Treasures of the Heart

Published by Awe-Struck E-Books

Copyright ©2003

ISBN: 1-58749-431-0

Electronic rights reserved by Awe-Struck E-Books, all other rights reserved by author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law.

Dedication

For my mother, Joan Koch, who suffered through years of epilepsy before anyone even knew what was wrong with her and all other epileptics who work hard at having normal lives.

Chapter One

Keri was on her way. She'd been fired up for the past twenty-four hours. She had an extra cup of high-test coffee that morning. Only coffee because she was afraid she might throw up if she ate anything. She was strung as tense as a Wall Street broker in a bear market.

Wearing her best suit and a new pair of expensive shoes, she plunged in through the front door of the Richmond Historical Museum. And pushed the ornate wooden door that had come from a sunken Spanish galleon, right into a man's face. He fell straight back to the imported Italian marble floor like a perfectly timed stunt in a movie.

Only it wasn't one.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Do you need a doctor? Do you need an ambulance? I could call someone. I'm so sorry! I just didn't see you and then you were there and--" She heard a cracking sound and realized that one of the heels from her new pumps had snapped off. Her purse fell to the floor and half of its contents fell out.

"It's all right, ami." He looked down at her woeful countenance and extended his hand to her. "My nose is a little out of joint but otherwise, I will live."

Keri cleaned up her purse and took his hand. She stood up slowly and blinked back hot tears when she looked at the smudge on her suit and her broken heel. How could this happen to her on today of all days? After five years, she had finally convinced herself that she was going to have it out with her boss, Mr. Grainger, and now it was all ruined. She was a mess and this man, whoever he was, would probably sue her for disfiguring him.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine. I-I just--" She really looked at him for the first time. He actually didn't look a bit disfigured. In fact, he looked pretty good. He was tall and broad shouldered, without having the overbearing build of a wrestler. His dark brown hair was slightly unruly and a little too long. His deep blue eyes were a shock in his darkly tanned face. They smiled at her, along with his lips. He had nice lips. And that curious accent was-- "I-uh-can I help you? I work here, actually. This part of the museum is only offices and research. The curator--"

"I am here to see the curator," the man replied confidently. "Or whoever is in charge of expeditions."

"Expeditions?"

"Oui. I am Armand St. Jacques and I have something in my possession that I think will be of interest to the person in charge of expeditions. I think he," he smiled at her again, "or she, will want to create an expedition at once!"

"It takes something pretty extraordinary to fund an expedition."

He shrugged. Very elegant. Very European. "That is not the problem. I will happily fund such an expedition. Money is not the object! The truth is what matters to me."

"The truth?" She felt dazed and confused. It was one of those rare moments when destiny hits you hard in the head, leaving you dazed and confused.

"Yes!" He put his briefcase on the counter. Then he opened it and withdrew a carefully wrapped book. "I am the last survivor of a proud family. My great grandpere told my grandmother who in turn told the tale to my mother and then to me. I want only to know the truth. Am I the last descendent of the Bourbon throne?"

"W-what?" She almost swallowed her tongue.

"It is all there in the diary of the woman who cared for the Dauphin after he was brought to America following his mother's and father's executions."

She whispered, "Marie Antoinette and King Louis XXXI?"

"Exactly."

"Th-that's not possible. He died in France."

He smiled at her slowly. She felt something slide through her body like quicksilver. Her heart skipped a beat then went back to its normal rhythm. He was a very attractive man.

"Accepted history. Until now. Suppose I could prove to you that he did not die in France, but rather on a small island off the coast of Alabama, in the United States?"

"I-I don't know." She didn't want to explain to the curator that this man had convinced her to speak to him about an expedition because he was attractive. There had to be proof. Hard proof. Even then, the curator might laugh at her. It wasn't technically her job to find new expeditions. Everything else about them was her job. Just not finding them. Or going out on them.

"I have such proof," he said finally. "If you will give me a few moments of your time?"

Keri wasn't just tempted. She was downright seduced by the notion. The dauphin had died in the U.S., not France. This man had some kind of proof. He was looking at her with those very interesting blue eyes. A plan began to form in her brain. She felt like the Grinch before Christmas morning. She got an idea. An awful idea. Keri got a wonderful, awful idea. Hadn't she been looking for something exactly like this to change her life?

Maybe it was a hoax. It sounded like a hoax. She saw enough of those and knew how to check them out. That was part of her job at the museum. There would be a lot to check. Her brain ticked all of the requirements off one by one.

But the longer they stood there, the better the chance that Mr. Grainger was going to walk through that door. After that, it would be in his hands. After that, she would have lost her chance forever. She looked at the diary Armand St. Jacques had given her. Take a chance, her brain whispered. What do you have to lose? This could be your opportunity!

"Well, you've been knocked over by the right woman." She extended her hand. "I'm Keri Marsh and I'm in charge of expeditions for the museum. If you'd like to come this way, we can talk in my office."

Armand's face lit up. "Oui! Fortune smiles on me!"

Keri took the diary in her trembling hands and slung her purse across her shoulder. She led Armand past Mr. Grainger's office to her own small corner beside the boiler room. If she were caught going behind the curator's back, she would lose her job. She pushed that thought from her head. The important thing right now was to convince Armand St. Jacques that she really was the person in charge of expeditions. She saw him looking around her small office with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Please, sit down." She opened a folding chair for him, then squeezed past him with a smile. She sat down behind the student desk she used for her own. "I apologize for my temporary office but they're taking asbestos out of my regular office so I'm stuck here right now. Coffee?"

"No, merci. You will look at the diary?"

She nodded and put the book on her desk. Then she smiled at him again, nervously, and unwrapped the diary.

Armand explained. "This was written by a woman named Brier Florent who cared for the Dauphin from the time he was brought to America as a small child until he died at the age of twenty six. She had three children by the Dauphin but they could not be acknowledged because it was believed he might yet succeed to the throne. They were married moments before his death when they realized that he would never be king of France. This diary is her account of his life and death."

Keri opened the book and was immediately engrossed by the yellowed pages and flowing script. It looked like the genuine article to her expert eye but she'd have it appraised to be certain. She unfolded a small map that was in the front of the book. "What is this?"

"It is supposed to be the location of the dauphin's grave. They were careful where they buried him for fear that the Reign of Terror would still reach him and he would be dug up and exposed to the world as another sacrifice!"

She nodded, hearing the passion in his voice. "The diary has been passed down through your family?"

"Oui. But I am the last. So many have speculated. I must know the truth."

"I understand." She glanced at him. "You do know that if this is real, that you could be the direct heir to the throne of France?"

He smiled. "You are a romantic, Mademoiselle! There is no throne of France."

"True." She squinted down at the text, refusing to put on her glasses. Silly. But he was a very attractive man. "But having no Russian throne didn't stop people from being interested in the women who have claimed to be Anastasia. If this gets out, it could change your life."

He held up his hand. It was manicured but, surprisingly, had a few calluses. "I do not want this to be a public spectacle. I only want the truth."

"All right," she decided in her best authoritarian manner. "I'll check into it. You'll have to leave the diary here with me."

"Of course," he said as though he trusted her absolutely on their short acquaintance. "You will call me when you are satisfied that it is authentic, eh?"

"Yes." She stood and extended her hand to him. "Thank you for bringing this to me."

He took her hand in his larger one, holding it politely for a brief moment. "It was fate!"

"Fate," she agreed, feeling small tingles of feeling zing up her arms from her hand.

He smiled again and glanced down at their joined hands.

Keri jerked her hand away, realizing that she was acting like an idiot. "I'll walk you out." She didn't want him to accidentally run into Mr. Grainger and ruin the whole thing without realizing it. They walked back around the boiler area and into the main lobby.

"You will be in touch soon?" Armand smiled at her.

"Yes, of course." She glanced anxiously around for her boss and kept as much space as she could between herself and Armand. He seemed to have a brain numbing effect on her.

"What about dinner?"

"What?" Her foot slipped on the Italian marble.

He grabbed her arm and brought her upright to face him. "Dinner. You must eat, non?"

"No." She laughed awkwardly, conscious of his hand on her arm. "I mean, yes, I do eat but--"

"No? You will not eat with me because I am a stranger?" He looked down into her face. His eyes studied every aspect of her features in an intimate manner that made her feel warm and fuzzy.

Keri pulled herself up and pushed out her chin. "Dinner. Of course. We could talk about the project and y-your background with the diary." She was going to have to learn to deal with people and not just dusty old books and supply lists if she were going to see her dream come to pass.

"Tonight? I am unfamiliar with your city." He smiled and handed her a card. It was from the Park Regent, an expensive hotel downtown.

"All right," she agreed, taking the card in what she hoped was a professional manner. "I'll pick you up. About eight?"

He nodded and released her arm. His fingers were warm against her cool flesh. "We can discuss our knowledge of the Capet family, eh? And the romance of legends."

The way he was smiling at her made her heart speed up again. She smiled weakly and remembered Mr. Grainger. She managed to put a damper on her excitement. Armand, despite his warm looks and casual touches, was only talking about dinner and historical conversation. It wasn't like they had anything personal between them. They were business associates.

Not that she wanted to be anything else. The man was gorgeous and well mannered and probably rich but this was business. She just hadn't been out in a while and sometimes she felt a little desperate. She put out her hand and he took it in his again. "I'll see you tonight then."

He squeezed her hand gently and held it a little longer than was polite. "Until tonight."

Keri cleared her throat and forced herself to breathe. "Until tonight."

Armand left her and not a moment too soon. Mr. Grainger was coming into the building as Armand was walking out. The two men nodded at each other but otherwise didn't give any sign of noticing one another.

"Who was that?" Mr. Grainger asked Keri.

"He was lost," she lied as he handed her his coat.

"Oh. No trouble, was he?"

"No. None at all." Her hand still tingled where Armand had touched it.

"Is the coffee made yet?" Mr. Grainger looked at his empty cup.

"No, Mr. Grainger."

He glanced up from his cup to her face. "Is there a problem, Keri?"

Pumped by her meeting with Armand, she looked him in the face. "I want to talk to you."

"All right," the curator agreed. "Come into my office."

When they were in his large, well furnished office, he took a seat behind his huge antique desk and smiled at her. "What is it, Keri?"

Mr. Grainger was a thin man with a broad English accent in his middle fifties. He'd been curator of the Richmond Historical Museum for almost twenty years. He had a habit of twiddling his thumbs when he was nervous. Keri looked down. He was twiddling his thumbs.

She looked at the walls that were lined with artifacts from past digs. "I want to talk to you about going out in the field." The speech that she'd given him annually for the past three years always began the same way.

"We've been over this before," he explained in a slightly singsong, slightly tolerant voice of a father with a precocious child.

"I know but you promised me that I would be a real archaeologist! When I came here out of college, you told me that I didn't need my Master's degree to work on a dig. I know everything about them. I can arrange one. I can find any information about a place or the people who live there. But I want to go out on a real dig, Mr. Grainger!"

"I understand, Keri. And maybe someday, you will. But we have to consider your-er-illness."

Keri felt defeated and angry. "I'm not ill. And I haven't had a seizure in two years."

"Isn't it enough to know that when I'm ready to retire in fifteen years that you will take my place here as curator of this museum? You'll oversee funding of digs and expeditions. You'll decide what pieces will go into the museum. Can't you be a little patient?"

"But I want to go on a dig. That was why I studied archaeology. To dig, not to curate!"

He stood up, came around the desk and put his arm around her shoulders in a fatherly fashion. "Keri, trust me. I know you. I know what's best for you. A dig is messy and you wouldn't like it. You have a bright future here. Don't throw that away on some silly schoolgirl dream! I know a dig sounds romantic but surely you know that life isn't always as it seems!"

She nodded, defeated, as always, when she talked to him. The truth was that she believed him. Everyone at the museum knew she would take his place. Her future was assured. The museum board liked her. Everyone always complimented her on doing an excellent job. But it was her dream to find a treasure that had been buried away for five hundred years. She wanted to solve a mystery besides where she'd put her car keys or where Mr. Grainger had filed his last fiscal report. Maybe that would mean getting dirty. Maybe she would be disappointed, but her soul yearned for it. "I'm going to work on the Stephenson dig."

"Good girl." He patted her shoulder. "Get me that supply list ASAP. Oh, and Keri?"

She looked back at him with a flutter of expectation in her heart. "Yes?"

"Don't forget that coffee, please?" He smiled and took his seat again. "Good girl."

Keri put on the coffee and slunk back to her little office. She looked at the book on her desk. It seemed to have a rosy glow to it. Here's your mystery, it seemed to say to her. Here's the mystery that's waiting for you to solve.

She walked to the desk and touched the old, leather-bound pages. She could do it. She could organize this dig and do the work herself. With outside money backing it, she could do it without Grainger knowing about it. She had a few weeks of vacation coming. She could set the whole thing up and, for once, follow her heart.

"Keri?" Mr. Grainger called as he walked into her office.

"Yes?" She used her body to shield the book from his eyes.

"I think we're almost out of coffee creamer. Could you get some when you go out at lunch? Maybe some of that new hazelnut flavored stuff." He chuckled. "Now that will be an adventure!"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"No problem." When he was gone, Keri slid behind her desk and put on her ugly black rimmed glasses. She looked carefully at the old text in the diary and followed the lines and the markings on the map. The map and the diary were written with the same flowing hand. From an era when most people couldn't write at all, she wasn't surprised that Brier Florent had been taught to read and write because she would be taking care of the young prince. He was royalty. He would be expected to be literate. Brier was fourteen when the twelve-year-old prince was brought to America to protect him from the Terror that reigned in France.

Keri sat back in her chair and took off her glasses. It was nearly noon. She had spent all morning reading the elegant handwriting of the girl who became a woman taking care of a boy, then a man she always expected to lose. The prose was beautiful. The girl had really loved the young dauphin. She had been prepared to give her life for him, if necessary. Keri closed the book.

It was beautiful, but if she were going to go into the field on the strength of this work, she was going to have to know that it was authentic. It would have to be tested for age and documented for verification. If not, any find she might make could be worthless. She packed up the book and went out into the late winter sunshine.

Keri dropped off the diary and map with one of the experts they used for appraisal. He was on the outs with Mr. Grainger and hadn't had any work from them in a while. Keri thought that would make it less likely that he would talk to Mr. Grainger and not her. Not that most people talked to Mr. Grainger. She handled these situations for the museum. The only thing she didn't do was dig. She walked into a sports store to look at tents and camping gear. That was about to change.

Later that evening, she had a small attack of conscience when the Stephenson papers weren't ready for Mr. Grainger. She'd spent too long at lunch, looking at the supplies for her own dig.

Mr. Grainger sighed. "When will it be done, Keri?"

"Tomorrow," she promised.

"Because they're due in Singapore in less than a week."

"I know."

"And you know how temperamental Stephenson can be when he doesn't get what he needs."

"Yes, Mr. Grainger."

"But you'll come through. You always do."

She nodded.

"Still upset about the dig?"

"Yes," she answered honestly.

"Maybe you can oversee something in a year or two. You know, project supervisor."

"Thanks," she answered with little enthusiasm. All a project supervisor did was stand around and count supplies.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Keri."

"Goodnight, Mr. Grainger."

Keri sighed and looked around the empty office. She went back into her office and managed to finish the Stephenson documents for supplies before six thirty. She did know how Tom Stephenson could be! Last year at the Christmas party, he'd cornered her and tried to kiss her. He'd ended up spilling punch down her blouse then offering to clean it up with his mouth. It still made her shudder to think about it. She took off a case of his favorite cookies that had to be sent to Singapore and added a case of chocolate bars. Stephenson was allergic to chocolate.

Turning off the lights and locking the door behind her, she recalled that she was picking Armand up at the hotel at eight. Wishing she hadn't agreed to the dinner, she hurried home as the rain began to turn to ice on her windshield. She sighed and let herself into her apartment. "Dawn?"

Her roommate wasn't home. Dawn was a flight attendant so Keri never knew when she was going to be there. She'd left in a hurry again, as usual. Her clothes were all over the apartment. Keri picked them up as she walked through the rooms to reach her bedroom. If she didn't love her apartment so much, she would look for one she could afford without a roommate. She and Dawn had known each other all of their lives, but sometimes Keri felt like the other woman took advantage of her. She thought about Mr. Grainger's words that day. Maybe she'd been a good girl for too long.

Keri smiled and stepped into the shower. She was going to have to get over her feelings of being powerless. She'd read that in a fortune cookie last week. She had to be more assertive. She had to take control of her life. That included her problem with being epileptic. Her new medicine was working very well. She'd had not even a hint of a problem since she started taking it. She was sorry she'd told Mr. Grainger. All of her life people had treated her special and made her feel she wasn't quite up to having a real life. But she knew she was ready and she knew she could handle it.

Warming up to the subject as she showered, she got out and looked around Dawn's cluttered bedroom for something to wear. She and Dawn were the same size but that's about as close as their wardrobe came to being the same. Dawn was a risk taker. She only dated guys with money and she only wore expensive perfume. The real kind, not the kind from the mall with a name that was close to Chanel but was really Chanelli.

Keri found one of Dawn's outfits still on a hanger and took it to her room. It was a pink knit skirt and matching sweater. It was too tight, too short, and too noticeable to be something that would hang with the teacher's mid-calf skirts and vests with apples on them in her own closet. Her clothes would panic and run away when they saw them! The soft angora material of the pink outfit was a little fuzzy. It tickled her nose as she pulled on the sweater. Dawn always teamed the outfit with pink boots but Keri couldn't get them on her feet.

Instead, she wore a pair of black boots that fit her legs snugly and stopped just short of where the skirt ended. Keri looked at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair was straight, to her shoulders, and her brown eyes were aghast at the picture she presented in the mirror. It was already seven forty five. There wasn't time to change again. Hastily, she drew on an almost floor length, black wool coat she'd bought last year. It was just dinner, she reasoned. She'd take the coat off when she sat down at the table and put it back on before she left. Next time, she'd stay in her own closet with her boring but familiar clothes!

The streets had gotten icier since she'd been home. It was dark. Most people had enough sense to stay off the road. She was glad she didn't live far from the hotel. The weatherman on the radio was calling for the ice to warm up to rain shortly. Keri hoped so for her return trip. She managed to slip and slide to the front of the hotel where a valet gave her a ticket and drove away with her car. Her little Ford looked slightly dejected parked between a shiny BMW and a Ferrari.

The Park Regent was a grand old lady hotel. The ceilings were plastered and painted with murals. The wide staircase, paved in red carpet, curved down to meet the foyer. A huge chandelier, dripping with shimmering crystal, hung above her head as she walked in and looked for Armand. Keri felt like she was making an entrance at a society ball. She remembered Dawn's outfit and held her coat tightly around her slender form.

"Keri!" Armand approached her.

She smiled, feeling awkward. Like the time in high school she'd gone to school wearing sexy garters she'd bought from a catalogue her mother called trash. She'd thought about them all day long. She never had the nerve to flash them at anyone but she knew that they were under her clothes. She knew that the pink skirt and sweater were inappropriate for a business meeting. Sometimes, she wondered if she did those things just to annoy herself.

"Monsieur St. Jacques," she acknowledged him, trying to put them on the right footing.

He frowned, his handsome face disappointed. "But we are to be friends, non? You must call me Armand. And I will call you Keri."

He said her name differently than most people. It was more like it rhymed with cherie than Barry. He held out his hand to her and she took it. His fingers stroked along hers and he smiled. Just a simple gesture. What was she getting so worked up about?

He'd changed clothes, too. He was wearing a dark suit and a blue shirt that was open at the throat. She felt a little light-headed looking at him. She tried to blame it on the excitement of the expedition she would be mounting. She failed miserably when she found herself staring at his mouth and wondering what it would feel like if he kissed her. She was happy and excited by the idea of the expedition to find the dauphin but that wasn't the part of her brain that was working.

"All right. Armand." She tried not to grin like an idiot and failed miserably at that, too. "I know a little place a few miles from here that--"

"I was thinking, with the weather, that we might just eat here," he suggested. "I do loathe ice, don't you?"

"Yes. I suppose that would be fine. I've heard they have an excellent restaurant here. In fact--"

"On a night like this?" There was a gentle laugh in his voice. "To celebrate the beginning of our mutually advantageous partnership? I do not think so, cherie! Come with me. I took the liberty of ordering for us."

Keri was standing in the elevator, looking at her boots, trying to decide if she should tell him that they couldn't eat in his room because it was a business dinner. Armand was standing beside her, not touching her or crowding her or spilling his drink down her blouse. Still, she felt gauche and unequipped to handle the situation.

She wasn't sure if he was attracted to her or even if she were really attracted to him. Maybe it was just the excitement of the dig and the idea that they would be making history. She didn't want to make a fool of herself. She glanced at him hesitantly. Her heart pounded and her face flushed like a schoolgirl! She looked away quickly. No, it wasn't just the idea that they would be making history. It was something more. It was something more like a hot fudge sundae where you couldn't see how far down the hot fudge went in the cup. It was something deeper and darker and sweeter.

"Are you all right?"

Keri jumped. "Oh, yes. I was-uh-just looking at the carpet. I was thinking about having my carpeting replaced later this year and I thought this might look good in my place."

They both looked down at the bright scarlet carpet under their feet.

Armand smiled at her. "I should think it would all depend on where you live, cherie!"

"It's an apartment," she replied with just a trace of the awkward nervousness she felt in the pit of her stomach. "Just a plain apartment. I share it with a friend."

"Oh? What is his name?"

"Oh, not a man. Her name is Dawn. She's a flight attendant. We're very close."

"And you and this Dawn are--" He entwined his two fingers. "Together?"

"Oh, no! Not like that! We're friends. From high school. We live together to afford a nicer place. We date...men. Other men. Not that we're men." She glanced at him. He was looking down into her face and smiling. "I'm really hungry."

"You are delightful," he complimented. "When I walked into the museum this morning, I had no idea that someone like you would be waiting there for me."

"Or knock you down with the door, I bet."

"That, too," he agreed with a laugh.

"I'm sorry about that." She studied his nose, admiring the sculpted shape of it. "Is your nose all right?"

He leaned a little closer to her. "See for yourself, petite. No bruises or scars."

Keri couldn't quite seem to find his nose, although he was very close. She should have been able to see it but her eyes seemed to be locked on his eyes. The blue she saw there was calling to her. She was dizzy, like she was drowning in the fabulous color, spinning around and around until--

The elevator door chimed and the door slid quietly open. Two couples got into the elevator while she and Armand walked out.

Armand took her hand again. "I am eager to pick your mind."

Keri swallowed hard. "Uh-I-uh--"

He laughed and squeezed her hand. "I only meant that metaphorically, cherie. You look terrified!"

She laughed in turn. "Of course! I mean, I understand the metaphor."

He stopped in front of one of the white doors in the hallway. "Here we are, Keri. Are you...hungry?"

Chapter Two

The hotel suite was elegant and sumptuously decorated. The ceiling was ten feet high and the carpet underfoot was snowy white. Keri took a step into the room and Armand closed the door behind them.

"Wine?" He opened a huge wooden chest to reveal a fully stocked bar. "Dinner should be here soon."

"Yes, please." She suppressed a shiver. She wasn't cold. God, no! That wasn't it at all! It was one of those experiences that was like watching the re-run of a movie. She was sure she'd been here before, saying yes to wine from this man, feeling the moment in every pore of her body.

"I have poured you an excellent claret." He brought the glass to her. "I see you shiver, non? The weather is most foul. This will warm you."

"Oh, I'm not cold," she assured him. "I love the cold weather."

"Oui? Then permit me to take your coat." He held out the glass to her and waited by her side for the coat.

Keri took the glass from him, gingerly touching his fingers as their hands moved against each other. She sipped the wine for courage. What could she say? Her brain was a minefield full of holes tonight. Thank God this man wouldn't be going on the expedition! She would probably get lost on the island and never find her way off again!

She smiled then slipped off her coat, careful of the glass in her hand. She saw the look on his face when he saw the pink angora outfit. Her mouth opened to explain the whole thing about borrowing Dawn's clothes and working late but she managed to be quiet. It would only make it worse. She sipped her wine and walked around the room, appreciating the crystal bric-a-brac and inspecting the paintings.

Keri finished her wine while she looked at one painting that was on a table. It was titled, Miranda, the Tempest and it was by John Waterhouse. It was a powerful painting and a good place to stand while she tried to get her unruly brain to function.

"Do you like it?" He Came up behind her and laid his warm hands on her shoulders.

"I do," she answered truthfully. "It's very potent. She's beautiful."

"Bon! This one is mine. I bought it today."

She tried to drink more wine from her glass but it was empty. Instead, she swallowed hard. "I see."

"More wine?"

"No. I-I should wait and eat before I have anymore. My brain might shut down if I drink anymore."

He laughed. "I doubt that, Keri. I think you are possessed of a wonderful, intelligent brain." His hands moved lightly on her shoulders. "And this color is very good with your face and hair."

Her throat was dry, despite the wine. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. When he turned her around to face him and took the glass from her hand, she looked into his face and knew that he was going to kiss her. Her brain whirled, wondering when the last time was she'd had a breath mint and if her lipstick was smudge-proof. Her legs felt like they were made of jelly worms and somehow, they had also invaded her stomach. "Armand." Her voice squeaked on his name.

"Cherie?"

Their mouths were only a fraction of an inch apart when she surrendered to the idea that she wanted him to kiss her. She sighed and closed her eyes and shuddered as his arms went around her. Her hands crept up around his neck. Her lips parted and she felt herself catch her breath.

A knock sounded from the door and a voice rang out from behind it. "Dinner!"

Neither one of them moved. They were trapped just a breath away from something powerful and mysterious.

"Dinner!" The voice rang out again.

Keri saw Armand's eyes widen and darken. She heard him swear softly under his breath. Then he apologized and went to the door. Somehow, she managed to breathe. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that she knew nothing about this elegant stranger. They'd only met that day and she had no business craving anything but his money for this expedition. Even that, her life's passion, was contingent on learning more about the diary. Could she let herself go without learning more about him?

Armand paid the slightly obnoxious waiter who arranged the meal and leered at Keri in her short pink skirt. The man shuffled around the table a few more times then left the room with a last wink in her direction.

He probably thinks I'm a prostitute, she decided, thinking that she was standing in a man's hotel room, dressed like Dawn, probably looking like she was lusting after Armand. Which she wasn't, of course, but she did wish they had made it all the way through that kiss! Now, she'd be thinking about it all through dinner and watching his mouth and wondering what it would have been like.

"Dinner looks wonderful," she told him in a strained voice.

Armand didn't say anything. He walked back to her, looked at her briefly, then lowered his head and kissed her.

Keri was stunned at first, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight. His lips were cool and firm and he tasted like the claret. He smelled wonderful, of soap and aftershave and wine. He kissed like he said her name, with a foreign flair that made her groan and open her mouth, wanting more from him. His hands tangled in her hair and held her still while his mouth slanted across hers. His lips found all the wanting and the yearning and the romance in her soul.

When she felt like she would melt into him, he moved away from her slightly, their mouths losing contact. She opened her eyes but he shut them again with kisses then kissed her cheeks and her forehead and her ears and her chin. His mouth explored the hollows of her neck and the soft spot at her temple where her hair met her skin.

"I feel as though every kiss I have ever had could not prepare me for this one," he whispered to her. "You kiss like an angel."

Not sure what to say to that, Keri smiled and turned away from him.

"Forgive me, Keri," he said. "I could not wait another moment without knowing."

"Knowing?"

He kissed the back of her neck then touched her hair. "What you taste like, how your lips would feel on mine. The silk of your hair against my face and the perfume of your skin in my senses."

It was exactly how she had felt but it was too close to her heart. This was happening too quickly. It was too powerful. She felt overwhelmed by it. She felt overwhelmed by him. "I'm very hungry," she said at last.

"Ah, so am I!"

"And dinner looks great. Just great. Look at those little puff pastries! My mother made puff pastries when I was a child," she rattled on without caring if he was cooperating. "My mother was an excellent cook."

He smiled and went to hold her chair for her at the small table that had been set for them. "I'm sure she was, cherie. Do you cook?"

"No." She sat down hard on the gilt edged chair. "Well, not unless you count the microwave."

Armand laughed and took the seat opposite her. "I am afraid I, too, microwave."

Keri buttered a small piece of bread with a curl of butter from a silver dish. She stopped when he put his hand on hers.

"I did not mean to make you afraid of me," he said to her in a low voice. "If I rushed you, I apologize."

She didn't look at him but kept very still. "It's just that I don't know you. I know you don't know me either but you probably get out more than me. I need time."

"And knowledge?"

"And knowledge," she agreed.

"Bien! Let us open this bottle of champagne." He matched his deed to his words. The cork flew off across the room and the champagne foamed up. He filled two glasses and handed one to Keri. "To knowledge and knowing each other better."

She hit her glass against his and smiled into his eyes. "To knowing each other better." She drank her champagne and he refilled her glass.

"What can I tell you about me that will set your heart at ease, cherie?"

Keri played with the celery in her soup. "I don't know. I suppose you could tell me about yourself. You know what I do and where I live. And who I live with."

"The roommate! Yes! You are wondering if I have a roommate?"

She picked up her napkin. "Do you have a roommate?"

"No. Not a roommate. Or a live-in friend. Or a wife. Or a lover, for quite some time."

Satisfied to have made it through the first hurdle, she stopped twisting her linen napkin. "What do you do for a living?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "I travel and secure business dealings."

Keri didn't miss the hesitation. "Do you really work? Or are you just wealthy?"

"Being wealthy is work, cherie. Never let anyone tell you otherwise!"

She had her answer. That was why he'd hesitated. He hated to admit that he didn't really work. Not the way she understood it anyway. She could live with that. At least he hadn't hesitated over the question of the roommate. He was handsome. He was rich. He was charming. "Why don't you have a wife or a lover or someone?"

"Relationships are difficult, oui? One might ask you the same."

"I guess it's easier just not going out and looking for one."

"And the man who came to the office as I was leaving this morning?"

"My -uh-associate," she finished quickly. "Mr. Grainger."

"He must be blind."

"Why is that?"

"Otherwise, he would be here with you tonight instead of me."

After that, the conversation became one of mutual interest about the French monarchy and the history and legend that surrounded it. It was odd for Keri to talk with anyone outside of the museum who shared her passion for history and archaeology. The first time she glanced down at her watch, she felt like Cinderella. It was midnight. "I should go. It was a wonderful dinner."

"Made so by the company," he responded.

He got her coat and helped her with it. She was a little surprised when he didn't rest his hands on her shoulders or touch her in any way that could be construed as more than platonic. She was disappointed when he didn't try to kiss her again but felt sure it was for the best. The last kiss had turned out to be more than she'd imagined. She didn't know much more about him at the end of dinner than she had known at the beginning. It was always better to stay in the shallow end of the pool until you learned to swim.

"Goodnight, Armand," she said when she was at the door. "I'll let you know when I have the results on the testing."

"Good! Let me give you a number where you can always reach me." He wrote a number down on a piece of paper. "I will be flying to Switzerland tomorrow but I will be in Athens by Friday. Call me at this number anytime."

"You're leaving so soon?"

"I came to arrange the expedition, if possible, but my time is limited here. If I do not hear from you by Friday, I will call you. Perhaps you would like to fly to Athens for the weekend with me?"

The look of consternation must have been comparable to the panic she felt inside of her when he asked the question. It was hormones to the front and common sense already out the door! She was at war with every part of her mind and body as she struggled to say one thing when so much of her wanted to say another.

Armand put his finger gently on her lips. "Shh! Don't say it, cherie. I can see it on your face. Forgive me for asking but it was the devil in me. I will talk to you during the week."

She turned to walk out the door. He was going away. She didn't know when she was going to see him again. She might never see him again. He might just send her money for the expedition. She might not be able to jump in the deep end of the pool yet but dammit, she wasn't going to let the boat sail without her either!

Armand's face was a mask of total surprise when she turned back and threw herself at him. She closed her eyes and kissed him until their mutual surprise at her actions turned to mutual pleasure and satisfaction at being in each other's arms. She clung to him and slanted her mouth hungrily to meet his while his hands came up and slid around her, pressing her to him.

"Cherie!" He breathed a shallow gulp of air.

"Good night, Armand," she said then fled to the elevator.

* * *

Keri yawned and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the computer and put on her glasses. The opening page came up on the screen and she typed in Dawn's password. Sexy Lady. It had already brought her some interesting responses. "Okay, computer. Do your stuff." Her own computer was down for the count. Her salary from the museum wasn't much. She was going to have to save up for a while before she could buy another.

"I know why you're using my computer," Dawn had noted last night before she went to Germany on a late flight. "But why are you using my password? You could login with your own."

"I know," Keri replied, focused on the glowing screen. "I just don't want to take any chances."

It had been three months since she'd met Armand and he'd given her the diary. Three long months that had dragged by like a bad haircut growing back out. The time was only highlighted by calls from Armand or her calls to him. She alternated between elation that everything was going so well with the expedition and frustration because she wanted to see Armand again.

She wished she could tell him something was wrong, something that he would have to fly back to correct. But everything was right on schedule. Two historians had authenticated the diary. Her contact had been so surprised by the contents that he'd sent part of it to a colleague who came up with the same answer. The diary seemed to be the real thing.

The expedition was set up for the second week in February, before the high tides came in on the little island where they would be excavating. It would still be winter where she was but it would be warm on Dauphin Island. She had done as much preliminary work as she could from Virginia. The rest would have to be done on location.

The excitement that filled her was only laced with a little bit of apprehension. She knew she could do the job. Armand had been more than generous with his funding. She could do anything she wanted to do. Her conscience pricked her once in a while because she hadn't been honest with him before he invested his money in an archaeologist who had never dug more than a tomato garden in her backyard. But Keri was committed. She'd taken a month off from work. Some of that had been vacation time but some had been personal time. That had required that she lie to Mr. Grainger about having a sick aunt. The only one who knew the truth about all of it was Dawn. She didn't care, of course, but she did know the truth.

Keri knew she wouldn't be proof against Mr. Grainger reminding her again that she had epilepsy. Dawn knew, of course, but she didn't make a big deal out of it. She'd never seen Keri have a seizure. That might have made a difference. Her newfound confidence was a fragile thing. She was determined to go through with this. She'd take her medication and everything would be fine.

The computer finally got in on the archaeologist's chat room. Normally, she would have used the computer at the museum. Normally, she didn't have anything to hide. But this correspondence wasn't something she wanted anyone to see. She logged into the French Revolution chat room and waited impatiently.

The week before, she'd noticed that a man named Charlie Eller, his handle was merchant, had purchased the diary of a French ship's captain at auction there. The captain's name was mentioned in Brier Florent's diary. Since it seemed the two could be connected, she had left him several messages about buying the diary from him. He'd finally asked her to meet him in this chat room.

Hi there, sexy lady!

Hi!

I got your messages. Just got back in town. What can I do for you?

Keri took a deep breath and slowly released it. I'd like to buy the diary from you.

The ship captain's diary?

Yes.

I paid quite a bit for that one.

I know, she replied quickly. But I'd like to buy it anyway. She felt she could justify the expense to Armand when he understood the importance of it.

I'm sorry, sexy lady. Love your handle! But it's not for sale!

Keri frowned. I can pay you double what you paid for it!

Forty thousand US dollars?

"Forty thousand?" Keri said out loud. She looked at the auction minutes she'd printed up. It said 20 next to the diary. She thought it was twenty dollars. In her dreams, she thought she might have to go as high as two or three thousand.

I didn't realize, she typed back to him. Sorry for wasting your time.

No problem, he answered. Out of curiosity, why did you want the diary so badly?

She explained about the diary she already had but not about the upcoming dig. Forty thousand was too much to pay for the diary. If he knew the truth, he'd probably double it.

Good luck with your research anyway, he typed back. Sorry I couldn't be more help. Meet me at the Mardi Gras on Dauphin Island, Alabama, the twelfth of February and you can buy me a drink. I'll let you take a look at the diary.

Keri's heart quickened. What were the odds? She was going to be on Dauphin Island on the tenth. She didn't know that it was Mardi Gras time. She frowned but knew that it was too late to change her plans. What could it hurt meeting him? She only needed a few minutes with the diary to coordinate information from Brier's diary. There would be plenty of people around.

All right, she agreed. I'll be there.

Great! I'm looking forward to it!

How will I know you? She asked before he signed off.

The Island bar. 8pm. Order two tequilas with a twist. I'll be there.

See you then! she replied.

Merchant signed off. Keri sat back from the computer. She had just agreed to meet a man she didn't know. A man she had only talked to on the Internet, in a place she had never been in her life. If leaping from an assistant curator's job to a good spot on the archaeology staff meant taking risks, she was off to a good start!

She took off her glasses and switched off the computer. She had already looked at samples of the diary that the auctioneer had posted. She needed the information he held to add to what she already had from Armand. Together, it should make the whole picture.

Should was the operative word. There was no guarantee. Keri had worked at the museum for five years. She knew that information wasn't always accurate. Especially information that was over two-hundred-years-old. She'd seen digs based on less than what she had to go on do very well. She'd seen many fail. But she couldn't contain her excitement. She was going on a dig! After five years, she was finally going to do it. No help from Mr. Grainger! She owed everything to Armand. He'd made it all possible.

"All finished?" Dawn asked, without looking up from her magazine.

Keri nodded and flopped down on the sofa beside her friend. "I'm going to meet him at Dauphin Island."

Dawn looked up and wrinkled her nose. "Where's that?"

"Alabama. It's the place some folklore says the Royalists brought the dauphin when he was rescued from the Terror."

"Is that a movie?"

Keri smiled. Sometimes she forgot that history wasn't her friend's strong point. She explained the whole thing to her, stopping as she saw Dawn's eyes glaze over. "I know it's a lot to understand. But it could mean the beginning of my career in archaeology. Armand is funding the dig at the island. With the diary and map that he gave me and the diary 'merchant' brings with him, we might be able to find it."

Dawn nodded. "And what is 'it' again?"

"The place the dauphin was buried on--Dauphin Island. He was buried with a ring and a medallion that should prove who he was."

"Cool! Treasure and you're going to meet some mysterious stranger! I'd like to be there!"

They talked for a few more minutes. Then Dawn left for another flight. Keri microwaved a dinner and sat back in a chair to eat it. She thought about what Dawn had said. Treasure? Well, she supposed that the ring and the medallion could be classified as treasure, although she wouldn't be keeping either piece for herself. If she found them, they would be the proof that the dauphin had been rescued and brought to America. They belonged in a museum.

As for mysterious strangers, merchant sounded more like a businessman than a romantic figure. He hadn't wanted to sell the diary he'd acquired at the auction probably because he could see the possibility of making more money. Twenty thousand was a lot to pay for the diary, unless he was a serious collector. Or there was something in the diary about the dauphin escaping and that was why he was going to Dauphin Island! She sat upright and realized that someone else could be on the trail of the dauphin's grave.

She picked up the phone as she got on the computer. She dialed Armand's number as she looked at the airline schedule. There was a midnight flight leaving for Dauphin Island that night.

"Hello?"

"Armand?"

"Keri! How are you?"

"I'm fine." She punched in her name on the computer. "I'm leaving tonight for the island."

"So soon? Why?"

"I think someone else could be on to the idea that the dauphin is buried on that island!"

"Cherie, people have talked about it for two hundred years! Two more days aren't going to make much difference!"

"Maybe not but I've known of discoveries that were snatched out from under archaeologist's noses because they weren't there first!"

What she couldn't explain was how much this meant to her. It was part of her new persona. She wasn't going to be the curator's assistant any longer. She was going to take charge of her life and her career. If she were successful, Mr. Grainger and the museum board would have to see her in a new light, despite what it said on her driver's license. She could be in charge of expeditions. She would have to hire her own assistant to take notes and find supplies. "I'll keep you posted."

"Of that I trust absolutely. I feel privileged to have met you and persuaded you to undertake this task for me."

"And if I can't find the dauphin?"

"Then I will go on. Either truth will suit me, Keri. I am too old to deal with fantasies. The truth is more important. Bien! The people who surrounded me when I was young believed that I was the last descendent of the dauphin who escaped the Terror. I am interested to know if they were right. But either way, I will know the truth."

Keri's conscience nudged her a little. Hearing the sincerity in his voice, she felt compelled to confess that this would be her first dig. Only a stubborn survival instinct kept her mouth closed. She could do the job. She had the knowledge. She just needed the opportunity. Armand was providing that opportunity. She was willing to do almost anything to find the truth for him. In turn, it would show her the truth about herself. Was she just a curator's assistant posing as an archaeologist? Or was she really the independent, resourceful woman that she knew was inside of her?--a woman who fought every day not to feel the word epileptic branded on her forehead.

"So, when do you leave?"

"At midnight."

"Keri! That is too dangerous to be at the airport by yourself at that time of night!"

"Don't worry!" She laughed. "I've done this a hundred times! Besides, I know everyone at the airport because of my roommate, Dawn. They'll take care of me."

"You are a pleasure to work with, petite. You are both thorough and determined. With your pretty face and your ambition, you should go far!"

Keri felt her face get warm. "Thanks, Armand."

"Thank you. Please be careful!"

"I will. I'll talk to you later!"

Keri thought about his words as she got ready to go. She'd had her suitcase packed for a week already anyway. All of her gear was ready. Most nights, she was too excited to sleep. Armand believed that she could do the job. His trust and belief meant a lot to her. She wouldn't let him down.

On the plane, she began to review the texts and resources she had been saving for that moment. She re-read the diary with its brown and shriveled pages, even though she nearly knew it by heart. She re-read the information that had been posted about merchant's diary. Without knowing exactly what the diary said, she couldn't be sure if it contained more information about the dauphin. She had felt sure it had some information that corroborated what Brier had written. If it had more, she could be in trouble. But not if she got there first!

When she was finished, she sat back in her seat and thought about Armand. He'd changed her life. She wasn't sure Mr. Grainger would see it as a good thing, especially since she'd left him a hasty message on his answering machine, detailing her aunt needing her more suddenly than expected. She could see him shake his head and reflect on her more reliable days. Sometimes, she thought he'd hired her as assistant curator because he knew she was epileptic and he could hang it over her head. But those were on her darker days.

She wasn't sure if she would see Armand again. He was exciting and their time together had developed the quality of a dream about it. For one night, she'd finally understood Cinderella. In some ways, she wished he were going to be there with her, finding the dauphin's grave and sharing long nights at the site. Brier's diary was romantic and sweet. Reading it had made her crave something more in her life.

There would be time for that later, she decided with a yawn. She was going to Dauphin Island to make her dreams of being a world-class archaeologist come true. Not to find romance with a handsome stranger.

* * *

It was early morning, barely six am in Pittsburgh. Charlie Eller was packing his single tote bag. His sister, Dana, was writing tags for the other gear he was taking with him.

"So, you met some woman on the Internet and now you're flying out to meet her," she sighed. "How romantic!"

Charlie glared at her. "I think I already explained this to you once, Dana. Has having a baby short circuited your brain?"

Dana frowned. "Charlie, don't you read the newspapers?"

"No," he replied without looking up at her. "I read the wire services online."

"I suppose they wouldn't talk about people who get killed by people they meet online."

"Dana, this is not some romantic tryst. I showed you the diary. I'm going to join an excavation for the dauphin's burial site."

"Will you two keep it down?" Dana's husband demanded with a growl. He stood in the doorway. A dark beard shadowed his face and his hair was standing on end.

"Sorry!" Charlie responded, lowering his voice.

"I just got the baby to sleep," Jeff told his wife. "I'm going to sleep for a few hours. You can get him if he wakes up again."

"I will," Dana answered absently. "Leave the door open."

"I don't need to," Jeff remarked. "You could hear him through a cement bunker!"

Charlie laughed. "He does have a set of lungs on him. Maybe he'll be a rock singer."

Both mother and father turned to look at him.

"Sorry! They do make a lot of money," Charlie explained.

"Off to the big rendezvous, huh?" Jeff asked with a flash of white teeth against very tan skin.

Charlie shook his head. "You know, since the two of you got together, you've made my life miserable. Mom never thought about me getting married or having kids. Now, she expects it."

"Don't forget Dana setting you up with every unmarried woman from here to the coast," Jeff reminded him.

"The only peace I get is when the two of you are in Wilmington with the baby and Mom is visiting you."

"Get married!" Dana encouraged. "Have children!"

Charlie glanced at Jeff. "Just because your sea captain wanted to be domesticated, doesn't mean I do. I'm happy with my life the way it is."

"A girl in every port and one on the Internet," Dana added.

"Exactly," her brother said, zipping his tote bag closed.

They all heard the baby's cry from the room down the hall.

Jeff yawned. "Don't look at me! I've had him all night. I'll be glad when this teething part is over."

Dana left the room quickly as another cry echoed. "Good luck, Charlie." She hugged her brother quickly. "Be careful. Men can be victims, too, you know."

"I know, Dana. I'll be okay," he told her, kissing her cheek.

When she had gone to see to her son, Jeff lingered in the doorway. Charlie was getting everything together. All of his supplies fit into three bags that were lightweight and easy to carry.

"You know, when I met Dana, I wasn't looking for a relationship either," Jeff told his brother-in-law. "Penny was enough responsibility for me. But sometimes, the wind comes up and it takes your breath away. The storm hits you and you're never the same again."

Charlie grinned, ignoring the sailing analogy. He shook Jeff's hand. "If I get broad sided, you'll be the first to know."

Jeff yawned again. "Good luck, Charlie. See you when you get back."

"How long is the boat in dry dock for repairs?"

"Probably a month. Maybe six weeks. Dana and I are going on an anniversary cruise in April. She should be right by then."

Charlie picked up his bags. "Good luck with the teething. I think you might need it more than me."

Jeff heard the baby screaming as he turned to go back to bed. "I think you might be right."

Charlie knew his mother was out for the day. His father was in Russia on business. His grandfather would be at the office of the Marine Bank of Pittsburgh. Charlie hadn't told him yet that he was taking some time off. And he certainly had no intention of telling him why he was leaving. Charlie already knew what he thought of his other excavations.

James Eller wasn't one for whimsical journeys. When Charlie had gone to Tibet, he'd told him clearly what he thought of the idea. But then anything that didn't deal with the banking business or the family wasn't on his grandfather's agenda. Since Charlie worked for the bank and his grandfather that meant it shouldn't be on his agenda either.

Charlie had become interested in archaeology a few years before when he'd visited Pompeii. He'd worked with a friend of his on a site in the demolished city and realized that he loved the experience. Taking those little bits of history and putting them together to make up a whole picture of a civilization tantalized him. It didn't seem to fit his lifestyle or his personality but he joined digs all over the world whenever he had the time.

On the plane, Charlie took out his notebook computer and typed in his password, dauphin. It brought up a wealth of material that he'd been putting together ever since he'd bought the diary. This was his baby. His chance to really be a part of history from start to finish. He might never be able to take the credit for the find because of his family and their business, but he wanted to be there when the medallion and the ring were brought out. He wanted to be the one to finally prove that the dauphin had been rescued from the Terror in France and had made his home on Dauphin Island. So, he had to be there first.

Before he closed his computer, he sent a message to Dauphin Island.

Chapter Three

The plane set down in Mobile around seven pm. It had been hard to leave Pittsburgh without an explanation once he'd bumped into his grandfather. Charlie didn't let James Eller push him around but his grandfather had a knack for getting in the way. He didn't want to look up and realize that a private detective was looking back at him.

It was hot and humid in Mobile compared to the cold dry winter still in Pittsburgh. The airport was littered with revelers already in costume. Charlie shared a taxi with three of them. It was the only way to get to the ferry that went out to Dauphin Island.

"You need to loosen up, man!" a fellow passenger told him. His face was painted blue and he wore dozens of strands of beads around his neck.

Charlie looked down at his casual tan shirt and khaki pants. He had already shed his jacket.

"This'll help." The young man placed a few of his strands of colored beads around Charlie's neck. "Yeah. That's it."

"Thanks," Charlie said. "Where are you from?"

"St. Louis. Home of the St. Louis Cardinals! Whoa!!!" The trio started whooping and didn't stop until they reached the ferry landing. Then they realized that they didn't want to go out to the island, after all, and left Charlie there to catch the boat.

Music was loud and live all through the streets in Mobile. Hundreds of people were dancing. They spilled out of their houses and bars, champagne glasses in hand. Beads crunched under his feet as Charlie walked to the ferry landing.

The ferry was crowded. The mood was festive and the champagne flowed like water. Charlie had a glass pressed into his hand by an attractive brunette who winked and smiled at him. He might have taken her up on her clear invitation but he was eager to reach the island.

Costumes ranged from ancient Greek to futuristic. Some of the costumed characters were giving away coins and other trinkets as well as coupons from bars and restaurants on the mainland. The sun was setting across the length of the island, burnishing the white sand beaches and turning the frothy Gulf water to gold. People waved to them from boats sailing between the island and Mobile. Women threw kisses and men raised their glasses.

Charlie knew the night would be wild. He'd been in Rio once for Carnivale. It was an experience he didn't need to repeat. It was probably his family's staid, banking blood in his veins but he liked his excitement to be a little more discreet. Maybe he'd been spending too much time at ancient sites, he mused, looking at the water and the trees that edged the white beaches of Dauphin Island. Maybe he'd forgotten how to have a good time. Part of him was already scanning the island coast, wondering where the dauphin, Louis Charles, was buried.

He picked up his briefcase as the ferry bumped the dock on the island. Several bands competed with one another for space and noise at the edge of the pier. Hundreds of people were waiting to welcome the crowd to the island. A swarm of hula dancers waved their arms and swiveled their hips. Torches were lit and stuck in the sand to show the way to the already crowded streets.

Charlie disembarked between two men, dressed as kings, who were showering the crowd with gold coins. He looked at every face that passed him. Then he saw her.

He wasn't sure how he knew it was her but he was certain of it. She was standing on the side of the crowded pier. She was wearing a low cut, red velvet gown that was created in the French court style that Marie Antoinette favored. Her hair was piled high on her head and powdered white. She wore a red velvet mask trimmed with black lace and there were black lace gloves on her hands.

He knew there was a trim figure in that heavy gown with the wide panniers. A sparkling rhinestone necklace drew attention to the smooth pink and white skin that gleamed in the torchlight. The costume covered most of her but the parts that remained intrigued him. It was possible to understand how a man could find a lady's ankle sexy. "Keri?"

Dark eyes blinked at him from behind the eyeholes of her mask. "Armand!"

He glanced around them, falling back into the French accent easily. "The only one not in costume."

She brought something out from behind her back: a black satin mask. Without another word, she moved closer to him and tied the mask around his head so that it fit against his face. "Not anymore. Welcome to Mardi Gras."

Surprised by her warm reception, he bent his head and kissed her sweet red lips. She was soft and supple in his arms. "I have missed you, cherie."

"How long are you staying?"

"Until we find the dauphin."

"You're going with me on the dig?" She was surprised, pleased, and dismayed at the same time. She'd had those romantic dreams about sharing the dig with him but she'd been so set on doing it alone. And what if something happened? If he found out she was epileptic, he might not have as much faith in her.

They walked off the dock together, jostled by the crowd. Keri realized that she had reached the extent of the conversation that she'd envisioned between them. She was glad for the noise and the music. There was so much going on that it was impossible to talk. She didn't know what to say to him. Since she'd received the email from him saying he would meet her there, she'd run the gamut between delirium and uncertainty. She hadn't anticipated that he'd planned on staying.

Charlie took her elbow in his hand, drawing her close. "There must be somewhere that we can talk."

She shrugged but stayed close to him as another wave of revelers swept by them. "I'm not sure."

"Let's look around."

The bars were all full and they were noisier than the streets. There was a small café on a corner that wasn't swamped. They took an outside table on the sidewalk, close to the building.

"I like your costume." He sat down after she was seated. "I would have known you anywhere."

"Because of the French theme?"

He smiled. "Oui. But it was something else. It might be because I've thought so much about seeing you again."

She was pleased that he felt that way. "I've thought of you, too."

Charlie/Armand laughed. "But you were surprised to know that I would stay, eh?"

"A little," she admitted. "I got your email but I thought you were just stopping by."

"And?"

"I just didn't think about both of us going on the dig." Her mind was racing with questions. It was unlikely that he'd had ever gone on a dig before so he wouldn't know that she was inexperienced. That wasn't a problem. She didn't get enough supplies for both of them but they could work that out.

She had simply looked forward to finding the dauphin by herself. And those long nights she had dreamed about spending with him on the expedition were quickly turning to long doubts.

The waiter came up as they were talking and brought them each a glass of free champagne. They ordered cinnamon coffee and croissants. Then Charlie sat back to look at the woman across the table from him. Keri was smart. He'd been surprised that he could fool her for so long. He'd taken Armand's identity to shield his own from any snoopy reporters or friends of the family who might want to report back to his grandfather. He wanted to keep it that way until the dig was over. He didn't want the credit for finding the dauphin. Keri could have that. He just wanted to be there without any interference.

He hadn't planned on getting involved personally with her. What had started out as a way to reach his goal was quickly becoming a noose around his neck. He enjoyed being with her. He liked her laughter and her honesty. She was ambitious and quick witted. She wanted more than that little office in that little museum. He was quickly finding that he wanted more than just the dauphin.

Keri held up her glass. "To the Dauphin."

Charlie joined her, clinking the crystal against hers. "The Dauphin."

They drank their coffee. It was fragrant with cinnamon, sweet and strong. The croissants were freshly baked and flaky. Charlie had three of them.

Keri ate hers slowly and watched him as he talked about eating croissants in Paris. Of course, he assumed that she had been all over the world. After all, she was an experienced archaeologist. They didn't speak of the excavation on the island but she could sense that it was the undercurrent of their conversation.

"How long have you been here?" he questioned as he broke apart another croissant.

"On the island?" she hedged, looking at his long fingers.

He glanced at her quickly. "Why is it that I have the feeling there's something else you're hiding behind that mask, hmm?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what you mean."

"You sound different. I don't know." He shrugged. "I have the feeling there is something you haven't told me."

Keri panicked. Then reassured herself. He was only guessing. She had gone out of her way to seem different when he arrived that night, only to get cold feet at the dock when she saw him again. He was rich. He was handsome. He traveled around the world. She didn't know what to expect from him. She didn't know what to expect from herself. She was nervous about so much. There was so much that could go wrong.

"Well, we haven't seen each other for three months," she reminded him with a shaky smile. "And before then, we barely met before you left."

Charlie thought about Dana's cautions before he left home. Keri might have someone in her background, maybe the room mate, who cautioned her against getting too close to him. Yet she had met him at the dock wearing that sexy dress. He was confused and maybe a little guilty. "That is true. Although we have spoken together almost every night since I left you."

"Yes." She told herself to relax. Taking a deep breath in the tight bodice was difficult but she was going to have to ease up. "I've been here since this morning."

"Checking out the site?" He guessed, sipping at his coffee. "I surprised you, non? Did you think I was coming to check up on you?"

Keri's eyes grew wary behind her mask. "It did cross my mind. You gave me a lot of money. I couldn't blame you."

Charlie patted his mouth with a napkin as he considered her statement. If she was worried about him being there, that could explain her reticence. It might make the excavation more difficult. He had picked her museum because they weren't well known and because they wouldn't know him. After meeting her, he'd realized how well they would work together. There had to be a way to ease her mind.

Her hand lay on the table. He picked it up in his own. "I came to be with you, cherie." It was at least a partial truth. "I would like to be there when you find the dauphin. I promise not to get in the way. I have been on some excavations before in Egypt. I would not hold you back."

Keri swallowed a gulp of her coffee. He'd been on some excavations. He might be able to spot that she was 'green' from the beginning. This was quickly going from bad to worse. "I'm not worried about you getting in the way." What if he sent her home? What if her dreams died and she lost her job? What if she slept with him? What if she fell in love with him? What if he found out that she had epilepsy and couldn't handle it? What if she had a seizure in front of him? Oh God! Don't let me have a seizure in front of him!

Charlie sat back in his chair and studied her. He felt he knew her. He wasn't a fool. He wouldn't have given that line of credit to someone he didn't trust. He hadn't known her long but he knew that she was the right person. In three months, she'd learned and passed on so much information and barely scratched the surface of the funds he'd put at her disposal. Yet he could sense there was a problem.

He studied her a minute longer, then finished his coffee. He'd come that far and already wrestled the time off from work. He wanted to look for the dauphin's grave. He wanted her help. "The night is young." He changed the subject she seemed so unwilling to talk about with him. He smiled into her eyes. "And you are very beautiful. Perhaps we should worry about the dauphin tomorrow, eh?"

Keri felt that questioning gaze, even behind the mask. She felt as though he could see more than she was willing to show him. "I think the parade is starting up." She stood up and held out her hand to him. "Ready?"

He took her gloved hand in his and wondered if she were purposely trying to be intriguing. When he'd met her in Virginia, she'd been different; more reserved, less mysterious. Finding the dauphin's burial site was becoming more interesting by the minute.

***

They joined the crowd that was moving towards the main street where the parade was being set up. A rock band was singing on one corner and a blues trio was on another across from them. Standing between them was like being sandwiched in sound. Charlie tugged on Keri's arm and they moved across the street to watch the passing parade from the shelter of a small bookstore. The store was closed but the wrought iron rail around it restricted traffic.

"Do you like parties?"

"Oh yes!" she lied enthusiastically. "When I'm not working, it's all I do." Keri tried to think of all the things she'd heard Dawn say to men at parties they'd attended together. Dawn had a way with men. They all found her fascinating. That was why she had the sexy lady handle. She wasn't worried that any man would be disappointed when he met her.

"It is interesting that you have such a love for parties but you do not mind camping out for months." He slid his arm around her waist, drawing her close to him.

She laughed, trying to make it sweet and musical. "It makes it that much better when I get out."

"Oui." He looked at her profile. Her mouth and chin were the only parts of her face revealed by the elaborate mask. She had a stubborn chin and kissable lips that were curved into an attractive smile. He felt an almost overpowering impulse to kiss her and touch her.

The float that carried the King and his entourage went by them. She waved to the King. Her enthusiasm caught his eye and he threw her a golden disk. It held an invitation to a party held at one of the hotels that night.

A large man, dressed in yellow velvet, waved his feathered hat before him as he bowed to her. "The King requests your presence."

Keri glanced at her escort. A party girl wouldn't miss that party. "I'll be there," she told him with a smile and a curtsy.

"We will be there, non?" Charlie corrected, taking the golden disk from Keri's fingers. "Merci."

The man left them and the next float was already sailing past. Huge butterfly wings in richly hued tones brushed the streets as the butterfly riders threw out candy and beads to the crowd.

"You impressed the king, petite," Charlie commented, watching her catch beads and candy.

"I just waved," she replied defensively. "I think it was the costume."

His inquisitive eyes on the lines of her costume, he partially agreed. "I do not believe it was just the costume, Keri."

Keri looked at him, wondering if she'd gone too far. She crammed a few chocolate disks into her mouth and waved at the next float, her mind scrambling to recall all of the fascinating things she'd heard Dawn say to men. She refused to consider what he was going to think when she wasn't quite so fascinating the next day. Or he found out that she wasn't really an archaeologist. She felt like she'd had too much champagne. Her brain was scrambled.

The parade was winding down. A Dixieland band was walking through the streets followed by some elegantly dressed ladies in horse drawn carts. The streets sparkled with beads and coins.

"Someone's going to have a mess cleaning this up tomorrow," Keri remarked without thinking.

"It will be around for weeks," he replied, taking her hand. "For now, I think the ball awaits."

They walked through the streets towards the Grand Hotel near the docks. All of the parade seemed to hover around the entrance. Lights blazed from the interior. In the distance, fireworks were bursting against the night sky.

A man on horseback galloped past them, his cape flowing out behind him. The horse shied at the loud crack of fireworks that lit up the sky overhead. Keri moved quickly to the side to avoid being stepped on as the man brought the animal under control. She stumbled over a deep crack in the sidewalk and ended up against a wall. Holding his arm, she took Charlie/Armand with her.

Charlie couldn't imagine being crushed by anyone more interesting. Red velvet entangled his legs. A cloud of French perfume engulfed his senses. Her delectable bodice was crushed against his chest. Her arms flew out, trying to grab at something to keep herself upright. His hands came around her waist to steady her.

"Sorry." She tried to move away but only succeeded in finding herself more firmly against his chest. Her hands rested on his shoulders for balance.

"Non, Keri. I have wanted it to happen since I got here."

He kissed her. She pulled her head back and stared at him. He looked like the pirate he was, stealing a kiss from her. "Armand," she confessed breathlessly. "My head is spinning."

"It is the night and the dress and the magic," he suggested boldly, his hands still on her waist.

Keri knew she would have to kiss him again. It had nothing to do with her heart beating or her head swimming from the sensation, she assured herself. It was just something Dawn would have done. She lowered her head to his and kissed him carefully. His lips were warm and firm beneath hers. He tasted of coffee and cinnamon.

"Mademoiselle," he teased as she moved her head back to look at him again. "I believe you are deliberately provoking me."

Keri's mask had slipped. She pushed it back into place with an impatient finger. "I assure you, sir, I would never provoke anyone, without expecting the proper response."

Charlie kissed her again, glad to oblige her with his response. Kissing her was like sitting on the beach in the warm sunshine or swimming in a bright lagoon. It was warm and fluid and right.

"You weren't hurt, were you?" a voice asked from behind them.

"No." They both denied at once as Keri stepped away from Charlie.

It was the man on the horse. He swept them a wide bow. "I see! Sorry to interrupt. But since I have, be my guests at the king's ball." He took Keri's hand, kissed it, and then led her away towards the hotel. Charlie was left to follow on his own, wishing Keri had given him a sword with the mask.

Keri glanced back at Armand and ran her tongue across her dry lips. It was the night, she told herself. And the sudden urge to be someone different. Someone exciting and colorful. She couldn't recall exactly when she'd dated last but she did remember the man. He was the assistant dean at a nearby college. They had met at a museum party. They'd gone out to eat pizza and gone to see a movie she couldn't recall.

The whole time, she'd fought with him to keep his hands to himself. In the darkness of the movie theater, she'd deliberately spilled popcorn all over the man to keep him off of her. When the evening was over, she'd suffered through a short kiss that came close to her mouth. Then she'd hurried inside to lock the door behind her.

Kissing Armand was different. She didn't know him. He didn't know her. But when his lips touched hers, there was something like fireworks that went off inside her brain. She wanted to kiss him again. And again. She liked the way it felt when he pulled her close. She wanted to be closer.

But she'd escaped with the masked horseman whose cape flowed out beside her. It was probably a good move. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to get involved with a man she might work with for the next few weeks. She knew she wasn't experienced enough to keep up that kind of game without getting burned. It was going to be hard enough to pretend that she had been on countless digs.

Armand looked annoyed. His eyes were even bluer with the black mask on his face. Keri was struck again by his self-confidence as they walked up to the throne where the King held court. He looked as though it was something he did everyday. He stood back while she was introduced to the King. With his casual, familiar clothes and his black mask, he looked out of place amidst the splendor of the ballroom's other inhabitants. But his head was high and his air was one of quiet dignity.

When the horseman called him forward, Charlie made his bow to the King.

"I know you," the King said with a laugh. "I know your grandfather! You--"

"I'm in disguise," Charlie told him bluntly.

"Of course!" The King laughed again with a significant look at Keri. "We'll talk later."

Charlie nodded. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The King stood with his queen. "I have to get this thing going but don't you leave until we've had a chance to talk. I want to show you some plans."

The horseman bowed to Keri. "May I have this dance?"

Keri took his hand and he led her away. Charlie leaned against the makeshift throne and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It wasn't like him to get jealous. They'd only shared a few kisses, after all. He was never so serious about a woman that it bothered him when she was ready to move on, although he admitted that it was usually him that moved on. He liked his life without those ties that his sister seemed to favor. Yet, it bothered him to see Keri, in her beautiful dress, dancing with that damned horseman!

The room was glittering with jewels and costumes sewn with thousands of sequins. The chandelier twirled above their heads and the dancers laughed as they moved across the polished floor. Champagne flowed in the fountain near the door and fleet-footed waiters liberally distributed it. Flowers were everywhere, their scent and color filling the room.

Keri danced and drank with her partners as they kept her moving around the room. She looked for Armand. Once she saw him talking with the King near his throne. Another time, he was dancing with a gorgeous redhead dressed in a creation that looked like sea foam. She lost track of him finally. She'd had too much champagne. Her face felt hot and her brain was swimming. She was looking for a way out of the crowded ballroom when someone took her hand.

"I think we should call it a night, don't you, petite?" Charlie/Armand asked her with a warm smile.

That smile was more potent than any wine she'd had that night. She realized that she'd danced with every other man in the room but not with him. "One last dance."

Charlie looked into her eyes and forgot the room was spinning around them with light and sound and hundreds of people. "Certainement." He took her hand in his and put his arm around her waist. He pressed her close to him. She swayed like a willow until they were mated from chest to thigh.

Keri leaned her head against him and closed her eyes. Music was playing but she couldn't have said what song it was or who was playing it. The whole dance took on the quality of a dream. She twined her fingers in the thick hair on the back of his neck and sighed.

Charlie bent his head slightly to lay it against hers. He took in the fresh scent of her hair and the silk of the strands that lingered against his cheek. They moved as though they were one, effortless and fluid. His chest cushioned her breasts. Their softness was creating a warmth and hardness in his own body that didn't surprise him. He'd wanted her since he'd met her. He had hoped for something more than dinner that night in his hotel room in Virginia. But he had backed away when he saw how nervous and uncomfortable she was with him. Life had taught him that patience was a virtue and that most things came with time.

"Armand," she whispered, feathering kisses along his jaw. "I love your name."

He sighed, wishing he'd thought about the possibility that he might want something more with this woman than sharing a tent for a few weeks. It never occurred to him to think about this dig as romantic. He'd been on too many excavations to have that kind of notion. The work was hard and the hours were long and possessed by madness. There was a frenzy to finding old things that consumed archaeologists. That was the only passion he'd expected.

"Keri." He wished he could hear his real name on her lips. "You are so beautiful."

She moved her head and looked up at him. "Armand, kiss me."

He didn't need a second prompting. His mouth grazed hers then settled lightly until he was drawn in deeper. Her lips parted beneath his gentle persuasion. Their bodies moved, not to the music, but to a timeless rhythm that beat inside of them. The lights and the music and the scent of the flowers whirled together, weaving a tapestry. Awareness sizzled through them and drew them closer yet.

"Excuse me." One of the King's guards approached them and tapped Charlie/Armand on the shoulder. "The King wishes a final word with you."

Barely parting, their eyes still clinging to each other, they walked together to the makeshift throne. The King was whispering something to his magnificent queen who nodded her head to them as they answered the summons.

"We have noticed your preoccupation with each other," the King told them with a wry smile. "It would please us for you to join us for the breakfast feast."

Charlie glanced at the windows and realized that dawn was fast approaching the island. He glanced at Keri and was sure he saw the same answer in her eyes. "We thank you, Your Majesty, but we are about to retire."

The King acquiesced. "Another time, perhaps."

Charlie bowed slightly to fit the occasion and Keri curtsied. "Another time."

Keri laughed with the sheer joy of being slightly drunk on champagne and sparkling emotions as Armand ran from the hotel, pulling her after him. Breathless, they kissed outside in the crowded street. "It's morning."

"Not quite, petite," he promised her. "The sun is not up yet. There is still magic in the air."

His hands went slowly around her throat, stroking and coaxing while his lips covered hers. Keri relaxed into him and forgot about how long she'd known him and the expedition and Mr. Grainger, and her place in history. There was only one place she wanted to be at that moment. She had never wanted anything like she wanted to be there. She had thought about it, fantasized through it, and craved it since she'd left him at his hotel three months ago.

"Armand." Her hand still lingered in his. "I don't want the night to be over yet."

"Nor do I, Cherie," he answered quietly, loving the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand. "Come with me? Trust me?"

She nodded, lost in his eyes. "Yes."

They walked slowly to his hotel room that was down the hall from hers. She'd found it for him when she'd heard he was coming to the island. It was bigger than hers but hers had a better view of the beach. They kissed as they walked, not talking but letting their emotions and their hands and their mouths say what they didn't want to say. The streets sparkled with beads. The sun was a burst of fiery mango and papaya across a sweet cream sea as the night gave way to day for the exhausted island.

Keri didn't notice. The hotel room door closed behind them. The room was dark. The curtains were drawn against the intrusion of light and sound from the street. Armand gently removed her mask and she drew the elaborate wig from her head, shaking out her own dark hair. She reached to untie his mask but he stayed her hand.

"The romance is sometimes in not knowing everything." He kissed her, his hands stroking across the warm display of flesh above her bodice.

Keri was beyond excited. Her breathing came in fitful spurts. His blue eyes behind the black mask were intoxicating. His kisses were breathtaking. When her gown fell from her body, she was quivering. He helped her step out of the panniers, then held her hands apart to look at her. Embarrassed by his intent regard, she squirmed to the side but he stopped her by sliding his hand down her thigh.

"Do not seek to hide from me, cherie." His voice was thick with emotion. "I claim all of you." He put her hands on his chest. "As I give all of me to you."

Her hands trembled so badly that she didn't know if she could undo the buttons on his shirt. She heard one rip but he laughed and she hurried to finish the pleasant chore. When he was as naked as she, he bent and lifted her, taking her to his bed and putting her on the pale green coverlet.

He put his hand up to take off the mask but she stopped him. "Allow me, monsieur."

Sliding slowly up across his chest, she rested the tips of her breasts against his bare chest and was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath. He was already hard and hot against her thigh. With delicate care, she removed his mask, tangling her body with his as she did so, kissing his neck and ear then moving to his mouth.

"Mon coeur," he said in an impatient, seductive whisper. "You are mine!"

Chapter Four

Keri woke up slowly, feeling warm and lazy. Armand's dark head was on the pillow beside hers. She looked at him sleeping, his eyelids closed over his gorgeous blue eyes. His lips were smiling just a little and there was the sweetest hint of a dimple about his chin. She was obsessing, she knew, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. It had been the most glorious night of her life. Nothing could be better. Not finding a lost city of gold or uncovering Atlantis itself.

Not wanting to wake him, afraid her make up had smeared during the night and that she might look like a raccoon at that point, she slipped from the bed. She didn't even want to think what her hair looked like after it had spent hours under a heavy wig. She went into the bathroom and showered, wiping the steam from the mirror to look at herself.

She was rather plain, actually, she decided as she assessed her appearance in the mirror. Shoulder length, dark hair, and dark eyes. A few freckles on her nose from some ancestor with fairer skin. She had good teeth and an obstinate chin. She tended to frown too much and she squinted when she forgot to wear her glasses.

She sighed. Nothing that went with the sexy lady handle that she had been using on the Internet. Of course, that was Dawn's name. Hers was Digger. If Charlie Eller, merchant, was a normal, average man, he would be looking for a sexy lady. Not a Digger. When she went to meet him at the bar that night, he might be surprised.

Yet, last night, Armand had made her feel sexy. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful and desirable. Men had always thought she was smart. Some had thought she was fun to be with. A few drunken ones, like Stephenson, had flirted with her. She had kissed and been kissed. She had lost her virginity to an awkward boy in her first year of college who told her that she was cute.

But last night! Ah, last night, she was Marilyn Monroe and Madonna! She was every dream and fantasy she had ever imagined. In his arms, she wasn't awkward or nervous. She didn't think about her epilepsy. She was powerful and seductive. She was a goddess and Armand worshiped her.

Keri expected to see some of that on her face but it only showed in the glow of her eyes. She had never been loved as Armand had loved her. It was terrifying! It was awesome!

Coming out of the bathroom in a towel, she looked at the heap of her dress on the floor. She didn't want to put it back on and hoped that Armand wouldn't mind if she borrowed a shirt. Moving quietly, she looked through his possessions, stopping to smell his cologne and smile at his underwear. She opened a case and found his laptop. Beside it was an old wooden box almost the same shape as Brier Florent's diary that he had given her.

She paused and looked at it curiously. On impulse, she opened it and found another diary. She mouthed the words to herself as she read in French. It was the diary of a ship's captain. In the box with it was a receipt. Charlie Eller, it read. Twenty thousand francs. It was from a shop in Paris. Keri frowned. Had Armand seen the diary, too, and purchased it? With a nagging sense of foreboding, she found his wallet and opened it. She glanced at him as he slept on the bed. Credit cards, driver's license, ID card from the Marine Bank of Pittsburgh. Charles Eller, vice president in charge of accounts. There was a picture of him with a woman and a baby. Another picture of an older man and woman. Even to her love hazed, hung over, reluctant brain, the picture was becoming clear.

Charlie had been dreaming about the night. Keri was beside him, warm and sleepy. She had whispered something in his ear as she was falling asleep. He could feel her soft breath on his cheek.

"You skunk!" she screamed, hitting him with whatever she could put in her hands.

The vase breaking above his head on the wall and dousing him with water was the sure fire cure to being asleep at a dangerous moment in his life. He sat up and looked at Keri, wondering if there had been a hurricane or an earthquake.

"You low, life, dirty, underhanded--" She threw the telephone book at him and followed it with the telephone for good measure.

"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you?" he demanded. She threw his laptop at him. He ducked and it missed his head.

"Where's the accent, huh, Armand?" She threw the briefcase next. "Oh, wait. Maybe Armand is French for Charlie. Is that it?" She heaved another case at him. The suitcase broke open and showered him with clothes.

Even to his sleep deprived, lust filled, hung over brain, he knew she'd learned the truth. The lust part made it difficult because she was still naked, throwing things at him. Her eyes were sparkling with rage and her breasts were-

"I hate you!" she screamed, throwing a water glass at him.

He moved in time that the glass missed him. He was thinking about all the things he could say to her when she caught him off-guard with a dog-eared copy of the Bible on the right side of his head. After that it was pretty much a jumble of words and more flying debris. He defended himself as much as he could but when she ran out of things to throw, she picked up her dress and slammed the door after her as she left the room. Charlie was left sitting in bed, covered with clothes, flowers, and books.

Keri ran out of the room, clutching the dress to her in one hand and the powdered wig in the other. She found her room key in the pocket of the dress where she'd put it. She let herself into her room, furiously pretending not to notice the stares she got at her naked behind. She kicked the door shut behind her and threw the dress back down on the floor.

She was such a fool! She'd fallen for the whole thing, whatever it was that he had set up for her. She didn't care what it was or why he'd played the game with her. It was all she could do not to screech when she thought about sleeping with him! How could she have been such a moron?

Furious but not sure how or why this had happened to her, she did the only rational thing left to her: she cried and slammed her fists into her pillows. The bed covers were soaked. She pretended not to hear Armand, Charlie Eller, calling her name and pounding on her door. She pulled the blankets over her head and stuffed the pillows against her ears. Eventually, he went away. Exhausted and emotionally depleted, she fell asleep.

When she woke up again, it was afternoon. She wasn't even sure if she remembered it all correctly or if she'd dreamed the whole thing. She staggered from the bed and glanced at the red velvet dress on the floor. It was dirty and stained. She hoped she could get her deposit back on it. Surely she wasn't the only one who couldn't party neatly.

Quickly, she picked up the dress, and his case, the one that had held the second diary, fell on the floor at her feet. Somehow, in her anger and embarrassment, she had picked up his case with her dress. The dress was bulky, she allowed herself. She was upset. She put the briefcase on a chair by her shoes and looked at it.

She refused to allow herself to think about anything else until she managed to stand upright in the shower for a few minutes. The hard pulse of warm water made her slightly more awake but her head hurt. When she braved the mirror, she was sorry. She looked like something that was left in the microwave too long.

Dressing in green shorts and a purple tank top, she yawned and reached for the phone to call for room service. She didn't trust herself out of her room until she'd had some coffee. She needed some food and her medicine. Her hand contacted the briefcase and it fell to the floor at her feet.

"Room service!" a voice greeted her cheerfully on the other end of the line. "What can I get for you?"

Keri stared at the briefcase. What had she done? What would she say to him? It wasn't bad enough that they had been intimate. She'd stolen his briefcase. She couldn't even pretend that she'd thought it was hers.

"What can I get for you?"

Keri glanced around the room. Her heart congealed into cold mush. Then the raw, rampant anger that had gotten her back to her room without putting on her dress first returned.

So she had his briefcase. So he might think she took it on purpose. So what? He'd done something much worse to her. He had lied to her and cheated her and made her feel sexy when it was all a game to him. Why? Why had he done it? Had Stephenson put him up to it? Was it a hoax? Were they all back at the museum laughing at her for being so gullible? Not only is she epileptic, she's stupid, too!

"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Uh-coffee, please. Some fruit and a croissant. Room 204. Thanks." She put the receiver back on the cradle and started walking carefully around the room in concentric circles. The briefcase sat on the floor, mocking her. She picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was a plain, black briefcase except for the initials CRE inscribed on the top near the handle.

She put down the briefcase and went to answer the knock on the door. She peered out of the hole in the door but saw no sign of Charlie Eller. It was her coffee and food. She embraced it, and the waiter, with a smile. She gave the man a tip and closed the door. She poured a cup of coffee, thrilling at the scent of it, then finally found her medicine and ate her croissant and fruit. Then she sat down and stared at the briefcase again.

Of course, there were two ways of looking at this event, she decided, as she sipped her coffee. First, she had to know if it was a hoax. Second, she had to know why it happened. If it wasn't a hoax, there was the idea of finding Charlie and returning the briefcase to him, then proceeding from there with their initial plan to go out to the site together. She could say she didn't care about what had happened to them personally. All that mattered to her was the dig. That might be the professional attitude to adopt. Would Carter have let someone else open the tomb because his feelings were hurt and he felt stupid? Probably not.

No matter what, she couldn't keep the second diary. It belonged to that disgusting wretch of a human being who'd given her so much pleasure last night. Groaning, she poured another cup of coffee and took two aspirin. It was too much thinking for her poor head that morning. Her eyes felt as though they were going to burst from their sockets. She closed them for just a minute and the phone rang, startling her.

"Keri?"

It was Armand. Charlie. She tried to gather her scattered wits. "Good morning, Armand. Or should I call you Charlie now? Or maybe skunk? Or snake?"

"I can explain. Give me a chance. It's not the way it seems."

"Just tell me one thing," she persisted, her heart aching. "Is it for real? Are the diaries real? Or is that part of the game?"

"You did the research," he reminded her. "What do you think?"

She closed her eyes. "I don't want to think about it."

"Keri--"

"I'll talk to you later," she promised. "Goodbye, Snake."

She stared at the briefcase again. He hadn't said anything about it or the diary. Maybe he didn't know that she had it yet. Maybe he didn't care. "Damn!" How had this become such a mess?

It was because she'd gotten personal with the man. Men. Man. She didn't even realize that she'd already met Charlie Eller until she saw his name. She'd gotten personal with Armand St. Jacques. She didn't know why Charlie Eller had pretended to be Armand but she couldn't fault herself. And she had to remember that it was getting personally involved that had led to this moment. The diary was real. She wasn't going to throw away the opportunity of a lifetime because she'd made a stupid mistake.

The aspirin was starting to kick in after she'd finished the coffee. She didn't dare go out yet so she opened up the briefcase again. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she rifled through the things inside. There was some paper, a few envelopes, and some pens. She glanced at a paperback novel that was dog eared and marked with a business card from a bank in Paris. It was a mystery. She recognized the cover but it was written in French. It was battered and torn in a few places. Obviously, well traveled. She spoke some French but read only the old language. She recognized the author.

It made her feel like she knew something personal about Charlie. He liked to read murder mysteries. She realized that she knew a great deal more about him. Keri found herself touching her lips and staring off through the sliding glass doors that faced the white sand beach. She shook her head and brought her mind back to the present.

She picked up the box again. It was an old wooden box wrapped in cotton to protect it. Carefully, she unwrapped the white cotton and opened the hinged lid. Inside was the diary. It had once been covered in red silk. The silk had faded but the gold braid and binding was still glittery. Someone had handled the book lovingly down through the years. It would fetch a good price at an auction house.

She opened the front cover with a gentle touch. Some of the pages were missing but the diary looked authentic. Keri felt sure Armand, Charlie, would have had it tested. What was his angle? Like her, he must have realized that they needed both diaries. Like her, he was interested in finding the dauphin's grave. Unlike her, he had lied and misrepresented himself to get what he wanted from her.

Well, almost. Honesty and a clearer head made her realize that she had done much the same thing. She hadn't lied about her name but she did tell him that she was in charge of excavations for the museum. He did think his dig was sanctioned by the museum. He didn't know that she was Mr. Grainger's assistant with no more authority to start this project than she had to send up the space shuttle.

She tried to feel that it was different somehow but outside of her hurt feelings because she'd slept with a man who'd given her the wrong name, she knew it was pretty much the same. He could look at it with an even more jaundiced view. She had lied to get money from him. She wasn't sure but she thought people went to jail for that offense. Added to that, she had taken his briefcase. What must he be thinking of her at that moment?

She put the book in the box again, then wrapped the box in the white cotton and placed it back into the briefcase. Then she closed the case. Of course, he didn't know the truth about her. She had that in her favor. He probably knew she had the briefcase by now but there was no reason he should think anything about it. He trusted her. The situation made her want to grind her teeth and wail. It was all wrong.

Finally finished bemoaning her fate, Keri made her decision. She dusted imaginary lint from her hands and picked up the briefcase.

"Here goes," she said aloud to the room in general. She was going to beard the dragon in his den. Or the lion. She couldn't recall which it was in that phrase. She walked down the hall to Armand, Charlie's room, and knocked briskly on the door. She wasn't going to give up her shot at a new life because she'd slept with a man whose name was Charlie instead of Armand.

He didn't answer. Keri knocked again with more authority. Still, no answer. She called his name. He didn't reply. She glared at the door. She walked back to her room and called him. He didn't answer the phone. She called down to the main desk. The woman there was pleasant and efficient.

"Mr. Eller has left word that he is at the Hotel Desmond."

"The Hotel Desmond?"

"Yes," the woman advised. "Do you want the phone number there?"

"No, thanks." Keri remembered seeing the Hotel Desmond as she walked through the street. It looked expensive. She sighed. There was no other way. She needed to convince him that it had been a mistake taking his briefcase and rummaging through it! And being in his bed, she added mentally. That had definitely been a mistake. Jamming a straw hat on her head and setting sunglasses on her nose, she picked up the briefcase and her wrinkled costume and started out for the Hotel Desmond.

Keri sat in the Hotel Desmond foyer for a half an hour before they located Charlie. It puzzled her that he wasn't using the alias with everyone. It made her feel worse. He had only lied to her. She thought about leaving the briefcase for him but she wanted to have a chance to talk to him about everything...before he could judge her on appearances. Or find someone else less cranky to look for the dauphin with him. She had thrown things at him and hit him with a few of them. But she was a victim of circumstance.

As she was with her costume. The shop kept her deposit. The proprietor wasn't happy with what had happened to the dress. Keri knew she would have to adjust her money for that week. Her personal budget would have to cover the cost. She was scrupulous with the money from the fund that was set up for the dig. She could point that out to Charlie. She'd done everything she'd promised to do.

She wasn't sure what she was going to say if Charlie was intent on finding someone else. She didn't plan on begging but she did have some things still on her side. Her head still hurt and her hands were cold. Everything had been going so well. She shouldn't have rented that dress. It had been her downfall. The 'new' Keri was gone for good. The 'old' Keri was firmly on her feet and scrambling to try to make everything right.

"We've located Mr. Eller," the desk clerk informed her finally. "He's out by the pool."

She thanked him then walked through the foyer. Well, at least he wasn't worried about what was going to happen! He'd been outside sunning and swimming while she'd bitten her nails to the quick! Of course, she reminded herself, he wasn't the one who took her briefcase! But he was the one who'd slept with her knowing that he was lying about who he was!

Pulling her sunglasses down to cover the intense sunlight, she stepped out of the hotel. Tanned, slender people were lying out on chaise lounges with tall, cold drinks at their elbows. White-coated waiters scurried to do their bidding. The pool water was bright blue with sunshine dappling through it. Even though the water looked inviting, only a few people were in the pool.

She still had the advantage. Keri looked around the pool area. Even if he didn't care that she was upset about him lying, he still thought she was in charge of excavations with the museum. If he cared at all about the dig, that should count for something. She might even be able to make him feel guilty about what he'd done, hopefully, without feeling guilty about her own lie. Small comfort, she grimaced, when she had been sexy and alluring last night. Now, she was simply annoyed and frantic.

Keri finally spotted him. He was sitting up on a chaise. His black swimming trunks were practically non-existent. He was tan and lean and lightly muscled. And a slender, beautiful blond woman was slathering sun block on his back. She swallowed hard and reminded herself that part of her was still the 'new' Keri. The good part. The part that could face up to her challenges and not make a fool of herself. Holding the briefcase like a shield, she approached the pair.

"Good morning! Nice day, huh?"

Charlie looked up at her. "Hi there! How are you feeling?"

"Fine, Fine. Now." She held up the briefcase, a smile firmly fixed on her face. "I got back and didn't even realize that I had picked this up."

Charlie studied her as she spoke. She seemed different. Maybe it was the sunlight. Maybe it was the awful green shorts and purple shirt. She sounded nervous. It was part of his profession to notice things like that about people. Sometimes it made the difference between closing the deal, or the bank losing millions. He had to be a keen judge of character, often, in difficult situations.

Looking at Keri, he guessed that she'd taken the briefcase, maybe thought about keeping the diary. He knew she was upset with him and honestly felt like she had a right to be upset. He hadn't planned on explaining but he hadn't planned on her finding out the truth. Last night wasn't supposed to happen between them. He sighed. He hoped it was a mistake he could rectify.

She looked a little scared. Maybe a little shy. Definitely attractive in a cute, sexy sort of way. "I'm glad you found me. We should talk."

The blond finished putting sun block on his back. "That's it, Charlie."

"Thanks, Regina," he said with a smile. "I'll see you later."

Keri handed him his briefcase as he stood. "Right. We can get started." Back to business. Forget last night. Forget everything but the dig. That was what mattered.

She felt self-conscious walking through the hotel with him. Everyone was looking at them, especially the women. He hadn't even bothered to put on a robe. It seemed to her that there were miles of his tanned body walking beside her. She dared a glance at his minuscule swimming trunks then looked up, flustered, to find him smiling at her. He didn't seem to be in any hurry. He strolled past the concierge desk with a smile for the pretty woman in the blue blazer.

"Hello, Armand!"

"Hello, Caroline. Thanks for your help this morning."

Keri rolled her eyes and followed him into the elevator. He switched accents as easily as she switched television channels. Was he crazy? Or did he think he was two different people? Wait! That would make him--

"I took a room here. I thought it might be better. Let me change clothes and we'll go out for lunch."

Or at least she assumed the American accent was his normal voice. How would she know? "Do you want me to put the two diaries together?" She was beginning to wonder if she had dreamed that she had been in his bed last night. He was so busy looking at every other woman on the island, he hadn't even noticed her!

"You know," he said, looking closely at her even as she had that thought, "you look so different from last night. It's hard to imagine that you're the same person."

She was about to reply when he reached out his hands and carefully removed her sunglasses. He tucked them neatly into the pocket on her shirt. "There! That's it! I'd know those eyes anywhere."

She shrugged, waiting for her heart to resume its normal beat. "Brown eyes. Only three quarters of the world has them."

He tilted her chin with one hand and stared down into her eyes. "Not like these."

Keri tried to swallow. She tried to look poised and experienced. The best she could do was be angry. "All right." She abruptly pulled herself away from him. "Let's get something straight between us. I'm not one of those women."

"Those women?" He took a step towards her again.

She took another step back. "You know what I mean! I'm not going to rub sun block on your back and I'm not going to steam your pants or whatever Caroline did for you! We're here to work. That's it! We're not having a relationship. We're partners. Not lovers."

Charlie took another step towards her. "What about last night?"

Keri frowned and took another step back. Unfortunately, she had backed herself up against the elevator wall. It was cool and smooth against her sun heated skin. "Last night?"

"You didn't seem so eager to be partners then." He stepped closer and took her hand in his, tracing intricate patterns on her warm flesh with his finger. "In fact, you seemed more inclined to be lovers." He held her eyes with his while he brought her hand to his mouth. His lips touched the palm of her hand, lingering there.

Keri felt his touch down to her practical hiking boots. It made her toes curl up at the ends and her brain feel like oatmeal. In frustration, she snatched her hand back from him. "Last night was different. Last night, we weren't ourselves. Today we are. We're going to have to work together on this. We can't let anything cause problems between us. We have to be professional."

Charlie sighed, looking at her annoyed face. "Let me explain, Keri."

"That's how it has to be," she continued firmly, though her knees felt like jelly. "I know what happened last night. But that's over. We both want to find the dauphin. I'm sure you had a good reason not to tell me your real name."

"All right," he agreed. "Let's see some credentials."

"What?"

"Credentials," he repeated as though she were a child. "You know, those papers that say who you are and who you work for? Because right now, it looks to me like you took my money under false pretenses, telling me you were in charge of excavations for the museum when you're really the assistant curator. The museum doesn't know anything about the dig, do they? You took my briefcase and rifled through it for the diary. You slept with me to make sure I'd continue to fund the dig."

Keri lost her breath at his statement. Not that she'd taken the briefcase, at least not on purpose. She'd been confused. Looking at him, though, she realized that it might be difficult to explain the difference. And not that she took his money on totally false pretenses because she was there to find the dauphin. "How did you find out?"

Blue eyes went straight to her heart and found their mark. "Did you think I wouldn't check you out before I gave you access to a six figure account?"

"Six figure?" And she had flown coach to the island and quibbled with the man over a used tent!

"So now you're angry because you didn't check me out that thoroughly. You were blinded by the money and your ambition." The elevator door parted and he waited while she stepped out into the long hall. He followed behind her and took out a plastic card to open his door.

She looked away. She didn't want to know where he'd been storing it.

"I'll only be a minute," he told her. "Have a seat. There's some juice at the wet bar if you're thirsty."

"No, thanks," she replied, sinking into a comfortable chair by the door.

The suite was large and elegant. It overlooked the beach and had a wide view of the water. The blue and green tones were muted but effective. She felt like she was in an aquarium and a shark was about to eat her! Charlie smiled and disappeared into the bedroom.

"I-uh-don't really remember much about last night," she admitted to him.

"Really?" he called back. "That's too bad. It was...memorable."

Keri's hands were shaking. It was as if her life was dissolving before her eyes and she was helpless to stop it. Her mind raced with dozens of ideas on what she could do to get herself out of this mess. None of them sounded viable. What could she say? 'I'm a fake but give me a chance?' It was a legitimate dig, she assured herself. She had the permits to prove it. It just wasn't a sanctioned dig.

Would he understand that? She stood in front of the sliding glass door. He was a banker. He obviously had some money. He'd been to Egypt and worked on excavations. He'd set her up with a huge account and given her the first diary. No, she assured herself. He wouldn't understand.

This was her dream. Her only chance to get away from the assistant curator's job and into the field she loved. She knew she could do the job. She'd been doing everything but the digging for years. But to a man like Charlie Eller, the dreams of a strange woman in a dead end job probably wouldn't be that impressive. If she had ever had serious sex with a man before, she might have some idea how to use that to her benefit. As it was, she was left with just one recourse.

She glanced towards the door he'd vanished behind. She could hear the shower running. She opened up her purse and fished around for a piece of paper.

Dear Charlie,

This isn't going to work out for us. Sorry to waste your time. Keri

Chapter Five

She left the note on the table near the wet bar and closed the door behind her as she left the room. The 'old' Keri made her way out of the hotel and into the sunlit street. She wandered the island for hours. She packaged the diary and the map along with an account of the money she'd spent and sent it to Charlie's hotel. She still had one more day left on her room so she decided to revisit the sites she'd marked as possible targets for the dig. But it was like putting together a puzzle with three pieces missing. The picture wouldn't be complete without the second diary.

Not that it mattered anyway. She squinted up into the warm sun. It was over. Her dream was gone.

Keri had already spent three grueling months on the project. She'd tracked down every lead that she could glean from the diary. She'd looked through every piece of historical evidence that she could find in Mobile's online archive. She'd eaten and slept that project. It was all she did outside of her normal job at the museum. There had been an Armand St. Jacques who had been born sixty two years ago on Dauphin Island. The records showed his parents names. She traced them back to his grandparents but there had been a fire at the hall of records and the lineage ended there. She'd thought that it might have been Armand/Charlie's father or grandfather.

She spent hours going over records in Mobile, looking for home ownership and documentation of land deeds. There was very little earlier than the late 1800's, no doubt because of the Civil War. The map was no help in locating the gravesite. She needed to know the name of the captain and the ship that had brought the dauphin to the island. She needed to know the name of the head conspirator who had risked his life to save the life of his future king. Brier Florent had been clever in hiding her husband's last resting site.

She looked up and found herself at the bottom stair of an old church. She looked at the plaque that was laid into the stone at the ground level of the foundation. It was probably involved with the dauphin's burial, even though there were no records to that fact. The original church had been built before the dauphin arrived on the island. There had been fires and floods and hurricanes but the church had been rebuilt each time.

There were no hard records to prove that the dauphin had ever set foot on the island. Only the flowery handwriting of a woman who claimed that the man she loved was the heir to the Bourbon throne. The diary said that Louis Charles was buried in a secret place to preserve his body from being stolen by either Royalists or Revolutionaries. And the graveyard had been washed away too many times for people to count.

Without both diaries, it was hopeless. Even with both diaries, it was chancy. People had dug around for burial sites and artifacts for generations with no luck. She had been headstrong and arrogant to believe she could march out here to the island and prove something other people had claimed as a myth for two centuries.

Keri sighed as she sat on a beach and watched the sun go down. She hadn't spent a lot of Charlie's money. She would just have to pay him back. It wouldn't help the loss of her dream but it would help salve her conscience. And hopefully keep him from having her arrested or telling Mr. Grainger. Maybe he'd been right about her. Maybe she was just an epileptic with too many dreams.

She wandered back to her hotel. It was starting to get dark. In the distance, there was the sound of music. She could smell the aroma of grilled food. She sniffed and her stomach roared back at her. She realized that she had been gone all day and hadn't eaten since that morning. Her skin felt dry and hot. She'd also run out without her sun block. Thinking about it made her think about Charlie with Regina that morning. He'd said that he would see her later. She was probably helping him forget that he'd ever met her.

Keri didn't want to think about Charlie. She was exhausted and ravenous and sunburned. She just wanted to eat, take a shower, and fall into bed. She supposed she would have to make reservations on a bus to get back to Richmond tomorrow. But tonight, she was just too tired and heartsick to think about it.

Dragging her feet and her weary, damaged body into the hotel, she passed through the lobby. She didn't look up and didn't check for messages with the front desk. She was on autopilot for her room. A hand suddenly snaked out of nowhere and grabbed her arm. She was stunned to look into Charlie's tanned face, then down at his hand on her arm.

"Let's talk," he said in a voice of quiet authority.

"Why?" she asked, amazed to see him standing there.

"I think we have some things to say to each other. Your room or the bar?"

"Would you mind very much if we went to the restaurant? I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Dinner it is," he replied, steering towards the restaurant.

They were seated at a small table in a dark corner. The restaurant was cool and smelled wonderful. Charlie ordered his meal and a bottle of wine. Keri ordered her meal and an extra pitcher of water.

"You look like a lobster," he said when they were alone.

She downed her glass of water without stopping. "Thanks. I didn't stop for sun block before I left."

"You've been out on the island all day?" he guessed, sipping at his own glass of water.

She nodded. "I was looking around at the places I'd found on the map. I just wanted to see them before I left."

"Honesty," he quipped. "How refreshing!"

Keri glared at him, then glanced around for the waiter. "I think I must be dehydrated. I'm still thirsty." She focused in on Charlie's glass.

"Please, take mine," he suggested gallantly. "No food. No water. No sun block. Not very bright for an experienced archaeologist."

She drank his glass of water quickly, then looked at him across the table. "I'm not an experienced archaeologist."

"Really?" he queried. "I would've never guessed."

Keri stared at the tabletop for a few minutes, following the pattern in the pale wood with her eyes. She felt bad enough without his barrage of questions. It was bad enough that she had to see him again. He looked cool and clean. He was neatly dressed in black cotton pants and a blue shirt. She was hot and dirty and looked like a lobster. Her shorts and shirt were covered with sand.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she rallied. "Didn't I make my position clear?"

The waiter arrived with their meals and drinks. He opened the bottle of wine and poured a glass for each of them.

Charlie sat back in his chair and looked at her while the waiter laid out their meals. What was he doing? It was simple. She had fooled his radar. He considered himself to be an excellent judge of character. He could always predict what someone was going to do. Keri had already thrown him off. Twice.

Waking up that morning with her barrage of clothes and vases and words had been a surprise. He should've thought about her finding that diary and his wallet. He should've thought about how complicated it would make things between them, on a very personal level. He should've thought about a lot of things but from the time she'd met him at the dock, he'd been entranced by her. He'd gone through the past three months thinking about her. Wanting her.

Even in the morning, covered in pieces of broken vase and water, he was still thinking about how soft her lips had been and how right she'd felt in his arms. He had never had such an immediate connection with a woman.

When he had come out of the shower and found her gone, again, he was amazed. To have misjudged the woman once was humiliating enough. To have done it twice, made him wonder if he was losing his touch. He had to understand what it was about her that had made him mistake her twice in less than twenty-four hours. Otherwise, he might be selling used cars in Pittsburgh for a living instead of handling multi-million dollar accounts. "I'm curious. I didn't think you were a quitter."

She was drinking water when he uttered the pronouncement. She swallowed the wrong way and ended up coughing and sputtering. Charlie reached across to pat her back and she jumped and yelped at the contact.

"Sorry," he said, sitting back down. "You must really be burned."

"You never thought of me as a quitter?" she asked in amazement. "Just a liar and a cheat and a fraud?"

He shook his head. "I checked you out, Keri. I knew you weren't who you claimed to be." He leaned closer to the table. "But you notice the money got deposited anyway."

"Why?" She was literally burning to know.

"Because I needed someone who could set this up. I wanted to explain all of it to you this morning but we got off on the wrong foot."

She stared at him. "Why did you--?"

"Make love to you?" He filled in without a second thought for her sensitive heart. "One has nothing to do with the other, besides the circumstances of our meeting."

Keri sipped at her wine again, playing for time. Her heart was racing and her breath was shallow. She looked at the grilled vegetables on her plate and found that she'd lost her appetite.

He looked at her over the top of his wine glass. "Why did you make love to me?"

She looked up from her plate into his eyes. Her dark hair swung in an arc across her face. "I was drinking and the party and the dancing and--"

He put down his wine glass. "You wanted me in Richmond. You were scared."

"I didn't know you. I still don't know you," she said quickly, looking up at him. "Even worse, what I thought I did know about you was wrong!"

Charlie frowned. "Let's start at the beginning." He put out his hand. "I'm Charlie Eller."

Keri stared at him. "What difference does it make? It's over!"

Charlie smiled. "Are you always so dramatic?"

"Are you always so annoying?"

His direct gaze pinned her. "I'm willing to share. Why aren't you?"

"I'm not hungry anymore." She set down her fork and stared at him.

"No wonder. You look like someone roasted you on a spit all day." He signaled the waiter and asked for a few things to be sent to her room. She supplied the room number. Then he picked up the bottle of wine and got to his feet. "All right. Let's go."

"Go where?" she demanded, feeling more uneasy.

"To your room so you can take care of that sunburn."

"You're not coming to my room with me," she said very clearly. "Our partnership is over."

"I'm not leaving until I've had a chance to explain. We'll go to your room and take care of that sunburn. Then we'll talk. I know you have to want to make this work as much as I do, Keri."

It made sense, she supposed, but she still felt silly and a part of her simply wanted to walk away. It wasn't possible to make it work out between them. "No. Not now."

He leaned closer to her. She could see her own reflection in his eyes. "I'm going wherever you're going right now, Keri. Until this thing is settled between us."

Keri thought about screaming. She thought about telling the hotel manager that he was bothering her. But she supposed that she did owe Charlie an explanation. He had come all the way out there to participate in a dig. She had led him to believe that she was legitimate. She could see that her adventure was going to cost her dearly. And she had yet to dig a shovel full of earth. "All right. All right."

"After you," he said, waving her in front of him. "Ladies and conspirators first."

Keri self-consciously opened the door to her room. She'd ignored Charlie in the elevator. It hadn't been easy. He was a difficult man to ignore. There was that presence he had about him that she'd noticed at the party. It made her very aware of him. There were goose bumps on her arms.

Room service arrived on their heels with a bowl full of green mush. Charlie thanked the man and tipped him generously then took the bowl and closed the door behind him.

"What is that stuff?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"The best thing in the world for sunburn," he replied, stirring up the mush. "Take off your shirt."

"What?"

He frowned. He wasn't used to dealing with delicate sensibilities. Usually, he didn't have to ask. "All right. Do you have something that would bare your shoulders and the back of your neck?"

"It doesn't hurt that bad," she denied.

"This is guaranteed to stop the pain and keep it from peeling."

"That's okay," she argued. "I don't care if-ahhh!"

He slapped some of the green stuff on her burned forehead.

She closed her mouth. "It stopped it right away."

"Change clothes and pull your hair back. I'll do your back and shoulders."

She found a tube top and took it into the bathroom to change. Maybe he had seen her naked, she surmised at his questioning glance. But it had been dark then and she had been a different person. "What is that stuff?" Just moving her arms brought a grimace of pain.

"It's a combination of avocado and aloe juice. I was doing some work down in Mexico and found out about it."

"Excavating?" She looked at herself in the mirror. There was a big green smear on her face. Her skin was very painful. She argued with herself for following his directions. It hurt to change her shirt.

"Yes. It's a hobby of mine," he replied through the bathroom door.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I manage accounts, mostly overseas, for a bank in Pittsburgh."

"The one where you're the vice president?"

He smiled and nodded. "The one that my family owns and runs."

"So, it's your bank, too?" She opened the door.

He laughed. "Not exactly. My family owns it. My grandfather runs it along with my Mom and Dad. My sister and I work for them."

"So," she sighed, "you don't care if you make your fortune on this diary."

"Not at all. I'm strictly in it for the dig."

"The dig," she repeated.

Charlie patted the seat on a wooden chair. "Sit down. I'll put some of this on you. You'll feel better."

Keri started to tell him that nothing was going to make her feel better. At least not that night, but she did sit down.

He began to smooth the mush across the top of her back. "So, tell me, how did this happen to you, assistant curator Marsh?"

"I have an associate degree in archaeology. The curator, Mr. Grainger, hired me out of school. He promised me that I could learn more if I came to work for the museum. He led me to believe that if I worked there, he'd send me out on digs."

"But he didn't?" Charlie guessed, working on putting the paste on her shoulders.

"I asked him last year about going out on a dig and he told me that I hadn't learned enough yet. Then he hired a man to go to Mexico on an expedition. He doesn't ever plan on letting me go."

"Lean your head forward, Keri," he suggested, his hands full of the green goop. "So when you met me and heard my story, you decided to create your own dig?"

"No," she answered, closing her eyes as she leaned her head down. "Ahh, yes." His touch was wonderfully light and soothing. Everywhere the mush touched her skin, the hot flame became cool. There was something more that she didn't want to think about. His touch was stirring something else inside of her. It made her knees feel weak and her head feel light. It was disturbing. No one had ever made her feel that way. The sunburn was on the outside but his hands were causing her to heat up on the inside.

"All finished." He handed her the bowl. "For your face." He went into the bathroom to wash his hands and think about what she had told him. He believed that he was finally getting the truth. But she'd already fooled him twice. "So, this was your shot at becoming an archaeologist and you took it. That's what I thought."

"You never thought I was trying to cheat you out of your money?" she asked as she stroked the green stuff on her face.

"Not once," he admitted. "I was just a little...emotional...this morning, too."

"I should tell you that the museum doesn't know about this dig. I don't think Mr. Grainger would have even taken the project. He thinks something like this smacks of chasing rainbows."

"But you believe it?" Charlie watched her from the doorway. He would've enjoyed putting the green stuff on her face, too. His hands tingled. Not from the avocado-aloe skin cream but from the chemistry between them. Touching her was like handling an electric current.

She looked at him in the mirror. "Pompeii was only a myth. Until they found it. So was Machu Pichu."

"Touché."

"What do you have to gain from this, Charlie?" she asked him earnestly. "And why pretend to be someone else. Not that you don't do an incredible French accent."

He grinned. "I speak three languages fluently. I went to the best schools. My family is incredibly wealthy, which has in turn given me my fair share. I've been privileged to work with some of the best archaeologists in the field. I just wanted this one dig to be mine. But I knew it couldn't be unless I was willing to give up my place at the bank."

"Why? What difference does it make?"

He grimaced and sat down on the edge of the bed. "My grandfather runs a tight ship. If we find anything and the newspapers get hold of it, it would be considered a scandal to him. He's already on my case. He and I have butted heads since I was a kid. I wouldn't go to the college he wanted. I left home for a while and refused to join the firm. I've made a place for myself, mostly by working overseas, but he's still my family. He had a heart attack last year that was pretty serious and I began to think differently about our relationship. I don't understand his logic about what makes people trust a bank but I love him and I don't want to feel like our last few years would be marred by this."

"But you want to find the dauphin?" In a way, he was as trapped as she was, just that the circumstances were different.

"The first diary came into my hands last year. Armand St. Jacques gave it to me. He was a real man. He lived on this island as a child. We met in Paris. I helped him with some of his accounts. He was dying. He had emphysema and couldn't breathe without constant oxygen. He told me the story and gave me the diary." Charlie smiled. "From then on, it became an obsession. When Armand died earlier this year. I decided that I would try to fulfill his dream and find the dauphin's grave. I knew I could fund the dig but I couldn't set it up or do it alone. I needed someone to cover for me. I needed someone who would feel as passionately as I did about it."

That made sense, Keri decided. That and the fact that she'd already found the information about the real Armand without knowing it. "You needed someone like me. It worked for you that I had the contacts but not the stricture of the museum."

He agreed. "It did."

"But you were afraid to tell me who you were," she guessed. "So you took on Armand's name."

"Certainmente."

"Before I got here, I checked out the story. Armand St. Jacques was born here sixty-two years ago. I got the records back to his great-grandparents. There was a fire that destroyed the records before that. I looked up the nanny's name in Armand's diary. It's an unusual name but it's still repeated here. And I found a record of her family history in a church on the mainland. It shows a woman named Brier Florent who worked on the island for a priest. I can't remember his name but I found his name in the church registry here. That priest is the one who buried Louis Charles, according to the diary."

Her enthusiasm was contagious. "But you couldn't put the sites together from the first diary?"

"No. There are some clues that I was hoping your diary had. You see, they wanted to keep the dauphin safe, so they hid his body. There was no headstone. No marker for him. Brier left the map so that the right people could find him. But you need the name of the ship's captain that brought him, as well as the name of the ship. And the name of the man who helped him escape from France. All of them were incorporated into the hiding place."

"What about the ring and a medallion that were buried with him," he reminded her. "Have you found out anything about them?"

"I think the ring might be King Louis' signet ring. It was never found. No one seems to know what happened to it. It might have been the ultimate safe passage token for the Royalists who helped the dauphin escape, the way they recognized him. The medallion is anybody's guess. There's no real description except that it was a gift from his grandmama, Marie Therese, the queen of Austria."

"Probably something religious," he remarked.

"Catholic."

They looked at each other and realized that they had actually held a conversation that made sense. They hadn't fought. They hadn't made love. There hadn't been any tension between them. Keri hadn't run away. Her cell phone rang and startled them both.

Charlie listened to her conversation as she spoke to Mr. Grainger who couldn't seem to get along without her. He realized that, despite the fact that she wasn't an experienced archaeologist, Keri knew everything there was to know. She had no field training but none of the greats did until they went out for the first time. He looked through her notes that were jumbled on the bed. He wasn't an expert. His degree was in finances, not lost civilizations. He wasn't formally trained in excavation but he had experience in being on sites. Between them, it was possible that they could pull off the coup of the century and find the dauphin's grave. They could prove that he had been brought to the new world after all.

This was the real Keri Marsh. He would stake his reputation on it. In fact, he'd already done it. The minute she knew who he was, he was vulnerable. She could tell the press. He'd gambled on the fact that she wanted to find the dauphin as much as he did, maybe more. She'd done her groundwork, even managed the permits. Their find might lack the applause of a museum or institute. It might take years just to have it acknowledged by the archaeological community. But it would be all theirs. He loved the idea of proving that Armand was right and that the dauphin didn't die in a French prison.

Keri was talking to Mr. Grainger, hedging all around when she might be home and how much her aunt needed her. Charlie knew she could lose her job if they learned the truth about her. Maybe she was vulnerable, too. An assistant curator's job might not sound like much but he had it on good advice that she would be the museum curator one day. She was willing to throw away the sure thing for a chance at her dream.

Keri finally talked Mr. Grainger through where to find and file the monthly expense accounts. She was very aware of Charlie listening to her conversation. She was very aware of Charlie, sitting in her room, looking at her. It made her hands tremble as she put down her cell phone. "Well?"

"I think we should go for it." Charlie said it with a smile. "Neither one of us are experts but that doesn't mean we can't make this find."

"Charlie!" She squealed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her happy, shining face was so close to his. It was natural for him to move his head that fraction of an inch and kiss her lips.

At first, Keri was startled. She started to pull back. Then she relaxed into his arms as though it was the most natural place to be for her.

Charlie felt her struggle...and her surrender. He held her close to him. His mouth was warm and persuasive against hers. She sighed sweetly and her hands slipped behind his neck. She tilted her head and kissed him back with gentle, questing fire.

It was only a moment out of time. Then the clock ticked and the moment was past. Keri's tilting world righted itself. She stepped away from him, a hand to her mouth.

Charlie was surprised to feel her pull away from him. He dropped his hands from her waist and put them into his pockets.

"I don't think we should do this," she said in a low tone. "You'd better go."

"Keri--"

"I'll see you in the morning. We can compare notes and go out to the site."

He shook his head. The woman was fickle. Throwing herself into his arms one minute, throwing him out the next. He took the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped avocado from his face. He couldn't believe that he had kissed a woman wearing avocado paste! How desperate was he? "Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

Keri didn't know what it was about Charlie Eller. In the past three years, she'd only gone on two dates and only one of them had kissed her. Suddenly, she met Charlie and she couldn't keep her hands off of him! She fumed and paced her hotel room, wondering if her new life was going to be filled with amorous encounters with strange men. It appealed to her romantic nature but the responsibility she carried for the dig and her dream went beyond her personal desires. It wasn't just her career, she assured herself as she stalked through her room. It was finding the truth about the dauphin. It was proving to herself that she could do the job.

The problem? Charlie was a devastatingly attractive man. He had a wonderful smile. She liked the way his eyes followed her around the room. She liked talking to him. And she liked kissing him. It seemed as though their mouths were perfect for each other. All the little hollows fit right. And the way he held her...

She sighed. It was a problem. She hadn't counted on Charlie being a distraction. She hadn't counted on wanting to make love to him again. She hadn't thought about making love to him the first time. Well, she did think about it. At least she didn't think she'd go through with her thoughts about it. After dinner at the hotel in Richmond, it was all she thought about for a few days.

She had to buckle down and put him out of her mind. Romantically, of course. She'd be seeing him every day for a while. Sleeping out with him at the site. Sharing meals with him. She'd have to get over it. He was only a man. She worked with men every day.

Keri slept finally, around midnight. It wasn't a restful sleep. She was followed by Armand's uneasy spirit, accusing her of spending too much time with Charlie and not enough time looking for the dauphin. His uneasy spirit was watching while she frolicked naked on the beach with Charlie.

At first light, she was up and dressed. She had showered off the avocado glob that Charlie had spread on her back and shoulders. She left an extra tip on the table for the maid who was going to have to change those sheets. The glob had worked, though. Her skin wasn't sore at all and it hadn't hurt a bit after the avocado was on it. She made a mental note to tell the museum's working teams about it. Then she smeared herself liberally with sun block to avoid it happening again to her again. She was professional. She was experienced.

They hadn't talked about what time they were leaving for the dig. She pulled out all of her gear and slid it across her shoulders. Charlie was probably a late sleeper. He seemed the type. She couldn't sit around and wait for him to get his stuff together. She left a note for him at the front desk, telling him approximately where she would be on the island. He would just have to find his own way out there. In the meantime, she would be setting up camp and looking over the site. She was in charge. This was her dig.

There was no sign of him when she walked out of the hotel. The sun was barely showing at the horizon. The sky was streaked with pink and orange light. It was already hot and humid. Keri adjusted the straps on her backpack and started walking towards the sandy path that led through the trees to the other side of the island.

"I can see you have a lot to learn about partnership during a dig," Charlie said, joining her.

"I left you a note," she advised him coolly.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"We didn't talk about what time we were leaving."

"That's right," he agreed, walking beside her through the trees. "That means you're supposed to call when you're ready to go. Not sneak away."

"I wasn't sneaking," she argued indignantly. She didn't look at him because she was sneaking away. She was afraid he might see it on her face. She was afraid that no matter how professional she was he would see her knees shaking through her jeans when she saw him. When she did look at him, her heart trembled in her chest. God, she wanted him. Right there. Right then. How on earth was she going to camp out with him on the island every night and manage to get any sleep?

Chapter Six

"All right." He turned to face her. "I think we need a few ground rules if we're going to work together."

"I agree with that." She stopped and looked at him.

"First of all, no sneaking off. When one of us is going to go somewhere, we tell the other one."

"Okay," she agreed. "I'm sorry if your...feelings...were hurt because I was leaving without you. I thought you would find your own way from the hotel."

He glared at her. "Second, we share information equally. That way, neither one of us knows more than the other."

"Okay," she said again.

"And third--"

"Third," she corrected whatever he had been about to say, "this is my dig. You've had more experience in the field, I'll grant you that. But I set the whole thing up. I did all the groundwork. I make the primary decisions. With your help, of course."

Charlie nodded. "That's fine. So long as you clue me in on what's going through your twisted little brain."

"Twisted little--"

Charlie started walking again. Keri had to run to catch up with his long, fast strides.

"I think we should have more respect for each other," she told him breathlessly. "How will we work together if we resort to childish name calling?"

"I work just fine with childish name calling," he retorted. "If it makes you feel better, you can call me childish names."

"I don't want to call you anything." She tried to keep up with his longer strides. She panted and kept moving but always stayed a few paces behind.

"That's fine, too, Boss."

"Boss?" she demanded. "All I said was that this was my dig."

"That's right."

"It is my dig." She grabbed for his backpack and pulled hard. "Slow down! I can't keep up with you!"

He stopped. "I didn't think it mattered. You can find your way from the hotel, can't you?"

Keri frowned. "You're impossible! I don't even know why I thought you were attractive! I don't know why I--" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She panted heavily and returned his questioning gaze.

"Is that what this is all about?" he demanded, advancing towards her.

Keri backed up a step. "It doesn't have anything to do with it."

"That's not what it sounded like to me."

"I didn't mean it that way," she returned quickly.

"What way did you mean that, Keri?"

"I meant...never mind!" She started walking again, leaving him behind.

"You're mad because we made love and you didn't know my real name," he surmised, following her. "You're mad because I lied to you."

The sun dappled through the heavy growth above them. Birds called from the treetops while gulls careened higher in the sky.

She took a deep breath. "I'm not mad because you, because we--"

"You can't even say it!" he challenged her.

"Saying it is not a problem."

"The problem is always the morning after. I didn't plan for this to happen either, Keri. I didn't expect to be attracted to you. I expected this to be a business deal, that's all."

"And that's all it is."

"No," he corrected readily, staring at her retreating back. "It's more than that now."

She laughed lightly and kept moving. He had almost caught up with her. There was a place ahead where the trail narrowed and they would have to move single file. She was going to be there before him. "You have an active imagination."

"Then why are you running?"

"I'm not running," she answered. "I'm trying to get to the site and set up camp. We've wasted enough time and--"

He swung her around by the backpack as she'd done to him. "So, you're telling me that the two of us making love didn't mean anything to you. Is that right?"

She wished that she were taller. It was difficult to look disdainfully at a man who was taller. She did her best. "I'm saying that I won't be distracted by you again. We're here to work. That's all."

Charlie searched her face. "I've never forced myself on a woman, Keri. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"I'd only be worried if I were attracted to you. Which I'm not."

He stared at her, wanting to do more than face her down. "It was just the magic of the night and the champagne? There were no emotions involved? I had you pegged as a much different person, Keri."

"Well, unpeg me!" she demanded. "I told you I like to party."

"You also told me you were an experienced archaeologist!"

"Well, you had a French accent!"

"We're never going to get anywhere like this!"

"We're going to find the dauphin," she informed him tautly. "And that's it!"

"Keri?"

"Yes?"

"Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?"

She turned back towards the path and kept walking. The trees grew denser and the path narrowed. She was in the lead and Charlie had to fall in behind. It was probably petty. She knew it was petty. But it made her feel like she was in charge anyway.

The morning grew warmer. Steam rose from the dew that was scattered on the trees. It made the forest look like a tropical jungle. Birds called from the bushes and fluttered by them on the path. Painted lizards scurried along with them, across the white sand.

Charlie hadn't spoken to her in half an hour. She could hear him trudging along behind her but she looked back anyway.

"I'm still here," he said when he saw her glance back at him.

"Just checking."

"You won't get rid of me that easily." He'd never met a woman who could turn so many corners, so quickly! Last night she'd seemed happy to have him along for the dig. This morning she would have left without him. Either she was crazy or he was crazy for being there with her! He glared at her back but he admired her legs in her shorts. She held her head high. Her hair was a silky dark cap that swung as she moved.

The forest finally parted in a clearing of white sand and rock. White light streamed across the church that had been standing there for over two hundred years. A small graveyard was mute testimony to the forces of nature that had swept away traces of the past. Even given the small island population, there should have been more graves. Only a handful of crosses and an angel or two were scattered to the right of the church.

The building was small by modern standards. There were no stained glass windows or ornate woodwork. The outside was whitewashed stone that had mellowed into smooth contours during the long years. The roof was green slate tile. The only windows were set into the open doors. More glass would have only meant a better chance for damage during a storm.

"I'd like to go in," Charlie said in a hushed tone.

Keri started to tell him that she had already been inside and there were no records. But there was something about the white light glowing on the church and the open doors, inviting them inside. "Okay."

He looked down at her, surprised that she didn't tell him that she'd go on without him. But then she always managed to surprise him!

They left their gear on the church steps. Somehow, it had seemed wrong to take it inside with them. They walked in together. It was cooler in the darkened interior. The thick stonewalls kept out most of the heat. Ten rows of wooden pews were lined up facing the altar. The craftsmanship proclaimed them from another era. The scrolling and angles were lovingly made by hand many years before either of them were born. Many generations of churchgoers had taken good care of them. The church smelled of lemon oil and flowers. Hymnals were neatly tucked into wooden brackets on the back of each pew.

The altar was simple. A large wooden pulpit faced the congregation. Around it was a flat wooden rail. A huge spray of azaleas was laid out in front of the pulpit, giving the church interior its only real color.

Charlie held open the wooden gate at the end of the pew for Keri to walk through then followed her, sitting down beside her on the smooth, wooden surface.

"You can imagine them sitting here, during a bad storm, praying for salvation," Keri whispered, looking at the white walls and dark pews.

Charlie stared at the rough wooden cross. It had obviously been left that way. Unlike the smooth, varnished surfaces of the rest of the wood in the church. It looked as though it was made of two pieces of driftwood, twisted together to form a cross.

"It is beautiful, non?" A man's voice hailed them from the back of the church.

Charlie turned to face him. "It is beautiful, oui."

"Ahh!" The man's dark face creased in a smile. "The lady who is looking for the dauphin. What a pleasure to see you again!"

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Father."

Charlie nudged her.

"Oh, this is my partner, Ar-Charlie Eller. He's going to be working with me on the dig."

The priest shook Charlie's hand. "I am Father Etienne. How nice to meet you!"

"This is a wonderful place, Father," Charlie told him with a smile. "Tres serein."

"Merci! Our doors are always open but we try to keep this place a haven for God."

"The cross is very unusual," Charlie observed. "I was admiring it."

Father Etienne nodded. "It has been here since the first church was built in the 1700's. Even when a flood destroyed that church, they kept the cross and placed it in the new sanctuary. The legend says it was made from a piece of driftwood that the first settlers came across when they arrived at the island."

They all looked up and admired the cross in the quiet sanctity of the old church.

"So, where do you begin to search for the dauphin?" Father Etienne asked.

"We're scouting out a few sites," Keri hedged, not wanting to admit that she didn't know exactly where to start looking.

"Bien! If there is anything I can do to help, please call on me."

"Do you believe the dauphin is buried here?" Charlie asked him.

The priest shrugged. "I was raised on this island, the same as Armand St. Jacques. We all heard the old stories. Me? I shall always believe that Armand was the last of the dauphin's lineage. It was a shame that when he died, it died with him. The last of the Bourbon kings."

Back outside in the strong sunlight, Charlie and Keri struggled into their backpacks and picked up their belongings.

"You asked," she reminded him.

"So, everyone raised on the island believes Armand St. Jacques was dauphin's descendent?"

"Not everyone," she responded, adjusting the strap absently on Charlie's backpack. "The new generation only cares about moving to the mainland. I'm sure they heard the old stories but they don't care. And there are a few older ones who laugh at the idea. They think the dauphin's grave would've been found a long time ago if it were true."

"Thanks," he said in surprise at her help. "But you know, a lot of them will come back to the island. Everyone does impulsive things when they're young."

"Did you?" She thought of her own less than impulsive childhood.

"I left home at eighteen and spent a summer at the Arctic Circle. Then I went to college in California rather than go to the same college as my father and his father."

They walked through the tiny graveyard, looking at the headstones. The earliest date was 1948.

"But you went back eventually and went to work for them anyway," she summed up.

"Yeah," he admitted wryly. "When I was eighteen, I just wanted to get away. To be different than everything my family wanted me to be. What about you?"

Keri shrugged, leaning against a struggling pine tree. "I never thought about it. My father died when I was very young. I don't remember him. My mother worked as a waitress, changing jobs every few months. We moved around a lot. She always told me that I needed a good education so I could get a good job. I guess she was right."

"I think most college students would jump at the chance to work hands-on in their field," he said. "There was no way for you to know that your curator was going to be a jerk. Was your mother disappointed?"

"She died before it happened." She shrugged, not telling him how worried her mother would have been about her and how trapped she'd been by her epilepsy. "I don't know if I would've done it if she'd been alive. I think I should have stayed in school and not been so impatient. I thought I would get out into the field faster but I was wrong."

Charlie frowned. "It could have happened to you even with your Master's degree. You have to stand up to him, Keri. Don't let him push you around."

She smiled up into the sunlight. "That's why I'm here. With a find like the dauphin's grave, I can go to any museum and they'll be happy to send me out into the field."

He understood the need to be independent. "So, let's get started."

Keri marveled at their sudden spurt of cooperation and understanding. Maybe it was being in the old church. Maybe divine wisdom had come into them from those moments. Whatever it was, she tactfully didn't mention it for fear it might disappear. They followed a trail that led around to the back of the church. There was a long, low building that the church used for various functions. It was a fifties style metal hut with a rounded roof and oblong base.

"The original church." Keri took out her map. "They didn't want to build the second church on exactly the same site so they moved it up to that spot. There's a plaque where the old church stood." She took him down into a deeply shadowed glade where the pine trees were thick and tall. It took a few moments to scour the needle littered ground and find the plaque again. They had both put down their belongings and were kicking around the fragrant, brown pine needles.

"Here," Charlie said at last. "This must be it."

The plaque was metal, probably brass, that had tarnished with time and the sea air. They both knelt in the pine needles to read the inscription. This is the original site of the Church of the Holy Savior built in the year of our Lord 1786, destroyed by wind and rain, 1790. He shall stretch out his hand and calm the storm.

Charlie looked around himself. Besides that plaque, there were no other signs that anything else had ever been there.

"Obviously, the hurricane took the cemetery, too." Keri saw him look around the area.

"They have a problem with keeping their dead on this island, don't they?"

"This is the low end," she stressed. "The high end isn't as likely to get flooded."

"You'd think they'd have built the church on the high end."

"Maybe they felt like this end needed salvation more." She dismissed the criticism. "We know where the church was. It doesn't matter about the cemetery because they didn't bury Louis Charles in the churchyard anyway."

"That was strange for the time," Charlie observed. "Was he buried on an estate?"

"Hardly. According to the diary, he didn't have any money. The Royalists rescued him but they took the gold entrusted to them for him and helped themselves. I suppose they thought he would ascend the throne at some point and he wouldn't need any money."

"So he survived the Reign of Terror in poverty, exiled in a strange land," he commented. "Maybe he would have been better off dead."

"He had plenty of people who loved him," Keri defended his life. "Brier Florent, for instance. She had a crush on him from the beginning."

"He was the future king of France," he commented wryly. "What girl wouldn't have wanted him?"

"She didn't love him because he might have money and power one day." Keri felt her hackles rising again. "She knew she would lose him if he did become king."

Charlie smiled at her. "You're a romantic, aren't you? Under that no-nonsense attitude and all that organization beats the heart of a true romantic!"

She turned away from him. "I don't think understanding Brier Florent makes me a romantic!"

"That's why you have that sexy lady handle on the Internet."

"That's my roommate's handle. Mine is digger."

Her words brought him some understanding of his own. Keri wasn't the kind of woman for a casual fling with a stranger. Even if she had known his real name, she'd be prickly today about working with him. It was a mistake on his part to think of her that way. A mistake, he was afraid, that wouldn't be easy to rectify. "Keri, we should talk."

"Unless we're talking about the dauphin, I don't think so."

"Okay, Boss, then where do we set up camp?"

Keri ignored his jibe from their earlier conversation. "I think this area under the trees looks good."

"It looks like a low spot in a runoff ditch."

"Where would you suggest?"

"I'd suggest that higher ground, even if we have to walk back a lot. The rocks and the trees would protect us from the wind and rain in case of a storm."

She shook her head. "This is the dry season. Hurricane season is months away. I think we should stay as close as we can to the original site until we can decipher some of the diary."

He shrugged and took off his pack. "It's your dig."

They set up camp only a few yards from the plaque where the old church had stood. Keri cleared away most of the pine needles and set up her tent. She rolled out her sleeping bag and her small stash of supplies. They were mostly envelopes of freeze dried meals and fruit. "Father Etienne says we can use water from the activity hut for whatever we need."

Charlie was looking at the packets in horror. "I ate better stuff than that in Tibet!"

She sniffed and put away her food. "We're not in Tibet. This stuff keeps forever--"

"--because no one eats it."

"And we don't have to leave the site."

He studied her angry face. She was very attractive with her wind blown hair and red cheeks. Her eyes were brilliant and clear, like stones in a fast moving creek. He might make her angry just because she looked at him when she was angry. He wasn't sure. What he did know was that he wanted her. He loved to hear her talk. He loved the sound of her voice. But it always came back to his memories of their night together. She might be able to separate the two, business and personal, but he wasn't so gifted. "Is there something about this dig that you haven't told me? Something about a treasure or a secret sect of people who don't want the dauphin's body found?"

She blinked, surprised by his question. "No. Why? Have you heard something?"

He laughed. "Keri, you aren't guarding the Pharaoh's tomb here! What's supposed to be buried with the dauphin? A ring and a medallion? We could walk into town for a meal once a day."

"I'd prefer not to leave," she reiterated. "Didn't you bring any food?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. I've walked further for a decent meal. You will, too, if we're out here for any time."

"I don't want to take any chances."

"Suit yourself."

Keri looked away. How could she explain to this man who had been around the world, on sites of much greater importance, that this was her site. Her dig. Her chance to shine. Or to fail and crawl back to the museum. "Shall we take out the diaries and compare information?" How would she explain that to a man who had everything he wanted just for the asking?

Charlie rummaged for the diary she'd returned to him in his knapsack. He had it protected in a vinyl, zip bag. He looked up at her as he opened it, feeling her eyes on the old book. "Do I need to attach this to my clothes?" He wished she would look at him with that yearning in her eyes.

Keri blinked. "Of course, I'm interested. It completes what I have."

"I haven't felt very secure trusting you," he teased, just to see her response.

"Oh, for goodness sake," she exclaimed. "Take this diary so you can hold it hostage, if it makes you feel better."

He held out his diary to her then drew his hand back. "You know, it occurs to me that you haven't shared all of your information yet."

"I told Armand everything. I trusted him."

"Keri, angou." He adopted his almost native French tongue. "I am Armand."

"That was before I knew the truth!"

"I explained why I had to tell you I was someone else. If you're so hot about it, call the press. I couldn't stay once my family found out."

"I wouldn't do that," she muttered reluctantly, feeling that pull from deep within her.

"Then how about a truce?" He held out his hand.

She put her hand into his and made the mistake of looking up into his face. The dappled sunlight was attractive on him, shadowing and highlighting. Her heart skipped a few beats then raced on leaving her common sense behind it. "A truce." His hand was warm and strong, closed around hers.

"We work together to find the dauphin and we forget about what happened before," he proposed although he knew he couldn't forget the softness of her lips or the way she had touched him. He smiled at her, earnestly hoping she couldn't see that lie in him as he tried to be sincere with her.

"I can do that. I guess it wasn't so different than what I did to you. Why did you trust me with all that money when you knew I had lied about who I was and what I did?"

"I guess I make business deals the old fashioned way," he admitted, trying not to notice that their hands were still joined. Her fingers were sliding gently back and forth across his own. "I thought I understood why you lied. I liked you and I trusted you. And you were a good bet for keeping my secret."

"Oh." She tried to find more to say but her brain was disengaged while the rest of her body was in full throttle. Just the feel of his hand on hers was making her pulse irregular and making her think about all of those things they had just promised not to think about.

They were so close. Charlie saw that softening in her eyes. He felt it inside of him when she parted her lips to say something else but no sound came out. At that moment, he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to find any lost civilization that might be on that island. He wanted to take her in his arms again and lose himself inside of her. She was so sweet and so warm. He wanted-

Keri shook her head and released his hand. "I-uh-I'm glad you did. Trust me, I mean. How do you want to do this?"

He sighed, wondering when he had become so honorable and probably boring. "You could tell me what you need from this diary and I could look it up."

"Fine, that's fine." She was staring at him like a lovesick cow! He'd just offered her what she had asked for, a separation between their business and personal relationship. What more did she want? She shuddered, afraid to answer that question. "Y-you said there was an escape map? The way they took the dauphin out of France?"

"That's right," he nodded, gently taking out the plastic wrapped map. "What do you need from it?"

"I need to know the name of the man who was the lead conspirator."

He searched through the information on the map. "It's not on here. I'll check the diary."

Keri watched him as he carefully scanned the shriveled pages. His hands were so gentle with the old parchment. A long shiver ran down her spine as she thought about him touching her. "I could just do that," she offered, knowing her thoughts would lead to trouble.

"This is what I do professionally," she reminded him as the time dragged on and he was still looking for the answer. "There's a certain knack to finding things in old documents and that's my specialty."

"Really?" he inquired blandly without looking up from the diary. "I always wondered what an assistant curator did."

Keri gritted her teeth. "I plan the actual excavation. I sift through facts and I find things to make the whole plan come together. I order supplies and I make sure everything runs smoothly so the archaeologists only have to concentrate on their work in the field."

He glanced up at her. "I only have one question for you, Keri."

"What? I'll try to answer it." Without throwing myself on you. Wanting him was making her impatient but she couldn't seem to stop either emotion.

"Do you send out all of your teams with that awful food?"

"You just like to irritate me, don't you?"

"At least I'm not trying to show off what I know every twenty seconds."

"All right, fine. We'll do this your way. Even if it does take a lot longer."

"Hello! Hello!" Father Etienne greeted them as he walked through the tall grasses towards them. "I didn't know if you had brought food so I thought I would share this magnificent lunch with you. A parish lady brought it to me. It is too much to eat alone and especially on such a beautiful day, non?"

"Oui," Charlie answered, getting up to help the priest with the bulging baskets he carried.

"I hope I have not interrupted." The priest handed Keri a cloth to spread out on the pine needles.

"No," she assured him. "We needed a break anyway."

Keri spread out the food from the baskets while Charlie showed the priest the diaries. She helped herself to a piece of fresh bread and some cheese then listened as Father Etienne tried to gather his recollections of the old story.

"When you are born here, you hear the old tales. Pirates, and of course, the dauphin being brought here from France. Even though history has never acknowledged Dauphin Island as the final resting place for the prince, we have always known the truth. Being slightly haughty with our knowledge, we do not care what the rest of the world thinks."

"But it would be wonderful to prove it, wouldn't it?" Keri asked him.

He smiled. "Oui, it would! I for one would like to hear that the history books would have to be changed to fit our version of the dauphin's life and death."

"Unfortunately, they did a damn good job of hiding the grave," Charlie said, popping an olive into his mouth.

"Bien!" The priest laughed. "If it were not so, the two of you would not be here! And just think how terrible it would be to miss this beautiful day that God has given us!"

They all smiled into the warm sunshine and agreed with his words. Keri refused to notice the light in Charlie's hair or the way he laughed when the priest told a funny story about the island. She didn't want to fall in love with him. She felt sure she hadn't yet, even though she'd spent the night with him. Her heart was still intact. It would be another mistake, a much bigger one, to fall in love with Charlie Eller.

"Take a look at this map, Father." Charlie handed the priest the map of the island. "It's old. I know, but maybe you recognize some landmarks."

Father Etienne puzzled over the map but finally shrugged his shoulders beneath his black cassock. "I do not recognize anything on that map. Are you sure it is a map of Dauphin Island?"

"Oui," Charlie answered, taking the map back from the priest. "But two hundred years has a way of changing things."

"I'm sure it does." The priest stood up and stretched his back. "I must leave you now. I have enjoyed our lunch. I have promised a sick friend that I would visit. I will tell him about your quest. He is interested in the history of the island, too. If he has anything to share, I will tell you."

"Thanks, Father," Keri responded with a smile. "And thanks for lunch."

"Oui," Charlie agreed. He lapsed into quick French that Keri had a hard time following. She was good with the written word but conversation was difficult.

"What did you say to him?" she asked when she and Charlie were alone again.

"I told him that he saved me from a meal of dried food and water. Being part French, he could relate."

"The dried food isn't that bad," she told him sourly.

"Dried yak dung isn't that bad," he answered. "This is worse."

"You ate dried yak dung?"

"No. Smoked it."

She shuddered. "That's awful."

"Not as bad as it sounds," he said with a laugh at the face she was making. "I've had worse. Besides, where's your spirit of adventure? You have to be open to different ideas and cultural aspects if you want to be an archaeologist."

"I think I'm open," she defended herself and her spirit of adventure. "I could smoke yak dung if everyone else was doing it."

"Those are brave words." He settled back down with the captain's diary after the lunch things were packed away. "What else are you open to, Keri?"

She looked at him, half lying in the grass and pine needles. You, a small voice inside of her shouted out. I could be open and adventurous with you! "Finding the dauphin. And washing my hands. I'm going to wash my hands."

"Such an adventurous spirit!" he approved as she walked away.

Keri pretended not to hear him.

Chapter Seven

"I think I found it!" Charlie announced.

Keri was halfway through a bag of dried fruit and unable to respond. She blushed as he waited, watching her as she finished chewing an extremely chewy fig. She didn't know why she should be embarrassed, she thought, trying to swallow the fig. She'd waited for an hour for him to find information that would have taken her ten minutes. There was an art to reading old manuscripts. Charlie clearly did not possess that art.

"Finally," she said, when her mouth was empty.

He was still looking at her with that dissecting look in his clear blue eyes.

"Well?"

"Oh, yeah." He looked away from her and focused on the diary. "It says here that the head conspirator, the man who actually brought the dauphin to America, was named Lyle Montague."

"Lyle Montague," she repeated thoughtfully.

Charlie glanced up at her again. "Do you think this was some kind of code? Or was this his real name?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "Brier Florent, the nanny, says in her writing that they hid Louis Charles' body "according to his position and stature in life". She says "look for his final resting place between the man who brought him freedom and the Captain who gallantly brought him to me"."

"But you don't think she meant that he was buried between the two men?"

"No." She shook her head. "Brier lived forty years after Louis Charles' death. She recounts his burial then goes on to speak of other relevant deaths, including the captain and the man who brought him freedom. Apparently, they stayed with the dauphin."

Charlie rubbed his face after swatting away a mosquito. He took out more bug repellent and smeared it on his face and neck. "So you think the reference to the names of the two people, Lyle Montague and the Captain, were just Brier's way of saying where he was buried? She must have been a clever woman to think of that idea."

"Maybe she didn't think of it by herself."

Charlie laid back on the pine needles, his hands behind his head, looking up at the blue sky between the treetops. "What makes you think Brier had a crush on Louis right away?"

"The way she writes about him. She uses endearments for him that are more like a lover than a nanny."

"Wasn't she a little old to be his lover?"

"Louis was twelve when they brought him here. She was fourteen."

He whistled between his teeth. "She must have been very mature at fourteen to be a twelve-year-old boy's nanny!"

"Well, many girls were married and mothers at that age. While he was probably a lot more childlike, even though he was imprisoned for while," Keri considered. "She was probably supposed to be more like his servant than a nanny anyway."

"They do speak of him being small and sickly when they picked him up at the prison," Charlie related. "Maybe he never really recovered from his ordeal."

"And that's why he died so young," she finished his train of thought.

He looked at her and she smiled. It only lasted a moment but he couldn't look away from that small smile. It had a fierce sweetness to it that took his breath away. He sat up and pulled out a notebook. "You know, maybe none of these people used their real names."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. Brier Florent? What is that? Roughly, heather in bloom? Lyle Montague? A sharply pointed place on an island? Don't those names sound a little contrived? Even for the French?"

Keri took out her own notebook. "Maybe you've got something, Charlie. Maybe all the names were fake to protect the real people from reprisal if they were found out by the Revolutionaries."

"Or to set this whole thing up." He moved closer to her. "Just these two names. Heather in bloom and a sharply pointed hill on an island. It sounds like your theory could be right. The names could be only code words for finding the dauphin."

"When does heather bloom anyway?" She pushed her hair back behind her ear to look at him.

"Spring in England," he replied quietly. "Maybe winter here, if there's any growing."

"Heather's pretty resilient, I think," she continued. "Like a weed. Hard to get rid of. It could still be here. Of course, if it is, it's probably all over the island by now."

"So, all we need is the Captain's name?"

She took out her glasses reluctantly and looked at her notes. "And the name of the ship. Although, from Brier's writings, the grave has to be in this area. It was on consecrated ground, near the church. This land looks pretty flat to me."

She looked up and found him looking at her rather than his notes or the diary. In the drowsy warmth of the afternoon, the scent of pine was very strong around them. The birds were very still in the heat. Only the sound of the ocean lapping at the shore filled the quiet.

"You wear glasses?"

She took them off quickly and dropped them on the ground. "Only to read."

"I guess you should always read," he said with a small smile. His eyes traced the contours of her face.

"You don't have to make fun of me," she told him angrily. "We can't all be born rich and perfect."

Charlie scooped up the glasses from the pine needles, shook them off, and handed them back to her. "I was thinking that I understood why your curator hired you but won't let you leave the office."

She grimaced and put the glasses away. "I suppose you think they're sexy?"

His gaze didn't move from hers. "On you."

Suddenly, the forest air was stifling. Keri stood up, feeling hot and restless. "I'm going to take a look around and see if there's any high ground around here."

Charlie watched her walk away. For just an instant, he thought he saw something besides annoyance in her eyes. Then she closed down and shut him out. He lay back down again and stared at the sky with its passing parade of white clouds.

He finally understood a little more about Keri Marsh. She was shy. He wouldn't have believed it if he wouldn't have seen it for himself. For all of her tough talk and her sexy lady handle, she was a little uncertain. It was unusual for him to be attracted to a woman like Keri. He liked outgoing women who were comfortable with themselves and their relationships with men. But he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that she intrigued him.

He liked to see her blush and he liked to see her angry. It was getting to be a habit, watching her delicate face run through the gamut of emotions. Even contributing to them. He was willing to bet that the woman in red velvet was still there inside of her, waiting to get out without a disguise. He was waiting to take her in his arms and kiss her again. Waiting was something new for him. He couldn't say that he liked it but it was...interesting.

Keri walked as far as she could, as fast as she could, then she sat down and tried to catch her breath. It was too hot for even brief dramatic gestures of escape. She wasn't used to the humidity on the island. She certainly wasn't used to men telling her that she looked sexy in her glasses. Especially men like Charlie! You mean, men you've slept with.

She had enough energy left to kick a gray rock across the sand. It annoyed her. She'd promised herself that it wouldn't bother her. That he wouldn't bother her. But he said things and did things that made her feel confused. It wasn't like her. Keri looked around herself. The sooner they found the dauphin's grave, the better. She could go back and stake her claim on a real place in the world. Charlie would go back to his world. It was what she wanted, she told herself. But it was, also, depressing.

Not wanting time to contemplate why it would be depressing, Keri was up and on her feet again. There was no sign of any hill or high ground anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Maybe the land had changed. Flooding and storms could wash away a hill after two hundred years. The guideposts might be meaningless after so long. If she could find heather growing on the island, that might be a clue, even without the hill. The plant might have survived over the years, even with the natural disasters. Unfortunately, she couldn't recall what heather looked like. It was a weed but she wasn't sure if it was red, yellow, or purple.

It occurred to her that she needed to go back and face Charlie, finish the remainder of the clues, then do some more research. If they could find a topographical map of the island, that could give them a start. How far did consecrated ground extend from the church? That might be a question Father Etienne could answer. The search area might be much larger than she thought. She sighed. First she had to go back and face Charlie.

He was asleep when she wandered back to their camp. He must have been looking up at the sky again because that was how she found him. It was funny because she wouldn't have thought he was a dreamer. Yet, that was a dreamer's pose. He was a banker. Could anything be more practical than that time honored occupation? Or more boring?

He'd told her that he'd run away at first but then he'd gone back home. He was doing what his family expected of him. Someday, she realized, he would probably run the bank in his grandfather's place. His children and grandchildren would be making jokes about him dying in the vault. But for now, he was sleeping in the pine needles. He looked like a man who spent most of his life outside. She didn't think he looked like a staid banker. Not like any banker she'd ever known anyway. She moved a little closer to him, careful not to wake him.

His hair tended to curl a little. His nose was very straight. Very aristocratic. His cheeks were lean and smooth. There was no hint of shadow on that face. He looked very young. She knew he had to be at least her age, probably older. His mouth had an upward tilt, even in sleep. Keri felt like Artemis, goddess of the hunt, coming down to watch a young king asleep in the forest. It was a fanciful thought and it made her smile. She moved a little closer to him.

She supposed that he was used to having anything he wanted. Any one he wanted. Lots of exotic, glamorous women all over the world. What did he think of her? Did he see her as a silly assistant curator? Or as an archaeologist in charge of a serious expedition? Did he see her as an attractive woman? Or was he just amusing himself at her expense? She sighed and let her eyes drift down the long length of him to his feet. She took her time. Her gaze wandered slowly back to his face. His blue eyes were almost the color of the sky. His open, blue eyes!

"Hi," he said as though he'd expected to wake up with a woman ogling him.

Keri shot straight up and fell back into the pine needles.

"I was just looking at, I mean, for you! I uh-had an idea and I was going to tell you what it was. When you woke up." Her tongue was running faster than her brain could process the thoughts. "I was-uh-waiting for you to wake up."

"I'm surprised. And flattered. You could have just left me here and gone off to do whatever it is."

"We're partners," she explained with a quick smile as she lifted herself out of the pine needles. "I won't leave without you again."

"Good." His eyes held hers. "I hope I wasn't snoring."

"No. You were beautiful. I mean, you were sleeping beautifully. That is, peacefully. Resting in peace."

He grinned. "We're awfully close to a graveyard for that."

Keri flicked pine needles from her hair. This was getting worse. "We have to go back to town."

"Oh? Are you already tired of that dried stuff?"

"No. It's my idea. Are you awake?"

"Awake enough." He grinned at her. "What's the idea?"

Keri talked non-stop on the way back to town. It was almost a two-hour hike. Charlie was impressed. First, she'd waited for him. Then she talked to him and explained her plan. What next? She'd actually trust him and want him to be there? He didn't expect that. She turned around too many times. She was like the Stealth plane when it came to his radar. He didn't have a clue where she was going. But she sure had some beautiful lines!

They sat in the cool library for an hour. Charlie made copies of the topographical map they found of Dauphin Island. Keri put on her glasses and looked up pictures of heather.

"So?" Charlie asked when he'd finished the maps.

"Heather is a tall plant with tiny purple flowers. It grows in loose, damp soil," she read aloud. "It shouldn't grow here." She showed him the picture. "Too hot. What was the earliest topo you could find?"

"1860. Except for a rough group of drawings done in the early 1800's." He showed her the ink sketches. They showed the beaches and the old fort as well as the church.

"What's this?" It looked like someone had drawn a bathtub on the island.

"I don't know," Charlie said, turning the paper to get a better angle on it. "It doesn't say. Could be a rock or something."

Keri looked at the rest of the map. "The artist doesn't seem to include other rocks on the map."

Charlie shrugged. "Let's ask the librarian."

They asked but the woman had no idea. They made other copies of the map and enlarged the size of that area.

"It might not be anything important," Charlie said. "The church is on the other side of the island."

"Is this a cross here?" She peered closely at the drawing.

Charlie put his head down close to hers and looked. "It could be a cross. It could also be a stray mark."

She turned her head and looked at him. He was so close. She could see tiny dark flecks in the blue of his eyes. "I've seen this before."

"Where?" he asked in a whisper.

Keri felt his breath on her face. She was watching his lips as he spoke. It reminded her of his kiss. How it had felt when he had pressed her to him. How they had fit so perfectly together.

"Keri?" He touched her cheek with his hand. "Come back, darling. Or let's take this to a less public place."

Her lips parted at his touch. She heard his indrawn breath when she didn't look away. She told herself to look away. They were in the middle of the library. Say something!

Charlie moved closer until their lips were barely a breath apart.

"Charlie," she said finally with a faint sigh.

"Keri." His lips touched hers.

It was a brief caress but it left her mouth tingling.

"I was watching you while you were sleeping," she confessed in a soft voice as she looked into his eyes.

He smiled. "I wasn't sleeping."

"We'll have none of that in here, please!" the librarian addressed them.

Charlie moved away from her and gathered up his copies of maps. Keri swallowed hard and put away the books she'd taken from the shelves. Her face was burning with embarrassment as the other library patrons smiled and looked at them.

The sun was bright after the dimness in the library building. Keri blinked her eyes and wondered what had prompted her to confess that she had been watching him sleep. For that matter, what had made her stare at him until he kissed her? She was deliberately provoking him. She glanced up at him as they walked down the stairs together. What now?

"I noticed a local historical society down the block," he said to her when they reached the street. "They might have some information. We could meet back here in an hour."

"Where are you going?" She tried not to sound annoyed. He had kissed her, hadn't he? It hadn't been her imagination, had it? Why didn't he say something about it?

"I'm going to pick up some real supplies. If we're not going to leave the camp, I'm going to have something edible there with me." He touched her hand and smiled at her.

Keri felt as though her head was spinning. She watched Charlie walk away, and then she turned back towards the historical society. The building was small and old, dating back to the 1700's, according to the sign on the outside. The lumber was rough and cracked. The house itself had that old house smell of years and life. It was dark but very cool inside. The woman behind the desk, Mrs. Leonard, put on her glasses and looked at the map for a long time.

"Where did you get this?" the woman asked finally. She looked up from the map and stared at Keri.

"The library. I was wondering if you knew what that symbol meant." She pointed out the bathtub and cross in the center of the map.

"Well, I wouldn't trust everything I find there as gospel," the woman explained, glancing at the symbols. "Is there something in particular you're looking for?"

"I'm here doing research to find the site of the dauphin, Louis Charles' grave."

Mrs. Leonard almost burst out laughing. "The dauphin? That's an old tale! Everyone knows that he died in the Bastille in Paris before he could be ransomed or released. He died just after Marie Antoinette."

"I may have some new proof that he died here on this island."

The older woman looked at her judiciously. "You met Armand St. Jacques, didn't you?"

"Yes," Keri admitted quickly. It was half true. "You know him?"

"If you've lived on this island for more than twenty years, you knew Armand. The last of the Bourbon kings!"

"You believe that?" Keri quizzed.

Mrs. Leonard snorted. "Not a bit! That man is a fraud! He can't be a descendent of the dauphin if the dauphin never came to this country! History is fact, not imagination!"

"Other people seem to think Armand is the real thing," Keri told her quietly, not bothering to tell the woman that Armand was dead.

"Other people? You mean Father Etienne and some of the old timers? They want to believe that they knew royalty. The rest is make believe."

"How can you be so sure?" Keri demanded.

The woman sighed and patted her blond hair. She smiled at Keri. "Plenty of research has been done on that story. Don't you think everyone wanted to believe it was true? Think of the tourist dollars! But it's just a myth. Like the Loch Ness monster. Spend your time on the beach, young lady! Don't waste it chasing shadows and ghosts!"

Keri thanked the woman and left. The sun was getting low in the sky, gilding the waves. From that point, she could see the lights coming on in Mobile across the bay. She was feeling a little let down. She stared off at the water and thought about Armand and Father Etienne. Not that any of their stories would matter if they didn't have the proof of the diaries. The two diaries are what made the whole thing believable. All they needed was the hard proof. A horn sounded from behind her and Keri jumped.

"I got us a ride back out to the site." Charlie leaned his head out of the open window. The man behind the steering wheel waved at her.

She climbed into the back of the Jeep and they started off down the main road towards the docks.

"This is Louis," Charlie introduced them. "He works for Father Etienne. He was going out that way anyway, so I asked him for a lift."

Louis nodded his dark head to Keri.

"This is Keri Marsh, our archaeologist," Charlie told the man.

"You are looking for the dauphin's grave?" Louis asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "Although I've heard it's been done before."

"Many times," he answered briefly.

"I stocked up on supplies. We should be good for a few days anyway," Charlie said, glancing back at her.

She nodded but didn't reply. He watched her as she avoided his eyes and looked out the side window instead. Something was wrong. Was she upset because he'd kissed her again? "Hungry?"

"No, not really."

Charlie sighed. She had changed course on him again in mid-flight. At least he could see it this time. Would he ever be able to keep up with this woman?

Louis began to tell them every story he'd ever heard about the dauphin and his life on the island. He was an orphan who'd been raised by Father Etienne, so he knew all of them. "And there was the beautiful Brier Florent, the dauphin's lover."

Keri's ears perked up. "You know about Brier?"

Louis nodded. "She was as beautiful as her name. She couldn't marry the dauphin, in case he went back to France and became the King. But they had three beautiful children together, two girls and a boy. Some people said that she died with him but the truth is that she lived on and saw her grandchildren. She was swept out into the bay during a terrible storm. They never recovered her body. For years, she haunted the beach near the church. They said she rang the church bell when a bad storm was coming. She's at rest now, though. She and Louis Charles found each other and they are together."

"Thank you, Louis," she said quietly. "That was a beautiful story."

They got out of the Jeep at the church. Keri was amazed when they opened the back and there were ten bags of supplies. "I don't think you have to worry about going hungry now." She helped Charlie carry the supplies back to their camp.

He grinned. "I wasn't worried about going hungry. Just eating that awful stuff you brought."

"There's nothing wrong with dried food."

Louis and Charlie both laughed.

"And there is nothing wrong with kissing a donkey!" Louis said, waving to them.

"Exactly. Thanks, Louis!"

"My pleasure!"

Keri wasn't feeling especially hungry. She'd gone over her figures in the lantern light. If she was careful, she had enough money to last the rest of the month. That was all the time she could take from work as well. They would have to find the answer to the dauphin's burial during that time or she would have to give up and go home empty handed.

"Are you finished?" Charlie startled her as he came up behind her. He'd been making dinner as she looked over her accounts.

She nodded and took off her glasses. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to take them off again without thinking about him telling her that she looked sexy in them. "If you'll give me your receipts, I'll write you a check for the supplies you bought."

"That's not necessary," Charlie told her with a smile. "It came from the same place. It's not like I'm going to use it as a tax write-off."

"What will you do if we do find the grave? You won't be able to tell anyone."

"I'll worry about that when the time comes," he answered, walking back towards his makeshift cook stove. "Dinner?"

Charlie had put together a small table by covering a huge old tree stump with a white tablecloth. He poured them each a glass of white wine. They'd each brought a folding chair. Keri dragged them up to the 'table'.

"This is delicious," she enthused when she'd tasted the fresh mushroom soup he'd made for them.

He handed her a chunk of crusty bread. "I may not be the greatest at retrieving information, but I know how to live on site. Why do you think all of those 'experts' want me at their excavations?"

"I was wondering," she admitted with a grin. "After tasting this soup, I know."

"So, where are we and where do we go from here?"

Keri told him what the woman at the historical society had told her. "I guess for every non-believer, there's Louis and Father Etienne. Tell me about Armand."

Charlie shrugged. "There isn't much to tell. I met him in Paris when they sent me to close out an account for him. He was dying and he was trying to get his affairs in order. We had dinner and he told me his story about growing up here, knowing that he was the heir to the French throne but knowing that no one believed it off the island."

"Or some on the island for that matter."

"He told me the story his mother had told him about Brier and the dauphin. He said he was descended from the son of Brier and Louis Charles."

"What about the two girls?" Keri wondered. "Didn't they have children?"

"Apparently, not," Charlie answered. "I've poked around but I couldn't find any other lineage. I know the one girl died as a child. I think the other died in childbirth and her child was stillborn."

"Royalty was never hardy."

"And without their servants and their comforts, they couldn't survive?"

"You'd think that peasant stock would've made them stronger."

Charlie smiled. "It was a long time ago. The dauphin only lived to be twenty- six. Even though Brier outlived him, she died in her forties, according to Father Etienne's accounts."

"Armand should have had a child to pass it all on to," Keri added. "He thought he was the heir to the French throne then had no children to claim it after him."

"Actually," Charlie told her, pouring another glass of wine for each of them. "Armand did have a son. He was killed in a skiing accident in Zurich when he was seventeen."

Keri sipped her wine. "There must be a curse on the family."

"Armand's death was the curse of smoking two packs a day for forty years. I was glad I never started smoking when I listened to him breathe."

"You never tried it?"

"My grandfather gave me extra money in high school and college for not smoking, drinking too heavily or using drugs. I liked the perks."

Keri tried to see his face in the dim light. "Your grandfather sounds a little controlling."

Charlie laughed. "You could say that. What about you? Did you ever smoke?"

"My mother smoked. When I wanted to try my first cigarette, she smoked one with me. I didn't smoke one again."

"Would you do that with your daughter?"

"Probably not. I don't know. I can't even imagine having children."

"Is that to say I'm with the only woman in the world whose biological time clock isn't ticking?"

She smiled. "I'm sure that's not true! I'm just not ready for children yet."

"Archaeology first?"

"Something like that."

Charlie looked out into the dark woods around them. "Do you think the dauphin is out there?"

"I wouldn't have without the diary. Then when I read about the second diary detailing the dauphin's escape, it all came together."

"But it might still not be the answer you're hoping for. History does have a tendency to get turned around sometimes."

Keri sighed. "I guess I'll have to take it either way it comes. What about you?"

Charlie lit the lantern then looked at her face in the feeble light. "Either way, it's been an adventure."

"Which means, no. You won't be happy unless you find the dauphin."

He had to agree. "I won't lose my job over this. Even if I get caught. But I would like to be right if that happens. I would like to be holding the dauphin's medallion. My grandfather loves a winner. What about you?"

"If we don't find anything, I'll do what I should have done a long time ago. Look for another job."

After dinner, they brought both of the diaries and the map to the stump table.

"Let's look up the last two names," Keri suggested. "I'll clean up since it's the captain's diary. We need the names of the captain who brought the dauphin here and the name of the ship."

"And I did make dinner," he reminded her.

"And it'll take you that long to find them."

He glanced up at her. "But I make great soup."

She laughed. "You make great soup. I'll take you along on all of my future expeditions."

"Thanks."

It took longer than Keri thought, throwing away the trash and pumping enough water to heat and clean the pot. She saw him engrossed in the diary and told him that she was going to take a shower in the church hut. He was still working when she came back with a towel wrapped around her head. "Maybe you should let me take over for a while."

If she expected any argument, she was mistaken. He pushed the diary towards her. "Thanks. I could use a shower myself." He stood up and stretched his arms and shoulders. "The captain and the ship have to be in there. They even wrote down what they had for breakfast every morning!"

Keri shrugged as she took her spot at the table. "I suppose they wouldn't have wanted to use something easy to find."

"But they didn't know when they wrote this stuff that they would use it to hide the dauphin's grave."

"That might be true," she agreed. "Or maybe it did occur to them, or to Brier, how hard it would be to put both diaries together and come up with answers."

"I'm going to shower." He picked up a towel and soap. "How's the water?"

"Cold," she answered without looking up from the diary. "There's no hot water. I put up a line to hang wet clothes."

"Great," he said, already from the distance. "We could've stayed at the hotel."

Keri smiled then lost herself in the diary.

Chapter Eight

The night was full of sound around her. Owls hooted from the dark trees. Frogs croaked from the swamp. There was the occasional buzz of insect wings but it was still early in the year for those to be too much of a problem--another advantage to being there before the real heat of summer.

Keri set herself to read the diary. Her conversational French might be minimal but she could read old French almost as well as she could English. The trick was not to get interested or bogged down in the story. It was easy to fall into the habit of reading for the sheer pleasure of knowing the words came from men who lived over two hundred years ago. But she would never find her information that way. By the time Charlie came back from his shower, she knew the captain's name.

"Is that a trick?" he asked, looking over her shoulder. "If so, can I learn it?"

"Concentration," she told him, turning a page. "You have to know what you're looking for and only skim the story. Do you know what the men had for breakfast on the first morning?"

He nodded while he used the towel to dry his hair. He hadn't put on a shirt yet. Water drops glistened on his chest in the lantern light. Keri made the mistake of looking up at him. "They had fresh bread the first morning, with cheese."

Keri's glasses were fogging up just looking at him. He really was a beautiful man. Nice shoulders. Narrow hips. Smooth chest. His hair was damp and curly. She looked back at her diary, trying to refocus on the words.

"Well?"

"I couldn't tell you what they had for breakfast. I focus on what I'm looking for and I don't really read the rest. Just skim it."

"That's it? That's the secret?"

She tried to concentrate again on the diary. Seeing only a tall man with strong arms and gentle, smiling lips.

He laughed. "How many of these things have you done?"

"Too many," she told him.

"That must count for something."

Thunder clapped from a distance and they both looked up. Lightning streaked across the dark sky.

"Maybe we better move this inside."

"Just another minute," she argued, skimming the text again.

The next clap was louder, closer. Lightning forked from the ground to the sky, illuminating the clouds.

"These storms come up quickly," Charlie reminded her. "My diary doesn't need a shower."

Keri hardly heard him. She felt that she was close to the answer.

The first raindrop fell on her nose. The next on her cheek. Charlie grabbed the diaries and the maps. Keri looked up and started to complain when the rain started to blow in from the sea. She picked up the lantern and scooted into the tent after him. The rain came down hard as she secured the tent flap against the wind. She sat down in one corner of the tiny tent and placed the lantern between them. "Sorry. I think I almost have it."

He handed the diary back to her and picked up one copy of the map. "Anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly single minded?"

"I think someone might have mentioned it." She looked down at the diary but her glasses were wet. She cleaned them on her shirt, trying not to notice how close they were in the tent.

"An old boyfriend?"

"What?" She pretended to be engrossed in the task.

He was undaunted. "Did an old boyfriend tell you that you were single minded?"

"No. Actually, it was Dr. Grainger, the curator."

"The first time he hit on you and you ignored him?"

Keri's face turned scarlet.

"Never mind," he responded. "You don't have to answer. So, what was the captain's name?"

She consulted her notes, glad that he'd changed the subject. "Abevoir Mayhew."

"Is that it?"

"It's the only name I've seen for him."

Charlie made a note of it on the map. He added Brier Florent and Lyle Montague. Then because he had nothing else to do, he studied Keri Marsh.

Keri felt his eyes on her. It interrupted her concentration as nothing else had ever done. She pretended to adjust her glasses but it was an excuse to look at him. He was just sitting there, staring at her. "Is-uh-something wrong?"

"No," he answered in a deep voice.

The storm blew at the tent, bumping at the nylon, battering at the thin poles that held their fragile shelter. Rain came in heavy sheets and lightning lit up the night.

She tried to focus on the diary again but it was no use. His gaze burned into her brain and turned it to mush. All she could see was Charlie, sitting a few feet away from her. She was intoxicated by his aftershave and obsessed by scenes of him kissing her. "Why are you staring at me?"

He looked up at her from the map he'd been perusing. "I wasn't." He grinned. "At least, not that time."

Keri frowned and returned her gaze to the diary. She wasn't playing this game with him. He was trying to make her aware of him. He was trying to distract her. And he was doing a pretty good job of it. Finally, she gave up. She was staring at blank pages with text that meant nothing to her. A clap of thunder almost made her jump out of her skin. She put down the diary and prayed that the rain would stop so that she could escape to her own tent. "I can't focus with all this-this racket." She blamed the storm. She took off her glasses and stuck them in her pocket.

"Cards?" he asked, taking a deck out of his knapsack.

Keri nodded and he dealt her a hand. She didn't know how to play poker, so they played Rummy. He beat her consistently. She fumed and forced herself to play better. The problem was, she was still in his tent with him. She couldn't concentrate any better on the cards than she could on the diary.

"Ever been married?" he asked her blandly.

"No," she answered quietly.

"Ever come close?"

She picked up her new hand and glanced at it. "Not really. I worked to pay for school and there wasn't time. Then afterwards, there didn't seem to be anyone interesting available. What about you?"

Charlie discarded. "I came close once. It was more like a merger than a marriage. The lady's father was president of another bank. Our parents sort of pushed us together. My grandfather had a heart attack and I was feeling guilty. I knew this was something he wanted. I wanted to make him happy."

"What happened?"

"We realized that we weren't right for each other and called the whole thing off."

"You were lucky."

"Sometimes, I wonder," he told her. "Sometimes, it seems like it would be nice to come home to someone. My sister got married last year. She's really happy."

Keri discarded and thought that her hand looked pretty good. It was a surprise to hear him say that he wanted to come home to someone. He just didn't seem the type. "You'd probably have to give up your part time archaeology career."

"You're probably right. Gin." He laid out his hand.

"How can you do that?" she fumed, looking at his cards.

"Practice," he replied with a smile. "Long flights. Spending all my free time at excavation sites. It catches up with you."

"And makes you a card shark?"

"That's sharp," he corrected. "Card sharp. And no, it just makes me good at it. Like you getting information from the diary that I couldn't seem to find. Pay up."

They were playing for pennies. Keri gave him her last penny.

"You're on your honor now," he said carefully, searching her pretty face in the dim lantern light.

"I may as well quit!"

"It's something you'll have to learn," he explained, shuffling the deck. "Some of the best card players I know are archaeologists."

"Fine," she relented as he dealt out another hand. "But this is it. I'm exhausted. I'm going to sleep after this even if it hasn't stopped raining."

"We could both bunk in here," he offered. "There's plenty of room."

Keri could hardly tell him that she'd never get any sleep that way. It would just inflate his ego and he'd realize that he was bothering her when he was watching her. She picked up her cards and pushed them around in her hands.

"That's your first mistake," he told her.

She looked out at him from behind the barricade of her hands holding her cards. "What?"

He leaned towards her and put her cards into one of her hands. "You have to watch your opponent. That's the only way to tell what they're doing."

Keri frowned but left her cards in her one hand. She put the other in her lap and looked at her opponent. He was studying his cards. His hair was dry. He wasn't wearing a shirt. The yellow lantern light burnished the muscles in his chest. His eyes were shadowed blue pools. He looked up at her and she was drowning in them.

"Card?" he asked as she hesitated.

"What? Oh."

"Okay." He stopped her, putting his hand on hers that was holding the cards. "What did you see when you looked at me?"

Keri's heart began to beat faster. "I-uh-don't know." Her gaze skittered away from him.

"Look again," he encouraged.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. Her breath was erratic. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at him again. "I-uh-see a man."

"Okay. Do you notice anything different about me?"

"You-uh-aren't wearing a shirt."

Charlie cleared his throat. Her hand was very soft under his. Her eyes were big and luminous in the muted light. Playing cards with her was becoming an exercise in restraint. "That's true. But something more immediate."

"I-uh--" She looked from his parted lips to his smiling eyes. Only his eyes weren't smiling anymore. They were dark and intent. His gaze made her legs feel like string. Her insides were jumping, zooming around like they were on a roller coaster.

He was sorry he'd started the whole thing. She was staring at him in a way that was making him contemplate crazy things. His cards lay forgotten on the tent floor. He wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her lips, soft and sweet, under his.

"Your eyes," she whispered finally. "They look...different. More...intense."

He leaned forward and kissed her gently then held his head back to look at her. Her eyes had closed and her lips were softly parted. "Open your eyes, sweetheart," he coaxed. "What do you see now?"

Keri opened her eyes. He was so close. She dropped her cards and put a hand on either side of his face. "I-I don't know. There wasn't anything in the manual about this."

"There is no manual for this," he assured her. Then he kissed her again. Butterfly kisses, when he wanted so much more. When she made him imagine so much more.

Keri threaded her hands through his hair and leaned back under the pressure from his body. She felt like she could go on kissing him forever. Like she was weightless and drifting. She had never felt this way about a man. He was carrying her to another place where her thoughts were suspended and her emotions were all that mattered. "Charlie." She sighed, looking up into his face. "I know we shouldn't--"

"Shouldn't?"

"We're working together. We could be distracted."

"Let's hope so," he returned wickedly. He put her hands on his chest. "Touch me, cherie, and let's find out."

Keri didn't need the invitation. Her hands were on that smooth, warm flesh, sliding under the waist on his jeans. He groaned and she felt hot all over. Wasn't this the way it was supposed to be? How often did a person find someone like this in a lifetime of mediocrity?

Charlie blew out the lantern and set it to the side. He rolled over and Keri was straddling his hips. He brought her closer to him, his pulse zooming when his hands deftly found that she hadn't bothered to put on a bra after she showered. Her breasts were taut and warm in his hands. Keri shuddered delicately, feeling the hard, hot evidence of his arousal under her, pressing against her delicate skin. "Oh, Charlie."

"Kiss me, Keri."

She leaned across his warm body. The sensation was delicious. She felt brazen and wild and alive under his touch. She teased him with her lips, biting gently at his mouth and pulling back when he tried to complete the connection. She wiggled and he groaned again. Then he was sliding over her again and the tent floor was under her naked back.

"Keri, angou, sweetheart." Charlie moved against her softness.

"Charlie," she murmured, taking in a sudden deep breath as he brushed against her.

"Tell me, cherie," he encouraged. "Tell me that you want me."

She wrapped her legs and arms around him and held him to her. "Oh, yes, Charlie, angou, sweetheart, darling, I want you."

"Keri! Look out!"

The tent collapsed around them and the quick build-up of water surged down through the ditch and washed them with it towards the beach. The cold, gritty water invaded the tent, rolling them over and over in the force of the stream.

"Hold on!" Charlie yelled to her above the noise of the storm and the loud rush of the water. "The tent is tied down. It can't go any further."

Keri clung to him and a tree root ripped through the bottom of the tent. It was dark except for the quick flashes of lightning. She thought the lantern must have been lost then recalled that Charlie had blown it out.

Charlie held on to Keri and prayed that the extra rope he'd attached to the tree held them in place. The fury of the storm broke around them while he tried to find the front tent flap. But the tent had collapsed and been turned upside down. There was no way to find the opening until the water subsided. He wasn't willing to risk that the rope would hold. Water could be a powerful thing.

"What are you doing?" It felt like the water level was rising. She was laying in water that was inching up on her.

"Trying to get us out of here," he replied in a calm voice. He shifted Keri in his grip and grabbed the knife from the pocket of his jeans.

The water resisted him trying to pull up enough of the nylon to cut. He persisted, grasping at the tent and cutting the spot where his hand fell. More dirty water and sand pushed in through the hole he'd cut. He cut it bigger and spluttered in the spray from the surging creek.

"Can we crawl out of here?"

"The stream's pretty strong," he admitted. "But I think it's our best shot."

Charlie ripped the tent open wider and pushed Keri out of the opening. She dug her hands into the dirt to try to get away from the current. It was a losing battle. The water was sucking her back towards the ditch. She gagged in the choking water as she clawed for something to anchor herself. Her hand found the larger end of the same root she'd held in the tent. She grabbed it and pulled, feeling her body ooze along the wet ground. Stones and sticks scraped along her chest and stomach but she pulled herself out of the ditch.

She lay, panting, on the higher ground. She pushed her hair from her face to look back at the storm surge. Terrified by the sight of the deep water and the terrible current, she yelled for Charlie. The sound and fury of the storm echoed back at her as though she were screaming into an abyss. She inched across the ground with her foot wrapped around the heavy tree root and reached down to the tent to try to help Charlie. In a swift flash of lightning, she saw his face through the opening in the green tent. He reached out his hand to her.

Keri heard the sickening twang of the rope as it snapped. It had been the only thing keeping the tent from washing away. She screamed as she saw the rope fly towards her. The dark water pushed the tent down the ditch and into the darkness. "Charlie!" Her voice was drowned out by the sound of the heavy rain and thunder. There was no response from that terrible blackness. Keri raced down the uneven ground, careful to avoid the slippery bank that would lead her back to the ditch. There was no sign of him.

She ran back to the campsite. Her tent was gone, too, but some of the supplies were still hanging from a tree limb. Quickly, she grubbed around until she found a flashlight. She turned its wide beam on the coursing water in the runoff ditch. The sight of the deep water, rippling with current, made her hands tremble. She took the flashlight and followed the ditch through the forest. It ran on through the underbrush, past the church, to the beach. Picking up other runoff along the way, it became larger and deeper.

Ignoring the rain and the flashing strokes of lightning, she searched the beach for any sign of Charlie or the tent. There was nothing. She kicked something as she walked across the runoff spot where it crossed the wide sand. It was the lantern, crusted with sand and rocks. "Charlie!"

Keri looked out at the white-capped ocean. The sky was black and roiling in the high-energy blasts of light from the storm. Using the flashlight, she swept the beach again then followed the path back to the campsite along the runoff ditch. There was no sign of Charlie. She was crying and deathly cold, even though the night was still warm. The only thing she knew to do was to go back and use the phone in the church activity hut to phone the Coast Guard and rescue workers. Maybe there was still a chance they could find him.

"I can't believe it!" she cried, walking back to the hut. "I can't believe my first time out and my camp is washed away. I can't believe that he knew better and still put up his tent by mine! Why didn't he go with his own instincts? He knows that he has more experience in the field!"

She opened the door to the hut and switched on the light. She was covered in mud and sobbing so hard, she could hardly see in the blinding light. A shadow stumbled towards her from the darkness. "Charlie?" She prayed it was him.

"Next time," he said, stepping into the light. He was covered with mud and sand. Except for a bright red gash on his forehead. "I'll pick the campsite."

"Charlie!" She yelled his name in a fierce spurt of intense joy. She stepped towards him and he fell down at her feet.

* * *

Charlie remembered getting away from the tent before it was swept down to the beach. He clung to a branch in the ditch then pulled himself out of the current. He remembered something hard hitting him in the head. He'd thought it was a rock or some other piece of debris. After that, he didn't know what had happened to him. He woke up, clean and dry, in a bed in the activity hut at the church. He didn't know how he got there but his head hurt. He glanced around the room. No one else was there. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

When he woke later, Keri was sitting next to him. She was deeply engrossed in studying the diaries and the maps at the same time. They were laid out before her on the tile floor. She was frowning as she pushed her glasses up, muttering words as though they were incantations that would lead them to the site.

He remembered, suddenly, seeing a light come on and staggering towards it. Keri had been standing in the doorway, crying. He reached for her, then he was on the ground at her feet. His last conscious thought was that he was glad that she was safe.

It occurred to him that he cared more about this woman than he would like to admit. She'd led him around by the nose since he'd come to the island, calling the tunes, drawing the lines. Setting up camp in a runoff ditch. He'd followed blindly, still enthralled by that first sight of her when she'd met him on the dock. He wasn't sure if he would ever forget how she looked that night. Or how he'd felt when he'd taken her in his arms. What was it that Jeff had said to him before he'd left Pittsburgh?

"You're awake!"

He blinked. "I think so."

She scooted closer to his bedside. "How do you feel?"

"Outside of a slight headache, not bad. What happened?"

"You pushed me out of the tent. Then the rope snapped and the water dragged you away. I thought you were, well, gone." She swallowed hard, tears misting her eyes. "I found the flashlight and I looked for you all the way down to the beach. I found this yesterday." She pulled up a mangled piece of green nylon that was covered in dirt. Twigs stuck out of the sides. One piece of tent support was jutting out of the top.

"Yesterday?"

She nodded. "It's been three days since it happened. Father Etienne and I took you to the hospital. They x-rayed your head and said that you had a concussion but nothing broken. So, we brought you back here."

Charlie touched the place on his head where he'd felt the rock hit him. There was a bandage there. Any pressure radiated pain to the rest of his head.

"You're lucky to be alive," she told him solemnly.

He looked into her concerned brown eyes and agreed heartily. He was lucky to be alive. And there with her.

"Are you hungry?" Father Etienne had told her not to dwell too long on what had happened until Charlie was completely recovered. It could be bad for him.

"Starved," he admitted, trying to push himself up in the bed.

"Don't try to get up," she cautioned, putting both of her hands on his chest.

He looked at her. She was kneeling beside the bed on the floor. Her touch was making his heart race. "Okay." He leaned back against the pillow. "What did you have in mind?"

Keri made him lunch. Macaroni and cheese. She put a straw in a cup for him to drink his iced green tea. He made a face and she told him that it was spiked with herbs from Father Etienne's garden. "They'll help you get better, faster."

"If they don't kill me first."

After lunch, Keri tidied up the room. Charlie watched her from his vantage point in the bed near the door. She felt his eyes on her as she moved but she didn't complain. She was happy that he was alive. And she was bursting to tell him what she'd learned while he was unconscious. Father Etienne had made her promise she wouldn't talk to Charlie about finding the dauphin until he was on his feet. It wasn't easy.

Charlie made it through most of the afternoon, enjoying being an invalid and letting Keri flutter around him. He could smell her perfume when she held his tea for him. Her eyes were constantly watching him, ready to help at the least sign of need. But he really needed a shower and his face was scratchy with new beard. After being off of his feet for a few days, he was ready to be up and around. What really surprised him was that Keri hadn't mentioned anything about the dig. Was she ready to give up?

"I'm feeling a lot better," he told her, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. "I'd like to take a shower and shave."

Keri looked at his face critically. "You don't look pale. You ate and you're not sick." She sighed. "I suppose you could get up. You don't have any stitches in your head. It was just a bad bruise. I'll be right here if you need me."

Charlie smiled slowly. "Are you going to rush in and save me if I feel dizzy while I'm showering?"

Keri's face turned red. "If you need me." Her eyes were intent and her voice was serious.

Charlie realized that he'd stepped into water that was deeper and more powerful than the current in the runoff ditch. He was attracted to Keri but it was something more. He was drawn to her as they stood together. There was no yesterday. No tomorrow. Only that moment. He was lost in her eyes and he never wanted to find his way back. "Towel," he finally said, taking his towel from her hand. "I'll be careful."

Keri sat on the side of the bed while he was showering. She put her head in her hands. When had it happened? When had she fallen in love with him?

She'd realized it when she dragged him out of the rain. His face was white under the layer of mud and debris. She swept the dirt from his wet face with a careful hand. She'd made him comfortable; then she'd gone for Father Etienne. All the while she'd been praying, chanting in her heart. Please don't let him die. Please don't let him die. I love him. Please don't let him die.

Was it because he'd saved her from her own mistake in the runoff ditch? He'd made sure that she was safe at the cost of his own escape. Was it because he made her smile and made her feel that it didn't matter if she had all the credentials for the dig? Or because she had forgotten the dig and the rest of the world when he'd kissed her?

She didn't know but it scared her. She wasn't experienced enough to hide her feelings for long. He might already see it in her eyes. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. Or feel that he owed her anything once the project was over. Their lives were too different for her to imagine that they could have a future together. Even if he felt the same about her.

Being there on the island with him wasn't like real life. It was like an extended vacation. Or a time warp. She knew when it was over, that he would go back to his life. And she would go back to hers. Their paths would probably never cross again.

So, when he came out of the shower looking a little pale under his deep tan, she tried not to let her concern overwhelm her. He was freshly shaven and his blue eyes were bright in his face. His hair was slicked back from the terrible dark spot on his forehead. His hands were a little shaky on the towel as he dried his neck and chest.

"I think you should sit down now."

"I think that you're right," he agreed without question. His knees felt unsteady and his head hurt again. "I didn't realize a shower would take so much out of me."

All of Keri's need to help surfaced seeing him that way. She took the towel from him and helped him lie back down on the bed. "Father Etienne is going to have my head if I let you get up too soon."

"We just won't tell him."

"Would you like something else to drink?" she asked. "I have medicine for your head if it hurts."

"That's okay," he responded to both offers. "I would like you to sit down and fill me in on anything new."

"Anything new?" She folded the damp towel, trying not to notice that it held his scent.

He frowned. "I'm hurt, not dead, Keri. What about the dig?"

"Father Etienne said it could be bad for you to talk about it."

"I think it could be bad for you if we don't talk about it and you know something new."

Keri laughed. "You're not even strong enough to take a shower without collapsing! How worried could I be about you threatening me?"

Charlie grinned. "I won't always be an invalid, angel. Don't hold back on me, Keri! Did you find something new?"

That was all it took. She was bursting with wanting to tell him anyway. "We definitely have the Captain's name. Abrevoir Mayhew."

He thought it over. "If that's a real name, I'll camp in a runoff ditch again."

She sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed. "The ship, Vardon."

"Green hill?" he suggested.

"The Captain, Abrevoir Mayhew."

He shook his head. "Something about water. Or a place with water, given by God."

"Exactly! So this is what we have," she began, tossing the map on the bed. It settled over his lap. She looked at it doubtfully then sat carefully on the edge of the bed beside him. "Let's say Brier Florent was her real name. There are descendants with the same name. It's a little flowery but not impossible. But the diaries. Suppose the diaries were meant for someone to find? The right someone. Brier says that Louis Charles was laid to rest between the captain and the head conspirator."

"A watering place that was given by God and a sharply pointed place on the island."

"At the base of the ship."

"Vardon, the green hill."

"Yes!"

"So, we go over the entire island with a satellite imaging device?"

"No! We have a better clue." She pulled the map up close so that he could see it and leaned carefully over his shoulder. "I think we were wrong about the church. I think Brier deliberately misled us. You know the bathtub shaped mark on the map?"

He looked at the spot. "What about it?"

"Father Etienne says it has a cross beside it. It's a shrine dedicated to the Holy Mother. It was built at the site of a spring. Until fifty years ago, people came there to be healed. Now, it's all grown up and sort of lost in the forest."

Charlie held his breath. Keri's hair had swung down and was lying against the side of his face. She was so close that it was difficult for him to concentrate on what she was saying to him. "But you think it's here?"

"I do," she replied confidently. "I think we'll find a green hill and a sharply jutting point there."

"That's a lot to ask."

"I know."

"You knew all of this and you waited for me to go?"

Keri looked into his face, wanting to touch her lips to that awful spot on his head and ease his pain. "How could I go without you?"

He moved his head closer to hers and she turned hers just slightly. She saw his eyes close and heard him sigh. She whispered his name and put her lips against his lips.

"Well! I can see you are doing much better!" Father Etienne strode quickly into the room.

Chapter Nine

Keri moved away quickly but the imprint of Charlie's lips burned on her mouth. She looked away as Father Etienne checked Charlie's pulse and looked into his eyes. As many times as she promised herself that it wasn't going to happen again, it happened. They got too close. He kissed her. Or in this case, she kissed him.

It seemed so right. So natural. That was the scary part about it. That was the part that threatened to rip out Keri's heart when she looked at him. She didn't want to love him. She didn't want to love to be with him, love to touch him. But she did.

She wanted to run back to Richmond but she had to finish the dig. She had to find the dauphin. She was just going to have to promise herself again that nothing was going to happen between them. She was going to have to keep her distance. She was going to have to pretend, as she had never pretended before, that Charlie didn't mean anything to her. That when the dig was over, she would go home happy, without him.

"You were talking about the dauphin?" Father Etienne guessed, frowning at Keri and shaking his head.

"I badgered her into it," Charlie said around the thermometer in his mouth.

"I have no doubt of that!"

"I did wait to tell him."

"Until he was barely conscious anyway," Father Etienne accused. He took the thermometer from Charlie's mouth and pronounced him better.

"Good. We can find that spot tomorrow," Charlie said with a smile.

"I said you were out of danger," Father Etienne reminded him. "I did not say you should be hiking out on the island in the heat of midday. I do not want to have to explain that to your family!"

"There's not a lot of time," Charlie told him.

"God will provide," Father Etienne told him. "Be patient and wait for Him. For now, you should rest."

Keri picked up the map from the floor and folded it together as Father Etienne cautioned Charlie on his health. She was going to have to go on without Charlie. She'd known it from the first day after he was hurt. She hated it but there was the dig to consider. The money and the time. And he could still share in whatever she found. He just wouldn't be able to be there.

She decided then that she wasn't going to tell him. It would be better for him not to know until it was over. He might be angry but he wouldn't be tortured by it. And he couldn't argue with her. She didn't know if she was proof against that smile or his persuasive words.

Charlie sighed and sat back against the pillows on the bed. "So, when do you think it would be safe to go out?"

Father Etienne shrugged. "After some of that swelling goes down on that bruise. Maybe another day or two."

"I guess that'll have to do," he relented, glancing at Keri.

"Bien," the priest concluded. "Tomorrow is Sunday. You will come to services and that will help you heal faster, eh?"

Charlie took his hand. "Thanks Father. I appreciate you taking care of me."

Father Etienne balked. "I was only there for them to release you to me because I have had some training in medicine. It was this one." He nodded at Keri. "She took care of you and nursed you around the clock. She fought like a tiger for your survival, my friend." The priest looked between them then took his leave, promising to be back later.

Keri put the map down on the table. "Well, I guess the secret's out," she told him, jokingly to hide her real feelings. "I fed you broth and bandaged your hard head. It was the least I could do since you saved my life."

"Saved your life? If I'd wanted to save anything I would have refused to camp in that ditch."

"You were afraid to leave me with my own stupidity."

He laughed. "But you've learned a valuable lesson."

"Not to camp in ditches?"

"No. That I'm always right."

"Who found the information that's going to lead us to the site?"

"You're good at what you do," he praised her. "I've never seen anyone go through text that quickly. Especially that kind of text. People who lived two hundred years ago obviously didn't know how to tell a story so that their reader didn't go to sleep."

Keri smiled, feeling the warm glow of his praise settle over her. "And you do know your way around a site and mushroom soup. Especially for a banker."

"What will you do when we find the dauphin?"

"I will go to Mr. Grainger and I will demand my own museum funded team," she answered with a small laugh. "What about you?"

"I'll probably fly to Hong Kong for a meeting and close a deal on a new building my Grandfather wants. And I'll take plenty of pictures of whatever we find so that I can look at them in my hotel room between flights."

She looked at him. "If this is really what you want to do, Charlie, why don't you just do it?"

He sighed and looked down at the sheet that was covering his legs. "Because my family needs me to do that job for the bank. I wouldn't let them down again."

Keri understood that sentiment. But she hated the look of unhappiness that crossed his face when she spoke of it.

"But I've decided that I'm going to make my sister become the next president of the bank. She'll just have to rein in her sea captain and they'll have to take their ten kids to live in Pittsburgh."

"They have ten children?"

"Not yet," he answered. "But I wouldn't put it past them."

Charlie drifted off to sleep while they were talking and she realized that he was still recovering. She felt guilty for having told him about the shrine and the spring. He looked so young and helpless lying there on the bed. She pulled up the sheet so that it covered his chest. Her hand almost snaked out to touch a loose curl that had settled near his ear. He was so attractive. The sound of his voice made her heart start pounding. She loved the color of his eyes and the shape of his lips.

Clearly, she was besotted with him. If that was still a word. She remembered reading it once when she was skimming through a text of another diary from the 1800's. The word had stuck with her. She'd looked it up after she'd finished the diary and the project was sent to Mr. Grainger. It meant to stupefy. Or to be infatuated. She felt both stupefied and infatuated when it came to Charlie.

She spent her time getting packed up for the trek into the middle of the island. She glanced frequently in his direction but he didn't wake up until almost dinnertime.

"Sorry," he apologized at once when he realized what had happened. "I guess I am still getting better."

"Or I'm just boring," she remarked. "Having the ability to translate old text isn't the invaluable party skill it might seem."

He laughed. "Really? That's what I do with all my friends."

Keri had to smile in return. "You must not have many then."

Charlie loved to see her smile. She didn't do it often enough. He thought he could make a lifetime out of finding things that would bring her pleasure. He attributed that thought to his head injury. Wasn't he Charlie Eller? I-love-my-job- because-it-means-I-can-never-have-a-serious-relationship-Charlie Eller? Didn't he decide years ago that he didn't want to get married and have children? Just the thought of giving up his forays into the world of archaeology for a nice wife and three kids made him shiver. You wouldn't have to give that up with Keri.

He squashed that tiny voice. He wasn't cut out for married life of any kind, with anyone. Even though Dana's life seemed to be going well, his parent's marriage was a farce. Too much time working, too little time for anything except the right people and the right clubs. He'd grown up knowing his parents barely communicated. He saw more of his butler as a child than he had his own mother!

He watched Keri as she worked on the map and the diary. He wanted her in his life. But Keri wasn't like the other women who'd been in and out of his life. She wouldn't be happy with that existence. She'd want the whole thing. Marriage and a family. Despite his first impression of her, she wasn't the kind of woman he could offer an expensive apartment and tickets to Broadway shows. He closed his eyes. The thoughts chasing around in his brain were making his head hurt.

He must have gone to sleep again because he heard Keri call his name and opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him, smiling hopefully even though there was a faint frown line between her eyes. She was still wearing her glasses and there was a smudge on the side of her nose. He realized then that he loved her. The reality nearly pushed him out of bed. How had it happened to him?

"How about something to eat?" she asked him. "You've been sleeping a lot but you need to eat, too."

"Sounds good," he said in a husky voice. "What's for supper?"

"I only cook two things tolerably well. Macaroni and cheese and omelets."

"So since we had Mac and cheese for lunch--"

"We have omelets for supper," ahe finished with a nod of her head.

"Is that what you eat everyday?"

"Usually I order pizza. Or I eat a sandwich at my desk," she replied. "Why? Do you make gourmet mushroom soup every day?"

He shrugged and pushed himself out of bed. He still felt a little weak but he wouldn't recover his strength lying in bed. "I can cook when I need to. Usually I eat at restaurants. Or on planes."

He sat at the little table near the stove and refrigerator. Keri wished he'd stayed in the bed across the hut because she lost all dexterity when he was that near. It would be terrible spending her life with a man who had that effect on her. Being so aware of another person that you could hardly breathe or eat wasn't an independent way of living.

But the omelets turned out well. She added buttered bread and a few slices of tomato that Father Etienne had given her. She sat across from Charlie at the table and tried to avoid looking directly at him. They talked randomly about the diaries and the dauphin.

There was an air of melancholy between them that had nothing to do with the idea that they might make a momentous discovery and everything to do with knowing it was almost over and they would go their separate ways. The conversation lagged and Keri cleaned up the kitchen area. She didn't want to leave it dirty for him. She knew she would be gone when he woke up in the morning. She reassured herself that he would be fine with Father Etienne looking in a few times. He was nearly well but not nearly enough for the trek to the spring and the dig for the dauphin.

"Where have you been sleeping?" Charlie asked after he had gone back to lie down again.

"Here," she replied quietly. "They brought out a cot for me, too."

"Thanks for taking care of me, Keri. I'm sorry I cost you a few days on the dig."

"I'm just sorry you were hurt," she answered, holding Brier's diary in her hand.

"Read me some of the diary?"

"Read? Out loud?"

"Yeah," he answered. "It'll help me go to sleep."

"Okay." She sighed, pulling a chair up close to his bed. "What shall I read?"

"Read me the part that made you think Brier loved Louis Charles."

"There's not exactly one part," she protested even as she put on her glasses.

"Humor me," he pleaded, just wanting to hear the sound of her voice.

"Okay. There is one passage that I found particularly moving." She glanced at him self-consciously. "Just remember, I'm not a professional narrator."

"He lay asleep, close to the fire. He was shivering and he called out his Maman's name. I huddled close to him and tried to soothe him. He was dressed in rags, he who should have been King of France. Yet if he had been king, then what of me? We would never have met. He would never have known me. He is the sun and the wind to me. I turn my face towards him and his smile shines on me. He is my only dream. My only hope. Without him, I am only barren sand. He holds no power. No gold. Yet he is the treasure of my heart."

Charlie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'd say she cared about him."

Keri took off her glasses and closed the diary. "She loved him. It must have been terrible, all those years, knowing they could come and get him and he would leave her forever. She could never be queen."

Charlie lay back on the bed, his arms under his head. "Thanks. She writes a pretty sentence, non?"

"Oui," Keri agreed with a quick smile. "How'd you learn to speak French so well?"

"My mother was insistent that my sister and I speak at least three languages fluently. My sister speaks five. I was the moron of the family."

"And your sister works for the bank, too?"

"Yeah. She got married last year and had a baby so she's slowed down some. My parents are appalled that she doesn't have a nanny and takes care of the baby herself. But she loves her ship's captain too much to be gone from him too long anyway."

"That kind of love, like your sister and Brier Florent." Keri edged into the conversation. "It doesn't come very often."

"Not in my lifetime," Charlie said, although he knew that he was lying. It was staring him in the face at that moment. He shouldn't have made fun of Jeff and Dana when they talked about their relationship. He should have paid more attention to those seagoing metaphors about falling in love. He had been so sure it wouldn't happen to him.

"Mine either," she replied quickly, not wanting him to see the lie in her face. "Who'd want to be tied to something like that anyway? It's too hard to be a serious archaeologist with a family and other things holding you down."

"Yeah. I wouldn't want to drag a family around after me. And what woman would understand it?"

Keri laughed bitterly. "Or what man?"

It wasn't late but it was dark and the conversation had become too difficult for either of them. Keri pulled out her cot and switched off the light. They both lay still in the darkness, listening to the sounds outside the hut.

"Charlie? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah."

"What's it like?"

"Hmm?"

"Going on digs all over the world. Is it wonderful enough that it can take up your whole life and you don't care if you fall in love or not?"

"I've known men and women who didn't think about anything else. They live for each new site. No families. Nobody tying them down."

Keri sighed. It was what he longed for. She understood. It was what she'd longed for until she met him.

"Keri?"

"Yes?"

"I think it might be possible to have both."

"Really?"

"Really. If both people were willing to work at it."

Keri felt her heart twist painfully in her chest. "I don't think I know anyone who'd be willing to try. Good night, Charlie."

"Good night, Keri."

* * *

Keri quietly packed together her gear and tiptoed out of the activity hut. It was too dark to see Charlie sleeping on the cot near the door. It was all she could do not to cry. She knew she'd be back but she didn't want to leave him behind. There just wasn't time, she reminded herself sternly. The wet weather was coming and she had to get back to work. This was her only chance. She couldn't let her feelings for Charlie, feelings that would never be returned, stand in her way.

She closed the door behind her, picked up her knapsack and took out her compass. She started walking toward the east. The sun wasn't rising yet. The day was barely gray with anticipation of it. Mist cloaked the trees and swirled through the underbrush. A single owl called from a perch near the church.

"Is this the way to the shrine?" Charlie asked, moving out of the shadows.

Keri tripped and would have fallen. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Going somewhere?"

She frowned. "You know I don't have any choice. The permits will run out. I have to go back to Richmond. It has to be now."

He let go of her arm. "And you were going to sneak away. Again. After you told me you wouldn't do it."

"I didn't want you to be miserable. I thought it was best this way."

"Best for who?"

"For both of us," she argued. "Look, I don't want to go without you but I don't want to go back empty handed either. Father Etienne says you aren't well enough for this. What else could I do?"

"You could have said goodbye," he retorted. "You could have told me what you were up to."

"So we could argue like this? I didn't think that sounded very healthy for you."

"You just didn't want to face me with it," he accused. "It's easier for you to sneak away from a situation than to face it, Keri. That's why you've hidden behind your assistant curator's job all this time. It's easier than facing the problem and handling it outright."

"I'm trying to do that."

He shook his head. "You're sneaking around Mr. Grainger the same way. You should have had enough faith in yourself to tell him the truth."

Keri glared at him then started to walk away. "You shouldn't be up. I'm going now, Charlie. I'll be back when I can."

He started after her. "Not without me."

She stopped and stared at him. "You aren't well enough."

"I'll handle it. It's not the first time I've ever been injured."

"You can't," she told him outright.

"You can't stop me," he said clearly.

She looked at him. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His knapsack was slung across his shoulder. He looked angry. She knew there was no way she was going to convince him to stay. There wouldn't be anyway he could have convinced her to stay. If he could crawl to the site, she'd be right behind him.

"Fine," she relented, starting to walk in the lead again. "But don't yell for me when you fall down."

"I won't, princess," he retorted sharply. "Just make sure you can follow that compass. The E part means east."

Keri didn't bother to reply to that statement. She trudged along, following the compass and the growing sunrise as the morning progressed. The forest came alive around them as the sky turned lighter. Her mind burned on everything Charlie had said to her. None of it was true. She wasn't sneaking anywhere. She was doing what she thought was best for him. She'd wanted to protect him from hurting himself.

She certainly wasn't sneaking around from Mr. Grainger. There was just no point in confronting him with what she was doing until she had something in her hands to show him. She just needed some hard evidence that the dauphin had lived on the island. Then she could confront him. She could show him that she was a good archaeologist and she deserved a group of her own.

Those other times in town, she wasn't sure she could trust Charlie. He wouldn't understand that but she knew it wasn't because she was afraid to confront anyone. She wasn't sneaking around. She wasn't leaving him behind because it was easier than being there with him. She didn't want to explain that emotion to him or herself.

Her tongue felt a little thick and numb. She'd realized that her pills had been lost the first day but she didn't know what else to do. She didn't want to give up on the dig. She'd gone without them before and nothing had happened. She was going to hope it would be all right then. After making a big deal over going without him, she didn't want to explain to Charlie that they would have to wait for her to find medication. That would also mean explaining her weakness to him. She didn't want to see the look on his face when she said those words.

The island was long but not very wide. The difficult part was going to be finding the spot where the old shrine and spring were located in the overgrown forest. Keri had coordinated the site on the map and she was hoping the natural guideposts would still be intact for conformation. She had coordinated many excavations in that way and they had been successful. She could only hope hers would be the same.

Charlie walked behind her. He'd known last night that she was leaving him there to go out to the site. He wouldn't have felt so bad if she would have told him. But he'd seen it in her eyes when she looked at him. It was hard to believe he already knew her that well. He could see the plans formulating behind those woodsy brown eyes. Even with her glasses on, she was easy to read.

What wasn't so easy to understand was why she felt like she had to leave him without explanation. She'd promised not to do it again. Obviously, confrontation wasn't her strong point. But he'd hoped that she had greater feelings for him than for Mr. Grainger. He'd hoped that she felt that she could trust him. Apparently he'd been wrong. It hurt more than he would have imagined.

He put it behind him and kept pace with her as the morning grew warm and the air turned sultry. Once they found the dauphin, he wouldn't have to worry about it. She wouldn't be sneaking around him anymore. It wasn't a pleasant thought, no matter how much he tried to justify it. He felt like he knew her little tricks and turns. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She wouldn't fool him again. Only one part of him wished he'd had time to learn more about her: the part that surrounded his aching heart.

Keri glanced back once and Charlie smiled. She might talk a tough game but she was still worried about him. "I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "I wouldn't have come out if I didn't think I could stand the pace. I know the dig has to go on. I was surprised you waited this long. And grateful."

Her pace slowed a little and her back wasn't as rigid. Her head ached. "I-I just didn't want you to get worse."

"I know," he answered. "I'm sorry I said those things to you."

"You were right," she admitted, not looking back at him. "I am lousy at confrontation. Otherwise I would already be an archaeologist. I wouldn't be trying to prove myself to Mr. Grainger."

"Does Mr. Grainger have a first name?"

She smiled back at him. "Stewart."

"Stewart Grainger?" he queried with a laugh.

"Apparently his mother was a movie buff."

"Just think, Keri," he imaged for her. "Stewart probably wanted to be a field archaeologist at some point, too. I don't think anyone starts out to be the curator. He never had the guts to do anything about it."

"Or he just wasn't sneaky enough."

"Sneaky," he quipped. "But smart and sexy."

"Mr. Grainger?"

"And a smart mouth. Did I mention you have a smart mouth, darling?"

"Have I mentioned that your casual use of meaningless endearments is against museum policy?"

Charlie tugged her arm and turned her around in her tracks. He drew her against him and kissed her mouth. "Darling," he repeated. "Angel." He kissed her again. "Petite amie. I'm tired of pretending that my endearments are meaningless."

Her arms slid up around his neck. Keri kissed him back for all she was worth. There might never be a time for them. This was all they had to give each other. "Let's not promise each other things. Let's just be together now." Her words sounded slow and slurred to her. Oh God, no!

Charlie looked down at her and wondered if it was possible to be happier than he was at that moment. He wanted to hold her there forever. They would never find the dauphin because that would end it all. He didn't care. Right there, in the forest, being together, was what mattered. "Keri, do we have to wait until we're about to be overtaken by a life or death situation for you to kiss me?"

"Charlie," she whispered, her hand smoothing back the curl near his ear that she had wanted to touch. "It's all I've dreamed about."

She kissed him, her lips trembling against his. Gear and diaries fell to the forest floor around them, unheeded. They sank down in the deeply shaded green moss and leaves, mouths fused, arms entwined, legs tangled as they struggled to get closer. Keri ran her hand across his chest and felt the heat build between them.

Charlie kissed her neck and her shoulder as her tank top slid slowly to the side. The curve of her breast beckoned deliciously and his mouth sank to it. He groaned when her tongue tickled his ear and Keri drew in a sharp breath as his mouth found her softly budding breast and brought it to erect fullness with his lips and his tongue.

"Bien! I have found you at last." Father Etienne came on them from behind a large, spreading azalea bush. "I was afraid I would not find you in time and--" He stopped abruptly, taking in the scene before him.

Charlie fastened his jeans and pulled down his t-shirt.

"It seems I have found you just in time!" the old priest decided. "The church frowns on these things before marriage, my children."

"I'm-uh-not Catholic," Charlie said quickly. He looked down at Keri. She wasn't moving. "Keri?"

She heard him but she couldn't answer. Tears squeezed from her eyes as her body began to jerk abruptly. She couldn't control the spasms in her arms and legs.

"Dieu! She is having a seizure!" Father Etienne cried out. He dropped to her side and pressed a wooden crucifix between her teeth. "We can only keep her from injuring herself."

"A seizure?! Oh, dear God!" Charlie began to panic as he knelt beside her.

"Try to stay calm, my son. It may be random or a symptom of something else. Or she may be epileptic. She did not say?"

"No." Charlie stared at her. Her terrible body movements made him want to scream.

"It will be over soon." Father Etienne smoothed his hand over Keri's contorted brow. He closed his eyes and prayed for her.

* * *

Keri knew what it meant when she felt that awful, blank emptiness. It had been two years since her last seizure but it was something she'd lived with all of her life. When she wasn't having a seizure she was afraid she would have a seizure. It ruled her childhood. Everyone helped to remind her that she was a freak of nature. At any moment, she could fall on the ground in a helpless heap. She couldn't ever get too upset or too happy or too excited. She couldn't play sports or go to parties. She couldn't fall in love because she'd have to tell that man that she was epileptic.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips that tasted like blood. She'd either bitten her tongue or her mouth somewhere. She was still lying on the ground and looked to the side to see Charlie sitting against a tree. Keri would have given anything to be able to creep away, not to have to see his face. She pushed herself up carefully.

Charlie jumped up and came to her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Just tired. Where's Father Etienne?"

He touched her wrist "As soon as it stopped, he found your medical bracelet and knew that you were epileptic. He went to get your prescription refilled. You lost it the night of the flood, didn't you?"

"Yes." Her whole body was still sluggish and sore but it was nothing compared to the embarrassment of having to explain this to him.

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you get help?"

"You were hurt." She forced the words past her lips. "I don't know. Could I have some water?"

He was on his feet right away and brought back a water bottle. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Keri smiled slowly. "When? And what would I have said? What do you think you would've said to me? Mr. Grainger knows and he's held it against me. I don't expect you to be any different."

Charlie sat down beside her. "Maybe it's for the best, Keri. Maybe you shouldn't be out here. You could hurt yourself or--"

"Leave me alone," she said with a sob. "I-I have to sleep now." Keri curled into a tight ball of misery, not looking at him. She cried herself to sleep. What had she expected? That Charlie would be different than anyone else in her life?

It was past midnight when Father Etienne returned, lantern in hand. He woke Keri to give her medication. She took the pill eagerly with a mouthful of water.

"You should have told someone." He sat beside her on the warm, wet ground.

"I didn't want him to know," she whispered. "I wanted this time to be different."

"It could have cost your life, little one."

"I just wanted to have a life for a change, Father. All of my life, people have told me that I couldn't do this or shouldn't do that. For once, I just wanted to be Keri, not epileptic Keri."

He sighed. "At least you wore the bracelet with your condition and medication on it. What will you do now?"

"Go home. What else can I do?"

"You can continue on your quest."

"Charlie will never look at me again the same way. I'll be an encumbrance now. He'll be waiting for me to fall on the ground and have a seizure. There's no point in me staying."

"Perhaps you do not give him enough credit," Father Etienne suggested.

"I know, Father. I've lived with it. I know that look."

The old priest whispered a small prayer for her then he said, "I came to help you find the old spring. Years ago, when I was a child, I came here. It had been abandoned already for many years. But I seem to recall its general vicinity and I thought I might lend a hand. I, too, would love to find the dauphin and prove that my old friend, Armand, was the successor to the throne."

"I'm sure Charlie will be glad to have your help." Her voice ended on a sob.

"Go to sleep. Perhaps the sun will help things look better, hmm?"

Charlie waited but didn't hear her say anything else. Her words had broken his heart. The priest sat by her through the night while Charlie watched the sky turn light in the early morning. At dawn, he started a small fire and started making breakfast.

The smell of it woke Keri. She was starving. She wanted to go down to the clearing where she could see Charlie by the fire but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Only another day or two might have seen them find the gravesite. She might have found a major historical site.

She didn't kid herself that she and Charlie would ever have had anything together. She would have always known that this moment was in their future. But she might have had that moment when they'd found the dauphin. That would have been enough for her.

Charlie walked up the hill towards her. "Are you awake, Keri?"

She pretended to be asleep and didn't answer. Inside, she was cringing at talking to him again.

He crouched down beside her. "I'm making breakfast. Father Etienne already has coffee on. We're leaving when we're done. Are you going to give up now?"

She turned to face him but didn't get up. "I'm going back."

"Suit yourself. But I didn't think you were such a quitter."

Keri's face was livid. "I'm not going with you after yesterday. I don't want you to think you have to take care of me and watch me so I don't fall down. You won't let me do anything now and--"

"Fine." He stood up. "If that's what it takes. You can do all the dishes from here on. You hike with all the supplies and take the machete to chop brush. Will that be enough for you or do you need more?"

She sniffed and sat up slowly. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you've cost us a whole day but I was worse. I cost us three days. This is your dig, remember?"

"But the epilepsy--"

He held out his hand to silence her. "I have a friend who's epileptic who climbed Mount Everest. Unless you're afraid you can't make it, I think you can manage a trek through the woods."

Keri stared at him in disbelief. "I can make it."

"Good. Prove that by getting up. I'll save some breakfast for you."

She washed up in a stream close to where they were camping. Except for her sore body, she was all right. She couldn't believe Charlie still wanted her to come with them. She put her pills into her pocket. They wouldn't get away from her again.

After changing clothes, she walked to where Charlie and Father Etienne were drinking coffee and talking. She still felt a little embarrassed and wary of their eyes but she managed to get her own breakfast and pour herself a cup of coffee.

Charlie told the priest, "We can use all the help we can get, Father."

"In more ways than one, my son! I also thought about you being out here after your injury. The two of you need a guiding hand, eh?"

Keri looked at Charlie and shrugged. She bent and picked up her gear. "I'm ready when you are."

Charlie picked up the compass but let her take the lead. "I'll read the map and leave the dangerous, life threatening stuff to you."

"Charlie--"

"I wouldn't want you to think I care too much about what happens to you."

"I couldn't tell you," she offered as Father Etienne left them alone. "I just couldn't."

"Why? Do I seem like someone who would be blindly prejudiced?"

"No, but--"

"What you did was stupid and risky. You could've been hurt. I deserved to know the truth." His tone was harsh.

"I know. I was...embarrassed."

He nodded. "I understand. It's still your dig but you need to tell me now if there's anything else I should know."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Sleep walking?"

"No."

He took a step towards her. "Lycanthropy?"

She shivered as he put his hands on her arms. "No."

"We already know about your tendency to camp in runoff ditches." He put his arms around her and held her tightly to him. "I was just scared, Keri. Now that I know, we can deal with it. I swear I won't try to protect you. You're the first one over any hundred foot cliffs we find."

Keri laughed. "I hate you."

"I hate you too, darling," he cooed. "Now if you can keep your hands off of me for a few minutes, maybe we can find this shrine."

She groaned and tossed a handful of leaves at him. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel awkward and stupid.

They stopped briefly for lunch when the sun was high in the sky overhead. They sat close together and looked at the map while they ate, pointing out different features they had passed. The day had turned hot and it was only noon. The afternoon promised to be steamy.

"This is like being in the jungle," Charlie said as they packed up to go.

"Oh no! Not another boring archaeology story."

"It beats hearing about Stewart Grainger," he said, starting off out of the clearing.

Keri smiled. "I had a crush on him to begin with."

"Really? Who would have guessed since he talked you out of finishing college."

"He's tall and very British," she explained. "I've always had a thing for accents."

"It probably comes from watching too many spy movies," he told her. "It must be what makes you so sneaky."

"Yeah, well you snore," she replied pertly.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. I had to wear ear plugs to sleep."

"If we find this fountain," he promised her. "I'm going to throw you in it."

Charlie was close enough for her to whisper, "Only if you jump in after!"

He touched her arm. "The priest has to sleep sometime!"

The terrain of the island steadily began to get rougher. There were more hills and the trees grew thicker. Underbrush swatted at their legs. They stopped to apply mosquito repellent to bare legs and arms.

Keri took out her water bottle and wiped perspiration from her forehead. She didn't know how long it would take to search the island. She wasn't even sure the shrine or the spring existed anymore. The map was old and even though Father Etienne recalled seeing it as a child, they might never find it.

"Look!" Charlie got her attention by touching her arm. "What do you see?"

Keri shook her head without looking up. "Lots of trees?"

"Look!" he urged her again. This time, he put his hands on her face. "Look!"

"That is the way," Father Etienne declared with passion in his voice.

There was a path. It wasn't much more than a rut but it was a distinguishable rut through the trees and up a grassy hill. There were still stones lining the path that had once been there.

"Vardon," Charlie said, following the path with his eyes.

Chapter Ten

"Vardon!" The priest agreed with tears in his eyes. "We shall find this, my children! God has declared it so!"

Keri capped her water bottle and was on her feet in an instant. Excitement and dread mingled in the pit of her stomach. "I don't know about that but I feel like I'm going to be sick," she admitted to Charlie.

"That comes with all great discoveries," Charlie answered. "When Lord Carnarvon discovered Rameses' tomb, he was sick for weeks."

"He died," she reminded him.

Charlie shrugged. "It was a big discovery."

"Do we go?" the priest asked them.

"Right now, Father?" Keri said.

"I apologize for my impatience," Father Etienne said, "but the thrill of it is my undoing!"

Charlie smiled and clapped the priest on the back. "Don't worry about it, Father. I think we're all feeling a little undone."

They followed the path to the top of the hill. The ground rolled out gently beneath it. Grass grew, green and thick, along the hillside, and flowed out into the valley. They walked down that hill and up another. The scent of the foliage and the newly emerging spring flowers was overpowering. Dark clouds began to obscure the sun, another storm coming from the sea.

When they reached the top of the second hill, Keri paused to catch her breath and take her boundaries. "Charlie," Keri exclaimed, pointing into the distance. "Look!"

He followed her gaze and saw it. A pile of huge rocks jutting out from the ground, like a finger pointing into the air.

"Lyle Montague?" she whispered in awe.

"He's a little petrified."

They raced down into the valley, towards the rocks. There were top-heavy magnolias and huge old growth oaks that almost blocked out the sun, yet the valley was green and alive. Brush grew heavily around the base of the rocky promontory. Charlie took out a machete and hacked at it.

Keri turned away from the rocky finger and looked back towards the green hill. The whole area was deeply shaded. Only one spot was open to heavy sunlight. There was an almost circular spot where the grass grew more thick and green in the heart of the tiny valley. She walked to it with a pounding heart and trembling hands. Father Etienne, looking like a man in a trance, joined her. Together, they started pulling at the grass with their hands.

"This shrine was built by an early traveler who knew how important fresh water was on the trek across the island," Father Etienne told her. "He was a priest who also knew what a gift it was to find pure and abundant water in such a remote place. He took the time to pile rocks around the small shallow pool that never became stagnant. It was marked on all the early maps. Later, it was forgotten, as such things happen."

"I suppose people didn't need the fresh water anymore."

"Indeed! It would have been forgotten completely but in the years following, a stonemason drank from it and believed that its waters had cured him of the gout. He returned to build a three-foot high wall that ran in a protective semi-circle around the pool. He used pieces of milky quartz for accent and pink and green stones for color."

They pulled at the thick grass. Keri felt so sure they were in the right spot. Fingers of sunlight touched their heads as they worked. She looked up for Charlie. He was still hacking away at the base of the stone.

"Another priest, coming upon the stonemason's handiwork, blessed the pool and the tiny shrine and offered it to the Blessed Mother for her work on earth. He blessed the land surrounding it, believing that the deep green grass and life giving water should be protected and marked for all time. The shrine was popular and used by many travelers. The sick and infirm visited it to drink of its healing waters. Then years passed and the shrine was forgotten again as the island became more populated and the islanders built roads."

"Is that why you came here as a child? Were you ill?"

"Yes," Father Etienne told her. "I had polio. I couldn't walk. My mother brought me here. She carried me the entire way from town. She believed so strongly that the water would heal me. She promised God that she would dedicate my life to him if he would heal me."

Keri looked at him in amazement. "So, it worked and you became a priest?"

"We spent the night here and I can still remember the vivid dreams I had that night. The next morning, without thinking, I stood up and walked to the shrine for a drink of water. I knew after that what God required of me and I have given it gladly."

"Wow! No wonder you thought you could remember where it was."

"It was an experience burned into my mind. Perhaps it would work for you, too, little one. Perhaps it would heal you of your affliction."

Keri and Father Etienne continued to pull at the grass that had overgrown the pool of water. It was about ten feet around. Charlie noticed what they were doing and put away the map. He joined them, attacking the higher grass with the machete until the shrine began to be revealed.

Water still flowed from the spring that the stonemason had cleverly built into part of the protective wall. The pink and green stones were still in place although some of the edges were crumbling. It took them the rest of the afternoon to clear away the edges of the water and find the entire circle. The setting sun winked off the crystal quartz. The pool was deep and fresh as though it were still waiting to be found again.

Charlie tasted it. "Mineral water."

"No wonder they said it cured what was wrong with them." Keri didn't have much faith in miracle cures but she closed her eyes for a moment and took a drink of the water. What could it hurt? It was a little salty and thick on her tongue but she swallowed it with a hopeful heart.

"I wonder how deep it is?" Charlie asked, sticking his machete down into the clear depths. The water level was slightly higher than the three-foot machete. He looked around them. "I think we should set up camp here tonight. We can go back over the information. It's going to be too dark to look for landmarks or start digging."

Keri agreed. "We can get a fresh start tomorrow." Her arms and shoulders were already aching from the time they'd put in clearing the shrine.

"I would like time to bless this shrine and deconsecrate it to God," Father Etienne told them. "I will make certain it is not forgotten again. There are many who believe in such things again, who are looking for God-made miracles. This can be a place of holiness and hope again."

Keri and Charlie left the priest kneeling at the edge of the pool. They set up their tents and brought out some of the food Charlie had bought in town.

"There's still Spaghettio's and ravioli left," Charlie told her.

Keri made a face. "That's better than dried food?"

"Anything is better than dried food."

Keri shrugged and took the ravioli. They heated the food on the small Sterno cooker they'd brought with them. Charlie took out sodas for each. Then they sat beside each other on a fallen log while the food cooked. Above them, the flaming pink and orange sunset turned to midnight blue. The stars began to show themselves in the heavens. The wind whispered gently in the trees.

"It's kind of romantic here," Charlie said softly. "The breeze and the stars and the sound of the ocean."

"Not to mention the priest praying over the pool," Keri agreed sarcastically.

"Not all things are perfect, cherie. We must take them as we find them and be glad of their blessings."

Keri looked into his eyes with a smile in her own. She was going to miss him. Though he had only been in her life a short time, she was going to miss him when they parted. "What other language do you know?"

"What?"

"You said you know three languages. What other language do you know?"

He laughed and took a sip from the cola can in his hand. "Latin."

"Latin?" she laughed. "Is that what your mother had in mind?"

"No, but at the time, I planned to become a monk so it sounded useful."

Keri wrinkled her nose. "You? A monk?"

"Why does that sound so hard to believe?"

"You just don't strike me as the monkish type!"

He leaned in close to her. "What type do I strike you as?"

She studied him intently, putting one hand on his face. "The kind who likes women and enjoys their company."

Charlie frowned. He didn't like the way she sounded. "There's only one woman whose company I'd like to enjoy right now."

"Brier Florent?" she asked quickly, taking out the old diary.

"I think you know the answer to that," he replied, taking her in his arms. He kissed her gently.

Keri closed her eyes and let the feelings he inspired in her float around and through her. She could've ignored the priest praying if she thought they had any future together or she could survive them being together with her heart intact. As it was, his kisses were bittersweet with the awareness that it would all be over with shortly. She wished the new Keri would take over again for a while but the old Keri persisted in nagging her conscience.

"What's wrong?" He touched her hair.

"I've never been very good at living for the moment," she admitted. "I guess that's why I'm a history buff."

"This doesn't have to be a fling for either of us," Charlie told her, his eyes intent in the lantern light.

Keri smiled. "We both know that it wouldn't work out, Charlie. Even if we find the dauphin, our lives will still follow separate paths."

Charlie didn't want to think about how many similar conversations he'd had with women in the past few years. This was different for him but he understood that it wasn't for Keri. She was at the beginning of this new and exciting place in her life. She didn't want it complicated by a man and a relationship. He understood, but the bitterness of what was left for him without her made him feel hollow. For the first time in his life, he wanted more than just a few nights with a woman. It just happened that she wanted something more attractive than what he offered.

"Well, then, I guess we go for the ravioli and the Spaghettios," he quipped, determined not to make the moment harder with his own dark emotions.

Keri continued to smile but the ravioli on her plate looked unappetizing. Her heart felt like it was a cold, hard lump in her chest. Only determination not to go home with nothing to show for her effort kept her there. She'd never felt about any man the way she felt about Charlie. It was clear that he didn't feel the same way about her.

How could he? She debated, pushing the ravioli around on her plate. She was just an ordinary kind of person and epileptic. Probably nothing like the women he'd known traveling around the world. He was from a wealthy family. She had no family at all. It was depressing.

"Have you decided not to eat those ravioli?" Father Etienne asked hopefully.

"I'm not really hungry," she said, giving him the plate.

He accepted gratefully and blessed the food. "I didn't have time to pack anything to eat. I was afraid I'd miss you." He began to scoop up the ravioli.

Keri glanced toward the dark ridge that Charlie had gone to scout. There was no way he could see anything in the dark. He'd just done it to get away from the somber turn their moods had taken.

"He cares for you, you know," Father Etienne told her briefly.

"How can you tell?"

"I can see it in his eyes. When he looks at you, it is as though you are the only woman in the world. This is how it should be, non?"

"We barely know each other," she replied darkly. "And when this is over, we have no future."

Father Etienne looked into her face and smiled. "Since when does that matter? Love cares nothing for such impediments."

"I don't think we're in love," she remarked, wishing he would drop the subject.

"Non? Tell me, Keri, how many men have you been in love with in your young life? How many men have you trusted with the secrets of your heart and your ailment?"

"I've never--"

"Then you must accept from me that I can see the love between you!"

Keri was unimpressed. "Father, excuse me, but how many women have you been in love with?"

"Only one," he answered, wiping his lips with a napkin. "She was the love of my life. We were both from this island. We were young and we were in love. She was killed during a hurricane. I knew when she was gone that there was no reason for me to look for another love. There would never be another like her."

"So there was a time that you weren't going to dedicate your life to God?"

"God challenged me," he replied quietly. "But the answer was not to be found with Hilde. I am content that it is so." He smiled at her. "But I will never forget her."

"We're so different, though, Father. Different backgrounds. Different goals for the future."

"Could you be more different than Brier Florent and her dauphin? Yet they were in love and loved for many years. Their legacy still remains." He took a drink of his soda. "Go to him, Keri. Perhaps he is feeling the same, non?"

"Oui," she said shyly. She got up from the tree trunk and brushed dirt from her jeans. "Merci, Father."

"Bless you, child."

There was no moon. The night was dark with the clouds moving up from the sea. By morning, she guessed, it would be raining. The island was small, though, and the lights from town created a dim orange glow that silhouetted Charlie against the empty hilltop. Keri thought that he looked as forlorn as she felt that night. She didn't doubt that Father Etienne had seen many things during his life. It struck her that the biggest difference between her and Charlie was that she'd spent so much time with her books while he'd been out actually living life. It was part of how she'd been trapped into her assistant curator's job. Her childhood had taught her to fear life and what could happen to her if she lived too much.

"Nice view," she said, joining him. The evergreens and mint were fragrant around them.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I had it brought in for the night."

Keri hugged her knees to her chest. Charlie was sitting with his back against an old tree.

"I think it might rain by morning."

"I think you might be right."

"I'm not very good at this--"

"Weather prediction?"

"No." She frowned at his sarcasm. "Telling someone how I feel."

"Keri, you don't have to--"

"I want to. I care a lot about you, Charlie. I know we haven't known each other very long but--"

"Keri, please--"

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, but--"

"Keri, I don't have any right to feel any way at all," he muttered. "I'm just here because mmpphh-"

Keri pushed herself against him and covered his mouth with hers. "I love you, Charlie. I don't know how or when it happened, but mmpphh-"

"Shut up and kiss me." He brought her closer to him. "I love you, Keri. I didn't think it could happen to me. I didn't think I'd know it if it came up and shoved me down a hill. But I love you."

Cradled on his lap, the scent of the trees and the flowers around her, Keri lost herself in his touch. She could hear his heart beating beneath her ear. His fingers glided through her hair. He caressed her with such gentleness that she thought her heart would burst. She loved this man and he loved her. Like Brier Florent and the dauphin, it was something that was meant to be. Despite their differences, they would find a way to be together.

"I think I knew I loved you the moment I met you," Charlie told her. "When I looked up from the ground and saw you standing over me."

Keri laughed as his lips tickled her neck. "I guess I was slow. I realized it when I saw you after you'd been hurt."

"You were in denial."

"Probably. It wasn't something I meant to happen."

"I won't ruin your career track," he promised.

"But how can it work between us, Charlie?"

"One step at a time," he said carefully. "I don't have all the answers, Keri. I just know that we should be together. That's enough for right now."

She had to agree. She didn't have the heart or energy to do anything else. They stayed on the hill together, talking and reveling in the touch and feel of one another. Around midnight, the rain finally started. It was a gentle spring rain rather than the raging torrent of the runoff ditch. They were still wet by the time they ran back down the hill to the tents.

Finding Father Etienne resting comfortably in Charlie's tent, they went into Keri's tent. They didn't bother to light a lantern. There was a blanket spread across the tent floor. There wasn't enough room to stand but there was enough room to kneel. Like penitents, they fell to their knees. Warm kisses became hot and sweet. Rain dampened clothes were pushed aside and finally thrown away as the rain danced on the tent.

Like the first night they were together, the miracle of their love and their joy in one another amazed them both. Charlie whispered inanities in Keri's ear and she giggled then groaned as he touched her.

"You are so sweet," he told her with a smile on his face. "I love the way you taste and the way you laugh."

"I love the way you kiss," she replied, not cold anymore with his warmth beside her. "And the way you make me feel."

"I love you, Keri," he said, kissing her as he joined their bodies. "I want to make love to you every night."

"Ohh, I want you...to...ahh, Charlie."

Their words became incoherent and jumbled as the rain continued and the storm within the tent raged between them. Nothing mattered but that they were together and in love. Passion flared, then slowly descended. The rain continued and they slept in each other's arms.

Cuddled close, Keri felt the first stirring of Charlie's nightmare. She woke him with a kiss and held him close while he woke up. "What were you dreaming?"

"I was dreaming about the water in the ditch but you were the one who was swept away and I couldn't find you." He held her closer.

"Father Etienne said he had strange dreams camped by the shrine."

"Did you dream?" he asked slowly, trying to separate the terrible dream from the reality of her being there in his arms. He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her ear.

"I dreamed that I found a golden city and there was a shower of gold coins. You were there, too," she lied. In her dream, she had been alone.

"It's stopped raining anyway." Charlie was still shaken by the strong emotions in his dream. He ran his free hand through his clothes and found his watch. "It's almost five."

Keri, snuggled close to him, her head under his chin was suddenly afraid that the dreams had been prophetic. "Let's not get up yet."

"It will be light in less than an hour," he said, drawing her back close against his heart. "We'll probably find the dauphin today, if he's there to find."

"I know."

"Keri?"

"It's nothing," she said quietly.

"Good morning, children," Father Etienne's voice came through the tent to them. "God willing, we may find the dauphin this very day."

"Are you all right?" Charlie asked her.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, conscious of Father Etienne whistling as he made coffee on the Sterno. "I just need some dry clothes."

They dressed silently, rooting out dry clothes from their backpacks. They kissed and clung and kissed again before they left the tent. Keri re-buttoned one of Charlie's shirt buttons and Charlie pushed in the tag at the back of Keri's t- shirt.

"Whatever happens, I love you, Keri," he told her as they climbed out of the tent.

"I love you, too," she returned. "Whatever happens."

"Good morning!" Father Etienne greeted them with no censure or reprisal in his dark eyes. "It is the day God has made for us. By his grace, we will prevail."

The morning was still misty. The rain clung to the trees and shrubs around them. The ground was even muddier with the rain. Some of the mud had washed back into the pool. Father Etienne frowned but quickly scooped it out.

"I will have to send someone to rebuild this wall," he told them. "The shrine must be protected and defined so that it is not lost again."

"This is consecrated ground," Keri said, quietly looking around them. "The Abrevoir Mayhew. There's the ship, Vardon. And the man who saved the prince, Lyle Montague. Now, where is the dauphin?"

They searched together using the shrine as the center of an ever-widening circle. The valley wasn't large and the area between the hill and the rocky finger wasn't more than a few hundred yards.

Charlie had a portable metal detector that he used to scan the ground as he walked along between the points. Keri used her folded camp shovel to dig in the ground every few yards. The dirt was loose and wet so it was easy to dig. They scanned the earth closely, not missing an inch. All of their senses were alive to everything around them. Father Etienne drew maps of the area and calculated where the priest would have ended his consecration of the ground around the shrine.

Keri looked up slowly as the first flower appeared on the ground near her foot. There was a spot, about five feet wide, that was overgrown with tall purple flowers. Their scent was sweet in the heavy, warm air of the valley. "Charlie?"

He couldn't hear her with the earphones from the metal detector but he saw her move into the field of flowers. He stopped and stared at her. "Brier Florent?"

"I-I don't understand," she replied, feeling close to tears.

Charlie moved to the field of flowers and scanned the ground at her feet. The metal detector began to beep right away. "He's here!" He threw down the detector and took out his collapsible shovel. "Father Etienne!"

"I know," Keri said softly.

The priest joined them with the one thing he had brought with him, a shovel. They marked off an area and began to carefully clear the topsoil. Keri insisted that they dig up the heather to be replanted before they started searching deeper in the ground. They took up the plants in large clumps and set them to the side. Then they began to dig in earnest. None of them noticed as the sun progressed higher in the sky. They had cleared an area roughly ten meters by ten meters. Dirt and sweat marked their faces and their clothes.

They all sat down by the sides of the open black dirt and shared a bottle of water. The mineral water in the pool might be beneficial but it tasted like dirt and plants. Their supply of bottled water was low. Father Etienne volunteered to walk back to town and purchase more if they ran out. None of them could think about food.

There were French gold coins in the first foot of earth. Keri methodically took out her notebook and accounted for each piece. She took out a plastic sheet and spread it out on the ground to place whatever they found. Father Etienne lovingly looked at each piece then set it on the plastic.

"May I clean them?" he asked in a deeply reverent voice.

"No, not yet," Keri cautioned. "Take one and clean it off with this cloth just enough to verify the date. The rest of the dirt and corrosion stay until they can be properly cleaned."

"They are gold Louis'," the priest declared a short while later. "The date is difficult - ahh! The year of our Lord, 1782. This is it!"

Charlie and Keri exchanged places digging in the damp soil. They kissed as they passed one another, their eyes glowing.

At about seven, they couldn't see anymore. Charlie took out the flashlights. They laid them so that they illuminated the place where they were digging. Their beams shone brightly on the gold as it flashed into view in the black soil.

"This has to be the money that was supposed to be given to Louis Charles to supplement his life on the island," Father Etienne told them.

"The gold that was lost," Charlie said.

"Or stolen," Keri added.

"Perhaps not," the priest added. "It appears still to be here."

"Maybe he didn't need it." Keri shrugged. "Maybe they provided everything he needed."

By midnight, they had a sizeable hole in the ground and two hundred gold coins. There were also a few gold buttons and some silver tableware. None of them had stopped to eat or drink. The shovels went in and out of the ground. The treasure grew in size but there was still no sign of the dauphin or a coffin.

About two am, Keri collapsed on the ground. Charlie sat down next to her, breathing heavily. They had counted over a thousand gold pieces and a myriad collection of household items and scraps of rotted clothing.

"Where is he?" she asked Charlie.

He shook his head and passed a bottle of water to her. "Everything else is here."

"But none of this proves anything. Everyone knows there were French settlers on the island. It's a great treasure, but without the medallion or the ring, it doesn't prove anything."

"Have some water," Father Etienne encouraged them both. "You're exhausted. Eat this."

They shared sandwiches and the last of the water bottles. They were too exhausted to talk much and yet too excited to quit. They continued to dig for another two hours. Keri was rapidly reaching the point where she could barely lift her arms to take another shovel full of earth. She sat down with a heavy sigh on the side of the pit they had created. It was nearly as deep as she was tall. Father Etienne, not as young or as strong as he might like to be, had stayed on top. He helped Keri up across the slippery mud.

"Bring a ladder?" she asked Charlie in a hoarse voice as she looked down at him in the hole.

"How about a crew of diggers?" His head hurt and his muscles were rebelling by twitching in various places all over his body. He put down his shovel and the point made a dull thud.

Keri slid down the muddy side of the pit to stand beside him before he could look up to tell her.

"Is it--?" Father Etienne asked as he prayed.

It was a wooden coffin. They dragged the flashlights down into the pit with them. Father Etienne held two on the find from the top of the pit. Charlie used a wooden stick to find the shape and outline of it. Keri carefully wiped the top of the wooden coffin with a shirt from her pack and some of their water. Charlie shone the flashlight beam on her hand. Something glittered from under the years of black soil.

"The Capet family crest," Keri whispered softly. It was the gold crest of the King of France.

"We should wait," Charlie cautioned her. "We should have other people here to document this."

"We can't," Keri replied emotionally. "You wanted it to be kept a secret."

"I'll take photos," Father Etienne told them. "You open the top."

The camera flashed as Charlie pried up on the coffin lid with his shovel. The wood was old and soft. Parts of it were rotted away, leaving dark gaps in the coffin shape. There were no bones inside. Keri's heart sank. She leaned back against the side of the pit, suddenly too exhausted to stand by herself.

"Shine the light down here and take those pictures," Charlie demanded of Father Etienne who sighed heavily with exhaustion and disappointment. He turned to Keri. "Don't give out on me now!"

Keri stood close to him though her heart wasn't in it. The money meant nothing. Even the crest was meaningless without something substantial to back it up.

"Pictures!" Charlie prompted.

The priest snapped pictures of the coffin's interior. He caught Charlie and Keri as they worked at loosening the rest of the splintered wood.

Then Keri saw it. Gleaming dully in the black dirt that had invaded the coffin was a ring. It was crusted over but maintained its shape. Beside it was a gold chain that bore a medallion. It was impossible to say what was on the medallion.

Charlie held the flashlight on the ring as Keri poured water from a water bottle on its surface. Her breath came in faint and raspy gulps. This was it. The water revealed what years of neglect couldn't hide. It was the signet ring of King Louis XVI.

Father Etienne took pictures while the ring was revealed. He snapped away until the film was gone, taking a dozen pictures before he realized that he was out of film. Keri and Charlie put the ring and the medallion into separate plastic bags and sealed them, then climbed out of the pit.

It was dawn. The sky was lightening at the horizon. An entire day had gone by without them noticing. They were both covered in mud and grit, exhausted and probably dehydrated. Keri looked at Charlie, who held the medallion is his hands. Charlie looked at Keri, who held the signet ring of a king who'd been dead for over two hundred years.

"Yes!" Charlie yelled and grabbed Keri to swing her around.

Keri screamed in triumph and grabbed him tightly with her arms and legs, laughing and crying at the same time. They had done it!

Chapter Eleven

Keri and Charlie had both maintained their rooms at the hotels. They went to their respective rooms and collapsed. Keri called Dawn and told her about what had happened. Charlie called his sister and told her about the find.

Keri was exhausted but she had a hard time falling asleep. The air conditioning was cool and she had showered so that she finally felt clean again. She was exhilarated by everything that had happened but she was worried about Charlie. She hated that he would have to leave or take a back seat to what would come next. They would have to report the find to the authorities to protect it and to verify it. That would likely mean the newspapers, possibly television. She knew he didn't want to be involved in any of that.

She thought about how her life was going to change when the news came out on television. It was a major find. They had left the site in the hands of some of Father Etienne's constituents but Charlie had already called a security force from Mobile.

The one thing she hadn't counted on was the money. Of course, she would have to reimburse Charlie for the dig and he would get a share of the gold. But what was left was going to be a fortune. Even with the state taking the larger portion.

She finally slept and woke up six hours later, feeling dazed and starving. She'd just finished the fruit in the basket on the table and several glasses of water. Someone knocked at the door. She pulled on a robe and answered. There was a long, flat box that was covered in red silk. Curious, she opened it and found that it was from Charlie. There was a card on the inside. Meet me at 8 for dinner in the King's Ballroom. Charlie

Keri looked at the box. There was a red dress inside it. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was made of red silk. It was long and dangerous. It was a dress she would never have bought, much less worn. Not in her lifetime. But it was beautiful. The color was deep red with no concessions or apologies to any other shade. There was no effort to tone down the dress. It was back baring and had a slit from thigh to ankle on the left side.

She held it up to her and looked at it in the full-length mirror on the closet door. It was wicked but it would look glorious on her. When she looked at it, she knew she was going to meet him. Keri Marsh was a different person. She'd had a seizure again and she'd found a treasure and fallen in love. She could wear that scandalous dress and if she never saw Charlie again, he would always remember her in it.

There was barely enough time to get dressed. She had a pair of black heels that would have to do with the dress. She brushed her hair and didn't skimp with the lipstick. She had a nice tan from her days in the sun. It made the dress look that much better on her. She looked at herself once more in the mirror, adjusted the dress one last time, then left her hotel room.

It was only a short walk to the hotel that had hosted the King's ball for Mardi Gras. She hugged the shadows, not sure how she was going to like dealing with her ten minutes of fame when it finally found her. It would mean that her options were so much bigger than she'd ever dreamed. Stewart Grainger might court her but the offers from the other groups might be much better. And with her share of the treasure, there was always the idea of setting up her own independent archaeology group that would contract with museums to do excavations.

It was too much to think about that night. Especially when she knew Charlie was waiting for her and that he would probably tell her that he was leaving before the world learned the truth about the dauphin.

The concierge showed her to the ballroom door then nodded and left her there. She paused before she opened the door, realizing suddenly that she was nervous about seeing Charlie again. It was different, being there in the hotel with him. So much had happened between them. The big things weren't as much, perhaps, as the small things. It had only been a few days but it seemed like a lifetime.

Still, she couldn't stand there at the big doors, waiting to go in. If this adventure had taught her anything, it was that she had to open the door for herself. Grasping the door handle firmly in one hand, she flung it wide open. Immediately, a smiling man in a tuxedo ushered her into the room. An orchestra started playing and Charlie was at her side.

"You look beautiful!" He glanced at his watch. "But it's almost eight thirty. I was about to give up and go home."

Keri looked around the huge ballroom with its twenty-foot ceiling. It was the same place they'd been the night of the Mardi Gras celebration but there was no one else in the room. Only one table and two chairs were set in one corner, near the orchestra.

"Thanks for the dress, Charlie. Where is everyone else?"

"It's ours for the night."

"But--"

"You know, that reminds me. Despite the fact that I must have danced thirty dances when we were here the last time, we only danced one." He held out his hand. She smiled and put hers into it.

Charlie whirled her around the empty ballroom, his eyes never leaving hers. The orchestra played song after song without stopping until she demanded that he feed her. "I'm starving! The invitation said dinner or I would have eaten before I got here."

"All right. I'll feed you. Then we can dance." Charlie seated her at one of the chairs and signaled the waiters.

"You look very nice, too," she told him, admiring his broad shoulders in his black tuxedo.

"Thanks. I suppose we both look a lot better than when we crawled out of that pit this morning."

Keri sipped her water. "It doesn't seem like it was just this morning."

"So, how does it feel to be rich and almost famous?"

"Strange. How does it feel to be an overnight sensation in the archaeology world?"

"Definitely strange," he responded.

The waiters brought their first course. It was mushroom soup.

"Not as good as yours," she remarked when she tasted it.

"Thanks. What did your roommate say?"

"She didn't really understand. How about your sister?"

Charlie frowned. "She was more interested in meeting you."

Keri was surprised and pleased that he'd told his sister about her. "I'd like to meet her, too."

"What are you going to do now?" He kept his tone light and friendly. He'd promised himself that for this last night, he would be his usual self. He wouldn't make commitments he couldn't keep. And he wouldn't ask her to make any promises she might regret.

"I don't know. Everything has changed, hasn't it? I was just going to go back to Richmond, but now, I think I might have other options."

"Money changes everything," he quoted without a trace of a smile.

"What about you? Money hasn't changed for you but your credibility in the archaeology world has. You could join any group, Charlie. You could start your own group."

He did smile then and looked up at her. "You and I could become partners in an independent group. Eller and Marsh."

"And you'd still do it as a hobby and spend all your time working for the bank."

He sipped his wine. "That's probably true. I'm afraid this doesn't really change anything for me, Keri. You're just starting out. My path is pretty well set."

The waiters brought their second course. Macaroni and cheese.

Keri laughed as they opened the silver server filled with macaroni and cheese. "You are insane! The chef must be so affronted!"

"Actually, he knew Armand and he was thrilled to make anything we wanted. I told him that this was your favorite."

"I got a note from that lady in the historical society," she told him. "She wants to have us over for coffee, to talk about the dig. It seems Father Etienne couldn't resist telling everyone."

"Money's good for that too, Keri. People who didn't like you before will love you now."

"I don't need to know people like that."

Charlie shook his head. "At least you don't have to prove anything else to Mr. Grainger."

"I know."

They had omelets next and candied violets on ice cream for dessert. But the festive mood had evaporated. Neither one of them could forget that it was over. The adventure was behind them. All that was left was to say goodbye.

"When are you leaving the island?" Charlie had drawn her to the dance floor again.

"In the morning." He held her in his arms and moved slowly to the poignant music the orchestra was playing. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her sweet fragrance. His fingers touched her smooth skin. He wanted to say...something but he didn't know what to say to her. I love you.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her but he didn't want her to say that she loved him because she didn't know what else to say. And it wouldn't be fair. He didn't know how to have a relationship with a woman. "What about you?"

"I'm going to stay to oversee the first part of the cataloging," she said. "After that I don't know."

They walked in the garden. The hundreds of gardenia bushes perfumed the cool night air. Keri knew she would never be able to smell gardenias again without thinking about Charlie and that night.

They walked back to her hotel together. It was late and the cafes were empty. A strong sea breeze was sweeping through the streets. In the distance, there was a chapel bell calling. They both thought about Father Etienne.

"Well. I guess this is it." Their footsteps slowed as they came near the hotel.

"It's been a wonderful night," she said, hoping her heart wasn't in her voice. "It was great working with you, Charlie. I'll always remember--"

He swept her up in his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. "I don't want you to remember me, Keri. I want you to love me. I want you in my life, such as it is. I'm willing to make it something we can both be happy with."

Keri was speechless. "Charlie, I--"

"Marry me, Keri." He kissed her again. "We'll make the rest of it work."

A car stopped behind them in the street and a dozen flashes went off around them. "Lucky in love and in discovery, huh, you two?" A young black woman with a gorgeous face and a camera following her approached them. "Angela Starr. Channel Six News. We heard about your discovery of the young French king. Care to comment?"

"Not yet," Keri said stiffly but it was too late. Several of the newspaper reporters and another television reporter caught sight of Angela Starr with them and swarmed the front of the hotel.

"This is the biggest news of the decade for this island," one man told them.

"We'd like your pictures! Just smile and look this way."

"Keri," Charlie said ominously. "I have to go."

"Charlie!"

"Hey, you're Charlie Eller! Your family owns most of Pittsburgh!"

"Charlie who?" another reporter asked.

"I'll call you," Charlie promised her.

"Charlie, wait!" Keri called out to him. She was surrounded by reporters and well-wishers, all wanting to know the story. Charlie was gone.

Keri was exhausted the next day. Flowers and telegrams had come in from all over the world. Offers of every kind of archaeology expedition had followed. In the midst of all the other huge bouquets came one perfect red rose. Attached to it was a plane ticket and a note.

In three weeks, I'll be in Paris. Please be there. I love you. Charlie

* * *

Keri put the rose to her face and inhaled its sweet perfume. In three weeks. They could be together again in three weeks. She put the rose and the note along with the plane ticket in her suitcase, then dressed to go out to the site.

Because there wasn't a museum funding the dig, the state of Alabama sent in an expert who could oversee the cataloging of the finds that had been buried with the dauphin. The entire area was dug apart, looking for further gold or other artifacts. Father Etienne zealously protected the shrine from harm and even got the state to agree to make it a permanent historical site. The whole area would be marked and protected from vandals. A plaque would be put up with the dauphin's name on it. Keri continued to catalogue things like buttons and housewares. Charlie's name had been on every newspaper with her own. His family had to know that he had been involved. They'd flashed his name and information about him on television. So many reporters had asked about him. She'd developed an answer. Charlie Eller was part of the team but he had to leave to fulfill other obligations.

And in three weeks, she'd be in Paris!

* * *

James Eller put down the remote control, leaving Keri's face frozen on the television screen in his office. "Didn't we talk about this last year, Charlie?"

"I think we did," Charlie said, unable to take his eyes off of Keri's face.

"What possessed you to become involved with this young woman?"

"I contacted her and funded the dig," he answered. "She became involved with me."

The senior Eller took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "You know, all of this will be yours someday, if there's any left after this fiasco."

Charlie grimaced. "Look, how bad can this be? It's not like I was involved in a sex scandal."

James Eller picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "In the banking business, there are no good scandals, Charlie. Three of your loan clients have asked for a new manager. Two others that you were supposed to visit canceled their appointments for next month." He put down the paper. "Don't you understand yet, Charlie? It's just being part of the headlines that our clients don't like. Bankers are supposed to be nameless and faceless. They aren't supposed to be in the newspapers and on television! Did you know that the government of France is talking about suing for King Louis's ring and the medallion? They claim it was stolen from them!"

Charlie shrugged. "It will blow over."

"Again."

"If you want me to resign--"

"You know I don't want that, Charlie. What about this girl?"

"Keri Marsh?"

"That's the one."

"There's nothing to say about her."

"You aren't involved with her? Will that be the next thing to come out?"

Charlie stared at his grandfather. "That's part of my life that the bank has nothing to do with."

"There is no part...where are you going, Charlie?"

"I have a plane to catch."

"Charlie!" The old man's voice cracked against the door to the outer office as his grandson closed it behind him.

"He let you have it, didn't he?" his sister, Dana, asked.

"Did you think he'd hold back?"

"Still going to Paris?"

He held up the plane ticket. "On my way!"

"Dana!" Their Grandfather called from the inner sanctum.

"Good luck!" Dana answered before she entered through the big doors.

Charlie's plane was late and the traffic was lousy. He loved Paris, despite its many drawbacks. Sometimes it seemed to be more crowded each time he arrived but there was always the Seine and the winding streets and the smell of baking bread and coffee in the morning air. This time, there was Keri. For three weeks, he'd waited and worried. Would she show up? Would it be the same between them? He realized that she must have doubts, too. He thought about calling her but each time he picked up the phone, he set it back down. He was pragmatic. He'd never been in a serious relationship in his life. If she loved him, she would come.

He'd leased a suite of rooms that were charming and graceful with their old world touches and view of the Champs Elysee. Keri would love it. He would fill her head with French history, her stomach with French food and wine and then he would fill her heart with his love. He'd had a ring made for her that was a miniature version of the engagement ring that Louis had given Marie Antoinette. All the time, he was praying, as he'd never prayed before, that it was real between them. He wanted to believe that he had finally found that one person he could love for the rest of his life.

Charlie waited through that night, the next day, and the following night. Anxious to know if something had happened to her, he rang her hotel on the island. He was told that she was at a press conference and that she would return his call when it was over. He hung up the phone and didn't call again. He looked around the rooms and realized that he'd been a fool. How many friends had he counseled that they were better off not looking for a serious relationship with one man or one woman? He'd never had to remind himself before that what he had with a woman was passing. Keri had already forgotten him.

The phone rang and he pounced on it, still hoping it might be her. It was his grandfather, calling from Pittsburgh about a client. Charlie jotted down the name and number in Turkey.

"Are you all right, Charlie?" his grandfather asked briefly.

"I'm fine now," Charlie replied briskly. "I'll take care of this tomorrow."

"Charlie--"

"I'll let you know how it goes, Granddad. Bye."

Charlie packed everything he'd brought with him. He looked at the ring again then looked around the room. He took a deep breath then left the room and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Keri returned to her room, stiff and aching in every joint. They'd found the body of the dauphin. At least, they thought it was the remains of the dauphin. It would take some testing to know for sure. It was buried off to the west of the original grave. Everyone was hypothesizing why it would've been there but so far no one really knew. The chances were, no one would ever know for sure.

Yawning, she limped into the shower and washed off the dirt that had caked on her. She'd been working at the site for the past two days non-stop. She'd been afraid to leave until they had the remains secured away. If the skeletal remains were found to be a man about twenty- six whose one leg was slightly shorter than the other, it would help to confirm the find. If not, the medallion and ring still stood on their own.

Clean and dry, wrapped in a fleece robe, Keri looked at her sunburned nose and the dark circles under her eyes in the bathroom mirror. Mr. Grainger had arrived that day with some sort of plan to include the museum in the dig. She'd refused to be part of it. He'd offered her the things he wanted most in the world: her own expedition and team to work in the field. She'd turned him down.

The things he wanted most. The words tantalized her mind and excited her tired body. The thing she wanted most had changed a great deal in the last few weeks. Smiling, she went to sit down on the bed and pulled out her suitcase. The things he wanted most would be waiting for her in Paris in a day or two, she thought, smiling at the thought of seeing him again. Until she saw the date on the airline ticket. She was two days late!

Keri panicked. She rummaged through her purse and found the old number he'd given her. The number was not in service. What must he think? She was devastated that he'd waited there for her and she had lost track of the time. Everything had happened so quickly. Most of the time, she didn't know if she was coming from the site or going to a lecture or press conference.

Would she have accepted that as a reason for him to forget her? She shuddered at the thought. She would've thought that he didn't love her. That he didn't want to accept her proposal of marriage. She would have felt like her world had crashed and burned around her.

Picking up the phone, she called the number from Charlie's business card. A woman answered and when Keri asked for Charlie, she heard the woman give the phone to someone else.

"Hello?"

"Hello! I'm trying to get in touch with Charlie Eller."

"Who is this?"

"Who is this?" Keri demanded.

The woman laughed. "This is the woman who's about to hang up on you. How did you get this number?"

Keri was inspired. "Is this Dana?"

"This is Dana." There was silence. "This isn't...Keri?"

"Yes! Yes, this is Keri. Dana, I have to get in touch with Charlie."

"Keri, I don't think he wants to talk to you."

"This whole thing was a misunderstanding, Dana! He loves me. I love him. I got involved in excavating the dauphin's remains and I--"

"Wait! Are you telling me you love my brother but you got so involved with some dead guy's remains that you forgot you were supposed to meet him in Paris?"

Keri swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. "Yes." It sounded weak and ridiculous when she put it that way but it was the truth.

"Hold on."

Keri glance at her watch. The only other thing she could think to do was to fly to Pittsburgh and wait for him to come back. Obviously, Dana was just trying to think of something to put her off. She'd probably do the same thing if their positions were reversed.

"Keri?"

"Yes?"

"You can't get in touch with him right now. But I know where you can find him in three days."

Keri's heart jumped up in her throat. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Absolutely!" Dana told her with a smile in her voice. "But you're the kind of crazy that's perfect for Charlie. He's the only other person I know who could forget his name over a pot buried in the ground. Good luck, Keri."

"Thanks, Dana."

Keri went to Father Etienne and explained the situation. "I have to go to him."

"Then you must do so," the priest agreed with a smile. "You have spent too much time apart already."

Keri glanced at the ground. "I was supposed to meet him in Paris two days ago."

"What?"

"We started excavating the dauphin and I forgot."

"Oh, Keri! That is too bad!"

"I know. I'm hoping he can forgive me."

The priest smiled at her. "I believe he will understand. You have like hearts and kindred minds."

"I hope you're right."

"I will pray for you, my child. Go with God. And do not fear for the excavation, I will keep the jackals away!"

Keri knew he would. She felt safe leaving the site in his hands. All she had to do was pack and make it to the airport. And pray that Charlie would forgive her.

* * *

Charlie got off the plane at the steamy airport. He took his time. Customs was going to take forever. The line was already around the building. It got worse every time he came to Hong Kong. He'd been out of sorts since his grandfather had sent him to London for three days before he went on to China. The deal had gone well enough but he was restless and unhappy.

It was just the time change and the extra work, he told himself. It had nothing to do with Keri. He'd never moped over a woman before in his life. Of course, he'd never told a woman before that he loved her and wanted to marry her. He'd kept the engagement ring but only until he could get home and sell it.

When she hadn't come to Paris, it was like a part of him died. For the first time since he was in college, he was questioning his life. Why didn't she love him? Why hadn't he seen the signs? How was he going to make himself care about the deal in Hong Kong when he didn't care about anything anymore?

He'd been careful around Dana and Jeff. He didn't want them to know that he'd finally broken his heart. He didn't think he could stand to hear another of Jeff's sailing metaphors. That was why he'd agreed to take on the London job. Time off didn't sound very good just then.

Customs took almost an hour. He only had one bag. A young Chinese kid had already picked it up for him. He was waiting by the door with a taxi already called for him. He flipped the boy a big tip. It always paid to be generous.

"Box for you," the boy said as he was walking past him.

Charlie looked at the slight figure. He couldn't see his face and the bulky clothes were impossible, but the kid sounded like a girl.

"Who is it from?" Charlie asked as he took the box.

The boy shrugged and half carried-half dragged the heavy bag towards the door.

Charlie opened the box. It was lined in white satin. Fanned out and held in place by clips were a gold chain and a medallion. It was clean. The gold was old and burnished with time. The medallion was finally visible. It was the Madonna and child. The circlet was set with precious gems. "Where did you get this?" He caught the boy's coat in his hand.

"Pretty lady," the boy replied in a muffled tone.

"Pretty lady?" Charlie looked closely at the boy.

"Pretty lady. Very sorry. Very, very sorry."

"Is she?" Charlie wondered with a grim smile. "How sorry?"

"Very, very sorry. She would never forget again, even if a friend was dying. Even if the world was coming to an end. Never. Very, very sorry. Love you very much. Very, very much."

"She loves me, huh?"

"Very, very much. She want to take you away from all of this. Take you with her to look for other treasure. Around the world. Always together."

Charlie laughed. "How can I resist?" He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and kissed him soundly. A few people looked. Most didn't notice or care. He was a crazy American. "What kept you?"

Keri took out a few pictures of the skeletal remains they'd uncovered at the site. "Louis Charles, I think."

Charlie looked at the pictures, then gave them back to her. "You could have called."

"I didn't even know what day it was," she tried to explain. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you."

"How?"

She reached up and kissed him, her mouth lingering over the familiar taste and feel of him. "Marry me. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"And our archaeological partnership?"

"Fifty-fifty." She looked into his eyes. "Will you?"

"What treasure are we going to look for first?" Charlie asked when he couldn't stand to look at the pleading in her eyes any longer. He took Keri's hat off and filled his hands with her silky hair.

Keri smiled up at him, her arms still twined around his neck. "I think we should look for Brier's treasure of the heart first, angel, darling, cherie. The world can wait."

"A woman after my own heart," Charlie whispered, then he kissed her again.

~The End~

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