Just Trust Me…

He chuckled and slid his arm more securely around her shoulder. The bus was filled to capacity with other hikers from various tour companies, two of whom they’d briefly chatted with prior to departing. The couple, Bill and Eileen Carlson, who Kayla judged to be in their late forties, hailed from Atlanta. They were going on the same tour as Kayla and Brett, but soon after the introductions, the bus had departed Cusco and hanging on for dear life had eclipsed conversing further with the couple.

“Definitely not the sort of limo an uptown girl like you is used to,” Brett said, his eyes filled with teasing warmth.

“Limo, my ass,” she replied, her teeth rattling. “I don’t ride around in limos. I walk everywhere. But you have to admit this road could stand a little repaving.”

“You’ll have to repeat that. I lost track of everything you said after you mentioned your ass, which is extremely fine, by the way.”

“It’s going to be sore and bruised after this.”

“Have I mentioned I’m an excellent masseur?”

“No, but I’m not surprised. You have very talented hands.”

“You inspire them. And a whole big bunch of fantasies, as well.”

“I’d love to hear them, but I’m afraid we might bite off our tongues if we keep trying to talk.”

“So I shouldn’t mention that our tongues figure prominently in my fantasies?”

Heat that had nothing to do with the hot, dusty ride whooshed through her. “Why don’t you hold that thought until we’re alone, and then you can show me?”

He grinned and her nipples hardened. Just like that. Damn, what this man could do to her with a simple grin was nothing short of absurd. And…wonderful. In a way she’d never before experienced. In a way she was liking far more than was wise.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

She laughed. “I’ve already shown you mine.”

“I know. And I can’t wait to see it again.”

God help her, neither could she.

Thankfully the bus driver slowed down, lessening the stomach-lurching jouncing, and Kayla took the opportunity to pull her small cosmetics bag from an outer flap on her backpack.

“My lips feel like the Sahara,” she said, pulling out her favorite La Fleur moisturizing lipstick. Before she could apply the soothing salve, he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers.

“They feel good to me.”

“That’s because I wear this…” She held up the slim tube. “Although keeping it on my lips has been a challenge with you around. You keep kissing it off.”

He stole another quick kiss then leaned back. “To use your question, is that a complaint?”

“To use your words, hell no.”

She felt his gaze upon her while she applied the sheer wash of glossy pink color.

He glanced down at her cosmetics bag and a teasing light gleamed in his eyes. “Makeup? On a hike, princess?”

“Hey, a girl needs her moisturizer and SPF protection, especially in the sun-drenched mountains.” After Kayla recapped the lipstick, Brett took the tube from her, his gaze bouncing from the flower image on the tube to the matching image on her cosmetics bag.

“La Fleur,” he said.

Of course, he would know. But most guys wouldn’t have a clue. So she swallowed her guilt and raised her brows, feigning surprise. “That’s right. How did you know? Keeping your finger on the pulse of the cosmetics industry?”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I recognize the flower. Their ads are on billboards all over Manhattan. You like their stuff?”

A fissure of relief worked its way through her guilt. At least she could honestly answer his question. “I do. I’m sort of a cosmetics junkie-I love trying new products. Out of all the stuff out there, and believe me there’s a lot, I like La Fleur the best.”

“Why?”

“The purity of their ingredients. Their color palettes. I’ve found that some cosmetics companies will carry one, maybe two products that I like-an eye pencil or a mascara. But with La Fleur, I like all their products.”

His gaze roamed over her face and he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. “You have beautiful skin.”

“Thank you. It’s courtesy of La Fleur’s coconut milk cleanser. It’s amazing.”

“If it keeps your skin looking like this, I’d have to agree.” A frown bunched between his brows. “So you’re really sold on this La Fleur.”

“Absolutely,” she said, meaning it. “Why do you ask? Looking to borrow my skin cleanser?”

Instead of smiling, as she’d hoped, he shook his head. “No. I guess I’m just…I don’t know. Surprised maybe, although that’s probably not the right word. I’m not crazy about La Fleur myself.”

Trying her best to look innocent and feeling like a complete heel, she asked, “You’ve tried their line of men’s products?”

“No. I’m just a soap-and-water kind of guy. I’ve had a bit of work-related contact with La Fleur and I was…less than impressed.”

“They treated you badly?”

A sheepish look crossed his face. “Not exactly, although I did find them annoying. But I suppose not any more so than any other cosmetics company I’ve dealt with lately. But I just have a bad association with La Fleur.”

Uh-oh. Nelson wouldn’t be pleased to hear this. “Why’s that?”

He hesitated, then said, “Because I attended a party La Fleur hosted and walked in on my girlfriend and one of their male models.”

She blinked. Had he just said girlfriend? “What were they doing?”

He shot her a look that clearly said, “Do you really need to ask?” Then stated in a clipped voice, “She was giving him a blow job, and he was praising higher beings.”

Dismay and sympathy flooded her, but then the significance of his other words dawned on her. At a party La Fleur hosted. The only party he’d attended that La Fleur had hosted had been…

The one she’d arranged.

The one he’d abruptly left, leaving her to explain his absence to some very unpleased corporate honchos.

“When did this happen?” she asked, needing to make sure.

“Two months ago.”

Oh, boy. Well, at least now she knew why he’d jumped ship. And in a blink, all the anger and resentment she’d felt at his abrupt departure evaporated, leaving her feeling like a louse for all the bad things she’d thought about him. She’d considered that he might have had a good reason for leaving the party, and he certainly had. The fact that he’d left after making such a discovery, without causing a scene, amazed her. She doubted she would have been so composed in a similar situation, a realization that did nothing to make her feel like less of a louse.

Kayla reached up to clasp his hand that rested on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. More than one boyfriend has cheated on me over the years, so I know how awful it feels, although I never discovered the betrayal in such a… graphic way.”

“It sucked.” He made a humorless sound. “No pun intended.”

“You’re not together anymore?”

His gaze turned cool and she immediately sensed his withdrawal. “No. I didn’t care to be with a liar, and she, clearly, had found someone else. And for the record,” he continued, his voice as cool as his gaze, “if I were involved with someone else, last night with you wouldn’t have happened. I have faults, but cheating isn’t one of them.”

She squeezed his hand, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t mean to imply that you would.” To her relief, the chill left his eyes at her apology, giving her the courage to continue, “What I really wanted to know, but asked very badly, was whether you’re nursing a broken heart.”

His golden-brown gaze rested on hers. “No. My heart is free.”

His words zinged a thrill through her that her common sense immediately squashed. What difference did it