Dante nodded, and then paused briefly as if considering how to start, before saying, “Mary, my people are different.”
“Your people?” she queried uncertainly, her gaze sliding over his dark hair and olive skin. That and his accent had made her assume that he was Italian. But Indians had darker skin and black hair, they also had sharp cheekbones as he did and often referred to their tribe as their people. Tilting her head, she asked, “Are you Indian?”
“No. Atlantean.”
“Huh?” Mary peered at him blankly. “You mean from Atlanta, Georgia?”
“No,” he said with a small smile, and then reached across to take her hands gently in his. “You’ve heard of Atlantis?”
“Atlantis?” she repeated slowly. “That place that supposedly existed and sank into the ocean or something like forever ago. That Atlantis?”
“Yes.” Dante smiled as if pleased she knew that much. “That Atlantis. My ancestors were from there.”
“Riiiiight,” she said slowly. “And who told you that?”
“My grandfather Nicodemus told me.”
Mary nodded slowly, and then shook her head. Grandparents told their grandkids all sorts of delightful tales to entertain them, or to make themselves seem more interesting than they really were. Most kids grew up and realized they should take those tales with a grain of salt. Dante obviously hadn’t and still believed them. Poor schmuck, she thought.
“He told Tomasso and me all about Atlantis,” Dante went on. “About the tall buildings built from a white stone found only there. About the creeping vines that quickly grew to cover the buildings, helping to insulate them from the heat. He said that every summer they would sprout beautiful flowers, much like the flowers we call azaleas today, but larger.”
“Dante,” she said gently, “Even if Atlantis existed, your grandfather couldn’t possibly know what it looked like. No one knows if it even really existed, let alone what it looked like.”
“He does know. He lived there,” Dante countered quietly.
“Ah, sweetheart,” she murmured pityingly. “Surely you know Atlantis is supposed to have collapsed into the sea or whatever ages ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then your grandfather couldn’t possibly—”
“My people are different,” he interrupted, repeating his earlier words. “They were advanced technologically, Mary. They were isolated from the rest of the world and had created transportation before the rest of the world even came up with the wheel. And scientifically they were advanced beyond where the rest of the world is even today.”
“Dante,” she said on a sigh, trying to pull her hands free of his, but he held on.
“Please, just let me tell you,” he insisted quietly. “It will sound incredible and unbelievable and I know this, but let me just tell you anyway.”
She hesitated, but then relented and nodded, her posture relaxing. What harm could there be in letting him tell her the stories his grandfather had told him? “All right. Go ahead.”
“Thank you,” he said, his lips lifting in a charming smile.
It made Mary want to try to snatch her hands away again. He was so damned beautiful, it was almost painful to peer at him. No one should be that good-looking. Or smell this good, she thought grimly as his scent wafted to her, setting her hormones buzzing. Images from her interrupted dreams last night started sliding through her mind: him leaning over her, his naked chest so wide and beautiful, his hair dropping around their faces like a curtain as he kissed her. His hands moving over her body, pushing her T-shirt up to caress her . . .
Damn, Mary thought, bringing her wayward brain to a halt. How had she got here? Holding hands with a handsome young stud half her age or more, and lusting after him like some twenty-year-old hopped up on hormones? She was a dirty old woman!
“As I said, the people of Atlantis were far more advanced scientifically,” Dante began again, completely oblivious of her inner turmoil. “They had cures for many of the ailments we still do not have cures for today. But just before the fall of Atlantis, they had begun working with nanos.”
When he paused then and hesitated, looking uncertain, Mary guessed he was trying to decide how to explain nanos and said dryly, “I know what nanos are. Or at least enough to follow this tale.”
Dante relaxed and smiled again.