Digging Deeper

Digging Deeper

Barbara Elsborg

Archaeologist Beck isn’t expecting much to come out of this summer’s dig. While his colleague spends the summer in Italy, Beck draws the short straw supervising a group of archaeology students excavating on the grounds of Hartington Hall in Yorkshire. Little does Beck realize when he saves a redhead from the attentions of an amorous ram, that this accident-prone female will throw his ordered life into chaos.

The last thing Flick needs in her life is a digger, because some secrets are meant to stay buried. Very deep. But Beck is irresistible. She’d love to get him into bed, though after the incident at the swimming pool, the collapsing wall, the snake bite and the unexploded bomb—a hospital bed looks more likely. As their relationship lurches from one disaster to another, Beck has to delve deep to get to the bottom of this irrepressible redhead.

One thing is clear—you never know quite what you’re going to find when you start digging.

D
IGGING
D
EEPER

Barbara Elsborg

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Corporation

Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

BMW Z4: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Company

Calvin Klein: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust

Cat Woman: DC comics Inc.

Cointreau: Cointreau Corporation

Dictaphone: Dictaphone Corporation New York

Drambuie: Drambuie Liqueur Company Ltd.

eBay: eBay Inc Corporation

Ferrari: Ferrari S.P.A. Joint Stock Company

Frisbee: Wham-O Inc. Corporation

Gap: Gap (Apparel), LLC Ltd. Liab. Co.

Harvey Nick’s: Harvey Nichols and Company Limited

Ikea: Inter-Ikea Systems B.V. Corporation Netherlands

Indiana Jones: Lucasfilm Ltd.

iPod: Apple Inc. Corporation

James Bond: DANJAQ S.A. Corporation

Jimmy Choo: J. Choo Limited Co.

Ken: Mattel, Inc.

La Perla: La Perla S.R.L. Ltd Liab Co.

Lada: Satra Motors Inc.

Land Rover: Land Rover Company UK

Lexus: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Toyota Motor Corporation

Louis Vuitton: Louis Vuitton Malletier Société Anonyme

Manchester United: Manchester United Ltd.

Marmite: Marmite Food Extract Co., Ltd.

Mercedes: DaimlerChrysler AG Corporation

Missoni: Missoni SPA Joint Stock Co.

Nicole Farhi: Steven Marks London Limited

Prada: Prada SA Corporation

Ralph Lauren: PRL USA Holdings, Inc.

Rolex: Rolex Watch USA Inc.

Royal Doulton: Doulton and Co., Ltd.

Royal Mail: Royal Mail Group Limited

Tesco: Tesco Stores Limited

Timberland: Timberland Company

Versace: Gianni Versace S.P.A. Corporation

Veuve Clicquot: Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin

Wedgwood: Wedgwood Public Limited Company

Wii: Nintendo of America Inc.

Cursing under her breath, Flick dropped to her knees in front of a rose bush and leaned forward to check for greenfly. She’d be shocked if she found any. The damn things wouldn’t dare land in this garden, but she’d had her orders. Perfect roses only. Flick gently turned a bud in her fingers and something cold and wet nuzzled up the back of her skirt. She shrieked and thrust out her hands as she lurched forward. Flick managed to save her face from kissing the soil but not the rose head she’d been inspecting. Flick looked back at her assailant and gave a nervous laugh.

“Where did you come from?”

“Baaaa.”

“Ah, Baaamuda? Or maybe Baaarhain? Baaanstaple?” She was on a roll now. “Baaali? Baaatth?”

The sheep stared at her as though she were a complete idiot, then turned to the nearest bush and wrapped its lips around one of Celia Hartington’s special white roses.

Flick sprang to her feet. “Nooooo. Naughty sheep. Shoo, shoo.”

She flapped her arms to try to encourage it to gambol toward the field at the bottom of the garden, but her gesturing had the opposite effect and the animal took a few steps in her direction. Flick took several steps back.

“Go away,” she pleaded.

Dark demon eyes looked at her in defiance, the mouth went “baaaaa” and another white rose disappeared. Flick winced and then glared at the culprit.

“Want to be shorn like a poodle? Shorn by a beginner? Or maybe by an old geezer with Parkinson’s? Using dull shears?”

Another white rose vanished.

“No! Eat the bloody red ones, can’t you?”

She stamped her foot, an ineffectual gesture considering she wore delicate strappy sandals and stood on grass. Furthermore, the sheep seemed to take it as a challenge. It banged its hoof on the grass and charged. Flick fled.

———

Alexander Beckett had moved the Yorkshire University Archaeology Department’s minivan to the rear of Hartington Hall at Celia’s request. She’d made her disappointment at the state of the vehicle quite clear. She wanted everyone to know an important dig was about to take place on her property and a rusty minivan looking as though it had barely survived a ram-raid by a tank was not the image she’d been hoping for.

Earlier that morning in the university car park, the van had stood next to its twin; same age, make and color, same logo on the side, but there the resemblance ended. One vehicle deserved to be on the road, while the van Beck had drawn on a coin toss looked as though it needed to be buried in a junkyard. His colleague, Rich Foster, had smirked and commandeered the smarter vehicle, complete with the best of the archaeology department’s field equipment and five flexible, female undergraduates. In Beck’s view, Rich was now over-compensated for having to drive all the way to Italy.

As Beck strolled to the front of Hartington Hall he saw Celia standing with her hands on her generous hips, watching a drama unfold on her lawn. A tall, spiky-haired figure in a bright pink skirt appeared to be dancing with a sheep. The sheep took several steps forward and the redhead stepped back. A move to the side was copied too. Beck looked more closely and realized the sheep had something in its mouth. Was that a white rose? The tango, Beck thought and laughed. The redhead advanced and the sheep backed up. There was a bit of foot stamping from each of them. He grinned. The redhead’s legs were very long and the skirt was very short.

“For goodness sakes. What does she think she’s doing?” Celia crossed her arms. “Felicity, stop playing with the sheep.”

The dance came to an abrupt halt as the four-legged lover decided to pursue his intended with more vigor. The redhead squealed as she sprinted around the lawn, changing direction each time the sheep looked as if he might be catching up.

“Is that really a rose in its mouth?” Beck asked.

“It appears to be one of my special roses.” Celia waved her hand in the air. “Felicity, stop this at once.”

Flick felt caught in some surreal nightmare, being chased by a manic sheep with a rose clenched between its teeth. Substitute gorgeous hunk for sheep and Flick would have stopped running, but with no gorgeous hunk in sight, she kept going. Adding to her distress, she’d spotted a peculiar gleam in this creature’s eyes, which made her think romance was not foremost in its mind. But if she was wrong and it was, she needed to run faster.

She leaped over the rose bushes and shot to the left. The sheep followed. Its breath hit the back of her knees. She’d always thought of sheep as gentle, rather timid balls of fluff, but this one seemed to be under the misapprehension that it was a raging bull. Even worse, it had enough brains to sense her fear and enough cunning to act on it.

Somewhere in the periphery of her vision, Flick knew she had an audience. She could hear Lady C shouting and a man laughing. It didn’t sound like Lady C’s husband, Henry. Flick vaulted over a shrub and whizzed around a stone bird bath. The sheep went straight through the shrub and sent the stone bath flying off its pedestal. Flick heard more laughter, glanced toward the house and in that moment’s lapse of concentration, the sheep finally made contact. She cried out as it butted the back of her knees and sent her sprawling. Then it jumped on her back and stayed there.

Ouch.

“Get off, you fat lump,” she gasped.

Flick heard clapping and looked up in indignation to see a man running down onto the lawn. He clapped harder and yelled at the sheep, which fled. Of course it did. He was a man.

“Are you all right?”

What sort of stupid question was that? Flick spat grass out of her mouth. She’d been flattened by a mad sheep, would no doubt sport a hoof-marked back for months, and he asked if she was all right. Idiot. Flick sat up and looked at him, and every emotion but one rushed out of her at supersonic speed. Hovering over her was the most delicious man she’d ever seen.

“Yes, fine, thank you,” she whimpered.

He held out his hand. As their palms touched, a bolt flashed down her arm and through her body. Air rushed out of her lungs. He struggled to pull her upright. Not one of her muscles worked. He wasn’t just dark-eyed and mouthwateringly handsome, but inches taller than her, a huge plus because she was a skyscraper. His hair was straight and dark, almost longer than hers, and he was absolutely, completely and utterly, gorgeous. On the downside, he didn’t seem to be interested in her face, but stared at her hand in bewilderment, as though it was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen. Why, she wondered, then realized she still held on to him. Flick tried to let go and couldn’t. Then she grasped it wasn’t her, but him. He was holding on to her.

“So you’re the reason I’m here,” he said.

“What?” Flick croaked. “Are you the police?”

From the shocked look on his face and the way he loosened his grip a little, she knew she’d got that wrong.

“You found the fragment of Samian ware.” He stared at her, his face wrinkling in curiosity. “How did you know what it was?”

Celia panted to their side. “Can’t you do anything right, Felicity? I only asked you to cut a few roses, not terrorize our sheep.”

Celia tugged at the man’s elbow, and he finally released Flick’s hand. She watched as Celia led him away. He turned and gave her a rueful grin. The face had almost stopped her heart, so what about the rest of him? Not fat, nor thin, just right. A creased white linen shirt hung outside his chinos at one side. Fabulous butt. Narrow hips. Flick lost herself in the moment. And was distracted. A second later, she’d fallen back on her knees and a persistent nose pushed its way between her legs.

After Beck escaped from Celia, he unloaded all his equipment and stacked it in one of the garages at the Hall. He needed the van empty so he could collect his five students and take them to the house they’d share for the next month. He’d have liked to go and have a word with the redhead and take another look into her fabulous eyes. He especially wanted to ask her why she thought he was the police, but he didn’t have time. Beck drove to Ilkley station, trying to work up some enthusiasm for the month-long dig.

Earlier that morning he and Rich had stood watching five pert bottoms climb into the Italy-bound minivan. His colleague’s smile had been so wide, Beck thought he was in danger of splitting his face.

“Aren’t you jealous?” he’d murmured in Beck’s ear.

“No, because I want to keep my job, and you’ll wear yourself out,” Beck replied.

“And what a way to go. Cheer up. The delectable Dina’s in your group.”

That hadn’t made Beck feel better. Dina was persistent and determined about entirely the wrong things.