Page 95 of Summer in Greece

‘Let’s drop your bag off on the way to the taverna . . . and perhaps you want to freshen up before we eat?’

‘Dropping the bags off sounds good. I managed to freshen up in Athens airport. There’s a shower and such in the priority lounge.’ There was an urgency between them, trying to remain polite, both desperate to be in each other’s arms.

‘May I?’ he said, the moment they stepped inside her room. He kissed her, leaning his body towards hers, the moment heavy with building passion.

‘Stop now,’ she whispered. ‘We must go and eat.’ She wanted him so badly.

At the taverna table, his leg pressed against hers. Her hand slid across the table, the tip of her middle finger connecting with his.

His mouth fell open slightly as he smiled. ‘Wine?’ he asked.

‘Oh, yes.’

They ate, hardly looking at the food, their eyes meeting in a sensual dance. Dawn would come too soon.

*

She woke before daylight, lying curled against his body in the dark, listening to the sound of the sea. Now she was exactly where she wanted to be. Later, he would introduce her to the Britannic’s dive team. Although there was no chance of diving with them, he had secured her a place on the dive boat. Shelly would assist Elias, Harry’s son. Harry’s phone-alarm beeped. He stirred, slung an arm across and turned it off without opening his eyes. ‘Come on,’ he mumbled. ‘Pull some clothes on, your turtles are hatching.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘No, chop-chop.’

From the sound of his voice, she feared he would go back to sleep. She leapt out of bed and turned the big light on.

Harry’s face scrunched. ‘Evil woman.’

She laughed, pure joy exploding inside her chest as she slung her camera around her neck. Five minutes later, they bustled out of the door and headed for the beach across the road. Harry handed her a torch. ‘It’s infrared. No need to worry about it disorientating the turtles. They won’t see it.’

She smiled at him, resisting the urge to say, I know.

‘I don’t want to walk along the sand in case we step on other nests. Let’s walk along the water’s edge,’ she suggested. They slipped their shoes off, left them on the pavement, then strolled, side by side in the shallows until they came to the right spot. ‘It’s here, Harry,’ she whispered.

They stopped and shone their red torchlight onto the sand. ‘I don’t see any movement, perhaps it’s still too warm.’

‘Ah, you know everything about them, yes?’ Harry said.

‘I know they’ll only emerge when the sand’s cool enough down there. The heat was still coming up from the tarmac when I got off the ferry, so it must have been a very hot day. Let’s go further along, perhaps there are others.’

He nodded, his hand taking hold of hers.

Apart from an irregular row of tamarisk trees and a couple of varnished council benches, the beach was empty and the port completely quiet. Only the sound of wavelets lapping the shoreline interrupted the silence. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark. She looked up towards the horizon, but avoided staring at the lighthouse that pulsed, two flashes every six seconds. She didn’t want to lose her night-vision. They saw no other sign of an emerging clutch and turned back. Then he stopped, pulled her against him, her camera hard between their chests. A cockerel, sensing the approach of dawn, crowed somewhere behind the village.

‘Excuse me,’ she whispered, moving her camera around to the side. He pulled her back into his arms and she felt his body harden against her.

‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ he whispered. ‘I feel as though I’ve been waiting for you all my life. Does that sound crazy?’

She smiled, staring into the darkness, positively fizzing with happiness. Being wanted was so uplifting, and at the same time empowering.

Movement near their feet caught her attention. ‘Harry, the ground’s boiling. Look,’ she whispered urgently, breaking away from his embrace.

They both stared as a creature, resembling a tiny piecrust with flippers, broke through the sand. Flapping fins that seemed a little oversized, it trundled and bumped towards the waterline like a clockwork toy. Seconds later, dozens of miniature turtles scrabbled up through the sand, setting their sights on the Aegean waterline.

‘Oh, isn’t that the most magical thing you’ve ever seen?’ Shelly stared at the scene. ‘Excuse me. I have to video this,’ she whispered while ramping up her camera’s setting and turning the program to video. ‘Let’s get behind them, in case any head for the street.’ Seeing the event through the camera made it even more exciting because later, she could share the moment with the special people in her life.

*

Back at her room, she curled her body around Harry’s. Although content, she could not sleep. Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She lay in the dark, eyes wide open, remembering DJ at the airport, Harry at the port, the turtles on the beach, then Gran Gertie came to mind. This was how she must have felt sitting on the old chest against the harbour wall; simply overwhelmed by it all.