And why not? This man with the sexy eyes and healthy laugh attracted her. Mercurial in his spirits, he appeared willing to take chances. Just the way she remembered her father. And Alan. But she wondered why he was here risking his life for a bunch of total strangers. Even Alan wouldn't have done that.
"You know, Mike Vance, I have to tell you, you don't look much like a commando."
"You know what I mean. For that matter, you don't look like the guys who came and installed our wonderful security system. I'd like to know your real story."
"How are retired archaeologists supposed to look? But I wasn't good enough at it, or maybe I was too good at it--I'm not sure which--and as a result I ended up doing what I really wanted to for a living. Running a sailboat business." He looked her over. "You seem to like what you're doing, too. And from what I've seen, I'd say Bill's getting a bargain, no matter what he's paying you."
She laughed. "I'd say you're an even better bargain. He's getting you for free."
"Freebies are only a deal if they pan out." He lifted their steaks out of the microwave and flipped them onto the grill. They immediately sizzled deliciously, a sound he had loved since he was a child growing up in Pennsylvania. It all mingled together with the scent of trees and summer.
"God, those smell great." She came over to take a look. "I think the aroma is giving me some backbone. There's nothing like the smell of grease."
"I figured you'd come around." He patted her chastely on the back, half imagining it was farther down, then lifted one of the steaks to see how they were going. Well. Just like his spirits.
But now she was moving off again into a space of her own. She scrutinized his weathered face, feeling a little hopeful that maybe, finally, she had run across somebody like Alan. Though she still hardly knew a damned thing about him.
"With people I meet for the first time, I like to play a little game," she said finally. "It's always interesting to try and guess. What are they really like? Does character show?"
"What happens if you guess right?" He nudged a steak. "Do you own their soul? Like some primitive tribes think a photograph captures their spirit?"
"Guess you'll have to find out, won't you?" She checked him over again.