The Five-Day Dig Read Online Free PDF

get past her boss blowing off her talk. Finally, she forced herself to smirk. “ Maybe Dr. Farber had a meeting with Domenico Rentino. Development vincit omnia , after all.”
    Chaz laughed and slid her a mischievous look. “I’ve been meaning to ask: Have you had much chance to ‘use your feminine wiles’ on Signore Rentino?”
    She almost spit out a mouthful of wine. “None at all. And, believe me, I’m aware how ridiculous it was – on so many levels – for Dr. Farber to ask that of me. How ironic that the one skill he credits me with is so far removed from anything I can actually do.”
    “You’re too modest. The suggestion may have been tactless, bordering on harassment, but I saw the way the signore looked at you at the Welcome Reception – the lingering gaze, the glint in his eye. You had him eating out of the palm of your hand.”
    She snorted. “He’s Italian, Chaz. And, as an Italian guy told me my first time in the country, gli uomini italiani hanno il fuoco .”
    “An Italian used that line on you? And you were fourteen the last time you were here?” He rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. If only we Englishmen ‘had the fire.’ ”
    “Oh, I think you have plenty of it.” On hearing her own playful words, she almost clapped her hand over her mouth. Why on earth was she discussing libido with one of her grad students?
    He laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    She looked into her glass, searching her mind for a change of subject. After a long couple of seconds, she asked, “Do you think it’s true that a temple complex is buried under Rentino’s estate?”
    He shrugged. “Dr. Farber’s been grilling everyone at the conference about it, and from what he says, those who have worked in the area seem to think it’s an important site, perhaps rivaling the ancient villas around Pompeii . Needless to say, he’s itching to excavate.”
    “Along with every other archaeologist here.” She surveyed the crowd. “The local ones have probably been trying to wear Rentino down for years. I get the feeling he’s pretty protective of his ruins.”
    “The buzz is that he won’t even talk about the site. Some of the locals even think he’s hiding something.”
    “Yet he’s here at an archaeological conference. Could that be a sign he’s loosening up?” She felt a stir of curiosity. “Maybe I should be making more effort to track him down and schmooze him.”
    “You’d have an edge over Dr. Farber.” He grinned at her.
    A flush of warmth made her look away. “Hardly. But exploring a temple complex would be a coup for your dissertation, wouldn’t it? What deity was the temple on Rentino’s estate dedicated to?”
    “No one seems to know. Apparently, the sole attempt at excavation in the 1960s ended prematurely with some kind of catastrophe – a collapse or something.”
    “Really? Bracing methods have improved since then, but a project at an unstable site would be expensive, and funding is a problem for us.” She tapped her chin. “Well, if I can find Rentino, I could at least ask him if we can tour the estate before we leave Italy . You don’t see him here, do you?”
      They both looked around. At that moment, two long-haired, dark-eyed female students in short dresses passed the table, giggling to each other. Not surprisingly, his gaze followed them. “No, but I do see a few hotties.”
    “Italian girls are well acquainted with fending off hot-blooded men, Chaz,” Winnie teased him. “You don’t stand a chance.”
    He gave her a look of mock offense. “You just work on getting that tour from Rentino, and I’ll worry about the female population.”
    She laughed. “ Touché .”
    He looked past her, and his eyes opened wider. “There he is now, coming this way.”
    She turned around and saw the Italian walking with a second middle-aged man, although age was where the similarities between them stopped. Rentino embodied that Italian concept of deportment and style summed up