Stars of Fortune (The Guardians Trilogy 1)

Sasha shook her head. “I don’t know where that came from or what it means. We’ll find him, or he’ll find us.”

Riley turned, headed inland. The

land rose into hills and forests with bright splashes of wildflowers, a blinking flash of a small settlement. Lambs, fluffballs of white, played in olive groves. She could no longer smell the sea, but instead the warm, sunstruck green of cypress and olive.

Riley turned again, onto a spit of a road that slithered and snaked up. And though she hadn’t tried to, she felt Annika’s heart thunder.

“Are you all right?”

“It’s beautiful. The trees are so many.”

Yes, they were so many, Sasha thought, and made her think of her little house in the woods. It would be the same when she returned to it. But she wondered if she would be.

Riley pulled off into what was essentially a ditch.

“On foot from here.”

Armed with their packs, with Riley, her roughly drawn map and compass on point, they left the road, started west. Sasha found it amazing to cross a field where donkeys cropped at grass and wildflowers. So amazed she didn’t have time to worry when one walked over to her, stared.

“Hoping you have something edible to share, I wager.” Bran stopped with her, gave the donkey a scratch between his long ears.

“He has such sweet eyes. I wish I had an apple.”

“Well, let’s see.” Bran turned her around, tapped at her pack. When he turned her around again, he held out a small, glossy green apple.

“You really have to show me how to do that.”

He smiled as he took out his pocketknife, cut the apple in half. “I might be persuaded. Here, give it to him.”

“And the firsts continue. I’m feeding a donkey.”

“Then we’d best get moving before his friends come round looking for theirs.”

“I feel like Annika. It’s all so beautiful.”

They walked on, leaving the field for a rough track where brushwood of myrtle and bay tangled, and tall, slim towers of cypress speared among the olives. They passed a jumble of rocks decorated with the sturdy wildflowers that pushed their way through cracks toward the sun.

She felt that way, as if she’d pushed through barriers toward the light.

“You’re happy,” Bran commented.

“I’m hiking the hills of Greece on a gorgeous spring day. There’s so much to see. To smell,” she added, dragging her hand over a bush of wild rosemary to send its fragrance rising. “I’m not going to think about where we’re going. It’s enough just to be here.

“Why did you kiss me?”

She hadn’t meant to ask, and hadn’t been able to stop the thought from forming into words.

“Well, the usual reasons apply.”

She told herself to leave it there, leave it alone. Then thought the hell with it. “You could have kissed Riley or Annika, for the usual reasons.”

“That’s true enough, isn’t it? They’re both appealing, attractive, interesting women in their own ways. But I wasn’t inclined to kiss them. And now that you’ve got me thinking about it, I can tell you there’s no doubt I’ll be inclined again where you’re concerned.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, she wasn’t sure whether to be amused, insulted, or a little afraid.

“Don’t you have someone back in Ireland, or New York?”

“I do, of course. But not the way you mean. I’ve friends on both sides of the ocean, and family as well. But no woman waiting for me to sail home again. If there were, I’d never have put my hands on you, and certainly wouldn’t take you to bed.”