Youâre much too intelligent to be a garbage collector.â She looked into his strong tan face and his intense green eyes. âOh well, I wonât hold your occupation against you. Have you been promoted to sergeant yet?â
âNo. Iâve never been a sergeant.â
Suddenly a bright flash in the rocks about two hundred feet away caught Pittâs attention. A shiny object reflected the sunâs rays for a brief instant. He watched the area where the glint had shown but could detect no further flash or movement.
Teri felt him tense. âIs something the matter?â she asked.
âNo, nothing,â Pitt lied. âI thought I saw something floating in the water, but itâs disappeared now.â He looked at her upraised face, and his eyes turned devilish. âWell Iâd better be getting back to the base, Iâve got a lot of garbage to collect.â
âI should return also. My uncle will probably wonder what happened to me.â
âAre you going to tell him?â
âDonât be silly,â she laughed. She stood up and brushed the sand from her body and adjusted the bikini.
Pitt smiled, getting to his feet. âWhy is it women always seem so shy and demure before theyâve been laid yet so sparkling and carefree after?â
She shrugged lightheartedly. âI guess itâs because sex releases all our frustrations and makes us feel earthy.â Her brown eyes flashed with intensity. âYou see, we women have animal instincts too.â
Pitt playfully slapped her on the buttocks. âCome on, Iâll walk you home.â
âYouâve got a long walk. My uncleâs villa is in the mountains behind Liminas.â
âWhere are the mountains and where is Liminas?â
âLiminas is a small village about six miles up the road,â she said, pointing north. âBut I donât understand what you mean by asking about the mountains.â Her pointing hand swung toward the inland slopes a mile behind the road. âWhat do you call those?â
âIn California, where I come from, we call anything under three thousand feet of elevation hills.â
âYou Yanks are always bragging.â
âItâs a great American pastime.â
They leisurely walked up the path from the cove. On the shoulder, off to one side of the blacktop, sat a sporty little open-top Mini Cooper. The British racing green paint on the tiny car was barely visible beneath an outer coating of Thasos dust.
âHow do you like my smashing Grand Prix racing car?â Teri asked proudly.
Pitt laughed; not so much at her exaggerated statement but rather the British use of the word smashing in reference to a car. âBy jove, thatâs a bit of all right,â he said, mimicking her native terminology. âIs it yours?â
âYes, I purchased it new in London just last month and drove it all the way from Le Havre.â
âHow long will you be staying with your uncle?â
âI took a three month holiday so Iâll be here at least another six weeks. Then Iâm going to return home by boat. The drive across the continent was fun but far too tiring.â
Pitt opened the door for her, and she slid behind the steering wheel. She groped under the front seat for a moment and pulled out a set of keys. She inserted one in the ignition and started the engine. The exhaust coughed once and then blasted forth with a nasty little growl.
He leaned on the dusty door and lightly kissed her. âI hope your uncle wonât be waiting for me with a shotgun.â
âDonât worry, heâll probably talk your arm off. He likes Air Force men. He was a flyer in the First World War.â
âDonât tell me,â Pitt said sarcastically. âI bet he claims to have flown with Richthofen.â
âOh no, he was never in France. He fought right here in Greece.â
Pittâs sarcasm vanished and a cold, eerie