‘I am such a geek.’ The young woman looked mortified. ‘I bet you get this all the time.’

‘Actually, no. Usually only at book signings. Most people don’t recognize me.’

‘Your picture is right on the back of the book. How can they not know who you are?’ She took the volume from Lourds and flipped it over to reveal the colour photograph of him on the back.

It was a good picture and Lourds knew it. In it, he stood in front of a dig site in Cadiz, Spain, where Atlantis had been lost and found and then lost again. He’d written a book on that discovery and it had become a bestseller as well. But Bedroom Pursuits stayed at the top of the lists.

In the picture, Lourds wore khaki trousers, hiking boots, an olive drab khaki shirt left open to show the white T-shirt beneath, and his beloved Australian outback hat. He had that hat on right now. In the picture, his sunglasses hung nonchalantly from his T-shirt collar, he leaned casually on a shovel and the mouth of a cave yawned in the stone wall behind him. His black hair was longish, a couple of weeks overdue for the barber, and hung down slightly in his face. He sported a short-cropped goatee. Except for the outfit, he hadn’t changed much since the picture was taken. He knew he looked at least ten years younger than his true age. It had its uses. Especially when he was interested in younger women.

‘Believe it or not,’ Lourds said ruefully, ‘most people don’t even read the author’s name on a book. And fewer still remember the author’s face. Meetings like this are something that usually only happen to rock stars and actors.’

‘Well, you are the first author I’ve chased down.’

‘I’m glad you did. But you have me at a disadvantage.’ Lourds held the pen poised over the title page in the book. ‘Who should I make this out to?’

‘Kristine. Kristine Webber. With a K.’

‘For Kristine,’ Lourds said as he wrote, ‘an autograph in exchange for that enchanting smile. I do hope you don’t feel cheated.’ He blew on the page to dry the ink, then handed the pen back.

‘No way. This is going to be the highlight of my trip to Istanbul.’ Kristine hugged the book for a moment before putting it back in the bag.

‘I sincerely hope that’s not true,’ Lourds said.

‘Sad to say, it is.’

Lourds shook his head in disbelief. ‘Istanbul is a fabulous place. Did you know it’s the only city in the world that spans two continents?’

‘Really?’ she said.

‘It’s amazing. I can’t imagine being bored here.’ Lourds glanced at his watch. ‘Do you have luggage?’

‘Oh my God, I forgot.’ Panic widened Kristine’s eyes. ‘Where should I go?’

‘Since I’ve been here a few times, maybe I can help you find the baggage carousel. Which airline did you come in on?’

‘British Airways. Same as you.’

‘Good. We can chat on the way.’ Lourds nodded to the sign indicating the direction of the baggage carousel in three languages. He could read them all fluently. He took the lead and they set off.

‘What brings you to Istanbul?’ Lourds rode the escalator down to the terminal’s lower floor. Kristine Webber stood at his side. Her perfume was intoxicating. It, or perhaps the wine he’d consumed on the plane, made his head spin.

‘My father’s got meetings here,’ Kristine replied. ‘He’s an international investor.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s here working on some kind of corporate merger and wanted me to spend time with him.’

‘That sounds nice.’

‘Usually he spends more time on the phone working at his business than with me. I end up ordering a lot of room service and catching up on movies.’

‘Sorry to hear it.’

At the bottom of the escalator, Lourds got his bearings and walked towards the British Airways carousel. A crowd waited patiently but the warning lights weren’t flashing. None of the luggage had yet arrived.

‘You should take time to see the city,’ Lourds said.

‘I don’t like the idea of wandering around alone.’

‘You don’t know anyone here?’

‘Nope. Like I told you, meeting you is going to be the highlight of this trip. I’m going to be stranded at the hotel looking out through the window at a city I’ve never been to.’

Lourds hesitated just a moment, then took the plunge. He and Dr Olympia Adnan, the woman he’d come here to meet, had once been close, but that had been a handful of years ago. The last he’d heard, when she’d called him back in January, Olympia had mentioned being involved with a Belgian archaeologist. So Olympia wouldn’t be available to fill all the long evenings he’d be spending here. Perhaps he’d just found a nice diversion.

‘I could show you the city,’ Lourds said, ‘if you’re interested. It’s the fourth largest city in the world, and people have been living here continuously since 6500 BC – that’s nearly nine thousand years. Its first known name, Byzantium, still rings throughout human language. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site. You really shouldn’t miss it.

‘Do you offer to guide often, Professor Lourds?’

‘No.’ Often was such a subjective word.

‘Will I be in good hands?’ she asked.

‘Most definitely.’ Lourds smiled and felt his anticipation rise. ‘There’s a lot to see in this city, and it would be my pleasure to escort you when you have time.’

‘I’d like that.’

‘Good. Now, if you’ll just point out your bags, I’d be happy to fetch them for you.’

‘There’s only one. I had the rest of my things sent to the hotel. I refuse to be stripped naked if my luggage gets lost.’

That delightful image ricocheted through Lourds’ mind and he had to force himself to look for the bags.

‘Are you here on vacation?’ Kristine asked.

Lourds paced beside the young man wheeling the luggage towards the cab and limousine stands. The professor carried his backpack because he never willingly let it leave his side. His work and his computer were in that backpack.

One of his suitcases was crammed with books, and the porter had struggled with it. When it came to research interfaces, Lourds still preferred printed matter he could depend on when electrical outlets weren’t plentiful.

‘More of a working vacation,’ Lourds said.

Kristine sighed. ‘So much for promises of taking me sightseeing through a beautiful city.’

‘Don’t confuse me with your workaholic father,’ Lourds objected. ‘I take my play time just as seriously as I do my work time.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. What are you going to be working on while you’re here?’

‘A…’ Lourds hesitated over how to address his relationship with Olympia Adnan, ‘colleague of mine has invited me to speak to her graduate classes at Istanbul University.’

‘About Bedroom Pursuits?’

‘No. About more serious matters. There are some items the Rare Masterpieces and Museum Department of the Central Library have that she’d like me to lecture on.’

‘Will there be a test?’

‘God, I hope not.’ Lourds grinned. ‘If there is, the students will hate me. Hopefully I’ll be able to lead informal discussions that will inspire them.’ He held up a thumb and forefinger. ‘A little.’

‘They’re going to want to talk to you about your book.’

‘Books,’ Lourds corrected. ‘You’re probably right.’ Nearly everywhere he went, the topic of Bedroom Pursuits invariably came up.

‘Are these items you’re looking at a big deal?’ Kristine asked.

‘I hope so. Most of them have never been studied by American scholars,’ Lourds replied. ‘I’m going to be the first. I’m really excited about it.’

He stopped at the curb and glanced out over the sea of vehicles threading through the terminal streets. His nose and eyes burned from the noxious exhaust.

‘Are you going to be in another television special about the artefacts? I saw the ones you did in Egypt and in Spain. The whole “Race to Atlantis” thing.’

Memories flooded Lourds’ mind. Though he’d seen many things and been part of some wondrous discoveries in his professional career, nothing he’d been through before or since could match the pursuit of the lost Atlantis. It had fascinated, terrified, and very nearly killed him. Now… well, now he found he missed being on the hunt.