Free The Forty Column Castle by Marjorie Thelen Page B

Greek. Surprise. There was no sign of TV, radio, or general
     interest in life with the innkeeper.
    Zach bent over the register. I watched as he signed Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dellinger.
     Now we were traveling under assumed names. Mr. and Mrs. was not a good sign.
    “I’d like a room of my own,” I said.
    “No,” said Zach in a low voice. “Don’t try to make a scene.” He straightened and put
     his arm around my shoulders. “You don’t think I’d let you out of my sight, do you,
     my darling Claudie?” he whispered into my ear.
    Chills pricked my spine, but it was fear not sexual excitement. The innkeeper watched
     the little display of affection. The honeymooners.
    “If you promise to be really good,” Zach said, “you’ll get a ham sandwich for dinner.”
    I gave him a thin smile and patted his cheek, figuring I might as well keep up the
     charade, if it kept the bullets from flying. I was definitely not partial to flying
     bullets.
    Zach pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and paid the innkeeper, who gave him a
     receipt and the number of our room. I smiled as pleasantly as I could under the circumstances
     to the gaunt-faced man. He must have honeymooners come by the wagonload. Zach took
     my hand which made me jump, my nerves being just about shot, but he held on tight
     and led me down the hall in pursuit of room 113.
    In spite of everything his touch reassured me because a sense of being out on a limb
     all by myself had set in. Even though I didn’t know whose side Zach was on, at least
     he had found us shelter for the night. I worried about the bed arrangement. He could
     have the floor I decided.
    “What did the man tell you? He looked Turkish but he spoke Greek. What time is dinner?”
    Zach laughed softly, almost a snort. “I didn’t exactly get the in-country report.
     I just signed us up for a room for the night and arranged for some sandwiches, which
     they’ll bring to our room along with a few Keos. For your information his Greek had
     a Turkish accent.”
    We stopped outside room 113 while Zach fiddled with the key to unlock the door.
    “Where did you learn Greek?”
    “In Greece.” He smiled down at me and pushed open the door.
    A double bed. I held back but he put his hand to my waist and pushed me in. The room
     was small with a tiny bathroom and shower. A window looked out on the road we came
     in. We were two stories up on the hillside. There was another set of rooms under us
     looking at the same scene. The double bed took up most of the narrow wall. With a
     straight back chair and a lamp on a stand beside the bed, there wasn’t much sleeping
     room for a person on the floor.
    Zach stood in front of the window and seemed to be studying the lay of the land although
     what he could see in the gathering dusk I didn’t know.
    I cleared my throat. “This is not what I had in mind for sleeping accommodations.”
    “I know,” he said, not turning around. “But it’s what we’re going with. I’m going
     out to bring in our bags and lock up the car.”
    He turned dark, inscrutable eyes on me. “Don’t try to take off. These are isolated
     mountains. It’s cold up here at night even though it’s hot down at sea level. You
     wouldn’t last long in that outfit.”
    We both looked over my shorts and tank top.
    His attitude was wearing thin. I was tired, hungry, confused, frustrated, needed a
     drink bad and was beginning not to care about anything.
    “I’m taking a shower,” I said with a look that dared him to stop me. I wasn’t concerned
     what he thought at this point. “When you bring my bag in, leave it by the bathroom
     door.”
    I went into the bathroom and slammed the door hard, sharing my pent up frustration
     with the wood door. Not that it mattered much to the door but that simple act felt
     good. I couldn’t get the instant hot water switch to work so I bathed in a trickle
     of water from the solar tank. At least the water wasn’t ice cold. Using the small