"Yeah well, I don't like talking about myself and I despise personal questions."
"Fine. All I want is that brain of yours for a few." She handed him a shallow Rubbermaid container of baklava.
Ash frowned. "What's this?"
"I told you. Baklava."
"And I really don't eat it, but thanks for the thought." He returned it to her.
"Your loss." She grabbed a triangle of it before she set it back on the table. "Now teach me how to read this."
Ash opened the journal again. "There are a few additional characters and diphthongs that aren't in the classical Greek you're used to. The endings and conjugations are also different."
She nodded, then pointed to a word. "Adelphianosis. Is that 'brother'?"
He was impressed by how quickly she identified the unfamiliar language. "Yes."
She frowned. "So if I'm reading this correctly, it says that her brother . . ." she pointed to the word before it. "Styxx?"
"Yes."
She shook her head in confusion. "Why is he named Styxx? That was a female goddess name."
He'd always thought it an odd choice for his brother's name too, but what the hell? No one had asked him and Ryssa's parents had never been right in the head. "And how many men are named Artemis?"
"Good point. It just seems strange to me."
"Well that's why it has the additional X at the end. It's to differentiate the masculine from the feminine forms."
"Ah, that makes sense." She looked back at the book in his lap and he felt a strange dipping sensation in his stomach. Like a punch only it was more sexual than that and it took him completely by surprise.
He didn't react to people like that.
Yet he had this sudden compulsion to lean forward and just breathe in her scent. To touch her cheek and see if it was really as soft as it appeared. Or better yet to take her hand and press it against the sudden bulge in his pants that cried out for her body. His cock tightened at the mere thought of her unzipping his pants and touching him.
Unaware of his sudden mood, she trailed her finger down the page, trying to decipher Ryssa's neatly written words. "So this is her talking about a fight with her brother?"
It took a full three seconds for those words to descend past the desire he had to kiss her. "Uh . . . yeah. Her brother was angry because she was planning to visit her aunt in Athens and she didn't want her brother to go with her because he was annoying to travel with."
Tory glanced up as she heard the deepening of Ash's voice. She couldn't tell where he was looking since he still wore those dark sunglasses. "Can you see all right?"
"Fine."
"Why don't you take the sunglasses off?"
"I see better with them on."
"Oh," she dragged the word out as she had sudden clarity. "You're one of those, aren't you?"
"Those what?"
"Vain guy who needs glasses, but doesn't want anyone to know it and you can't stand contacts so you wear prescription sunglasses instead." She rolled her eyes. "I've had several of you in my classes. Really, no one will think less of your manhood for needing glasses—that alone does not a geek make." She indicated hers by tapping a fingernail on the lens. "Look at me. I'd rather be able to see than be vain about it."
Ash hid a smile at her latest wrong conclusion about him. Without commenting, he reached for his beer and took a drink while she returned to the journal.
They sat there for over two hours as she learned his native tongue. It was so strange to hear someone else speaking it after all this time that he couldn't help but be warmed by it. There was even a part of him made homesick from the sound. It was a feeling he didn't get often since he'd had a less than desirable existence there, but then home was home.
Even a bad one.
And honestly, he liked having this connection to someone. He'd been alone for so long. Had taught himself to trust no one. Yet he found himself wanting to trust her and he didn't know why. Perhaps it was her fierce loyalty. He craved someone to be that loyal to him. If only they would . . .
"What do you mean the journal wasn't there," Costas Venduras asked as he narrowed his gaze on his underling. As members of the Atlantikoinonia—a society founded to serve the goddess Artemis—it was their sacred duty to protect anything relating to Atlantis.
George swallowed nervously before he answered. "We took all the artifacts the man had with him, but the journal wasn't in with them."
"You know what the oracle told us. Atlantis can never be uncovered. Use whatever means necessary to ensure that all the artifacts are returned to the sea or destroyed."
George nodded. "Yes, sir. As the goddess wills it, it will be done." He started to leave, then hesitated. "By the way, we think the young professor might have the journal with her in New Orleans."