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  And that was when he did it! He stabbed her in the back! Anthony took a piece of her work and plagiarised it to such an extent that it was easily recognisable as a copy. He simply put his assignment in first and she was the one accused of cheating. The affair coincided with her grandmother’s death, and having to deal with the two events together nearly destroyed her. She could not believe that the man who meant so much to her could be so heartless. She fell apart and dropped out of the course. She never achieved her Master’s degree, but, worse still, her world was in tatters and the little confidence she had gained vanished once again.

  Anthony went on to his doctorate and joined Victor on a dig in Italy, where they uncovered an immense hoard of coins and jewellery from the time of Caesar. His charm and personality made him an instant success with the media and he became an overnight celebrity. He was so sought after for lectures and TV appearances that he became the rock-star equivalent of the archaeological world. No archaeologist had been so well-known since Howard Carter had discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb, and job offers came by the bucket load. Working with Dr Marcus became the dream of many students and the honour of a select few, mostly attractive women who usually threw themselves at him. There had been rumours that he was willing to indulge more than their thirst for academic knowledge, but nothing had ever been proved. The old Anthony was fully resurgent, and getting quite a reputation.

  Melissa, meanwhile, had no glittering success: her brilliant future was nothing more than a distant memory and she spent her life on minor digs or in junior positions. One even more disastrous relationship later, she now lived alone in the same house in which she had grown up. Deeply in debt, she worked in a local museum by day, and taught evening classes at an adult education college. The only positive thing she had done was to have laser eye surgery so she no longer needed her glasses. A great achievement indeed! Was she bitter and resentful? Probably, no, make that definitely. Did she hate Anthony? No. As much as she wanted to, she just could not bring herself to do so. He had hurt her badly and she was still mad at him for that, but even the years that had passed had not stopped her caring for him. Could she ever believe him again? Probably not! So why was she even waiting for him?

  Melissa looked at her watch. Another fifty minutes had gone by and still no sign of him. She was annoyed at herself for not having left already. She downed the rest of her wine and bent under the table to retrieve her handbag. As she did so a familiar voice said, “I bought you another – I hope Pinot Grigio is OK?”

  Melissa rose with a start and hit her head hard on the corner of the table on the way up. “Shit!” she exclaimed, closing her eyes as she winced. Her hand went instinctively to the source of the pain, only to find another hand already there. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes to look up at the man standing next to her. It was the first time she had seen Anthony up close in years, and his proximity made her resolve to be strong begin to crumble. He was older, yes, but he had hardly changed. He had the slightest hint of grey beginning at his temples and was well-tanned, emphasising the lines around his eyes that a life spent outdoors was causing to develop. These suited him and seemed to give him a certain gravitas, suitable for a man of his authority.

  His hand moved tenderly through her hair and Melissa involuntarily closed her eyes again, this time at the softness of his touch. Memories of being with Anthony flooded back. Thoughts of what it felt like to be held by him overwhelmed her and she inadvertently turned her head towards his hand, desperate to make the moment last. He let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, obviously pleased with the reaction he had engendered. Annoyed with herself, she drew back from his hand, which had now removed a small splinter of wood that had lodged itself in her head. As he moved round the table to sit opposite her, his face transformed into one of his trademark, disarming smiles.

  “No serious damage,” he said, as he lowered himself onto the bench opposite. “I can’t afford for you to put a dent in your most valuable asset. You’re far too important to me for that.”

  She could not say whether it was his mildly patronising tone or her annoyance at herself for her moment of weakness that sparked the reaction, but the alcohol she had consumed with the intention of calming her down now had the opposite effect. Before she even consciously realised what she was doing she had extended her arm and slapped him hard across the cheek. The barman, who had been clearing the table vacated by the old man, looked across at them, but continued with his work half-watching the scene unfold. A woman walking her dog outside the pub stopped and stared at them. Anthony smiled and waved at the woman whilst rubbing his cheek, which was still stinging.

  “Nice to see you too, Liss,” he added in a low voice looking at her from the corner of his eye, still facing the woman with the dog, who seemed unsure whether to continue or wait to see what would happen next. Anthony had never called Melissa by her full name. It used to annoy her when they first met, and he knew it: this was a tactic to see if she would react again, but this time she did not rise to the bait. “Lovely day,” he called out to the woman with the dog, who nodded in response and turned and walked on.

  Once the woman had crossed the green and was out of earshot, Anthony turned back to Melissa. “That was a little harsh, wasn’t it?” he said, in his most disarming tone. “I mean, I come all this way to see you and this is what I get!” His eyes seemed to be pleading with her for forgiveness, but his voice had a lack of sincerity that only annoyed her more. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” he continued.

  Melissa snapped. She picked up the wine glass from the table and threw its contents in his face. “Bastard!” she hissed at him, with a vehemence that betrayed her pent-up anger. She stood, her hands firmly planted on the table, and leaned across to him, her face only inches from his. “Two bloody hours waiting for you and your patronising crap! Why don’t you crawl back into your latest twenty-something and treat her like a child, not me. I’m sure she’ll get hours of fun from the role-play!” Her eyes flashed with rage.

  Anthony still knew exactly how to press her buttons, and took a guess at what she would do next. He knew she would leave rather than show any emotion beyond the rage so prominently on display, and he needed her to stay. He knew there were years of stored-up anger to be vented, and that he deserved everything she had to throw at him. He had to make her let go of the pain so they could move on: too much was riding on the outcome of this meeting for him to let her leave.

  The barman had crossed to their table “Towel?” he offered Anthony, in a hesitant tone, obviously unsure whether to get involved or to steer well clear of the situation.

  “Thanks, but we’re fine,” Anthony replied. His eyes had not left Melissa’s until that moment, but he now turned to the barman and rose from his seat, sighing as he did so. “This is totally my fault. I should have been on time.” The disarming tone and smile were back. He stepped away from the table, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder and began steering him back to the door of the bar. “I can easily change, but I really need to make amends before ...”

  Anthony was gesturing in Melissa’s direction, but she was no longer listening. She had grabbed her bag and was extricating herself from her chair. There was no point in being here. Anthony obviously got some kind of enjoyment out of making a fool out of her and she had no intention of staying around for more. She turned around far too quickly for a woman who had just consumed two large wines and no food, and immediately regretted it. The wall, road and village green before her began to blur into one single image and she felt giddy. She reached out to steady herself on the table, but missed as it moved in her view. She stumbled forwards and steeled herself for the fall she knew was coming, but was unable to prevent.

  Yet, instead of the feeling of hard flagstones hitting her knees, all she felt was warmth around her waist and then that same warmth spreading up her back, down her right arm and enveloping her hand. Somehow Anthony had grabbed her as she fell. He had pulled her towards him, using his body to steady her
s and was now holding her against him to stop her swaying. His right hand stroked hers comfortingly as he whispered, “You OK? You haven’t hurt yourself?”

  Melissa turned her head to look at him, leaning away slightly. His face was full of concern. She thought it was the first genuine emotion he had displayed since his arrival, but then her vision started to blur again and she was unsure if she had imagined it. She took a deep breath, mustering as much composure as she could manage. She looked roughly at where she thought his eyes would be if they were not moving so, and said in the most serene tone she could manage, “I … am fine … thank you … but I am going ... to leave now.” She pulled away from him, but misplaced her footing and promptly fell again. Anthony pulled her back to him, and this time held her firmly. He slowly lowered her back into the chair, crouching in front of her and looked up at her face. How much has she had? he wondered, I won’t get any sense out of her like this!

  “Time to go!” Anthony said, decidedly. He rose again, lifting Melissa with one arm. He picked up her bag and half-steered, half-carried her to his car parked just along the green. She made a weak effort at protest, which Anthony ignored. The world was now reeling at such a phenomenal rate that she made no further objections. Guiding her into the passenger seat, he fastened her seat belt for her and closed the door, shaking his head as he walked around to the other side of the car.

  Chapter 2

  An hour and a whole pot of coffee later, Melissa and Anthony sat staring at anything except each other in the living room of her home. Anthony was noticing how tired the cottage was looking. It was exactly as he remembered, right down to the garish, flowery wallpaper in the living room, though it had not been so faded or peeling from the walls when he had last been there some eight years earlier. The paint on the door and the window surrounds was yellowing and needed refreshing.

  He moved uncomfortably in his chair next to the fireplace. It sagged under his weight and creaked noisily as he shifted in it, making him suspect that he would fall through if he moved much more. His mind wandered back to the hall where he had noticed that the stair carpet was ripped and threadbare on the treads. It was a wonder Melissa had managed to avoid tripping on it and breaking her neck. It was as if she had allowed her interest in the house to die along with her grandmother; it was clean, but uncared for.

  Melissa, meanwhile, was pressing a cold flannel to the lump on her forehead. She had hit it a lot harder than either of them had realised, but it had taken some time and sobriety to show through. Feeling sheepish and embarrassed by her earlier behaviour, small talk had run out some time before and she was beginning to wonder if Anthony was ever going to tell her why he contacted her after all these years. They were sitting silently and the afternoon was slowly ticking away. Although she was in no particular hurry to start the next round of the fight between them, evening was approaching and she wanted him to get on with it.

  She knew she would have to take the initiative. “You said on the phone you had an offer for me?” she asked.

  Anthony looked concerned as he replied. “Yes, but I don’t know if now’s the right time to discuss it, really. You should probably be resting. Perhaps I could stay over and …”

  “You won’t get another chance,” she cut him off coldly, appalled at the thought that he was angling for an invite to stay the night. “It’s now or never, up to you.” She put the wet flannel down on the coffee table and turned her full attention to him.

  Anthony ran his hand over his chin. He was obviously thinking about where to start. He leant forward in the chair, resting his arms on his knees. He took a deep breath and began to explain his reason for coming. “I’m going on a dig this summer. It’s going to be the last one for a while, maybe for good. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  “Why’s that?” Melissa asked purely to keep the conversation going. What he did, or why, was of no concern to her.

  “I’ve just had enough. Need a break, bit of a change of pace.”

  “Really? That doesn’t sound like you.” Melissa tried, but failed to hide the sarcastic tone she had employed.

  “People change, Liss. I’ve changed.” Antony appeared sincere. He sighed and sat back in the chair and immediately regretted it as another spring prodded him painfully in the backside.

  “So what do you want from me − a pat on the back?” she replied, with a little less sarcasm.

  “No, I want you to join me on this dig. It’s not going to be easy and I could really use the best minds I know on this. It’ll be hard work and it could be a long slog, but I know you’re not afraid of that.”

  Melissa laughed. “Sorry, but that sounded like you were offering me a job!”

  “I am. I want you to be one of my Field Supervisors.” Anthony rose from the chair and walked over to the window, staring out of it with his back towards her. “Do you remember how we used to joke that one day we were going to make the biggest discovery of the century? Well, I might just be about to do it and I want you to be a part of it. I know the location of one of Caesar’s encampments. It’s just north of the Rubicon. I intend to start excavations as soon as I get back and I want you to join me as soon as your commitments to your students are fulfilled for this year.”

  Melissa was not laughing anymore. She was sitting with her mouth open, staring at Anthony’s back. He had not looked at her once since he had moved to the window and she had no idea whether he was being serious or not. She was completely thrown by everything he had just said. Her options began to whirl uncontrollably in her mind. This was a great opportunity for her. In one way it was the chance of a lifetime that she could never hope to achieve with her qualifications, but it was coming from a man who had used her to further his own career. There had to be a catch. She had to say no. It was the right thing to do, but, if she did, she would be stuck in her mundane little life forever. Of course, if she said yes, then she would probably end up abandoned somewhere in Italy, with no way home. And how could he be so certain of the location? No one was even sure where the Rubicon was.

  Melissa’s total silence was unnerving. “I’m guessing that’s a no then?” Anthony finally said, sighing as he turned to look at her.

  “What?” Anthony’s question jolted Melissa into making a response. “Yes! I mean no! I mean, oh God what am I saying. I mean why? Why me? Why now? After all this time ...” her words faded as she finished the sentence.

  “I’m not proud of all the things I’ve done, especially not to you.” Anthony was being sincere. “When you first left me I hardly even noticed you were gone. My life was like a roller coaster after I hooked up with Victor, and I just didn’t have time to think about it. I was doing so well. Money and opportunities …”

  “And girls,” Melissa interjected.

  “AND girls …”Anthony nodded in agreement, “… came at me from every direction. It was like being a kid in a candy store. I had everything I could ever want, provided I was prepared to take the chances as they came up. And, believe me, they just kept coming. Victor made sure of that.”

  “And how is Victor? Well, I hope.” Melissa made no attempt to hide the sarcasm this time. The mention of Victor’s name twice in quick succession made her feel sick. If she hated anyone, it was him. He had taken everything from her a piece at a time, starting with her grades and ending with the man she loved. He was truly the one to blame for ruining her life, not Anthony.

  “Victor’s dying. He has bowel cancer. They’ve done all they can, but it’s spreading to his other organs and now it’s just a matter of time.” Anthony stared at Melissa as if he was waiting for some form of acknowledgement of the statement he had just made. None came. Her initial thought was, Good! He deserves it, but she was not so heartless and she felt a pang of guilt. No one deserved to suffer like that, no matter what they had done. Melissa did not dare to react visibly either way to Anthony’s statement. She simply stared back at him without displaying any emotion whatsoever.

  He went on. “We found out three years a
go. The treatment slowed him down for a while, but all the time he’d be planning what we’d be doing next. I’ve never known a man do so much research from a bed! He found the site I’m talking about. He found the Rubicon and then he tracked the location of the encampment. We start digging next month.”

  “So this is all for Victor, then?” Melissa still had no idea why her involvement was so important, but other pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place.

  “In a way, yes, it is for Victor. It’s lucky I already own the land because I knew we would have to do this over a long time, as and when he’s up to working. Being good friends with the local authorities has made it easier to get the permissions I need to dig. I have negotiated a six-month permit so there are no pressing time constraints for this season. That’s where this started, but now it’s about you, too. Victor made some wrong choices in the past and he needs to put things right before it’s too late.”

  Melissa shook her head in disbelief. “If you expect me to believe that Victor’s dying wish is to give me a chance then you truly are an idiot. That man hates me!”

  “That man is my godfather and I will do whatever it takes to help put his mind at rest!”