Mr. Irresistible

by Karina Bliss

  She turned to look at Jordan. “Why have we stopped?” They’d only been in the water a couple of hours.

  “Got a lot on your mind today, Kate?” He grinned at her, a complicit smile full of promise.

  “No,” she said shortly. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I’m tired.” She shouldn’t have said that, either. They both knew the cause of her restlessness.

  Mike and Dillon beached beside them. “What’s up?” True to his word, Mike had dropped all his antagonism. The only undercurrents this morning had been in the river.

  “I need to assess a hazard.”

  Following the direction of Jordan’s gaze, Kate saw a place where the sprawling beach had created a bottleneck of white water. “It doesn’t look too hard,” she ventured. “Not compared to some we’ve navigated.” She experienced a brief stab of pride; she’d come a long way in a few days.

  “It wouldn’t be without the snag,” Jordan agreed, “but see the tree that’s fallen just in front of it?”

  She looked again and saw a spindly branch in the water creating a V in the current. “That little thing?”

  Jordan didn’t answer; he was studying the riverbanks. “Mike, I want Kate and Dillon to walk. You and I will take the canoes down.” He started unpacking one of the wet suits. Mike blinked, then beamed at Kate with too much smugness for her liking.

  “Wait a minute, why can’t I take one down with you?” she said. “I’m as competent as Mike, aren’t I?”

  Jordan’s hesitation was so brief she nearly missed it. “No.”

  “Liar.” She pulled out her own wet suit.

  Jordan folded his arms. “You’re not doing it, Kate.”

  “Tell me honestly,” she challenged, “what are the risks?”

  “From what I can see? Small,” he admitted. “But that’s the problem—most of the new snag is submerged. By the way the water’s flowing around it, I think it will be okay, but there’s a chance we’ll get pushed left.”

  Kate looked to where the water surged against the canyon wall, creating a backwash of large waves.

  “If that happens,” said Jordan, “we’ll capsize. However slight, there’s always the risk of injury.”

  “There aren’t any exposed rocks to smash into,” she said, “and if we fall in I’ll float on my back, feet first, so I don’t catch them on anything that will drag me under.”

  “Let me guess—When Rapids Attack.” He was trying not to smile.

  She pressed her advantage. “I’m a good swimmer, Jordan, probably better than Mike. Tell me honestly, is there a reason, other than my being female, for not letting me go down?”

  “You’re being female has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then why?”

  “I don’t know,” he conceded. For some reason the idea of Kate taking a minor risk made him feel sick.

  “Then I’m going down.” She disappeared into the trees to get dressed.

  Dillon said, “If she can go then why—”

  “Don’t even start, Dillon,” said Jordan, pointing him toward the bank. “And what are you smiling at?” he snapped at Mike.

  “Nothing.”

  Kate came back in her wet suit, looking like a cross between a mermaid and a seal. She hauled on her life jacket again. Jordan checked it twice and spent the next five minutes outlining his approach strategy and reiterating safety instructions. “If we tip, swim straight to shore. Don’t worry about the canoe, I’ll take care of it. Mike, you and I will go first.”

  Kate watched them slip through the gap without incident, and wondered why Jordan was making such a fuss. It seemed easy enough. She told him that when he walked back. “You just concentrate,” he warned her.

  “Piece of cake.”

  THEY FELL OUT. It was her fault.

  Blinded by spray, Kate had wiped her eyes and the current ripped the paddle out of her other hand. The canoe shot into the backwash and a wave crashed over the bow, filling it with icy water. Maneuverability lost, the craft spun astern and the next wave flipped it.

  Kate had no time to take a deep breath. One second she was grabbing for her paddle, the next tumbling in a pounding swirl of white water, with no idea which way was up. So much for floating on my back.

  She popped to the surface and gasped a lungful of air, frantically scanning for Jordan. Her terror gave way to relief when she spotted him beside the canoe. He waved and wrestled the craft toward shore. Kate swam to help him, and over the noisy churning he yelled, “Swim to safety, now.”

  Obediently, she staggered into the shallows. Jordan floated past, fully occupied with the canoe. Beyond him, their paddles drifted lazily downstream.

  Instinctively, Kate dived back into the water. They were easy to overtake, but the current, swifter than it looked, swept her around a bend in the river.

  The gorge rose steeply here, with few egress points. She kicked furiously toward one, and ended up nudging a steeper bank downstream. Tossing the paddles onto shore, she grabbed a tree root and hauled herself up the incline, grimacing as her bare shins scraped on stones embedded in the clay.

  Wet and bedraggled, she rested until she got her breath, then scrambled to her feet. This narrow section of gorge lay in deep shade, which colored the river inky black and gave the air a graveyard chill.

  Elated that she’d saved the paddles, Kate didn’t care. So what if she had to walk back through a half kilometer of inhospitable bush? As long as she stuck to the river she wouldn’t get lost. Doubtfully, she regarded the immediate area and saw that the other shore offered a better route.

  Shivers racked her body as she gauged the distance to the opposite bank. Best to go now, before hypothermia set in. Bundling up the paddles, Kate slid awkwardly down the slope.

  “Stay there, damn it!” Glancing upstream, Kate saw Jordan paddling toward her, Mike and Dillon behind him. Even across the stretch of water she could see he was furious. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Kate held up the paddles proudly. “I got them,” she called, then noticed he held one. Before she could process that, the canoe nudged the bank. “Get in.” He steadied the craft with expert strokes while she scrambled aboard, then struck out for a clearing on the opposite shore. “I specifically told you to swim to safety.”

  Huddled on the seat, Kate couldn’t stop shivering. Somewhere along the way she’d ripped the leg of her wet suit. Great, now nothing she owned was in one piece. “I s-saw the paddles disappearing…I never thought we’d carry spare ones.”

  “That’s the trouble with you—you don’t think.” The canoe hit the shore with a bump. Jordan jumped out and hauled it across the pebbles, with her still in it.

  “It’s just as well my b-bottom’s numb,” she protested, “because this would really h-hurt.”

  He lifted her out of the boat. “Guess there’s no point in spanking you, then. I’d want it to hurt.” He set her on her feet, then tightened his arms around her. “Don’t ever frighten me like that again.”

  She clung to his warmth. “I’m a strong swimmer. There wasn’t any risk.” He was shaking, too; she could feel it. “Jordan?”

  He bent his head. “Stop fighting this, Kate.”

  His mouth was warm against her ear; his breath tickled the fine hairs at her nape. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down Kate’s spine. She only needed to turn her head to kiss that mouth, to ignite the passion that was always a heartbeat away, no matter how she tried to deny it.

  Her head turned of its own volition.

  There was a shout to her left and the other canoe beached. Kate stepped back as Dillon jumped out and ran toward them. She’d never been so pleased to see anyone in her life.

  She hadn’t slept much last night, but she had reached a decision. Regardless of their new understanding, regardless of her immense attraction to him, Jordan was still a loose cannon, with no history of fidelity or stability or any of the things she needed. And she wasn’t getting involved with him.

  JORDA
N DOZED in the sun, his T-shirt a makeshift pillow. His mouth looked fuller without the sardonic smile that always hovered there when he was awake. And his long, curved lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, smooth above the burnished stubble on his jaw.

  God, he was sexy. Kate wrenched her eyes away and took another bite of her apple. Calm down, Eve, she told herself. Remember there was a fall at the end of the Garden of Eden story.

  “Oh, no,” Mike cried, “Jordan’s fainted again!” He and Dillon cracked up laughing; Kate chuckled.

  The man in question stretched lazily, rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, his hair falling over his broad brown shoulders. “Aren’t you getting sick of that joke yet?”

  The three of them looked at one another and laughed again. “Nope,” said Mike.

  Absentmindedly, Kate scratched a mosquito bite on her leg and cringed at the stubble. Jordan must be desperate if he found her attractive, looking like this. She might be scrubbed civilized with the daily assistance of a billy of hot water and a flannel, but she had to look a mess in Dillon’s tight T-shirt, and the old track pants of Mike’s, and with her hair a riot of curls.

  It had rained off and on all night and morning, and this break in the clouds wasn’t enough to dry out her own clothes. On the other hand, paddling through the wilderness with lipstick on was plainly ridiculous—unless she wanted to impress someone—which she didn’t. Oh, God.

  Kate flung herself down on her blanket. She only had to keep her traitorous emotions in check for the next twenty-four hours. Once she was back in the city she’d come to her senses. She tried to conjure a picture of her real life, but the image wavered. No service, she thought sadly, closing her eyes. The navy cotton T-shirt acted as a heat sink, catching the sun’s rays and radiating them through her exhausted body.

  Dimly she heard Jordan say, “Okay, Mike, I can see I’m going to have to buy your silence. What’s your price?”

  A raindrop woke her, a cold splash on her face, and Kate opened her eyes to see gunmetal-gray clouds charging across the sky like tanks.

  “She’s awake,” she heard Dillon say excitedly. “Kate, come and say goodbye.”

  Obediently, she got to her feet. Wait a minute…goodbye?

  His life jacket on, Dillon sat in the canoe, paddle at the ready. Jordan was explaining a map to Mike, who was also wearing his life jacket. “When you come to this S-shaped bend, you’ll see a rock formation to your right.”

  “Where are you going?” Kate managed to keep the panic out of her voice as she hurried forward.

  “There’s an ancient Maori pa site up this tributary that Mike wants to see.” Jordan pointed to the stream flowing into the river. “He and Dillon are going to check it out.”

  Another raindrop splashed on Kate’s shoulder. “Well, let’s get going then.”

  Mike looked guilty. “Well, we’re kinda using it as a chance for a little father-son bonding, Kate, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” She glanced at Jordan to see how he was taking it. He looked very relaxed. “In fact, I think that’s great.”

  “That was Mike’s price for keeping the needle-phobia quiet.” Jordan read her mind. “It seemed fair.”

  “Wow,” she said, “I’m impressed. You two are really acting like grown-ups. Well, have a good time and we’ll see you later.”

  A look flashed between the two men that reminded her more of two impish boys. Grinning, Mike got in the canoe. “See you tomorrow at the rendezvous, then. Shove us off, will you, Kate?”

  Instead, she clutched the gunwale. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, we’re camping overnight,” Dillon enthused. “It’s gonna be so cool.”

  “You seem to be having a bit of trouble there, Red.” Jordan unwrapped her fingers from the gunwale and gave the canoe a light push. It floated into the river, and Mike and Dillon began paddling. The occasional raindrops became a light drizzle.

  Kate realized Dillon was waving, so she waved back.

  “Well,” said Jordan, “that just leaves you and me to act like grown-ups.”

  She remembered the look that had passed between him and Mike, and her temper began to rise. “This is a setup, isn’t it?”

  “I thought you wanted us to work together?”

  Her waving to Dillon became frenzied. “You low-down, sneaking—”

  “Relax, Kate,” he soothed. “Mike wants to spend time alone with Dillon and I want to spend time alone with you. Other than that, the ball’s in your court.”

  Strangely, that thought didn’t hold the reassurance it once had. Dillon and Mike disappeared from sight.

  “It’s raining,” she said. “We need to make camp.”

  “We’ll push on…our last campsite is still two hours ahead.”

  Alarm bells started ringing in Kate’s head. “Wait a minute.” She stared at Jordan in horror. “We only have two tents, and if they’ve taken one…”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  IT RAINED AND it rained and it rained. It felt as if it had always been raining.

  Mechanically, Kate punched the paddle forward into the water, too tired to wipe the drip off the end of her nose. She distracted herself by thinking of other words for being wet. Drenched, soaked, saturated, sodden.

  The rain had even dampened her resentment toward Jordan. But it hadn’t been extinguished. It flared again now. “There’s one solution to this,” she yelled over her shoulder. “You’re sleeping outside tonight.”

  “In this weather? You’re crazy.” He grinned. “What’s the matter, Red, scared you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

  Kate gritted her teeth and resumed paddling, replacing water words with killing words. Shoot, blow up, spear, impale.

  The wetter they got, the more odiously sanguine Jordan became, whistling as the clouds darkened and the rain escalated to a pounding deluge.

  When Jordan finally called it a day, dusk was falling, cloaking the icy rain.

  Muddy puddles forced Kate to detour onto slippery gradients as she trudged up and down the slope leading to their campsite, unloading the canoe while Jordan remained at the top, pitching the tent.

  Water trickled down the back of her neck and exhaustion made her careless as she jogged down the hill on her fourth run. So what if she fell? Lying anywhere would be a relief.

  Famished, she stopped to open the food barrel, but her hands slipped as she wrestled for a grip on the lid. Cursing, she balanced it on the gunwale and finally succeeded in getting it off.

  Her eyes fell on the brandy and she pounced, her chilled fingers fumbling with the steel cap. She took a swig and grimaced, but then the fire hit her belly. Ah, heat. Rain pounded on her upturned face as she took two more gulps. Feeling more cheerful, Kate seized the barrel and returned uphill.

  Jordan passed her going the other way, and she sucked in her breath to hide the brandy fumes, then castigated herself for cowardice. As if his invasion into her life wasn’t enough, he now exercised an insidious influence over her behavior, as well. The barrel landed among the bags with a thud.

  Forgetting that her work was done, she half skidded, half stumbled down the slope and discovered the canoe empty and Jordan tipping the water out of it. Now I have to climb this bloody hill again—and for nothing.

  Skirting a large puddle, she slipped into the muddy wallow. What the hell, I can’t get any wetter. Her boots squelched as she walked straight through it. She was halfway up the hill when Jordan called, “Hey, Red, aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Kate looked down to where he stood at the water’s edge. “The canoe,” he explained patiently. “I need your help to move it to higher ground.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Let it be swept away. I never want to see it again.”

  “I know just the place we can build a cabin.”

  Muttering, Kate stomped back down. Jordan had stripped to his boxers, and the rain slicked the chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen.

  He noticed her star
ing. “No point wearing wet clothes. You might want to do the same.”

  She tore her eyes away from his biceps. “Some of us prefer modesty.”

  “So a wet T-shirt competition doesn’t have any appeal?” Kate glanced down, saw her nipples darkly outlined under the wet cotton, and slammed her palms over her breasts. “Pity.” Jordan shrugged. “You would have won hands down.”

  “You are…” Kate searched for words scorching enough to melt that grin right off his face, but she was too tired to be clever. While she was thinking, the rain drizzled to a stop. At Jordan’s signal, she hoisted her end of the canoe. He moved to the middle to minimize her load, using her as a balance rather than a bearer. For some reason that made her madder.

  “Let’s go.” He moved lightly over the rough ground, and Kate quickened her stride to keep up with him. Partway up, he indicated an area to one side of the track.

  The canoe landed in the grass with a sound like a soft sigh, and Kate knew how it felt. She stretched to loosen her back, then hurriedly crossed her arms as Jordan’s gaze followed the movement. “Not one word,” she warned.

  His eyes widened innocently and she saw exactly how he must’ve defended himself as a boy. Except he was one hundred percent adult male. “Okay, mister, you go first.” From the way his wet boxers outlined his ass, she wasn’t letting him walk behind her, either.

  Resolutely, Kate looked north and was captivated by the undulating muscles of his upper body. One foot slid out from under her, she lurched forward and landed with a squelch in the soft clay.

  For a moment she lay with her cheek glued to the mud, the smell of rotting forest sharp in her nostrils. Then she hauled herself upright.

  Jordan avoided her baleful stare as he scanned her for injury. “Are you hurt?”

  Was that a tremor of laughter? Kate stiffened. “Only my pride…and my temper.”

  He turned away too quickly and she narrowed her eyes. The shaking in those shoulders was unmistakable. All the week’s frustration exploded in a cleansing rage.