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to push his wheelchair around the dig site. Mmrowr.”
    â€œI thought you were married,” I said with a smile before turning to look where she had nodded.
    â€œMarried, but not dead. Damn, but he’s a fine, fine sight.”
    The producer, Roger d’Aspry, stood with a man who sat on a bright blue motorized scooter. I couldn’t seemuch of the man until I moved to the side a couple of steps, and then it took me a moment to be able to speak. “Wow.”
    â€œGlad I’m not the only one to have that reaction. I wonder if he needs help bathing.”
    With an effort, I managed to drag my eyes from the man on the scooter to look askance at Daria.
    She giggled, and nudged me with her elbow. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t offer to help him bathe if he asked you.”
    Unbidden, my eyes returned to the man who was at that moment swinging a leg in a bright pink cast with Velcro straps around it so he could get to his feet. He towered over Roger, which meant he must have been well over six feet, with impressively broad shoulders, the tops of which were brushed by straight dark brown hair. His skin was the color of milky coffee, and although he was in profile to me, I could see he had a softly squared chin. All that, combined with a natural grace evident despite his having to clunk around in a walking cast, meant he really was worth looking at.
    But I was not in the market for a romantic entanglement, I reminded myself. I had a job to do, an important job, and nothing could distract me from that.
    â€œI don’t know that I’d offer to give him a bath,” I said slowly, trying hard to pretend that I wasn’t, at that moment, thinking a number of lascivious thoughts, “but I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”
    It was Daria’s turn to stare at me.
    â€œSorry. Idiom. Might be too American to be known here.”
    She made a face. “Hardly. Our version is ‘I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for farting.’ Yours is nicer.”
    â€œWhat’s he doing here?” I asked, unable to quell mycuriosity. “Just making sure no one harms the castle grounds?”
    â€œFar from it—he has a degree in archaeology, although evidently he didn’t pursue it. He’s here to lend a hand, so far as he can, or so I gather from what Sue said about him. Frankly, I don’t care why he’s interested in helping. I’m just happy he is.”
    There was a note of sly cunning in her voice that I chose to ignore, telling myself that what Daria did in private was her own business.
    Besides, this man was way out of my league, and that was good as far as I was concerned. Men who looked like him not only had giant egos; they also had to beat women away with a stick. Big, gawky women like me probably didn’t even enter his sphere of notice, not that I’d want to be noticed by a handsome egomaniac. “I suppose I should go see to unpacking the rest of my stuff. I dashed out before I finished because I was so excited. Oh, speaking of excited—I was told that I should be at a staff meeting this afternoon. Do you know exactly when it is?”
    â€œAfter lunch.” Daria hadn’t taken her eyes off Roger and the baron’s brother, who were slowly meandering toward the line of RVs. “I think I’ll just go over to Roger and say hello, and remind him that I’ve worked with him before.”
    â€œSubtle,” I called after her, smiling at her thumbs-up gesture in response.

Chapter 4
    T he smile stayed with me until I reached the tent that had been assigned to me. The archaeology folk’s temporary housing consisted of standard camping fare—orange and white domelike tents with little screened windows, and a large matching screened opening with an inner flap for privacy—while the film team were arrayed in fancy RVs bearing the name of the network.
    I was in the middle of