Summer Lightning Read Free

tried to read. She tried to doze. But she was far too vividly aware, in every nerve, of her irritating neighbor to do either.
    I detest him, she told herself. But just then the stewardess brought them their meals on plastic trays. Professor Vining abandoned his work, and laid himself out to be agreeable. He explained in detail what she must see and do in Malta. He was attentive, courteous, companionable. She found herself capitulating without a struggle.
    At long last the warning “Fasten Your Safety Belts,” flashed in red at the end of the plane.
    “If your ears hurt as we go down, clench your teeth and swallow hard,” Dominic Vining advised Chloe.
    She surprised him by a little spurt of laughter. His black brows shot up.
    “Even though you’re going to send me back, I’m excited,” she explained. “New places, new people, things happening always excite me. A sort of champagne feeling.”
    Had she been looking at him then, she might have detected a flash of something not unlike regret in his eyes.
    Guided by its winking red light they came down at Luqa airport, in Malta, some time after midnight.
    In the darkness it was much like any other airport, except that not far off there was an enormous baroque church outlined in lights, above which fireworks exploded in golden geysers and fountains and stars, and gave off formidable bangs.
    “It’s a religious festa ,” Professor Vining explained. “You’ll soon discover that in Malta religion is the butter on the dry bread of everyday life. Nearly every date in the calendar is its patron saint’s day for some Maltese village. Which mean a festa with street decorations, processions of priests with parasols and holy images, flower heads strewn underfoot, music and above all, fireworks and petards.”
    A rocket exploded loudly into a white puffball overhead as he spoke, making her jump nervously.
    “They fire them from the rooftops to scare away the devil,” her mentor told her with a grin. “After a bit you won’t even notice them.”
    Very likely, since I won’t be here, she thought wryly. A pang that really hurt told her how desperately she wanted to stay.
    They separated for the customs formalities. When the officials were through with her, she found that he had vanished.
    He reappeared almost at once.
    “Ah, here you are. All clear?”
    “I think so.”
    “We’d better book you in at the Felicia for what’s left of the night. I’ll drive you there and fix it. I live out at Medina, in the center of the island. I’d intended to take Fairfax out there for the night, and on to the dig, which is over in the southwest of the island, tomorrow. He would have lived in camp with the others, of course. As it is...”
    He broke off with a shrug of his shoulders.
    The color flamed in her cheeks again, but she swallowed her resentment and said coolly enough, “Thank you. I’ll go and tell them about my luggage.”
    He nodded, and watched the slim figure in its neat gray suit, and the long beautiful legs, with involuntary approval as she moved away from him.
    Pretty girl ,he was thinking. Walks well. Got poise and plenty of spirit. I like a woman with spirit. But she’s much too much of a woman to let loose on the dig. A nuisance having to send her back. It means delay—but better that than trouble later on.
    Outside, weary passengers were piling into a big bus. A small, plump, dark-skinned man whom Chloe took to be a Maltese was stowing her suitcase into the trunk of a powerful-looking car.
    “Please get in.” Professor Vining opened the door for her. When she was settled he tucked a blanket around her knees.
    “Although it’s spring, the nights are still at bit chilly. Warm enough?”
    “Yes, thanks.” Her chin was snuggled down into the collar of her big camel’s-hair traveling coat. She felt relaxed and comfortable.
    But when he got in beside her she found herself thrilling again to his nearness. In a panic she tried to laugh herself out of it.