LOST WITH YOU - Lisa Ann Verge Page 0,17
held out his bowl at the full stretch of her arm. “And yet we have a fire. I guess you’re saving fuel?”
“For when it rains, yes.” And you and I will be stuck in the tent for hours, with nothing to do but…
“Should we hang the food in the trees or something?” She dropped down near the fire, cross-legged, cradling her own bowl. “Keep it away from bears?”
“The bin you dug these out of is airtight and scent-locked.” He sat on the opposite side, putting a hot fire between them. “We’re good just keeping it buried in the stern of the canoe.”
She nodded and dipped her head to shovel the grayish dinner into her mouth. He put a spoonful in his own mouth, but tasted nothing.
“You know,” she said, leaning over her dinner, “this isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Because you’re hungry.”
“I am.” She narrowed her eyes above the rim of the bowl. “I’m starving because somebody was determined to wear me out today.”
She’d figured that out? He thought he’d been so subtle.
“How many extra miles did you push me, Dylan?”
“A few more than we needed to do.” He squinted up at the clear sky, the stars just beginning to wink against the growing darkness. “We had good weather, a smooth lake, and a fresh start. We won’t always be so lucky.”
She tilted her head in that fetching way that made him want to kiss the bend between her neck and shoulder. “So pushing me to exhaustion was just about logging as many miles as possible?”
“And milking your enthusiasm.”
“It wasn’t about making sure I could keep up with you?”
“You did.”
“And yet somehow you sound…disappointed.”
The correct word was dismayed. He wanted her here, because without her there would be no trip. But now he had to wield control over his baser instincts, a battle he felt like he was already losing. “It means you’re up for the challenge and committed to it.”
“I thought I already passed that test.”
She set her empty bowl aside and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. All he could think was, it’s not going to work, babe, trying to act like one of the guys.
He said, “It’s one thing canoeing around a lake with escape nearby. It’s another thing altogether to be stuck with me deeper in the wilderness, with no way out.”
She frowned. “Is this where you unpack the ropes and bind me up?”
His blood sizzled as he thought about the kind of pleasure they could enjoy if he could tie her wrists to the tent stakes—if she was willing.
He shifted his seat on the hard ground. “You read too many horror novels.” Too bad she didn’t read erotica.
Her lips twitched. “Right answer.”
He stilled, not sure what she was referring to.
“C’mon, Dylan,” she said, a brow rising. “You didn’t think I’d test you, too?”
He met her gaze across the flames. Maybe he was imagining what he was seeing—it wouldn’t be the first time he imagined seeing something significant in a woman’s eyes that wasn’t really there—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She was thinking it, too.
That didn’t help the situation now rising.
“You can still bail.” The words fell out of his mouth. “That’s the reason I pushed your endurance today.”
“I was under the impression it was too late to turn back.”
Hopeful thinking. “We’re only one day out.” What the hell was he doing? “We’re not fully entrenched yet.”
“You shouldn’t tempt me.”
A new rush of blood surged. Why was he reading innuendo in every word she said?
“The truth is,” she said in a voice of confession, “I don’t usually make commitments for this long.”
Commitments?
“My assignments rarely last more than a day or two. Occasionally a week. The life of a freelance writer is all about flirting with different subjects, flitting from one to the next. I never hang out in one place for long. I just talk to the guys—and it’s usually guys—until I get what I need.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “Then I’m gone.”
What were they talking about, exactly?
“But this feature for American Backroads,” she said, forging ahead, “promises to be a major coup, both in pay and in prestige. I never thought I’d snag it…so I bent my usual rules, and here we are.”
Yes. She was here for the work. That’s what she was telling him. She wasn’t here for the guy sitting across from her, thinking how much he wanted her for dinner.
“We