Exposed

by JC Harroway

  He wouldn’t be expecting company at this time of day or this far from the camp. He certainly wouldn’t expect her, after he finally gave up on her in his easygoing, well-mannered way. She should slip away, unnoticed.

  Even before her feet started to move, she’d made her decision. She blamed curiosity. Perhaps the solitary sight of him drew her, or the surprising revelation that Dr Dan had time for a hobby. Or perhaps she simply wanted to reassure herself her restlessness of the night before had been completely unrelated to the man.

  He must have heard her approach, his startled face emerging from behind the viewfinder of the camera, which boasted a huge lens.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’ They hadn’t spoken yesterday after her stilted apology and his graceful dismissal. ‘I was running.’ Sweat trickled a chilly path down her neck from her hairline and she regretted the impulse to interrupt. No doubt, her face was an alarming shade of puce.

  And he hadn’t spoken yet. She braced herself, ready to turn tail.

  But excitement, not censure lit his eyes. ‘That’s okay. I just want to catch it.’ He turned back to the camera, his head ducking once more to the view through the lens. ‘Take a seat, Archer. It’s going to be a beauty.’ He spoke with his back to her, but she could tell from the slight slur of his speech he had one eye scrunched closed as he focused on what was about to become a stunning sunrise.

  Eden dropped to the dew-dampened grass, tugging her long sleeves down to cover her frigid fingers.

  Dan clicked away at the camera, the only sound disturbing the rural tranquillity. After a while, she forgot he was there, and she embraced the majesty of the view. When was the last time she’d simply sat and been mindful? Grateful that she hadn’t died that day, when others hadn’t been so fortunate? She pulled crisp, earthy air into her lungs, exhaling as she allowed her gaze to trace the jagged horizon, which was backlit by a sky streaked with orange and pink.

  The movement of Dan repositioning the tripod for a different shot drew her back to a different kind of view, no less spectacular. Syrupy warmth spread through her veins, heating her limbs from the inside.

  Lightweight cargo pants hugged his taut backside as he stooped over the tripod, and his wide shoulders bunched under his T-shirt as he lifted his hand to manually focus the lens. Who knew cameras like that still existed? The breeze lifted his hair, revealing the grey at his temples and the lines fanning out from the eye he scrunched closed while he concentrated.

  He pressed a few buttons, turned a few dials and then joined her on the grass as the first rays of the day’s sun rose above the mountains.

  She hesitated to break the silence she’d found. ‘Won’t you miss it?’ A whisper.

  He shrugged, his eyes never leaving the display Mother Nature put on for them. ‘I don’t want to miss seeing it in person.’ He flashed her grin, ‘And I’ve set the automatic timer.’ He draped his arms over his bent knees, his hands clasped between them. ‘Shh, Archer. Just watch.’

  She surprised herself by doing as she was told, although had it been an exam she’d have failed. For her, the splendour of the view was surpassed by the vision of Dan watching the sunrise with rapt attention. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  Had he spent countless mornings doing this with his wife? Sharing special wonders of nature before rolling home with hot coffee for lazy lovemaking?

  The golden morning light glinted off the sprinkle of golden hair on his tanned, muscular arms. Strong arms. Arms built for holding. The breeze lifted a waft of his manly scent, dumping it on Eden like a decadent cloud. She hugged her own knees, conscious she’d just spent the last half an hour sweating up the hill.

  His chin was dusted with stubble and his hair looked like he’d spent the night sleeping on a Welsh hillside in a field with only a tap and an outhouse for amenities. But there was a serene solidity about him, as if he’d been here, steadfast and immovable, as long as the landscape itself.

  ‘What do you think, Archer?’ His gaze slid sideways and one long, elegant finger pointed at the view. ‘Worth waking up for?’

  His hands were beautiful, in a way no man’s hands should be—the nails short and square, the fingers strong and sinewy. How many times had those very hands been put to good use? How many life-saving actions and soothing touches had they performed?

  And when had she stopped noticing the little things—those small differences, fascinating idiosyncrasies and personal passions that made us human and beautifully unique?

  Perhaps Mac was right. She’d pushed, battled and persisted for so long—had she lost her own humanity along the way?

  Dan turned to her, a small smile denting his cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to speak—to repeat his unanswered question, to comment on the beauty of the day to come or even to tell her that she had sheep poo on her trainer. She’d never know.

  Her body reacted as if it had made up its mind irrespective of her overworked brain. Dan was safe. He was here. He was beyond attractive. And it had been so long. So long since she’d felt the comfort of human touch, of being desirable.

  She leaned towards him, taking them both, she suspected, by surprise. His startled eyes registered it just before she touched his lips with hers. Warm and soft. A surge of longing, desire, or plain old lust rose up inside her like forty thousand volts crashing through her chest.

  Had he pulled away then, she’d have likely given up men for good. A fact she wasn’t aware of until he grasped both her shoulders in his beautiful, talented hands and took over the kiss, sliding his smooth lips across hers and dipping his tongue inside her mouth.

  She gasped, her good hand finding the hair at his nape to intertwine the soft strands with her fingers. Lust thumped her in the chest and stole her breath. So good, his kiss, so good.

  The tip of his nose was cold against her cheek, some tussock grass tickled the backs of her legs below her running skins, and she’d cleaned her teeth in a dark field, but none of that mattered as she clung to the moment, desperate for a reprieve from overthinking, being angry and second-guessing the motives of everyone, especially herself.

  ‘Eden—’ Dan pulled back, twisting his mouth away from hers as the cold air rushed in to cool her kiss-moistened lips.

  A scream echoed off the walls of her skull. Don’t—don’t break this moment. But it was too late.

  ‘I … this isn’t a good idea.’ Dan’s eyes were haunted, even as his chest fought for breath and his fingers dug into the back of her shoulders as if holding on tight. Her eyes dipped to the thickening bulge in his trousers. She snorted as the chill of reality doused her own newly awakened, libido.

  Gutted. His expression spoke a thousand words as he adjusted the crotch of his trousers. ‘Look, I—’

  A spew of humiliation fled her throat. ‘Don’t worry. I get it.’ She shrugged from under his grasp and struggled to stand on her numb and wobbly legs.

  Dan joined her, his regret cloaked in furrowed brows. ‘Do you?’ A bite to his tone, harsher than the chill of the wind.

  ‘Yeah. I’m …’ She stuttered to a halt, the thickness in her throat trapping the words. They lodged there, too painful to sound aloud.

  ‘No.’ A bark. ‘It’s not you.’ Dan moved as if to reach for her arms, but stopped at her wince and took a small step backwards.

  ‘Really? You’re seriously giving me that line?’ Nausea roiled in her empty stomach. How had she read this so wrong? So he still loved his wife? Great. She wasn’t asking for a ring, or even a date. Trust Dan to be the only single man on the planet who wouldn’t accept a quick meaningless bang when it was on offer.

  ‘It’s not a line.’ He gripped the back of his neck, knuckles white. ‘I … It’s been a while for me. I—’

  Duh … that’s part of your appeal and why you should have your trousers around you knees right now, greeting your precious sunrise with a moon.

  ‘So it has nothing to do with my burns? Nothing to do with the fact I’m a bitch? Completely unrelated to
the fact I’m far from feminine and spend most of my life in combat fatigues?’

  His stare hardened as his mouth opened, slack-jawed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. None of those things matter to me, even if they were true, which they’re not.’

  ‘Huh, right. Don’t worry, Dr Do-Goody. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last to hold those opinions.’ Eden spun on her heel, away from the majesty of the now fully fledged sunrise and away from Dan. As she ran back down the hill to camp, she couldn’t dispel the cold sweat of humiliation quite as easily.

  Chapter 6

  The beer garden of the Prince of Wales pub heaved with drinkers enjoying the uncharacteristically warm spring evening. Their group dominated one of the large wooden tables, their excited chatter no doubt irritating the regulars still huddled inside the gloom of the pub’s interior, nursing their pints.

  After the hike, the group had decided to stay the extra night, filling the town’s two tiny bed and breakfast-style hotels, to the delight of the owners, no doubt. Dan had planned to travel back to Derbyshire tonight, but having discovered Eden was staying, he changed his plans, refusing to dissect his motives. It meant a five am start tomorrow and risking rush hour traffic so he wouldn’t be late for his shift, which began at ten. But after his cock-up this morning on the hill, he’d vowed to try and speak to her again. No way would he allow the sun to set on her outrageously low opinions of herself. And it had been his fault, after all. He’d bungled it, so shocked by her kiss and his instantaneous reaction to it, he’d muffed his words, leaving her feeling rejected. Nothing further from the truth.

  But he wasn’t an opportunist. The kind of man to shag someone vulnerable on a Welsh hillside and walk away, job done. And despite the way she’d glared at him, deep down he knew Eden wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl. Not anymore, even if she had once been. He’d had his share of hook-ups, long ago, before Megan, medical students notorious party-lovers, after all.

  Dan sucked a mouthful of his pint, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, which was tight with impatience. A most uncharacteristic emotion for him, and one he had no desire to make friends with. Fuck. He needed to explain.

  Eden had resolutely ignored him for the remainder of the day. Prickles danced beneath his skin like a bout of chicken pox. And not the good kind of prickles, either. The bad kind. The kind he never usually succumbed to. She was so completely … infuriating. Jumping to conclusions—the wrong conclusions—refusing to back down or even to listen, verbally lashing out. Why had he let her get to him? Why couldn’t he stay away? He’d managed to avoid entanglement for two years, much to Amelia’s disgust.

  But the kiss. Her soft lips, her moan, her fingers warm and impatient in his hair. His body had reacted to her with embarrassing eagerness, and it had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to pull back, to crush the moment. But he had. Out of a sense of propriety? Loyalty to a ghost? Or plain old fear?

  His eyes sought her out for the umpteenth time, burning when they settled on their prize. She sat surrounded by men, most of them, like her, armed forces. She seemed comfortable enough, her shy smile peeking out every now and then at some particularly bawdy joke or barrack room anecdote. But her dark eyes regularly slid sideways to the exit. This time, when she escaped, he would be ready.

  Which is how, ten minutes later, he found himself loitering in the car park at the front of the pub, waiting for her to emerge. She’d made her excuses, citing exhaustion for her early departure from the revelry. But to Dan’s advantage, she’d ducked into the ladies toilet en route to her escape. Time to stage an ambush.

  Her hackles rose when she spotted him and his heart sank. Guard up, defences fortified, mind made up, eh Archer? So be it.

  ‘I’m tired.’ Her head dipped as she strode passed him and headed for the road that would take her the short walk back to the hotel where they’d both be staying tonight.

  ‘Archer.’ His voice had never sounded more like a bark, but she kept going, her back rigid. ‘Wait, will you?’ Dan lengthened his stride, until he easily kept pace with her.

  His gut tightened even as he dug deep for his famous reserve of patience. ‘So let’s get this straight. You spend weeks pushing me away, and then you expect me to suddenly turn it on because you come over all sentimental on top of hill, staring at the sunrise?’

  She scoffed, her head shaking out her obvious disbelief, but she remained silent, her stare trained on the footpath in front of her pounding feet.

  Time to rattle her cage a little. ‘If you want to date, fine. But let me catch my breath here.’

  That did it. She spun on him, eyes blazing and her visible hand clenched by her side. ‘I don’t want to date.’ Her rose pink lips smacked together as she spat out the word. ‘Especially not you.’

  She was so gloriously riled up, sparks of gold flashing in her eyes and chest all puffed out. He wanted to laugh before kissing her until she used her mouth only for good. Dan held up his hands in supplication. ‘Hey, you kissed me.’

  Air gusted from her flared nostrils. ‘Well don’t worry. It was a moment of insanity that won’t be happening again.’ She stormed off, crossing the country lane towards their picturesque ivy-clad hotel.

  Dan checked for traffic and trotted across the road, quickly catching up to her.

  ‘I get it, Archer. I understand.’ He softened his tone to the one he used when kids came into A&E, their terrified eyes huge round windows to their souls.

  ‘What do you get, Dr Dan?’ She slammed into the hotel, pulling her room key from her pocket.

  Dan followed her down the carpeted corridor and up the narrow, creaking staircase. He didn’t want to do this here, to show her he saw the vulnerabilities she tried so hard to hide. Exposing her would sting. Better she think him a do-gooding, arrogant arse.

  Fortunately, the landing was as deserted as the downstairs entrance. He reached for her arm, his hand falling to his side when she tugged it away and glared.

  He longed to tear his own hair out. Whatever he said or did now would make everything worse. Make her hate him more. He sucked a deep breath in through his nose, deciding on honesty. ‘I didn’t want to stop kissing you this morning. I don’t feel those things you accused me of.’ He glanced up at the ceiling, seeking inspiration from the yellowing paintwork. Her self-esteem was balanced on a sharp peak, and she could fall either way.

  ‘Prove it.’

  His head snapped upright. ‘What?’

  Her hand fisted on the curve of her hip, her eyes huge in the gloom of the low wattage lighting. ‘You don’t find me physically repulsive?’ A sneer lifted her top lip. ‘You think I’m feminine, attractive?’ She jutted out her chin. ‘Prove it.’

  Dan hovered. Damn, she truly believed her own bullshit propaganda. Thought she’d call his bluff and watch him slink away. Well, fuck that.

  She grinned, part grimace with a glint of triumph. ‘Goodnight, Dr Dan.’ She turned away and crossed the short distance to her door across the landing.

  In two strides he was there, spinning her around and swallowing her startled gasp with his kiss. Tension uncoiled in him, flooding his muscles with pent-up energy until he tightened his grip on her, crushing her small body against his. He almost growled out his triumph when her hand reached for the back of his neck as he continued to work his lips over hers, teasing them apart, warm and pliant.

  When she opened her mouth, her tongue surging to battle with his, he groaned, reality clawing at his rapidly diminishing reason.

  He ended the kiss with one last firm press of his mouth, his determined stare latching on to her bewildered one. He pulled her hand from his neck, his fingers clasping hers with firm, unyielding pressure. If he let her slip away now, he’d blow it for good. Wether they acknowledged it or not, this step scaled a peak higher than any the Ruby Challenge could offer. For both of them.

  She followed him across the short distance to his room, their footfalls quiet on the dated patterned carpet. An unspoken truce insinuat
ed itself into the expectant silence. Despite her dare, mocking him to act, this wasn’t a game. Their chemistry, as inexplicable as it seemed to both of them, muscled in and wouldn’t be drugged, gagged or bound.

  Inside the room, he closed the door, backing her up against the wood, his neck resisting the tug she exerted to bring their mouths back together. Heat swelled and unfurled inside him, awakening the deepest corners of him, brushing away dust and cobwebs in its wake. Why her? This brittle, bruised woman? How had she bypassed his defences where others had failed?

  And still he’d yet to convince her. Her huge dark eyes held traces of doubt, their vulnerability snaking into his chest to coil like a vine, with the torturous path of his own.

  Pain. The emotional variety that set us apart as species. Its power to shape us, a humbling reminder of our fragility.

  But Eden wasn’t fragile. He didn’t see her that way. Her strength poured from her in waves of grit, determination and resilience. Could he make her see?

  She grew impatient beneath him, doubt creeping back in to her stare. Grinding his hips into her belly, he crushed his erection between them, his eyes practically rolling back in his head. ‘I want you.’ He lowered his mouth to hers, welcoming her answering kiss and the sexy whimper escaping her throat. Hear that. Believe.

  Need spiked inside him, tainting his blood until he feared he’d scare her away with its raw power. But she was with him, her hand fumbling at his waistband, yanking his shirt free, even as her mouth clung to his.

  Determined to make himself heard, Dan pulled back from the kiss, her swollen pouty lips wet with their combined saliva calling to him on some primal level he’d believed long extinct.

  Cupping her face, he tunnelled his fingertips through her silky straight hair, which had loosened from its ponytail and formed a wispy cloud around her flushed face.

  He licked his own lips, formulating a measured and undeniable message. ‘You’re not attractive, Archer. You’re breathtaking.’ His thumbs glided over the skin of her jaw, tracing the delicate outline of her features with a reverence that made her whimper.