Just Trust Me…

“Honey, you were.” She cocked a brow. “Is that a complaint?”

He huffed out a laugh at the way she kept asking him that question. “Hell, no. Except that you’re now full of vim and vigor and I’m ready for a nice long nap.”

She shook her head. “Typical man. Well, forget it. We have gear to pack. A bus to catch. Miles of rough terrain to hike.”

“You’re killing me.”

She laughed, then pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “C’mon, lazybones. You’ll feel better after a nice, hot shower.”

His hands swept over her lush bare bottom. “I think perhaps my strength might be returning. But if we take a shower together, we might never leave this room.”

“We have to leave this room-and soon. We only have one condom left.”

She squealed with surprise as he reared up to a sitting position. “Talk about incentive. Hang on, sweetheart.” After she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, he snatched up the last condom, grasped her beneath her bottom, then headed toward the bathroom.

“Hmmm, it would appear the word condom has the same effect on you as spinach had on Popeye,” she murmured, nibbling on his earlobe between words.

“So it would seem, although scientific logic would dictate that it isn’t the word itself but the person saying it that caused this sudden boost in energy.”

“Again, good to know.”

“I don’t suppose you know how to say condom in Spanish?” he asked, reaching behind the shower curtain to turn on the water.

“I don’t suppose I do. But I bet if we went to a store and kissed passionately in front of the clerk, he’d get the idea.”

“Problem is, once I start kissing you, I can’t seem to stop. Instead of ending up with condoms, we’d probably end up with arrest records.”

“True. Luckily I have an English-to-Spanish dictionary back at my hotel.”

“So you’re not only gorgeous and sexy and hot enough to set water on fire-you’re also very handy to have around.”

She traced his bottom lip with her tongue and his body leapt to life. And he realized there was no point in even trying to deny that this woman posed a serious risk to his heart.

“Right back at ya,” she said, her lips curving into a sexy smile. “And as soon as we get in that shower, I’ll show you just how handy I really am.”

He immediately stepped beneath the warm spray of water, knowing that his heart was quickly slipping from his grasp and not giving a damn. “Sweetheart, consider me more than willing to be shown.”

9

FIFTEEN MINUTES into the three-and-a-half-hour bus trip-and she used the term bus lightly, as the vehicle was actually a van that looked as if it had belonged to a group of Haight-Ashbury hippies-to the hike start point and Kayla realized that she clearly was far too accustomed to luxury. Her butt was numb from the hard, worn, springless seat and she clung to the metal railing next to the open window-aka the air conditioner-with a white-knuckle grip. The wind whipped her hair across her eyes, a blessing because the less she saw of how close the vehicle frequently came to scraping the huge boulders that lined the bumpy road, the better.

The instant the driver had thrown the vehicle into gear, they’d zoomed off at what felt like a breakneck speed and her heart had lodged in her throat, a place she suspected it would stay.

Still, the scenery-when they emerged from the boulders-was breathtaking. A palette of greens and browns rising up the sides of the majestic Andes, set against a brilliant blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, the perfect backdrop for the array of small, picturesque villages they passed.

Besides the scenery, the only other good thing about the bone-jarring, teeth-clanking drive was that it gave her something to think about besides the man sitting next to her. Or at least it should have. But somehow, even faced with the possibility of bruises and being shaken apart and splattered against a gargantuan rock on the bus ride from hell, her mind remained focused on Brett. On the incredible night they’d spent together. The extraordinary way he’d made her feel. And not just when they were making love-although there was no denying he was great in bed. And on the balcony. And in the shower. And against the wall…

She pressed her lips together and tried to corral her runaway thoughts. But he’d made her feel just as incredible when they’d simply sat and talked. He had a way of looking at her, of focusing on what she said, of really listening, that was extremely flattering. And very attractive. He asked insightful questions and offered spot-on observations, some serious, some humorous, and she found herself engrossed in just talking to him. Watching his beautiful lips form words. The man had the most distracting mouth…

She mentally looked skyward. Good grief, she sounded like a school girl nursing her first crush. Yet, how could she not, when that’s exactly how she felt? Just sitting next to him on this bouncy, dusty ride made her heart race.

But now that they were no longer naked, therefore allowing her to think straight, she needed to get hold of herself and recall why she was here.

The formula. Dr. Thornton’s miracle aphrodisiac wrinkle-reducing cream.

Problem was, it was nearly impossible to equate the Dr. Thornton she’d come to dislike in New York with Brett, the charming American tourist whom she liked very much. Too much. So much that it seriously frightened her. Because in order to do her job, there was no getting around it-she’d have to be dishonest with Brett and also reveal anything he told her to Nelson. She could try to pretty that up and sugarcoat it as much as she wanted, but the bottom line was that she was lying. And betraying Brett.

And that was not sitting well at all this morning.

But what choice did she have? La Fleur was poised to join the ranks of the world’s largest cosmetic companies, a step that would surely happen if they had a product such as the one Thornton laid claim to. Ensuring that La Fleur won the product would be an amazing coup for her-a professional feather in her cap that could open countless doors if her spying mission successfully secured Brett’s formula.

And all she had to do was hide the truth regarding where she worked and why she was here. That would be the lying part, Kayla, her inner voice informed her. Oh yeah, and report any confidential information she managed to finagle out of Brett regarding the formula to Nelson. And that would be the betrayal part, Kayla, her inner voice coldly added.

As if she didn’t know.

As if that didn’t make her heart and stomach and, hell, her entire insides ache with an unpleasant sensation that felt like an allover cramp-the result of her conscience squeezing her.

Fine. So she’d compromise with her conscience. She wouldn’t go out of her way to solicit information from him. But hey, if he volunteered the information, well, she certainly wasn’t deaf. She could hardly slap her hand over his mouth and say, “Don’t tell me anything because I’ll use that information against you.”

No. Especially since she was convinced that La Fleur really was the best company to manufacture his formula, provided it lived up to the hype. Which was one of the things she needed to discover. So, at least for now she’d assuage her conscience by not actively seeking tidbits from him, but if some happened to fall in her lap, well, all bets were off.

There. She felt better now. Sort of. Okay, not really, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

The bus careened around a corner, seemingly on two wheels, and she closed her eyes. When they were once again on a straightaway, she turned toward him and said, “I think they subject you to this bus ride before the hike so that the trek up the mountain seems like a piece of cake in comparison.” She winced when her ass smacked down against the seat courtesy of a pothole of a size even Manhattan had never seen.