by Amanda Usen
Reluctantly, he eased his hand away. He’d never climbed a mountain with blue balls, and he had no desire to start today. He yawned and drifted in an aroused haze, listening to Susie banging around outside the tent. He couldn’t stay in here all day, but he couldn’t get up until he subdued his erection. Stan and Dave didn’t need another shot of his hard-on.
Susie’s ex-husband must be a total idiot. The little bit she’d told him stirred up all his protective instincts, and he wanted to right the wrong that had been done to her. With his cock. Right now. He bit back a groan as his dick throbbed again and racked his brain for a reason pursuing her was a bad idea.
Susannah Stone had two-point-four kids written all over her, and one of them was waiting back home. I wonder if she’s cooking me breakfast. They had to work together. Maybe she won’t make me look like an idiot if I give her an orgasm. No means no. Until she says yes.
He wasn’t getting anywhere. Might as well just get on with it and see what happened. He crawled out of the sack and got dressed.
From the smoky scent in the air, he assumed Stan and Dave were up, which meant there was coffee. He carefully removed the tape from the tent camera and detached it from the pole. He was glad Stan owed him a couple of favors. He and Susannah had been quiet last night. This morning? Not so much.
He tucked the camera into his pack, deliberately not thinking about what the voice-activated camera might have recorded. Get coffee. Break camp. Climb. Finally, his arousal ebbed, and he could think again.
Shit.
He’d wanted to turn this trip around, but his behavior this morning could very well have made things worse. She didn’t like sex? Every part of him knew better. His inability to resist a challenge was his greatest strength, but in this case, it was trouble. Would she hate him even more now?
He unzipped the tent and climbed out to a cold, crisp, windless day, a miracle on Mount Marion. Susannah and the guys were sitting by the fire. She kept her eyes on her cup when he approached. He poured himself some coffee and casually sat next to her, ignoring the rolling cameras. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.
Her cheeks turned pink. “Nice and toasty. Ready for breakfast?”
“You made breakfast?”
“We ate without you, lazybones.” She lifted the lid off a pot, and his mouth watered at the sight of the golden-brown crispy bits of corned beef hash with two perfectly fried eggs resting on top. Desire cranked tighter inside him. If she’d saved him some breakfast, she wasn’t holding a grudge, and she’d just done the one thing guaranteed to make him want her even more. In his few moments of sleep last night, he’d dreamed of her cooking him breakfast.
“I can’t believe you made a can of corned beef hash and two eggs look that good.”
She lifted her chin. “Eggs and hash are well within my skill set. I can cook anything.” Her dark eyes held something that looked unsettlingly like an apology. What the hell was going on here? She had no reason to feel bad.
He searched her expression. “Anything, huh? I look forward to seeing what you can do if our traps catch any rabbits.”
Wide-eyed horror replaced her pensive expression. “You’re going to murder Thumper?”
“Don’t tell me you have a problem with hunting. Somebody killed the bacon and Spam you ate last night. Not to mention that cow.” He pointed at the hash.
“I’m not going to claim it makes sense, but I’d prefer not to see anything I’m going to eat while it has fur.”
He turned to the camera. “You got that, right? America’s darling chef won’t kill what she eats.”
She popped him in the arm. “If you make a big deal out of it, I may serve you up for breakfast tomorrow. No need for bacon if we’ve got long pig.”
He grinned. “I knew there was a bloodthirsty Wild Woman in there. I’ll let you set the traps.”
She gestured up the mountain, and he was delighted to see fire in her eyes again. “Are we climbing today or not? Daylight’s burning.”
He grabbed a fork and took a bite of the hash. “Damn, that’s good. We aren’t going anywhere until I clean out this pot, pack the tent and the sled, get everybody geared up, and make you promise to cook dinner no matter what we find to eat.”
“You expect me to climb up and down a mountain and then cook dinner? What kind of a deal is that?”
“You want me to cook?”
She blanched. “No.”
He chuckled. “I’ll find some way to make it up to you, I promise. Maybe I’ll let you introduce me to the wonders of a mani-pedi in the next segment.”
“Again—what kind of a deal is that?”
He grinned around a mouthful of hash and then washed it down with coffee. “Go pack your stuff and put it in the ranger station. We’ll camp here again tonight, and I’m going to take down the tent in five minutes.”
He watched her walk away, and then realized a camera was filming him watching her. He turned his attention back to the food, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said in the tent. Unless he missed his guess, her issues with sex had more to do with her vision of herself than anything else. Yesterday made a lot more sense now that he knew her a little better. She hadn’t been trying to show him up on camera; she’d been trying to save face. She honestly didn’t see her own abilities. Sure, she knew she could cook, but he sensed she was capable of a lot more than that. Before this trip was over, he intended to prove it to her.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her carry her sleeping bag toward the ranger station, presumably to dry it out, and he grinned. Susannah was too much woman to go through life without enjoying sex. He ached to awaken her to the pleasures of her body, and he couldn’t ignore this golden opportunity to do it. He clamped down on the impulse to follow her into the tent. They had a mountain to climb. He wanted to see the look in her eyes when she reached the top almost as much as he wanted to watch her come apart in his arms.
With this new understanding between them, today was going to be a lot different than yesterday. But tonight? More of the same if he had anything to do with it.
Her sleeping bag wasn’t going to stay dry for long.
Chapter Five
Susannah pulled a deep breath all the way down to the bottom of her lungs. “Can I assume it’s easier going down?” After the first hour, her legs had loosened up and the snowshoes barely felt awkward at all, but she was getting tired. Their quick lunch of energy bars had left a lot to be desired, and she’d spent the past mile thinking about what to make for dinner with the supplies they had left. It kept her mind off the steep incline. Every so often, she’d remember what had happened in the tent this morning and her legs would turn to hot, wet noodles. Did they have any noodles? Maybe she could make spaghetti.
“Yes, it’s easier on the way down. I bet we’ll have a fast descent, but let’s not rush the whole standing-on-top-of-a-mountain part of the trip.” He took her hand and pulled her to a stop. Suddenly, she realized there was no more mountain left to climb. She stared at him in amazement. His entire face was covered by cold weather gear, but somehow she knew he was smiling. Her breath hitched in her throat.
She’d been moving in her bubble, focusing on each challenge as it presented itself, an icy stretch, low branches, falling snow, and had lost sight of the big picture. She’d climbed an entire mountain. Her knees buckled as the dizzying accomplishment sank in.
“Steady there.” Russ wrapped an arm around her waist.
“I’m good.” The air was freezing and thin, but that wasn’t why she gasped for breath. His touch made her want to press closer.
“You’re awesome—you did it.” He pushed up his glasses and tugged hers from her face. His gaze held hers, and she forgot the mountain, the cold, her tired legs and rumbling belly. All she could think about was kissing him. If you change your mind, I’ll say yes. Had he meant it?
He stepped back and called to Stan and Dave. “Make sure you get a good picture of our Wild Woman on top of one of the highe
st peaks in New York State. I want a trophy shot.”
Unlike yesterday when he’d left her in his snow dust, Donovan had been solicitous all the way up the mountain, moving low-hanging branches out of her way, showing her where and how to step, and carrying her water. She’d forgotten they were filming, and a warm glow had built inside her. It cooled as she realized why he’d been so concerned for her well-being: he wanted to look good on film.
She dug her phone out of her pocket and thrust it into his gloved hand. This wasn’t his trophy; it was hers. “Would you mind taking my picture?”
“You bet.” His indulgent tone irritated her. So what if this mountain were child’s play for him? It was a big deal for her, and she wasn’t going to let him ruin the moment. She pulled her gaitor away from her face and forced a smile for the shot.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed the phone back to her.
“You’re welcome. I hope every time you look at that picture you remember new skill sets can be learned.” His voice was soft, too low for the microphone to pick up, and his gentle gaze held sympathy.
Her stomach sank into her snowshoes as another uncomfortable reality hit home. She’d been leaving steam in her wake as she climbed the mountain because she couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him, and he felt sorry for her. Had she actually believed he was attracted to her? Her heart hollowed—she had. Oh God, I’m such an idiot. What guy wouldn’t be aroused by a woman kissing him in his sleep? He hadn’t gotten into bed with her because he wanted to be there. He’d been trying to keep her from freezing to death. Donovan hadn’t wanted to do this show at all—Rich Bergman had called in a favor. Basically, she was another charity project for him, and after what she’d shared with him about her marriage, he probably pitied her. It hadn’t felt like pity this morning, but what did she know? Nothing.
She pulled her gaitor back over her face and grabbed her shades. “I already told you what you can do with your skill set.”
His eyes narrowed, and then he nodded, settling his sunglasses into place. She pretended to listen as he pointed out the peaks of other mountains in the range. She drank water, ate another energy bar, and adjusted her layers, but her triumphant queen-of-the-mountain buzz was gone. She felt his gaze on her and hated that her heart beat faster. He took her hand, and even through their gloves, she felt heat. No—she felt the burn. The heat was all in her head.
“Ready to go?” Donovan asked.
She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Definitely.”
The wave of energy that had carried her up the mountain deserted her on the way down, but she managed to stay on her feet and pull dinner together. His rabbit traps were empty, thank God, so she made chili with the bacon fat, the rest of the onions, some peppers, ground beef, and a surprising array of spices unearthed from the ranger’s station. She supposed it couldn’t technically be called roughing it if there was a spice rack, but she couldn’t care less. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she sank down on the log in front of the fire.
Billy has a fever. Doctor?
Her heart stopped.
How high?
100.2
Worry gnawed her insides, but 100.2 wasn’t quite high enough to truly frighten her.
Probably teeth. Infant ibuprofen drops in medicine cabinet. Dosage on side. Want me to come home?
Not for teeth!
Call me if he starts pulling on his ears?
Absolutely.
She served up the chili, but couldn’t eat much with her stomach in knots. She watched the guys devour it while she waited for her phone to buzz with news of Billy.
“Seems like a good time to break out the chocolate, wouldn’t you say?” Donovan held up a bag of marshmallows and a box of graham crackers. She got the chocolate bars from her backpack and handed them over. Chocolate went down easier than chili, and when her phone didn’t ring, she finally started to relax.
The firelight cast intriguing shadows on Donovan’s cheeks and made his blond hair gleam. Inches separated them on the log, but she felt his proximity like a touch and wanted to shift closer. Charity case, remember?
When his leg brushed hers, and she had the wild urge to stroke his thigh and feel the corded muscle beneath her palm, she stood. “I’m going to turn in.”
“Dinner was great. Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re welcome.” She headed for the tent. Once inside, she changed her clothes, figuring it would be easier to do it now when she was warm and had a sugar buzz, than in the morning when she’d be cold and dying for coffee. Plus, after climbing the mountain, she felt grungy. She pulled out the travel pack of baby wipes she’d sneaked into her survival kit and improvised a bath, which made her feel a hundred times better, even though she couldn’t help but think of Donovan when she slid into the leopard-print fleece.
She climbed into her now-dry sleeping bag and zipped it. She grabbed her phone.
Billy?
Sleeping. Cool as a cucumber.
Can’t wait to get home.
Footsteps approaching the tent made her stash her phone and feign sleep. The sound of the tent zipper grated her raw nerves, and she tensed as Donovan entered. She sensed him looming over her. The sound of falling water made her ears prick. Was it raining? Impossible.
She rolled over and opened her eyes. Donovan kneeled beside her sleeping bag with an empty water bottle in his hand. “You should really be more careful, Susie. Looks like your bag is soaked again.”
She wriggled to the top of the bag to avoid the water. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I can’t let you leave this mountain believing you’re bad in bed. It would be criminal. Low self-esteem causes women to make all kinds of bad choices. You need to get over it before you marry another loser.”
Disbelief turned to anger. “Do I look like I’m desperate to be married or something? What’s this obsession with me as part of a couple? Holly said the same thing. I’m not getting married. I’m happy with my son, and I don’t need another man in my life, damn it. If I did, it would be a stable, normal, nine-to-fiver, not a man who climbs mountains, swims with sharks, and thinks I’m a charity case. I don’t need your stupid pity.”
“Pity? I don’t pity you. I think you got a raw deal with your ex, but it isn’t a sense of charity that makes me want to show you how good it could be.” His gaze grew so sharp she felt sliced wide open. “I want you. No one would ever call me stable, but I think I’m exactly what you need—tonight.”
She sat up and crawled out of her sleeping bag. “I’m sleeping in the ranger station.”
“You don’t want to sleep in the ranger station.” He caught her around the waist and dragged her against his body. “You want to sleep with me. Admit it.”
Every muscle in her body molded against his, but she couldn’t allow herself to forget the truth. When it came to powerful men like Russ Donovan, she made terrible choices. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I make decisions based on what is good for my son and me, and I don’t plan on spending even one more night with a man who doesn’t respect me. I got enough of that in my marriage.”
“What makes you think I don’t respect you?”
She’d had plenty of time to make a list on the way down the mountain. “The things you said in the elevator back at Media Life? The way you ran me ragged on the trail yesterday to make me look foolish? That whole dinner thing last night? And the way you moved every branch out of my path today, like I couldn’t manage to step over them? I’m not as helpless as you think.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was being nice.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“So you don’t like it when I push you, and you don’t like it when I don’t. Make up your mind.”
Her simmering anger erupted into a full boil, and she pushed against his chest. “Men like you enjoy making women feel weak, and I’m sick of it.”
His arm tightened around her waist. “There is only one very specific instance in which a man like me enjoys m
aking a woman feel weak, and I am trying to show you what it is. I’ve had my ass handed to me by female black belts. I’ve jumped beside women who made better landings than I did. I’ve been outswimmed, outgunned, and outranked—by women. I’ve got no problem respecting women.”
Now it was her turn to scoff. “But not a woman like me. I’m just good for baking cookies, cleaning the windows, and feeding the babies. Oh, and sex.”
“For God’s sake, I was being an asshole because you were standing there in your perfect pink suit looking at me like I was something you wanted to delicately scrape off the sole of your high heel. And I call bullshit. You want to pigeonhole me with your asshole ex, but I’m not him. I don’t put other people down. I kick them into higher gear. Good God, woman, you climbed a mountain with me today. Have you ever done anything like that before?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. Her ex-husband never would have accepted responsibility for her near collapse on the trail yesterday, and he certainly wouldn’t have apologized. Russ had stepped back so the cameras could get a good shot of her when they reached the top of the mountain today. Ethan would have hogged the peak or at least insisted on being in the picture. Russ was right—he was nothing like Ethan.
She ducked her head to avoid his fierce gaze, but she couldn’t escape his voice. “I know myself inside and out, because I’ve been in a lot of fucked-up situations where decisions had to be made fast to keep people alive. I don’t like to lose—fights, games, competitions, or people. I push hard, I fight hard, I do everything hard, but I take care of my own. Nobody messes with my team. Like it or not, Susie, we’re a team now. I’m goddamn pissed at your ex-husband for leaving you wounded, but I’m fairly certain undoing the damage is within my capability.”
She lifted her chin. “That sounds like pity to me.”
“Not pity.” His erection throbbed against her belly. Her breath caught, and her nipples peaked. He groaned, low in his throat, and the sound vibrated in her core. “Trust me—not pity. Give me one night, Susannah.”