Mouth dry, she realized it was all him.
He reached over and tweaked her ponytail. "I like it."
Distracted, she murmured a thank-you as she closed the door. "About my briefcase—"
"I forgot to tell you. It's part of the negotiation package. No talk about briefcases all day."
She forced herself to think straight. "I realize we're very different people," she began, presenting her logic as though they still stood in a courtroom. "I'm responsible, organized – some people might say to a fault, but that's how I am. I expected to work this weekend, not waste time going on hikes and picnics. This case may not be a major career maker or breaker for you, but I'm not losing sight of what I've set out to accomplish. I'm not going to waste time trying to retrieve my briefcase." She took a deep breath. "And I'm not accustomed to running willy-nilly without a plan."
He leaned against the hall table, crossing his feet at his ankles, drawing her attention to his muscular calves. But his words drew her gaze back up to the lazy curve of his lips. "We'll have to do something about that, won't we?"
While she protested, he engulfed her hand in his, grabbed her jacket and backpack, and drew her out the door and then on to the elevator. Once outside, they stepped into early-morning sunshine and Barbara spotted his car. The top was down, and though she battled the thought, it brought to mind fun, reckless times without the irksome weight of responsibility.
Despite what he'd said, she intended to get her briefcase back. Deciding her best tactic was to go along with him, she slid into the seat. So far, Kenneth had been in the driver's seat every time. Glancing over at him gripping the steering wheel, she realized he still was. Literally. But that could change.
Still, there was something about the wind tossing her hair, caressing her skin, and the beat of loud rock music as it poured from the speakers to blend into the whoosh of that wind. Within minutes she felt the years peel away. Years of being a dedicated professional, a single-minded career woman with no thought of simple fun.
In little more than half an hour they'd sped up the summit toward the east canyons. Taking the cutoff to the resort town of Park City, they bypassed the picturesque center and headed for the hiking trails.
Because it was still early spring, the wildflowers remained uncrushed, yet the season was advancing and the weather was warm enough to hike. Mountain columbine bloomed and honeysuckle scented the air, along with the fragrance of wild loaming grass and the rich aroma of pine that stretched out as far as the timberline.
Unloading a hefty-looking backpack that she suspected contained their lunch, he tossed Barbara her jacket and her backpack, snagged his own and pocketed the keys. She stared in dismay at the still-locked trunk and Kenneth's back as he walked away.
This wasn't going according to plan. She was supposed to cleverly retrieve her briefcase, bid him goodbye and be hopping the next shuttle down the mountain. Instead, her briefcase was still in his trunk and her emotions were all caught up in muscular thighs and too-tight T-shirts.
Scrambling to catch up with him, she took one more backward look at the car and loped up the path. Within minutes she realized he seemed intent on serious hiking. It didn't take long to hit the trail. Kenneth took the lead and Barbara found herself mesmerized by the rugged silhouette she faced. Slim waist and hips flowed into muscular thighs. Briefcase, she told herself. Work. The case. The case of her career.
But the thought skittered away with the breeze that rippled the trees. It was difficult to think about work as she watched the play of muscles in Kenneth's legs and beneath the thin cotton of his shirt.
He turned suddenly, catching her thorough survey. Hushing, she tried to appear as though she'd been studying the flora and fauna. From the satisfied look on his face, she doubted she'd fooled him for a minute.
He consulted a map. "If we take this trail, it'll lead by the waterfall, but it's a steep climb. You game?"
She was game for anything that would distract her. Besides, her competitive spirit was kicking in. She liked winning in more places than the courtroom. "I'm not only game. I'll race you there."
Kenneth glanced back, his smile lazy. "The hike will save you a workout at the gym."
"What makes you think I work out?"
His slow, thorough gaze made his smile seem to race by comparison. "You don't stay in that kind of shape from pushing papers across a desk."
Heat built. Barbara chose to ignore it. "How about you? Racquetball? Or chasing your secretary around your desk?"
His smile grew broader. "She doesn't run that fast."
She'd asked for that one. "Now I suppose you're going to tell me that she's over sixty with blue hair and twelve grandchildren."
He laughed, a rich sound, like café au lait on a balmy Orleans night. Her senses prickled. It was a laugh meant to be shared, seductive in nature. And hauntingly familiar. "Nope. She's twenty-five, a hot-looking blonde who can have her choice of any man in the firm."
"And she chose you?"
He didn't give any ground. "I do my own choosing."
Irritation laced her words. "Do you want to head toward the waterfall or not?"
Idle amusement shaded his features. "And here I was thinking I'd just asked you the same question." But he turned, leading the way.
Soon the trail steepened as Kenneth had warned her. Barbara felt her muscles straining, knowing this was a more effective workout than the treadmill and stair stepper combined. But she was determined not to show it. So he had a hot-looking secretary? Not that it was any of her concern. But she couldn't help wondering if he was this smooth all the time. Perhaps with a stable of willing women back in San Francisco who never even considered telling him no.
Glancing up the trail at him, Barbara acknowledged that she could see why. All angles and unabashed masculinity, he was a man who probably had turned many a female heart to mush. Until lately, she'd considered her own heart immune, but she didn't want to let the unexpected wave of sentimentality that had swept over her lately lower her resistance. Just because she'd been regretting her past, she didn't intend to become a number on his no-doubt-impressive list of women.
The sound of water hitting rocks finally penetrated her senses. She could see the water tumbling over the natural outcrop from the mountainside, splashing on to the boulders below. As it relentlessly carved a groove into the rock, the water smelled as sweet as she knew it would taste. Barbara forgot her bet to beat him to the site, shrugging off her backpack and scooping up a handful of water, anticipating that first flavorful drink. It tasted even better than she'd imagined, she thought, splashing a bit of it on her face. "I don't know why I ever convinced myself that the gym was a substitute for real hiking," she confessed.
Kenneth laid his own backpack on the ground. "No waterfalls at your gym?"
Barbara searched for sarcasm, found none and relaxed a fraction. "The management opted for a steam room instead."
Squatting down beside her, Kenneth filled his own broad hands with water and drank deeply, then wiped his mouth as she watched. "I guess this won't kill us."
She gestured to either side of the compact falls, where no warning signs regarding the water were in place. "Nothing's posted."
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's food for the soul."
"You wouldn't be going poetic on me, would you?"
"Living in big cities, we replace old-fashioned walks with treadmills, hiking with stair climbers. It's more than exercise to come up here and take a refresher course on nature." He gazed at the towering peaks above them that dominated even the endless sky. "We think we've conquered everything with our modern technology. But the gods are still going to have the last laugh."
Barbara didn't have a ready response. He reminded her of a time when she'd constantly trotted out her social conscience, questioning everything. But climbing the corporate ladder had dulled some of those questions, shoving them aside until they'd become rusty, unused. "Are you always this philosophical?"
His l
augh tripped across her senses. "Just thinking out loud. Don't tell me these mountains haven't overwhelmed you at times?"
"Actually, I think I fell in love with them at first sight. I hadn't ever seen anything to compare with the Rockies. I stepped off the plane and I was awed – simply struck dumb by how beautiful they were." She fingered the grass at her feet, absently pulling a few blades. "I guess I don't think about the scenery much anymore."
"Too much work and not enough play?"
"Something like that." She smiled. "Actually, I've been transferred across the country three times with my firm and I've found it's not smart to get too attached to things."
His eyes darkened. "That include people?"
Her hands stilled. "Sometimes. I have friends here and my family back home, so I'm not Orphan of the Year. But I don't put down roots too deeply."
"Hurts too much to pull them up," he replied, his voice tight.
Searching his face, she wondered about him. Did that easy grin conceal a restlessness he regretted? A lack of deep connections? A piercing arrow of intuitiveness told her that wasn't true. But she couldn't know that. "What about you?"
"Like you, I wanted to get ahead. I'm not pointing any fingers. You don't make partner in any decent firm without sacrifices. Like chasing down new clients when you'd rather be hiking with a beautiful woman."
"I didn't know you'd given up a new client to come today."
"I wasn't giving up on this opportunity, Barbara. You are a very beautiful woman."
One part of her mind realized that he'd sidestepped her question, but another, stronger part was responding to his last words. Since his gaze didn't leave hers, Barbara felt the heat stain her cheeks, realizing he'd actually made her blush. Accustomed to smooth, accomplished men, she didn't think she had a blush left in her. But somehow, within a few days, he'd breached defenses most men couldn't crack in months. "Bet you say that to all of your opposition."
"Lucky I never went up against Perry Mason, then."
She grinned. "The 'female' was implied."
Quaking aspens rustled as sunshine spilled on them. "But never assumed."
His hand reached out to cup her chin and she felt a ridiculous tremble. Shocked, she realized she was leaning toward him, anticipating another kiss. Wanting another kiss. Shakily, she jerked back. "If we're going to make it to the top, we'd better get going."
Amusement flickered over his expression, and his eyes told her he read her thoughts as clearly as if she'd spoken. Yet he gathered up his backpack. "Headed for the top, are you? In everything, Barbara?"
Not rising to the bait, she shouldered her pack. "I'd hate to leave you in the dust, Gerrard."
"With you for company, I'm willing."
Before she could anticipate his next move, he reached in his backpack and pulled out a bandanna that matched his own. Then he leaned forward, tying it around her forehead, tucking in the hair that wisped around her face. It was a curiously intimate gesture, one that made her catch her breath and at the same time created a confusion she couldn't name.
Deciding she was wisest to ignore him, Barbara stepped away and headed up the path, weaving her way through the brush until the trail cleared.
Glancing back to see if he was following, she swung around just in time to see his leisurely, appreciative survey of her legs.
Two thoughts leapt forward. First, she was glad she'd acquired a decent tan on her legs. And, second, she remembered exactly how she'd watched him while he was in the lead position. Bad timing reminded her that she should have thought of that earlier and let him continue leading.
Trying to act composed, she started to turn forward again when she caught his smirk – devilishly unrepentant, blatantly open. "Look, if you think you're so smart, you can lead the way to the top."
"No, ma'am." His gaze continued to travel over her. "I'm smart enough to stay right where I am."
Fuming, she sprinted upward, knowing from her burning lungs that she was setting too grueling a pace, but the damned man unnerved her. Again.
The thought floated in her mind for a moment, but the effort to breathe made her ignore it.
What was she doing? Hiking instead of working. She should be gaining an advantage instead of dallying with Kenneth Gerrard. And she certainly shouldn't be consorting with the opposition. But still she kept climbing.
Kenneth's ready smile faded as he watched her. She had grown a lot of angles and prickly corners. Sadly he wondered if they were a defense. Considering all the defenses he'd clung to, he understood the reasons even as he cursed them.
Barbara glanced back and he adopted the grin that came so easily to him. He'd become an expert at hiding the truth. But never had it been so cruel, so necessary.
A weight settled around his heart. Even as he wanted to open doors she'd slammed shut for too long, he wondered which would be hardest to convince. Barbara, or his own teetering feelings.
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
Barbara stared hungrily at the lunch Kenneth was unpacking. Considering how smooth and sophisticated he was, she expected nothing less than a catered feast hidden away in that backpack. She wondered if his hotel had done the honors. She was unashamedly starving after the steep incline they'd conquered.
Anticipation made her mouth water, but when he pulled out the food from a thermal warming pack, it fell open instead.
"Corn dogs!" she exclaimed. "I haven't eaten them in years. Oh, but I love them, especially with…" Her voice trailed off as he handed her packets of mustard relish. "How did you know I like them this way?"
"Good guess." He flashed a grin. "Actually, that's how I like them, and I'm egotistical enough to think someone else might share my taste."
Someone had. But that was years ago. Barbara shook her head. Jeez, she and Billy weren't the only two people in the world to like corn dogs with mustard relish. Smiling, she bit into the corn dog, then reached for her canteen.
"No need for lukewarm water. I brought drinks." Producing cans of grape and orange soda nestled in thermal holders, he balanced one can in each hand.
"Oooh. Both are my favorites." Unaware that she looked like a child torn between chocolate and bubble gum, she finally reached for the grape drink.
Kenneth popped the top on the other can. "Good. Then you can have the purple mustache."
Her hand flew automatically to her upper lip and she saw him grin. "I haven't had a grape mustache since grade school."
"Unless you brought a mirror, you won't know if you've overcome that little problem."
She was tempted to throw something at him, but at the moment she held only her corn dog and Grape Crush and she wasn't willing to sacrifice either. Instead she took a healthy bite of corn dog.
"I'm glad you're not a nibbler," Kenneth commented as he picked up his own corn dog and dressed it with relish.
"Excuse me?" she mumbled around a mouthful. "I like someone who enjoys their food. Most women pick at it like they're expecting to find something still crawling around in their plates."
Guiltily she glanced down at her almost demolished corn dog. "I was hungry," she replied defensively.
He laughed heartily. "I hope so. I'm packing dessert, too."
Her eyes lit up before she could conceal the gleam and she sighed. "Okay, so I'm a glutton."
His gaze drifted over her slim figure. "Not so it shows. I figure we worked off the entire day's calories on the way up here."
"Well, this is it for me. I don't have time for dinner because after I get my briefcase back I intend—"
"Tsk, tsk. Against the rules. Besides, our day may not be over until after dinner."
"But—"
"And we haven't even gotten to dessert."
She wasn't waylaid by the mention of the promised dessert. "I can't waste this much time away—"
But he wasn't listening. Instead he reached around to the backpack, dug inside and then whipped back to face her, holding two candy bars.
; "Milky Way and Butterfingers?" she exclaimed, distracted. She could never decide between the two. Both were her favorites. And she seldom let herself indulge in either anymore.
"You want to split them?" he suggested.
She was tempted. Instead she reached for the Milky Way. He might be in charge of this abduction, but she was reluctant to let him totally bulldoze her. Yet once again, his knowing grin made her suspect he'd read her thoughts.
He was smart. So smart she suspected the wheels in his mind turned at terrifying degrees of speed. It made her wary. And for some absurd reason it also made her blood skim rapidly through her body as she anticipated his next move. It had been far too long since she'd had such a worthy opponent. In business, yes. But not to share a corn dog with on the top of a mountain. And despite her resistance, she relished the exhilaration.
Munching the chocolate and caramel appreciatively, she studied Kenneth as he leaned back against a tree trunk, stretching out his long legs. While she'd expected a great many surprises from a lawyer with his reputation, corn dogs and candy bars hadn't been on her list. She had expected a mind like a steel trap. Granted, that was true enough. But she'd also expected barracuda tactics. Somehow, hiking and corn dogs didn't fall within those boundaries.
Still, he did have her briefcase locked in his trunk. Hoping her face wasn't transparently telegraphing her feelings, she tried to learn more about him. "Tell me, how'd you wind up at Barrett and Barrett?" she asked lazily, as though it was of no interest.
His face made it clear he saw through her. Still, he answered easily enough. "It's a medium-size firm. Not too big that I'd be swallowed up and lost in the herd, not too small that they don't carry enough moxie to play in the power cases."
"They have a great reputation," she acknowledged. That and more. The firm's name sent shivers through any litigator facing them. "You go there right out of law school?"
"No, I clerked first."
"District court?"
He kept his grin in check. "Nope. Supreme Court." She studied him carefully. He must mean on the state level. Clerking for a justice on the federal supreme court was a rare privilege, usually given to someone with political connections on the mega power level. "Where?"
WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN Page 4