. They’d even managed a conversation. His answers had been single words or nods and shakes of his head.
When she’d mentioned how Clive had displayed the Egyptian necklace and crown, he’d scowled. “No.”
“Not for sale?” she’d asked.
He had nodded.
“That’s what I told Clive’s friend, Lorna. Do you want me to store them in the vault?”
“Yes.”
She’d wanted to tell him about her strange adventure in the past but not yet. She refused to add any worries to whatever troubled him. The childhood incidents had rattled her father and they had only been glimpses of another time and place. Her choice of nursing as a career rather than archeology had pleased him.
The blare of a car horn startled her. She nearly rapped her chin on the railing. She turned, frowned and walked to the car. The driver rolled down a window. “Morning.”
“Clive, what are you doing here so early?”
His gaze grazed over her legs, her hips and her breasts. She clenched her fists and wished she’d worn something less revealing than biker shorts and a body hugging tee shirt.
“Figured you were still taking early morning runs.” He grinned. “Makes me want to take up the habit. Have to say you’re looking…fit.”
She gritted her teeth. “What do you want?”
“If I weren’t in a hurry I would show you.”
“Enough.”
“Can’t fault me for trying.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m sure you didn’t come to banter.”
“Wanted to let you know I won’t be at the shop this weekend.”
“Why?”
“I checked your dad’s calendar. He starred an estate sale for today and a street fair for tomorrow. The one today includes some jade pieces and you never know what can be found at these street fairs. Have to leave you on your own while I handle the buying.”
Astrid nodded. “Better you than me. Do you need checks or money?”
“I’m set. Hope you don’t mind being alone both days.”
“Won’t be. I asked Aunt Sarah if she’d like a few hours work every weekend. She’d be delighted and she knows the stock almost as well as Dad.”
Clive made a face. “I agree about her ability but I don’t have to like her.”
“Did you reach the other woman?”
He nodded. “She’ll come by on Tuesday or Wednesday. She’ll be glad to work from noon until four on weekdays.”
“Sounds good.”
“How is your dad?”
“Much improved. You should stop by to see him.”
He nodded. “I will. Have a thing about hospitals. Being in one gives me the creeps.”
“Bad experience?”
He shrugged. “A little. Also though your father might not want to see me. I feel responsible for the attack. Maybe our argument was the trigger.”
She shook her head. “More like poor diet and little exercise.”
“Hope he’s well enough to discuss the real issues soon.” He held up a hand. “Don’t scowl. I won’t say a thing until he’s one hundred percent. See you Monday when I drop off anything I buy.”
Astrid watched him leave. She returned to the exercises. Once her muscles loosened she jogged around the building and up the street toward the Hook.
Most of the shops and restaurants along Broadway were closed. She passed a bakery and inhaled the aroma of coffee and fresh bread. She resisted the lure. On the way back she promised herself a stop for breakfast. She ran along several blocks where houses were set back from the sidewalk. Green lawns were dotted with beds of flowers and persistent dandelions.
The houses changed from small to Victorian structures. Just ahead she saw the wall hiding mansions from view. As she neared the brick barrier a gate opened and a man stepped into the sidewalk. To avoid a collision she veered.
He blocked her path. “Astrid.”
“Mr. Garrett, I can’t stop now.” She edged around him.
“I’ll run with you. We can stop for coffee and pastry in the way back.”
Astrid gulped a breath. Hopefully she wouldn’t trip over a sidewalk crack and sprawl on the ground. His cut-off shorts and muscle shirt exposed more of his flesh than was good for her. He kept up the pace matching her stride for stride.
When they reached the Hook, she paused to gaze at the Hudson River. How good to be back in Rockleigh. Wavelets washed against the narrow beach. Both bridges, the old and the new, stood against the blue sky.
Duncan rested his hands on her shoulders. Heat infused her. She should move away. Instead she leaned back. “Thought you were going to the shore.”
“Discovered more interesting matters here.”
“And your friend?”
“Lorna.” He chuckled. “She’s there. Clive plans to stay at the beach house after the sales. Lorna has ideas about me but we’re not involved and never will be.”
He wasn’t taken. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm against her chest. Did she want to be involved with him or any man? There were her father’s illness and her plans for school to keep her busy. She turned to leave and found herself in his arms.
His mouth seized hers. S shudder swept through her. Was almost as if she knew his scent, his touch, his taste. She fitted against his body with perfect alignment. As though entranced she slid her arms around his neck. He pressed her against his erection. They moved in a synchronous dance.
She opened her mouth to his probing tongue. The kiss continued until she felt lightheaded.
He raised his head but kept her imprisoned in his arms. “Come to my house with me.”
At first she couldn’t make sense of his words. Her heart thundered and she felt as if she’d run miles through the desert. “What?”
“We can close the gate and finish what we’ve begun. No one will see us.”
With the speed of a snail sanity returned. “I don’t even know you.”
“What better way to become acquainted.”
Lord, she was in trouble. She inhaled several deep breaths and nearly succumbed to his heady scent. “I don’t think so.”
He laughed. “Maybe after we stop at the bakery.”
She pulled free. “A rain check on the coffee.” As she raced up the drive from the Hook and down the street, she glanced over her shoulder. He wasn’t following. For that she was thankful. What happened back there? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
* * *
Duncan waited until Astrid vanished in the distance. He groaned. So much for a subtle seduction. He’d grabbed her like an invader seizing the spoils of a battle. He couldn’t believe he’d acted like a boor but once his mouth had touched hers, the only thought in his head was a frantic desire to possess her completely.
“Now what?”
Apologize, a little voice said. He shook his head. She’s been as involved in the lethal kiss as he had been. She couldn’t say she had been unwilling, or that there hadn’t been an explosive connection.
He groaned and started walking. He needed a plan. Except, all his energy remained focused on the part of him he’d always had under control. Even with her gone, his erection throbbed and ached for release.
He opened the gate and stepped into the garden surrounding the large stone house. Moments later, he stood in the shower while a frigid spray failed to wash away his desire for the tall dark-haired Astrid whose curves had fit his body perfectly.
What did he want from her? He laughed. The answer was evident. Sex. Mind-blowing sex. Would a thousand encounters feed the hunger he felt?
He briskly dried. He’d better decide what else he wanted before he was mired in quicksand. He needed to know more about her before he plunged into the morass. He could ask Clive for information but his friend had his own agenda concerning Astrid.
Duncan frowned. He had the impression she didn’t like Clive. Why? Who would know?
He dressed, and for the second time, headed to the bakery. A plan began to unfold. This afternoon, he would visit Lloyd. If he helped her father, Astrid might be willing to become involved in a lengthy affair.
* * *
What had she been thinking? The question followed Astrid into the apartment and into the shower. She’d never acted or felt the way she had in Duncan’s arms. What was she going to do about her heated response to the man? She didn’t know him, yet being close to him felt right and the kiss had stirred responses she felt in every cell. Could she handle a wild affair? Anything so volcanic was sure to grow cold after the eruption occurred.
She pushed these thoughts aside. She had enough on her plate to give her acute indigestion.
Once she’d dressed, she left the apartment and tapped on Sarah’s door. The older woman answered. A gray Persian cat mewed a welcome. Astrid bent and scratched the cat’s head. “Portia looks good.”
Sarah laughed. “She’s growing fat. Come in.”
“Can’t. I’m on my way to see Dad. Are you available to work in the shop today and tomorrow? Clive needs to attend the sales Dad had scheduled to visit.”
“What time?”
“Between noon and one.” Astrid groaned. “I have a luncheon date with Paula. I should cancel but I don’t know her number.”
“Maybe it’s in your dad’s files. She seems nice.”
Astrid nodded. “I felt a connection to her. Most of my old friends have moved away so I need to make new ones.”
“You will. See you later.”
Astrid drove to the hospital and arrived just as an aide delivered his breakfast tray. When she saw what he’d been served she grinned. “None of the fat-loaded foods you prefer.”
He shrugged. “Hungry.”
“Then eat and I’ll fill you in on what’s happening at Antiquities.”
Though he spilled some of the cereal, he managed to eat most of the serving. She told him about Clive’s decision to attend sales this weekend.
“Good.”
“What will he be buying?”
“Maybe nothing.”
“Do you mind if I clear the clutter in the apartment?”
His smile, thought crooked, brought one from her. When he tried to lift the teacup, his hand shook. She took a straw from beside the water pitcher. “Try this.” She bent the straw. “What do you know about Duncan Garrett?”
“Good man. Lost. Treasure. Help him.”
Astrid tried to make sense of the string of words. “What treasure?”
“His family. Stolen. Long ago. Help find.”
“All right, I will.” I just won’t go to bed with him, she added silently.
“Letters. Read.”
“I will. Wish me luck today. Aunt Sarah is helping.”
“Good.”
She kissed his cheek. As she left the room, a doctor strode down the hall. When the nurse Astrid had spoken to the day she had first visited waved her hand, the doctor paused.
“Miss Logan. This is Doctor Gregori.”
He doctor smiled. “I’m your father’s physician.”
“How is he doing? He seems improved.”
“Better than expected but that’s the beauty of prompt treatment. If he continues to improve, I’d like to arrange a transfer to a rehab facility early next week.”
“Wonderful.” She asked questions about his treatment. The doctor’s answers reassured her. “Do you think stress was a factor?”
“Possibly but lifestyle is more probable. Long hours, fatty foods, lack of exercise, age.”
Astrid nodded. “Over the summer I’ll work on changing his habits. Thanks.” As she hurried to her car, she decided to involve Sarah in the health campaign.
After opening Antiquities, she checked the cash register and the credit card set-up. She hoped she would remember how to use them. When she felt comfortable with the machines she strode to the Egyptian collection. Using the display cloth as a barrier, she lifted the necklace, crown and pectoral and carried them to the office. Once Sarah arrived, Astrid intended to store them in the vault.
The bell above the door jangled. “Paula, aren’t you early?”
“Actually I knew you would be stuck here. Ran into Clive at the bakery.” She smiled. “Since he’d not here to interfere I thought I get some work done.”
“Good idea.” Astrid paused. “How about dinner this evening? At the apartment. We can order in.”
“Let me do a pickup. How does veggie pitas with heavenly dressing sound. There’s a place uptown that makes them.”
“You’re on.”
“What time?”
“Say seven. I’d like to pop in to see my dad before dinner.”
Paula pulled a portfolio from her case. “Show him these. I think he’ll enjoy.”
Before long the shop filled with browsers. Several people made purchases. During a lull, Astrid sorted through the stacks of papers on her father’s desk.
At four, Sarah waved her over. “You need to make a deposit. I’ll lock up and set the alarms.”
“Thanks. Before I leave I need to put some things in the vault and find something to replace the items Dad wanted me to remove from display.” After doing this, she counted the cash, leaving enough to start the next day. After filling the deposit slips, she walked to the bank and left the packet in the night slot. At the apartment she stood in the middle of the main room. Where to begin? She found a stack of index cards to mark the places in the open books.
What was Dad looking for? There were books about many countries but there seemed nothing to tie them together. She stacked them in a corner of the room.
Once the chairs and coffee table were clear, she moved to the couch. Beneath a stack of books she found a necklace made from a single strand of beads. A cylinder seal carved from onyx hung from the center. Without thinking, she lifted the necklace from the cushions. A wave of dizziness claimed her. She collapsed on the couch.
* * *
Istari smoothed the clay on the tablet, and once again checked her observations of the stars. The Assyrian army had been camped outside the city for nearly a week. Soon, they would storm the gates. With a sigh, she shut out the cries of the hungry and frightened people. She could no nothing to soothe their fears and she'd given all the stores food the temple could spare.
She choked back a cry of despair and raised the stylus to mark her findings. She checked her observations against those provided by the astrologers.
“Alas, poor Babylon. Your night has come. War is a part of life. Countries wax and wane like Sin, the moon. Sleep well my beloved land until the dawning of your new day.”
Though tempted to scrape the tablet, she knew nothing could change the approaching time. During her days in the temple of Marduke, she had become a reader of the future and a student of the past. Her own chart showed she would leave the city of her birth as a prisoner. She carried the tablet to the main room of the temple and placed it on the altar before the statue of the god.
Lamaru, the youngest of the priestesses, ran from the entrance to the living quarters. “Istari, Ishtar-ishtaru sent me to find you.”
Mardu, priestess and kin to the rulers of Babylon, stormed toward them. “Why does she want to see this one? Does she think she can name one who has no family as her successor?” Her fleshy fingers extended into claws. “Istari, you are not fit to serve Marduke. Who knows what your parents were? You were a foundling.”
Istari eyed the other woman. Why hadn’t she lost weight the way the other priest, priestesses and servants of Marduke had in the days since the siege began? Mardu’s lush curves were a mockery.
“Ishtar-ishtaru is my foster mother. Why wouldn’t she want her child’s presence at her death?”
“She must choose her successor yet she remains silent.”
“As is her choice.”
Mardu glared. “We will see who is named Ishtaru. Before another day passes I will rule this temple and you will be driven into the streets where you belong.” She marched away.
Istari released a sigh. At least Mardu would be gone for hours while she searched for kinsmen to gain their support in her quest for power. Those relatives may have already fled the city. Even if they pressured Ishtar-Ishtar to name Mardu as high priestess, the city’s fate was written in the stars. The king and his advisors were responsible for the trouble. For months, the astrologers and diviners had given warnings the rulers had ignored.
“Don’t listen to her,” Lamaru said. “She envies your knowledge and your beauty. She wants to be high priestess so she can command reluctant men to lie in her bed. She’s always bringing some new slave to her sleeping chamber, but she really wants those of noble blood as her lovers.”
Istari frowned. “If she’s not a virgin how will she perform the Tammuz rite?”
“She whispered to one of the others of the many ways a woman can appear untouched.”
Istari shook her head. “Through Mardu the corruption of the rulers had tainted the temple. But the tainted mattered not. The day of the city and the temple drew to an end.
She scurried down the hall leading to the sleeping chambers where her foster mother awaited death. She paused in the doorway and struggled to remain calm. Ishtar-ishtaru lay on a low bed. Her skin was ashen. Except for an abdomen swollen in imitation of pregnancy, she appeared skeletal.
Bel-mar-tammuz, Istari’s foster father and consort of the high priestess, knelt beside the bed. The illness of his beloved had aged him. His noble face was scored by lines and his dark eyes showed heavy grief.
Istari knelt beside him. “Foster mother, I am here.”
“And the stars,” Ishtar-ishtaru asked. “What say they of the future?”
“Alas, the dark night comes for Babylon.”
“And for you?”
Istari sighed. “My fate is to be a captive and serve Marduke no more.”
“Nay, you will honor him in your heart.” The dying woman smiled. “Never have I doubted you or your love. Ah, Bel-mar, remember the small girl you found in the market and brought here to ease my sorrow over my barren state?”
Bel-mar touched his consort’s arm. “She became the child of our heart and the joy of our lives.”
Ishtar-ishtaru sighed. “Remember how her big eyes peered into every corner of the temple. Question after question. Always wanting to know what and why.”
“We taught her,” Bel-mar said. “She learned to read and write before most boys begin their schooling.”
“My child you have given us laughter and fulfillment,” Ishtar-ishtaru said. “Would that we could give you the same but these days aren’t for pleasure. Bel-mar, the necklace.”
Istari’s eyes widened. For the first time in the years since she’d come to the temple, her foster mother’s neck was bare. The symbol of her office was in Bel-mar’s hand. The temple seal dangled from the single row of beads strung on a metal wire. “I am not worthy. No one knows my origins.”
“Who better than one of the people to serve Marduke in his final hours in Babylon,” Ishtar-ishtaru said. “Bel-mar fasten the seal for my fingers have no strength.”
Istari blinked tears from her eyes. “I will treasure your gift and the god with joy. Go soon, mother of my heart. Do not linter to witness the end.” She kissed the older woman’s cheek and fled the room. In the hall, she collapsed against the wall and waited for her tears to cease.
When she reached the main room of the temple, Lamaru saw the necklace. “She chose you.”
A group of priests and priestesses gathered around Istari. “Is she gone/” one asked.
“She lives but barely.”
“What will you have us do?” one of the priests asked. “This is no time for a gathering of the nobles for the Tammuz ceremony.”
Istari nodded. “There will be no rite of passage for me. You’ve seen the charts and heard the prophecies. I would see everyone depart the temple. Hide in the city. The gates will fall by morning and by evening, the invaders will hold the temple. I will face them alone for ’tis written in my stars that I will go into captivity.”
Though many protested, Istari exhorted them to leave. As she watched the departures, she wondered if she would see any of her companions again. She knelt before Marduke and sent wishes for their safety on the winds.
“Istari, let me stay.” Lamaru knelt at the altar. “I have no one and nowhere to go.”
Istari nodded. The young priestess was another foundling. A band of friendship had grown between them. “If I can, I’ll protect you. Come, let us take bread, cheese and beer to Bel-mar and sit with Ishtar-ishtaru.”
Through out the night, they kept a vigil over the dying priestess. Of Mardu, there was no sign. Istari prayed her enemy had found refuge with her kin.
As the first rays of sun brightened the sky, her foster mother breathed her last. Bel-mar rent his clothes and streaked his face with ashes from the fire.
As the day moved forward, the sounds of fighting drew near. Screams and the clash of metal on metal forced Istari from her silent grief. She rose and walked to the door.
“Where are you going?” Lamaru asked.
Istari turned. “Even on a day as evil as this, duty must be done. I have neglected the god and he must be served.” She hurried to the main room of the temple to perform the neglected duties. With care, she drew the curtains around the painted statue of Marduke and knelt at his feet to beg forgiveness.
The shouts grew louder. Screams pierced the air. When she peered around the curtain, her hand flew to her mouth. The Assyrian soldiers were expected but Mardu’s presence in their midst wasn’t. The plump priestess stood between two men in the fore of the invaders. Istari stepped into view.
“That’s her,” Mardu shouted. “Istari, the false priestess.”
One of the men strode toward Istari. The other held Mardu against her side. Istari’s breath caught in her throat. The warrior was handsome with well-developed muscles. When he seized her arm, she felt as though lightning pierced her core.
* * *
Ashur-dagan-shu’s heart thudded against his chest with the thundering beat like the hooves of his chariot horses. He’d never seen a woman who matched the beauty of this priestess. Though her dress covered her from neck to ankle, he noticed her narrow waist set off by the short overskirt. Tall, slender, perfect features. She could be the goddess come to life.
“I am Ashur-dagan-shu, leader of the Assyrians. I claim all that lies within this temple for my king.” He pulled her into his arms. “I claim you as mind.”
He brought his mouth to hers, felt her shudder, then surrender to the heat flashing between them. Perhaps she cast a spell on him but she was his and he would carry her to Nineveh and sequester her in his woman’s house. He deepened the kiss and pressed her against his swollen member. Only the cheers and urgings of his men to take her halted his assault. Not for him a public display of his mastery of her or any other woman.
Trutanu-ilu, his second, strode toward Ashur and the priestess. The woman who had led them here clung to Ashur’s friend’s arm. Ashur felt the heat of her gaze on the place where his erectness thrust against his tunic. She ran her tongue over her lips. Her dark eyes glittered.
Mardu jerked away from Turtanu. “Despoil her. Kill her. That’s my price for opening the gate and leading you here/
Ashur shook his head. “To allow a traitor to live is reward enough. Turtanu, control your slave.”
Turtanu laughed. “Let us share this false priestess. She is responsible to a man’s touch. All who serve Ishtar are.”
The priestess stepped from behind Ashur. “I an Istari-ishtaru. Those who serve Mandrake in Babylon are not prostitutes who sleep with any men the way your Assyrian temple women do. Until I choose my Tammuz, I lay with no man.”
Mardu spat. “You haven’t the proper lineage to claim the guise of the goddess who walks among us. I should have been named the successor. No noble of Babylon will accept a skinny foundling. How can you expect to find a consort?”
Ashur chuckled. “There is one noble of Assyria who places beauty over birth. I will be her consort.”
“Though I am not a noble, only a soldier risen through the ranks, I also would be your consort,” Turtanu said.
Mardu whirled and spat. “Neither of you will have her.” Her voice rose to a piercing scream. She drew a knife and rushed toward Istari.
A priest with gray-streaked hair dashed across the room and acted before Ashur could move. The blade meant for Istari plunged into the old man’s chest. His body thudded on the stone floor. Istari dropped to her knees. A wail rose from her lips and she fell across the body.
Ashur grabbed Mardu and shoved her into Turtanu’s arms. “Bind and gag her. She is twice a traitor and for this act, she will be punished.” He turned to the assembled men. “Remove the statue of their god. Marduke will come to Assyria and bow before our king and our gods.
* * *
When Bel-mar collapsed, Istari no longer heard the enemies’ voices. Her entire being focused on her foster father, the man who had been her rescuer and her teacher. “Bel-mar-tammuz, why did you act? Now I have no parents and no homeland.”
“Ishtari-ishtaru.” He stretched his hand as though grasping another’s fingers. “Beloved.” He smiled.
Lamaru stroked Istari’s arm. “He’s at peace. He’s a hero. He saved your life.”
“Do you think that is what I wanted?” Istari stared at the younger girls. Her earlier numbness vanished. Holding her grief inside brought nausea. She wanted to scream and attack Mardu but the other priestess was gone. She bent her head. Tears gushed and she keened. “We must carry him to his room so he can lie beside Ishtar-ishtaru in death as he did in life.”
Lamaru crouched at Bel-mar's feet. They tried to lift him but he was too heavy. Istari’s body shook with frustration.
The Assyrian leader came to her. “What re you doing? Why have you marked yourself with his blood? Was this old man your lover?”
“Bel-mar was my foster father. I want him to lie beside my foster mother. She died as the sun rose. At least she escaped the tragedy that has befallen her Tammuz and her beloved land.”
He motioned to several of the soldiers. “Do as she bids you and leave the room of the dead untouched. Do not harm either of these priestesses.” He pulled Istari to her feet. “Wash the blood from your body and remain in your room until I come.”
“Am I not allowed to mourn my dead?”
He clasped her hands. “In your heart and in your thoughts you may mourn. Istari, you are mine and will have a better fate than most of the women in Babylon.”
“What of Lamaru?”
She will remain untouched. She goes to my king.”
“Can’t she remain here and serve Marduke?”
He laughed. “Your god travels to Nineveh. He returns to his home. You stole your gods and goddesses from Assyria. Go and do as you are bid.”
Istari followed Lamaru and the soldiers who carried Bel-mar to the small sleeping chamber. They washed his body and changed his robe Istari let her tears flow. “Now they are together.”
“What will we do?” Lamaru asked. “I heard the men laugh when their leader kissed you. The soldiers have brought women from the streets into the temple. They violate them before the altar.”
“Such are the ways of war. We are prisoners.”
Lamaru nodded. “I’m afraid.”
“So am I.” Istari stroked the faces of her foster parents. “May your spirits soar in death as they did in life.” She rose and held out her hand to the younger priestess. “Come. I must bathe and wait. Stay with me for a time.”
* * *
Ashur watched Istari leave. Her body moved with fluid grace. The kiss of conquest had been but a taste to whet his appetite. Was she the embodiment of the goddess? Her face and form were perfection.
The sounds of revelry reached him. The screams of the captive women rose above the deeper voices of the men. Before he sought Istari he needed to gain control of the men. Though looting and taking unwilling women were part of a victory, he feared the lack of discipline would cause the men to turn on each other. Babylon belonged to Assyria and the men would be better occupied seeking slaves and plunder to take to the king.
“Turtanu.” He bellowed his second’s name. Ashur strode into the main room of the temple and saw his friend buried to the hilt in the body of the woman who had betrayed her land and people. “Turtanu, attend me.”
The second shouted his release and turned his head from the woman. “Do you want a turn?”
Ashur glared. He’d been repelled by Mardu when she’d crepe into their camp during the night and offered to show them an entrance into the city. “She was to be bound and gagged.”
“I had need of her.”
“Obey my orders now. The men are out of control. I wish to seize the loot and slaves and be hone before long. We must end these games.”
Turtanu smiled. “They but celebrate our victory. About Mardu. Don’t you recall what we owe her? Because of her the city shattered beneath us like an over-ripe melon.”
“I haven’t forgotten what she did.” Ashur grasped his friend’s arm. “Come. Form ranks.” His booming voice cut through the shouts and screams.
Before long the men stood in orderly rows. “Place the women under guard in one of the rooms.” He indicated several men to act as guards. He turned to Turtanu. “Set the patrols to gather spoils. Select slaves from the artisans and children. Once this is done, we can return home in triumph.”
Mardu moved toward him. “Come, commander, let me soothe your ill-temper.” She stroked her breasts.
Ashur turned away. “Put her with the other women.”
She laughed softly. “I know much about pleasuring men.”
Disgust filled Ashur. “Turtanu, do as I order. Friendship is no reason for your continued disobedience.”
Mardu grabbed Ashur’s arm. “You go to Istari. She stole the temple seal and declared she embodies the goddess. She lies. Why should she have the man who rules our lives? I want you. Come with me.”
“You have no right to make demands.”
She stamped her food. “Turtanu, tell him what I have promised. Tell him I know where the treasure of Babylon can be found. I’ll give it all to him if he does as I wish.”
Turtanu laughed. “Ashur is above bribery.” He turned his head. “Will you give the king the beautiful Istari to insure your place at his right hand? Isn’t it enough he has promised you one of his sisters as your wife?”
Mardu laughed. “Would the king accept one who has been with many men? Istari even lay with her foster father. Every day, she tells Bel-mar of her live. You are a fool.”
Ashur walked away. In time, he would learn the truth.
* * *
Istari scrubbed the blood from her skin. She couldn’t halt the tears spilling from her eyes. All was gone. All she had loved. Her foster parents, the temple and her city now lay beneath the sandals of the Assyrians. She fingered the beads of the necklace and traced the markings of the seal. Even the power of the gift had vanished. How could the god have failed to protect her people? She shook her head. Not the god but the leaders who had blocked their ears and covered their eyes to the warnings of the astrologers and the priests. Marduke couldn’t take arms and fight.
She rinsed the soap from her skin and washed her hair. A picture of the Assyrian leader flashed in her thoughts. Ashur-dagan-shu. Tall, muscular, the very embodiment of a god. Would that he were a man of Babylon. She would gladly have taken him as her consort. She rose from the pool and dressed.
Lamaru joined her. “What will we do?”
“I’ll go to my room and wait.” Istari grasped the girl’s hand. “You should run and hide.”
Lamaru shook her head. “Where would I go? I have no kin and no place but the temple.”
Istari led her friend to her small room where they would await the coming of the enemy. Like the younger priestess she had no where to go.
“Cast my chart so I may learn my fate,” Lamaru said.
Istari nodded. Doing the calculations would keep her from thinking about what had passed and what was to come. She wiped away the tears trickling down her cheeks. After smoothing clay on a tablet, she used a stylus to mark the surface. She smiled. “You will survive, even prosper. There will be grief but you will find a great love.”
Lamaru laughed. “And for you?”
Again Istari cleaned the slate and marked her planets. “My fate is hazy. Mars lies atop Venus and the Moon passes over my Sun. The warrior will give me a child.” She closed her eyes. And more grief will come.
“What of him?”
“I don’t know the day of his birth so I can’t chart his star path.” She failed to mention that in her chart Saturn opposed Mars, Venus, Jupiter and her Sun.
The guards brought bread and cheese. Istari felt restless but she dare not leave the room. Shadows crept across the chamber. The moon rose. When would he come? What would he do?
The steps of sandaled feet sounded on the stone floor. Istari stared at the door and saw Ashur in the doorway. The intensity of his gaze both thrilled and frightened her. His dark eyes seemed to strip her clothes away. He gestured to Lamaru. “Go with the guards. They will see you come to no harm.”
Once the girl left, he sat on a stool and removed his high-laced sandals. Then he stood and removed his clothes.
Istari watched the play of muscles as his body was revealed. Her mouth felt dry. When she saw his jutting male organ, her eyes widened.
“Look not at my spear but gaze into my eyes,” he commanded. With the gliding movements of a forest cat stalking prey, he moved toward her. The gleam of sweat on his skin made her want to stroke his flesh. The scent of him grew stronger until she could smell nothing except his desire. Her heart quickened.
A smile curved his lips. “Am I more than any man you have known?”
She frowned. “I’ve never had a man come to me unclothed.”
He laughed. “Don’t think you can fool me. Soon, I’ll know the truth. Mardu said you lay with many men, even your foster father.”
“She lies. Since I passed from childhood I never crept into my foster parents’ bed. Even when the gods beat their war drums and slash the sky with their light swords I turned to no man for comfort. When the storms arrive I cowered in my room.”
He pulled her to her feet and crushed her body against his. His mouth touched hers. When she gasped, he thrust his tongue inside. His hands roved over her body the way they had in the temple. She felt wetness arise in her woman’s parts and remembered her foster mother’s instructions on the ways a woman’s body prepared for the invasion of the male organ.
Her arms slid around his neck. She tried to move closer, but her clothes kept her from feeling his skin against hers. He released her lips and slid his mouth to her neck. He sucked her skin, then raised his head. “You’re mine for I have marked you.” He grasped the neck of her dress and ripped. His hands covered her breasts. The nipples peaked and pressed against his palms. He ran his lips over one and then the other. Taking the nipple between his teeth, he sucked.
Istari felt hot enough to burn. “Tammuz,” she cried. “As I was before, I am yours now.”
He tore the rest of her clothes away and carried her to the low bed. “Do not name the god who is sacrificed.” He nudged her legs apart and lay atop her.
“Not so. Tammuz is the one I choose as consort.”
He captured her hands in one of his and held her arms above her head. With a single thrust, his spear penetrated her women’s core. She screamed. He put his mouth on hers and stopped her cries. She bucked against the pain that stole her breath.
He raised his head. “Mardu lied.” He released her hands and began to slide away.
She grasped his shoulders. “Ashur-dagan-shu-tammuz, until I receive your seed the rite isn’t complete.” She pulled his head down and brushed her tongue along his lips.
“Istari, I fear to hurt you more.”
She stroked his face. “What was done cannot be undone. The stars foretold you will give me a child,” More than anything she wanted a child and to once again have a family.
He raised himself and drew her into his arms. “Then I will give you my seed.” He caressed her back and gently kissed her, gently at first and then with increasing urgency. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and nipped her lips. “Though I can’t take you as my wife, you will have an honored place in my harem.”
Not as a wife. For a moment she stiffened. Could she live with other women who shared his attention? For a child she had to try.
He ran his hands over her skin. He cupped her breasts and lowered his head to lave them. She felt a pulsing in her woman’s channel. His organ hardened. She rubbed against the firm shaft. She raised one leg and slid it over his hips. He pulsed against her. One of his hands pressed against her back and he moved his hips, drawing his penis over her sensitive skin.
“Ashur,” she cried. “Come to me.”
With a quick movement, he rolled and pulled her beneath him. She stroked his hair. He rose so his weight was supported by his arms. Their gazes locked. As she put both legs over his back, he slid into her.
He growled. “So wet, so tight, so hot.”
Without knowing why she squeezed her inner muscles. He groaned and the sound vibrated through her. She pressed her heels against his buttocks to draw him closer. As he moved, waves of heat spiraled. She arched her back.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
“Yes, oh yes.”
Istari wanted to soar, to reach beyond the exquisite sensations. She thrust against him until they moved in concert. She pressed her hands against his chest. At the moment of explosion, she pinched his nipples.
He roared her name again and again. “You’re mine. Mine.” His seed spurted, they gushed. His mouth met hers in a possessive kiss.
“And you are mine,” she whispered.
He rolled from her and pulled her against his chest. “I will never let you go.”
She closed her eyes and savored memories of the way he’d made her feel. “Tammuz. My consort.”
Soon, the sounds from him told her he slept. She leaned on one elbow and gazed at him. Though she no longer served Marduke, Ashur was her consort for now and all her days. Was there a way to change her fate?
* * *
Ashur stared at the sleeping woman, He longed to kiss her awake and bring them to fulfillment. A thousand nights wouldn’t be enough to sate him. She was so responsive and so heated. Istari was to have his son and he knew but one way for that to occur. He had to gift her with his seed until one was firmly planted in her nest. He grinned. The act he had to perform held no hardship, only pleasure.
His gaze moved from her belly to her breasts. For an instant, he glimpsed a dark-haired infant nursing. His spear stiffened. In the days to come, he would have her read his stars. Would his reward be the one he sought? The king’s sister, a place on the council as advisor to the king’s young son and wealth. He’d already befriended the boy. Once the king died, Ashur believed the friendship would make him the true ruler of Assyria, at least until the boy came of age.
What of Istari? Would she continue to accept a lesser place in his life? She’d been trained to rule the temple. Could she be content to live in a harem? Why did her wishes matter? She was his captive now and forever.
He slid from the bed. She opened her eyes and reached for him. Desire built. A mere glance acted like a spark on oiled kindling. She rose. “Come to the baths and let me clean the blood of sacrifice from your organ.”
“More of the ritual?”
She smiled. “Don’t you like to be clean? The water will soothe my aches and give us a chance to explore each other.”
“Ah,” he crooned and followed her to a room where the open roof allowed the rays of the sun to warm the water in the large pool. Though at this time, the water felt cool. He stepped into the pool and sat with his legs stretched before him. Istari coated her hands with soap and laved his chest and abdomen. Her touch roused him. When she touched his spear, desire grew. Her soaped hands slid back and forth on his organ.
Ashur groaned. “I would give you mu seed.”
She knelt between his spread legs. “I would welcome the gift.”
He lifted her onto his legs and slid her onto his engorged penis. He raised his knees and brought her breasts to his mouth. He suckled one and then the other. As he stroked her lower lips he watched her expression change. With a finger he found the center of her desire. She arched back and cried her pleasure. He held back his seed for he wasn’t ready to relinquish the delight he found deep inside her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why do you withhold your seed, the bringer of new life?”
“Wrap your legs around me.” A picture of Turtanu thrusting into Mardu as she lay on the altar flashed into his thoughts. Istari’s face and form replaced those of the other priestess. Not on the altar, he decided but in the same manner. He rose and carried her to the table used by slaves to massage the aches from sore muscles. He sat her on the edge of the table and withdrew.
“Ashur, why?”
“Lean back so I can admire your beauty.” He pressed his lips to her throat and marked her as he had before. His mouth trailed over her breasts and he stroked her nipples with his tongue before sliding them along her abdomen. With his tongue, he explored the folds between her legs and when her juices flowed heavily, he through until her tight passage encased his spear.
She moaned and moved. He caressed her breasts until her cries grew frantic. One touch to her pleasure knot and she spasmed. Her sheath tightened around his spear and with a roar, he released his seed.
“Ashur, Ashur, my Tammuz, my love for now and forever.”
He gathered her close. “You are my star of live.” He carried her back to the pool.
When they returned to her room, they found bread, meat and beer. With laughter, they fed each other. Though he would have liked to linger, he dressed. “I must see to the gathering of spoils and slaves. The guard will keep you safe and bring your young friend to keep you company. Ready your belongings. We leave for Nineveh soon.”
“I hear.”
He saw tears in her eyes and wished he could stop them. There was no way he could change the past of the future.
* * *
Ashur cornered his patrol leaders and examined the goods they had selected to carry away. Already carts containing cloth, metals, jewelry and other wares had left the city. Slaves, men and women with skills and also children, had been selected from the pens. He spotted Turtanu and scowled for the priestess, Mardu, stood at his friend’s side.
Ashur strode toward the pair. “What is she doing here? You were ordered to place her with the slaves.”
Turtanu pointed to a line of scratches on her arm. “The women attacked her. She will be my gift to the temple of Ishtar when we reach Nineveh. Once in the temple, with her skills, she will be given the status she has been denied here.”
“How can you trust a woman who has betrayed her people?”
Turtanu laughed. “She only saw to herself and that’s the first law of life. Mardu wants the life I’ve promised. She will obey me. Is she different from you and me? You let ambition rule. So do I.”
Ashur frowned. Turtanu had risen as high as possible for one of low birth. How could he expect to become a noble?
“I serve the king,” Ashur said. “My ambition is to see Assyria prosper and become powerful.”
“There we differ.” Turtanu stroked Mardu’s arm. “She will obey my commands.”
“And when she’s chosen to participate in the spring ritual, will you be her consort for the night and die to insure a good harvest.”
Mardu’s eyes narrowed. “Turtanu is safe from that fate. I have another choice but he can escape if he kills the false priestess and delivers the seal to me.”
“I have no desire for you.”
She stared at his groin. “Desire can be stirred. Let me touch you and you will beg me to mount you.”
“There’s more to desire than the body’s response.” He moved away. “Turtanu, speed the gathering of the spoils. We leave for Nineveh in two days.”
* * *
Istari sank to the chariot floor. The days of travel seemed endless and she wished for sleep. She’d lost track of how much time had passed in the monotony of the journey. Her hand stroked her abdomen where Ashur’s seed had taken root.
He helped her to her feet. “Not far now. If we hurry, we can reach the city soon after nightfall.” He pointed to a dark line on the horizon. “There are the walls.”
She leaned against him. This was her last chance to change their fate. “Must we rush? I am with child and am tired.”
He halted the chariot and hailed the captains. “We’ll camp now.”
Turtanu pulled his chariot beside Ashur’s. “Why? With ease we can reach the city tonight.”
“Better to arrive during the day so the people can share our triumph.” He laughed. “Also, I have just learned I’m to be a father and would celebrate with Istari this night.”
Istari saw Mardu whisper in the other man’s ear. Turtanu nodded. “You’re right. When we ride tomorrow, you should bear the statue of Marduke in your chariot.”
A sense of foreboding filled Istari’s thoughts. She was certain the pair schemed against Ashur. The stars moved toward the pattern that meant the death of the man she loved. She must find a way to defeat fate.
Ashur lifted her from the chariot. “I’ll have the tent set and meet with my captains. See that the cook brings our meal to the tent.” He strode away.
Mardu grabbed Istari’s arm. “The child you carry will never breathe or cry. Give me the seal of the temple so I may enter Nineveh as the high priestess.”
Istari shook her head. “I cannot. The seal is not for you.”
“Then I will take it from you after you are gone.”
“What evil do you plan?”
“Not evil. Justice. The diviners have spoken and I have heard. The astrologers have their charts and know. Look to the stars and see the truth.”
Istari pulled away. Mardu was right and wrong. There was a chance for the fate to be changed. She had to convince Ashur to leave and flee with her.
When she entered the tent, she found Ashur and the captains discussing their grand entrance into the city. Ashur leaned forward. “Our making camp has allowed the tribute wagons and slaves to catch up.”
Turtanu’s snide smile made Istari stiffen. Hatred flashed in his dark eyes. “After some consideration I’ll take Marduke into my chariot,” he said.
“The statue goes with me,” Ashur said. “The captive god travels to Nineveh with the leader of the army.”
Istari gasped. “No.”
Ashur waved his men toward the tent opening. “You are dismissed. I must see to my woman.” Once the others had departed, Ashur took Istari into his arms. “Don’t fear, my star. Not for you the wagon with the slaves. You will ride with me.”
She sank to her knees and grasped his legs. “Ashur, please. What if the god chooses to punish you for what happened in the temple?”
He chuckled. “He should be pleased for he returns to his home.”
She swallowed. “I love you. I want to see you hold our child. Don’t go to Nineveh. Let us leave this camp and find a place where we can live from all strife.”
He pulled her to her feet. “I’ve heard being with child gives a woman strange notions. All will be well.”
“Not the child. The stars. I lost my country and my family. The stars say my grief is not at an end. Heed my warning. Turtanu and Mardu mean you harm.”
He laughed. “Why would my friend want to hurt me?”
“He envies you. He listens to Mardu. She is angry that you chose me and rejected her. She plays on his inner demons.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Turtanu has gone as far in the ranks as is possible for one of his lowly birth. Harming me who stood as his sponsor makes no sense.”
“She has closed his eyes to what is real and feeds him a dream.”
His lips brushed hers. “Istari, I love you.”
She sucked in a breath. “Then come away with me.”
“And throw away my moment of triumph? When I enter Nineveh, the people will cheer. The king will honor me. I will become his son’s advisor. My name will be sung in the temples. How can you ask me to walk away?”
She lowered her gaze. “Once again ambition rules. If taking me into the city means my death and the end of your hope for a son? Will you not reconsider?”
He peppered her face with kisses. “Star of my heart, fear not. Once I bring the god and the spoils to the king, I will sit at his right hand. His sister will be my wife and you will be my beloved concubine. Your nights will be spent in my arms.”
Tears spilled over her cheeks. This choice had been made before. Ambition won over love and they were doomed. She pressed her face against his chest.
“Come, show me the depth of your love.” He opened her dress and when she was nude laved her breasts with his tongue. “Soon my son will feast here and I will envy him.” He led her to the pillows and stripped off his clothes. He knelt beside her and stoked her abdomen. “Hard to believe my son grows here.”
She placed her hands over his. “The time is too soon for my body to change.”
“Your breasts are larger.”
She beat back her fears and touched him. “As does your spear.”
He growled. “Istari, I need you, want you, love you.”
“Then come with me for I am yours now and forever, just as I was in our past life.” To hide a surge of fear and grief, she pulled him closer. He thrust inside and she forgot all but him.
Twice more that night they made live. At dawn, they broke their fast and dressed. As they walked to the chariot, Istari held Ashur’s hand. She felt as though she went to her doom.
The smile on Mardu’s face increased Istari’s uneasiness. The other woman’s eyes glittered with hatred and secrets. A chill slithered along Istar’s spine.
The statue of Marduke was lashed to the rear of Ashur’s chariot. Instead of two horses, there were four. He lifted Istari into her place. She grasped his shoulders. “If you won’t go with me, have the men remove Marduke.”
He laughed and leaped beside her. He grasped the driving reins. “Don’t be afraid. Think of my triumph. People will cheer and toss flowers. You can gather them to scent our bed this night.”
Istari shook her head. “You do not understand. Your ambition rules this time as it did before. So be it.”
He snapped the reins. The double pair of horses moved forward. Turtanu’s chariot drew abreast. “You’re a fool to carry the statue. The extra weight will slow you and allow me to receive the first cheers.”
Ashur laughed. “We will see who is first. You have never bested me in a race.” He urged the horses into a gallop. They thundered toward the wall of the city. The statue swayed from side to side. One of the ropes binding the heavy stone to the chariot snapped.
“Slow the horses,” Istari screamed. A second rope broke. The chariot jerked and bucked. Istari was tossed into the air. The horses screamed.
She slammed into the ground. Pain rocketed through her body. “Ashur,” she cried. With slow and excruciating movements, she dragged herself to where he lay beneath the statue. She bathed his face with her tears. “My love.”
“Next time, my star.” He shuddered. His eyes lost awareness.
She glared at the statue of Marduke. “You have had your revenge. Why us when Mardu betrayed you?”
“Istari, Istari.” Lamaru knelt beside her. Tears rolled over the girl’s cheeks.
“The necklace. Take it. Lamaru-ishtaru I name you. Do not let Mardu know you have the seal.”
The girl fumbled with the fastening. “Let me help you.”
“Too late.” Istari rolled on her side and kissed Ashur’s cheek. “MY love, why didn’t you listen?” She heard no answer.
* * *
A rapping on the door pulled Astrid from the vivid trip in the past. She rubbed her arms to erase the chill she felt. Another betrayal. What was happening? Was there a message to be found in these dreams? If only she could remember more than finding love and being betrayed but the images and experiences had faded by the time she reached the door.
As she greeted Sarah, the image of the dying priestess flashed in her thoughts. Ishtar-ishtaru, her foster mother in that alien land. “Come in.”
“I can’t stay. Brought you a check I didn’t want to leave in the cash register drawer.”
“Must be a large one.”
Sarah smiled. “That charming Mr. Garrett dropped by to see you. He bought that pectoral you put on display this morning.” Her lips quirked. “Just think of how great he would look wearing that piece and one of those brief Egyptian kilts. As they say, the man is hot.
Astrid laughed. “Aunt Sarah.”
The older woman patted Astrid’s hand. “A woman’s never too old to admire a well-honed body. Even Clive is easy on the eyes. Bit hard on the head, though.” She peered past Astrid. “Looks like you’ve made a good start.”
“And was diverted.” She decided not to tell Sarah about her trip to some ancient past. “Any idea what Dad was up to?”
Sarah shook her head. “Research, he said. Had me finding books at the library and in used bookstores. No rhyme or reason to his selection that I could see.” She winked. “Back to Mr. Garrett. He was disappointed to find you weren’t there.”
Astrid stared at the floor. Even the mention of his name made her feel flushed. “Did he say why?”
Sarah chuckled. “When an eligible man asks about an equally eligible woman, there’s no reason to ask why. Are you interested?”
“Maybe.” Astrid felt a pulsing spread through her body. What was wrong with her? Thinking about her made her want to be in his arms.
“He gives off good vibes,” Sarah said.
What he emits is an invitation to sin, Astrid thought. When she recalled how close she’d come to surrender, she hoped she wouldn’t see him for years, even decades.
“He mentioned an excellent rehab facility. Said he was visiting your father after he left the store. I’m heading there after dinner. See you tomorrow.”
Astrid closed the door. She wrapped the necklace in cloth and shoved the packet in a drawer of her father’s dresser. After a quick shower, she grabbed the portfolio of photos and drove to the hospital. As she left the car, she saw Duncan emerge from the entrance. She’d hoped to avoid him. Though she wanted to remain in the car, she wasn’t a coward. She opened the door.
Duncan strode across the driveway. “Good. I wanted to talk to you.”
“This morning was a mistake.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so. Want me to prove you’re wrong? Could do it here and now.”
Astrid breathed in the scent of him and felt blood rush through her veins. “Let’s call this a stalemate, Mr. Garrett.”
“Only if you call me Duncan. Why don’t I hang around until you’re finished with your visit? I’ll take you to dinner.”
“I’m booked.” She stepped around him.
He placed his hands on her shoulders. Memories of the kiss flooded her.
“Tomorrow after Antiquities closes?”
She stiffened. “I don’t have time to become involved with you or anyone.”
“We’re already involved.”
His breath brushed her nape sending a message she wanted to accept. Could she spend time with him and not succumb to the desire to taste passion? This time she had to be cautious. She frowned. Where did that come from?
“Will you?”
“Dinner, then. Tomorrow.”
He turned her to face him. “We’ll take the sex slow and easy.”
“What?” She felt her face flame.
He grinned. “I have some ideas about your father’s rehab. We’ll talk about them over dinner.”
“Why are you taking an interest?”
“I like him. From the moment I entered Antiquities, I felt a connection.” He shrugged. Can’t explain that any more than I can my craving for you.”
She shook her head. “Bury your craving. I’ll meet you at any restaurant you choose.”
“I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow and let you know.” He leaned closer. “Sex will be incandescent.”
Astrid strode into the hospital. He was right but she wasn’t sure she wanted to play his game.
* * *
Duncan started the sports car. Instead of going home, he headed to the Thruway north and hit the gas. Thoughts of seduction pulsed with the hard rock blaring from the speakers. He grinned. She’d agreed to dinner. He felt like a teenager who’d just been accepted by the most popular girl in high school.
Dinner. He knew the perfect place. Soft music, candlelight, great food. He owned a piece of the restaurant and the private booth in the rear corner was his whenever he asked.
For a moment, he could almost feel her skin beneath his hands. He sucked in a breath. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been this obsessed with any woman. Even his teenage years hadn’t kept him in a state of constant arousal.
This afternoon, he’d stopped at Antiquities. He’d been disappointed not to find her. He bought a pectoral. The desire to own the piece had been almost as strong as his desire for Astrid. A picture of a nude woman lifting the jewelry over a man’s head had flashed into his thoughts. Had the incident been real or the product of a vivid imagination?
At the last exit before the toll, he left the Thruway, did a U-turn and drove back to town. Time for another cold shower and to make arrangements for tomorrow’s dinner.
* * *
Astrid left the hospital and hurried home. As she started to the steps, Paula called her name. Astrid waited. “Good timing.”
“I try.”
Astrid led the way and opened the door. Paula put her package on the bar and walked to the large picture window. “What a great view. I envy you.”
“Just mine for the summer. Do you live in town?”
“My small house isn’t far from the hospital. Part of a divorce settlement. Next time, I’ll have you there.”
Astrid took a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. “Will you join me?”
Paula nodded. She took two wrapped packets and two containers from her bag. She pointed to the pair. “Dessert. White chocolate soufflé with raspberry sauce served in a chocolate fudge shell.”
“Calories.”
Paula laughed. “We’ll make up for the ones we don’t consume with the pitas. How’s your dad?”
Astrid poured two glasses of wine. “Improving. He loved the pictures.” Another moment of her visit to the hospital intruded and she sighed.
“Problems?”
“Maybe. What do you know about Duncan Garrett?”
“A bit. Why?”
“He invited me to dinner tomorrow evening. Seems he has plans for Dad’s rehab.”
Paula raised her glass. “Go. Enjoy. He’s all make and gorgeous. Would love to do a nude study of him.”
Astrid laughed. “Aunt Sarah wants to see him wearing a pectoral and an Egyptian kilt.”
“He’s definitely drool material.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Just dreaming of the impossible. His family has lived in the area for ages. He probably owns half of town with an interest in any number of local businesses. He runs them.”
Astrid frowned. Did he own part of Antiquities? Her father had never mentioned a partner, silent or otherwise.
Paula carried the pitas and dressing to the table. “Garrett’s kind of a Renaissance man. Black belt in some form of martial arts. Skis, sails, swims and drives a killer car. He’s published two action/adventure novels. Supports the local arts community.”
Astrid grinned. “Sounds like a Jack of all.”
“And master of most. He was an only child and his parents died when he was five or sic. His grandfather raised him. Garrett was never married, engaged or divorced. Any woman involved with him shouldn’t think long-term.”
Astrid looked away. “I’m not going there… I wonder why I never met him. After my mother died, I came here to live with my father and went to the local high school.”
Paula refilled her glass. “No mystery there. He attended a private school across the river. Go to dinner and enjoy. Just keep him at arm’s length.”
Could she? Astrid picked up her pita. After the kiss and her reaction to him this afternoon she wasn’t sure she could.