Page 59 of Love In Translation

Shit, what was he supposed to do about her?

It was far easier to think and talk about his career.

“I’m not sure what to do,” he told Seb after explaining the offer he’d received to do the shorter but still brutal scientific expeditions. “It’s three to four months in very inhospitable places. Or I could give it a miss and go back to doing long-ass expeditions, sticking to my brand.”

Seb played with his pen. “If not Danakil, do you have something in mind?”

“Maybe something along the lines of conquering the ten highest mountains, putting a deadline on it so that we race the clock?” Fletch tried to ignore the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. “Or we could explore North Africa, cross some deserts.”

Seb grimaced. “I’m not a fan of dust and heat.”

Neither was he, to be fair. But you couldn’t avoid the places you didn’t like if you wanted to explore every inch of the planet.

“Nims Parja climbed the fourteen highest peaks in six months, so your expedition might be anticlimactic.”

“Nims is unbelievable. Part machine, part mountain goat,” Fletch replied. “He’s a specialist climber. I’m not.”

“I’m voting for the Lazarus expeditions. It might be interesting to do something different, and I know the crew would enjoy shorter stints away.”

“Mmm-hmm, Gavin told me told me his new wife wants him home more often than not.” Fletch didn’t want to lose Gavin—he was a great cameraman and one of the few who could keep up with him.

“Damned wives,” Seb said, smiling. “How rude to expect their husbands to spend time at home. Luckily, I’m divorced and the rest of us are single.”

Fletch thought about Rheo, hating the thought of spending the best part of a year away from her. Sure, he had a sat phone and could occasionally video-call, but not being able to hold her, see her smile, hear her laughter—make love to her—for months on end wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate.

Dammit, how and why had his brief affair turned into something more, something deeper, and...well,necessary?

He couldn’t, for one minute, imagine giving up his work—it meant everything to him—but he didn’t want to be apart from Rheo for long stretches either.

He wanted to come home to Rheo.

Shit, this wasn’t part of the plan...

Seb’s office manager popped her head around the door and asked Seb if he could take a call, and Fletch waved him on. He needed a couple of minutes alone to get his wayward thoughts under control. What the hell was he thinking?

Washe thinking?

Seb’s call was short, and within a few minutes he was back. “Where were we? Oh, talking about relationships.”

Yeah...

“Our careers are hell on the people we love, aren’t they?” Fletch quietly asked, leaning forward and linking his hands between his legs.

Seb had gotten divorced eight years ago, partly because he spent months in the jungle or on ice with Fletch, partly because his wife couldn’t cope with the loneliness and cheated on him with his best friend.

Seb nodded, his expression somber. “We’ve watched more than a few relationships fall apart because of what we do, who we are. We can’t be at home, they can’t cope with us not being home, and it all gets messy.”

Fletch hated being confined more than most. His crew didn’t have the same issues around staying in one place as he did. They loved the freedom, loved the challenges, loved what they did, but his need not to be confined was more of a compulsion than a desire to see what was around the next corner.

He had to be able to leave, and what woman would tolerate him routinely walking out the door? It was why he avoided relationships, why he skimmed through life, not allowing his emotions to attend the party.

And wasn’t it funny that the one woman who’d tempted him was the last woman he should have fallen for, someone who craved stability more than Buddhist monks craved enlightenment? He and Rheo were so different, poles apart in every way. He loved the outdoors, and while she didn’t hate it anymore, she wasn’t ever going to be a “let’s go hiking and camping” type. She craved stability and security; he thought they were vastly overrated. She was into languages and literature; he read biographies and books on travel expeditions. He needed to see what he could find around the next corner. She didn’t.

But she made him laugh and she made him think. And God, she made him burn. Rheo could walk into a room and a million tiny fireworks exploded in his stomach, while at the same time, his heart sighed and settled, at ease and happy. She was the person he most wanted to spend time with...

But it would never work, not in the long term.

If they wanted more than this step out of time, this hot affair, then one of them would have to make enormous compromises for them to be together. He would have to try and fit into her nine-to-five world, and it would kill him. Or she could give up a job she loved and travel with him to far-flung places, hanging around in strange towns, waiting for him to walk off a mountain or out of a jungle. That wasn’t Rheo. She liked her job. She liked having a base, a home.

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