The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting

by Jessica Clare

  Because apparently she couldn’t be trusted around the man. He touched her and she just lost all sense of reality.

  And that couldn’t keep happening.

  * * *

  The afternoon of paintball did a lot to distract Miranda from her worries. There was something incredibly cathartic about shooting a man, which probably said a lot about more about her mind-set than it should have. To her surprise, their team won the afternoon—despite the fact that both she and Dane had been distracted for a good while. George had been a superb leader and a terrific paintball player, and his skills and enthusiasm had pushed them over the top, though it had been close.

  The special prize had indeed been a nice campsite. There was a tiny cabin in the woods with two sets of bunk beds and extra blankets. It was situated next to a well, and the only roughing that was required was cooking and eating the steaks that had been left for them. The team was in high spirits, and no one even pointed out that this wasn’t much of a survival skill. No one cared.

  They had a nice, quiet evening—it was Steve’s turn to set up the fire and she helped the others collect wood while George and Pete went to set up a new trapline.

  Dane had gone back to treating her like one of the guys, but it was Miranda who put a little distance between them. She’d been opening up to him too much. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking or how she felt—he just wanted his next roll in the hay. It was time to take a breather on the chatty stuff and just seduce the man when she needed to. So she stayed on the far side of camp and kept to herself. Dane didn’t seem too thrilled at that, but it was nice to have the tables turned at least.

  That evening, they drew straws for cots, and Will, Jamie, and Dane ended up sleeping on the ground. Miranda got a top bunk and slept warm and cozy for the first time that week. So the bunk smelled a little stale—didn’t matter. She was happy to have her own bed, even though she was unable to sleep. In the middle of the night, she leaned over the edge and glanced below. Sure enough, Dane was down there, looking at her. He grinned and pointed for the door, a wordless question.

  Her body quivered with need at the thought, but she forced herself to shake her head and roll back on the mattress and go back to sleep.

  She was going to call the shots around here, even if she wanted to give in.

  And right now, she really, really wanted to give in.

  Morning dawned, and that day was Miranda’s turn to learn foraging from the designated subject matter expert. Jamie was their forager for the week, and that suited her just fine. She wanted nothing more than to get away from camp for a few hours and clear her head. But Jamie had left early that morning to learn traplines, and now she sat at camp drumming her fingers.

  Nearby, Dane sat making more knots in some rope for Pete. He’d shown the poor gamer CEO the same knots every day that week, and every day, Pete needed to be shown again. Dane didn’t lose his temper, but she was pretty sure he was getting sick of Pete. The man was lazy around camp, whined, and took every opportunity available to tell them how much money he was making at his company. No one liked him.

  “You know, Miranda, I can show you how to forage,” Dane offered with a casual sideways glance. “I’d be more than happy to take you out and show you if the others aren’t going to be back for a while.”

  She could just bet how that would go. As soon as Dane left the campsite, she’d become entranced by the flex of his muscles as he bent over to pick up something and then she’d throw him down on the ground and hump him with abandon. Flushing at the thought, she shook her head. “That’s okay, thanks.”

  Pete seemed to wake up at that. He stood up and brushed off his shorts, drawing attention to his pale, bony legs. “Miranda, if you want, I can show you fishing. You still need to learn that, right?”

  This made Dane frown, and he gave Miranda an imperceptible shake of his head.

  Well, she loved driving the man crazy by doing the unexpected. She stood. “That sounds lovely, Pete. Thank you. Let me just change into some shorts.”

  She did, and they set off into the woods, Dane giving her an odd look as they left. He looked as if he wanted to talk to her. She decided she’d let him stew for a bit instead.

  After all, she’d been stewing all night and she was horny. Angry and horny—it was a terrible combination. She would be strong, though, and not give in to his sexy smile and tight ass. Damn Dane for thinking he could snap his fingers and she’d be on all fours, ready and willing. Of course, that mental image didn’t help her libido, and she gave a sigh.

  The stream wasn’t too far away—thanks to the better campsite—and she took the line that Pete offered her. He showed her how to set up the hook he’d created from crudely carved wood and how to string a dead grasshopper on it. There wasn’t much more to it than tossing the line in and watching the piece of wood (tied to the string to form a makeshift float) bob on the surface.

  It was a soothing sort of task, with nothing more to do than occasionally tug on her line to see how things were coming. Pete was chatty but she wasn’t all that interested.

  It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon—peaceful and quiet after living in close quarters with six men for the past few days. Best of all, it allowed her to get away from Dane for a few hours and clear her mind. It definitely could use some clearing. Right now she was feeling so lost about him that she didn’t know what to think.

  “How’s the fishing coming?” Pete said a while later, wading over in the water to get closer to her.

  His question broke her nice quiet reverie. So much for relaxing. “It’s fine. No bites just yet.” And there wouldn’t be if he kept wading around close to where her bobber floated. “Let’s just give it some time.”

  He moved to stand next to her and threw his line out again, crossing over hers.

  She flashed him an irritated look, but said nothing, simply moved out of the way and dragged her line over a few feet. Was the man not even good at fishing? Wasn’t fishing hard to screw up?

  “So…Miranda,” Pete said when she’d gotten her line resettled. “How are you enjoying being out here in the wild with nothing but a bunch of big, sweaty men?”

  Her hackles went up. It could have been a perfectly innocent question, but the way he phrased it made her think otherwise. “Trip’s going just fine,” she said tersely.

  He nodded. “Good, good.” There was a moment of silence, and then he looked over at her again, the smarmy grin on his face. “Any particular man you have your eye on?”

  She immediately rounded on him in irritation. “Where is this going, Pete?”

  The look he gave her was innocent. “I’m not sure what you mean, Miranda. I was just asking if you had a favorite guy you liked hanging out with this week. That’s all.”

  What did he think he knew about her and Dane? Miranda’s eyes narrowed at the gamer CEO. “What makes you think I have a favorite out here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He said casually, trailing his fingers through the water and making little circles that were certain to scare away any remaining fish. “You seem like the type who wouldn’t mind a strong, attractive man at your side to make you feel beautiful and shower you with attention. To see to your every need…”

  She stiffened. Had he seen her and Dane in the woods?

  “… and I think you’re the type that might appreciate the perks that come with dating a CEO.” He paused and gave her an expectant look.

  Blank, Miranda stared at him, trying to piece together his thoughts. Was Dane a CEO of something? The only CEO this week was…Oh. She began to laugh with relief as she realized just who he was referring to.

  At her laugh, Pete scowled. “What’s so funny about this?”

  She tried to smother the laugh behind her hand, but a bubble still escaped her. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s not funny. It just wasn’t what I expected, that’s all.”

  His look became cunning. “Maybe you expected me to mention Dane? I see the way you’re slobbering after him.�
�

  That quieted her laughter. “I’m not slobbering after anyone, you jackass.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t think I haven’t seen you snuggling up to Dane every chance you get. You follow him around like a puppy and hang on his every word. It’s pretty obvious that you have a thing for him.”

  That was sobering. Did everyone think she had a thing for him? And here she thought she’d been so very sly and clever this week, so very careful to only let Dane see what she was offering. Her hand went to her collar anxiously.

  Now that Pete had his feelings hurt, he seemed to be on a bit of a rampage. “If you think you have any hope of scoring time with our instructor just because he’s some big shot hockey player, I’m here to disabuse you of that notion,” he said, curling his lip at her. “I asked Dane flat out if he was interested in you. If he was going to pursue you. And do you know what he said?”

  Her entire body froze. Somehow, it had become very important for her to hear the words. “What did he say?” Her voice sounded incredibly calm despite the hammering of her heart.

  “He said that I was welcome to you. That he wasn’t interested in you. So there.”

  Miranda turned her gaze back to her fishing line, watching the stick bob back and forth, and not really caring if anything was biting on the other end. Of course Dane had said that, if confronted. Why wouldn’t he? And yet…had he really said that Pete was welcome to her? Seriously? That stung.

  As if realizing that he’d gone too far over the line, Pete moved forward and put his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. “Hey, Miranda, I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to make you realize that you could do better than that cocky dickhead.”

  She swallowed the knot in her throat and gave him a skeptical smile. “Like you?”

  “Yeah, like me,” he said, offended that he had to point out the fact. “I’m a multimillionaire, you know. I—”

  “You’re the CEO of Hazardous Waste Games. Yes, I know,” she interrupted, then turned and held her fishing pole in his direction. “And while the offer is very sweet, Pete, I’m really not looking to hook up with anyone on this trip. I’m starting a new life in two weeks, and I don’t plan on leaving any baggage behind.”

  “That’s fine,” Pete was quick to offer. “I’m totally game for a one-night stand.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned to leave. “Take my fishing pole, please. I need some time alone.” She shoved it into his hand. “I think it has a bite.” Ignoring his yelps of surprise, Miranda ducked past a tree and moved deeper into the woods. She needed time to breathe. Time to think.

  Was Dane just using her? She’d thought she’d seen real interest in his eyes, but was she being blind? Was this just round two of Dane’s twisted games, nine years after he’d ruined her life the first time?

  The thought made her sick to her stomach, because she couldn’t tell what Dane was up to.

  ELEVEN

  S

  omething was amiss. Dane scowled at Pete as he returned to camp, a fat fish strung through the gills on a large stick. The man looked utterly proud of himself for finally catching a fish, but he also looked…guilty. He wouldn’t meet Dane’s eyes as he returned to camp. So he approached Pete. “Caught something, I see?”

  “I did,” Pete agreed, and before Dane could even ask him to, he sat down and began to dress the fish.

  Well, that was an improvement. Pete never did anything voluntarily. Dane glanced at the woods, looking for Miranda. It was getting dark and she should have been with Pete, but there was no sign of her. “Where’s your partner?”

  Pete’s skinny shoulders raised in a shrug. “She went for a walk.” When Dane continued to loom over Pete with a frown, Pete added, “She was in a bad mood. I didn’t ask. You know how women get.”

  Not only was that sexist, but that was unfair to Miranda. She’d had good reason for getting mad at Pete the times that she had. He crossed his arms over his chest, deciding to wait it out. It could have been that something had upset her stomach and she was ill, and she wanted to be sick in the woods away from nosy Pete. That he could understand.

  As he fed another branch to the cozy fire, he turned and looked at the others in the camp. Steve was showing Jamie how to lash the shelter properly, but it was finished for the evening, with even a cozy side shelter for Miranda. George and Will had caught a squirrel in one of the traplines and Will was busy cleaning the kill. Their little camp was busy and productive. Except for Miranda, who had run off into the woods.

  He decided to wait a few more minutes, to see if she would come back. So he gathered wood and answered Steve’s questions—Steve always had more questions—and loitered around camp as they cooked dinner. Pete whistled an annoying, off-key tune as he finished scaling the fish and trussed it up through a stick to roast over the fire next to the squirrel. They had some pecans and dandelion greens to go with the small meal, and spirits were high.

  When the food was ready and dark had set on the camp, the men looked at him expectantly. “Should we wait for Miranda before eating?”

  “The portions are awfully small for seven people,” Pete helpfully pointed out. “Maybe she’s already eaten something and we should go ahead without her?”

  That little shit. Part of him wanted to tell Pete to fuck off, and that if he touched Miranda’s share of the food, he’d skewer him over the fire next. But that wouldn’t make him a great teacher, would it?

  He frowned and moved to his backpack, pulling out the GPS tracker. He turned it on and punched in the code for Miranda’s bracelet, and she began to beep on his radar. “You guys eat without us. I’m going to go check on Miranda and make sure everything is all right.”

  Gray-haired George immediately stood and moved to Dane’s side. “I’ll come with you, just in case she’s hurt herself and you need help.”

  “No,” Dane said quickly, thinking of his last few rendezvous with Miranda. She’d surprised him from out of nowhere repeatedly and pounced on him. Maybe this was another one of her sexy little games. The last thing he wanted was for George to come upon Miranda trying to seduce him in the woods again. “I’m sure I can find her. Don’t worry about us. If I need help, I’ll radio back to the base. You guys go ahead and eat. Don’t worry about Miranda.”

  George nodded and moved back to the fire, and Dane set off in the woods, tracking Miranda.

  He found her a short while later, a mile or so from camp, sitting alone in the woods on a fallen log. Though the sky was darkening and the stars were out, there was plenty of light to see by thanks to the rising moon that leaked in through the trees and the flashlight in his hand. He could have found her without the flashlight, but it would give her a chance to see him coming and to not be scared.

  Miranda was anything but scared, though. Instead, when he came up to her, she looked pissed. “Miranda, are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she said in an oddly flat voice. She didn’t sound fine.

  “Did you hurt something? Did you get bitten?” He gestured with the flashlight back the way he came. “The others were waiting for you at camp.”

  “I needed to clear my head,” she said, and didn’t offer more. Dane frowned and clicked off the flashlight.

  “Clear your head? Why?” He watched her tilt her head to the side, as if considering his answer and how she would respond.

  After a moment, she gave a long, weary sigh. “It’s complicated, Dane. Very, very complicated.” She sounded so dejected that he felt a ridiculous urge to go and comfort her. Miranda didn’t need comforting, did she?

  “So complicated that you can’t talk to me about it?” For some reason, he didn’t like that. Miranda didn’t need protecting, but while she was on this trip, she was his responsibility, and he didn’t like seeing her troubled. He liked seeing that playful smile on her face. It wasn’t there right now, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed seeing it. So he moved toward her and tilted a finger under her chin, forcing her to lift her face. “H
ey,” he said softly. “You can talk to me.”

  She gave a small, brittle laugh at that. “Can I really, Dane?”

  “Of course,” he said, a little stung. “You can trust me.”

  Another mirthless laugh escaped her with that.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” she said with a sigh, standing up and brushing off her shorts. “Just laughing at myself, really.”

  He moved forward and put a hand on her arm. “Miranda,” he said, brushing his thumb across the bare skin of her upper arm. “No one is…approaching you incorrectly, are they? They’re not harassing you?” He remembered Pete’s “accidental” grab of her breasts and his jaw clenched, hard. Client or no client, if that little shit had tried anything…

  “No,” she said in a soft voice. “It’s nothing. I’m just mentally not all here today.” Her arm patted his. “Really. It’s nothing.”

  He decided to make her smile, instead. “It’s because you missed me, right?” His hand reached up and touched her chin. “Couldn’t stand the thought of being away from me for a few hours, and spending it with Pete was enough to make you sad?”

  She laughed at that, and he felt her mouth pull into a genuine smile. His thumb grazed over her lip, and a long, quiet moment passed between the two of them. “See? It’s not so bad being with me,” he teased.

  That seemed to sober her again. He frowned. Was she mad at him for some strange reason? The last time they’d had a moment alone together, she’d flopped back on the grass after giving him the best blow job of his life. She’d looked content and just a little pleased with herself. Miranda had him turned inside out lately. What had brought around this newest change of heart?

  Before he could question her further, she reached up, grasped his ears, and pulled him down. Her mouth devoured his in a wild kiss, her tongue thrusting into his mouth.