Page 28 of Troy Story
Emilia’s mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. “Yeah. I’m in. I can’t resist a good con.”
Dusty couldn’t deny the frisson of excitement surging through her. She loved it when a plan fell into place. “I still need to figure out the logistics. Clarissa, we’ll need your dad’s help.”
“No problem. He loves spy movies. He’ll be thrilled if we include him.”
“Perfect. And we’ll call this…” Dusty thought for a moment. “Operation Odysseus. Because we’re being sneaky, the same way he was when he pulled the Trojan horse trick.”
Emilia frowned. “Before you get too ahead of yourself,Odysseus, I need to know if this mission is top secret or if you plan to tell Stuart about it.”
Dusty cringed. As much as she hated keeping Stuart in the dark, Dr. Hughes didn’t want him involved. “Nope. Hughes asked me not to tell him or Kerim.”
“You sure that’s how you want to play it?” Emilia gave her a knowing look. As if to say, “Do you really want to keep a secret from the guy you’ve been crushing on for years?”
For an agonizing moment, Dusty considered the possible fallout. What if they screwed up and got Dr. Hughes in trouble? What if Stuart found out and was furious at her for plotting espionage behind his back? But then she imagined how bereft she’d feel if Dr. Hughes sent her home. Hiding this plan from Stuart was better than losing the next five weeks with him.
“We’re doing this,” she said to Emilia. “On Monday, during our morning break, we’ll put Operation Odysseus into action.”
If she succeeded, she’d keep her job. Mort would get a shout-out in Dr. Hughes’ next publication, and Stuart might even benefit. It could be a win for all of them.
As long as she didn’t get caught.
CHAPTERELEVEN
After a long, exhausting week, Stuart was eager for his day off. All he’d wanted was a nice, quiet beach day where he could relax, swim, and reconnect with Dusty. They’d been working at Troy for three weeks now, and he had yet to reveal his feelings. If he didn’t take action soon, he might lose her to Kerim, who was growing closer to her with each passing day.
But Stuart’s dream vanished in a puff of smoke when Kerim suggested everyone drive up to the marina in Çanakkale so he could take them sailing. He’d even promised to dock in a protected cove so they could go swimming.
In theory, a great idea. What better way to spend a sweltering July afternoon than lazing on a boat on the Aegean Sea?
Unfortunately, Stuart was having a hard time controlling his jealousy whenever he imagined Dusty and Kerim together. What made it worse was that he genuinely liked Kerim. So far, he’d been an ideal colleague—smart, even-tempered, a true professional in the field. But he was obviously attracted to Dusty, who’d responded enthusiastically when he suggested sailing.
At least it wasn’t a romantic trip for two. Since Kerim had extended the offer to everyone, most of the crew was going, other than Mort and Dr. Hughes.
Now that they’d been at sea for an hour, Stuart should have been able to unwind. Kerim’s boat was the perfect size for a daylong outing—a forty-two-foot Fisher sailboat with ample deck space and a couple of cozy cabins below. Beneath them, the sea glimmered turquoise in the sunlight, inviting them to jump right in. But Stuart’s nerves were on edge. How could he possibly relax when Dusty stood only a few feet away, clad in nothing but a tiny black bikini?
When she caught him staring, his cheeks heated in shame. He averted his gaze but was too late. As she strolled over to him, he tried not to ogle her breasts, barely covered by the thin strips of fabric. Instead, he focused on the familiar tattoos that graced her arms and shoulders. One shoulder bore the image of a stylized pyramid; the other, two crossed shovels. But a new one, along her upper arm, displayed an old-school compass, like the kind seen in vintage maps.
She grinned at him. “You’re staring. What is it? Is my boob slipping out of this bikini? I forgot how small it is.”
Please don’t talk about your boobs.He swallowed, painfully aware of the dryness in his throat. “Just noticing your new tattoo. I like it.”
“Thanks. I got it after Cyprus. Something to commemorate my incessant wanderlust.” She held out a bottle of sunscreen. “You want me to do the usual?”
“What?”
“Your back. Right? I know how easily you get fried in the sun. Isn’t that why you caught my eye earlier?”
No, I was staring at your body in that bikini. Like a hormonal thirteen-year-old.
“We’ve barely left the dock and you’re already turning red,” she said. “Let me do your back before it’s too late.”
“Right.” No need to reveal that his reddened face wasn’t from the sun. As Dusty spread the warm lotion over his skin, her touch sent ripples of desire through him. She took her time, kneading his back and shoulders, skimming her hands just above the waistband of his shorts. Forget swimming. He wanted to stand here all afternoon while Dusty massaged suntan lotion onto his skin.
But she pulled away with another grin. “All done. Don’t forget to reapply it after we go swimming.”
“Do…do you need me to do you? I mean, do yourback?” Clearly, today he’d be playing the part of a tongue-tied middle schooler with a giant crush.
“Nope, I’m good. Kerim already got me. But thanks.” She set the bottle down on the padded bench next to the railing and sauntered across the boat, her hips swaying enticingly as she approached Kerim.
