Just Trust Me…

dressed before you hauled ass to the kitchen tent.”

“Not true. I was dressed. Did you see me haul my naked ass to the kitchen tent? No, you did not.”

“A technicality-although I have to admit that’s a sight I wouldn’t say no to seeing. And now you’re cheating again-trying to distract me by mentioning your naked ass.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Is it working?”

“Yes. So cut it out.”

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re all frowning and fierce.”

His lips twitched, but he recovered quickly and glowered at her. “Stop that. The point is you led me to believe that we had to get dressed. You dashing out of the tent wearing only my flannel shirt does not constitute getting dressed.”

“I disagree. All my pertinent parts were covered.”

“Barely.” His scowl deepened. “I thought Miguel’s and Alberto’s eyeballs were going to pop out on springs-right after they picked up their jaws from the ground.”

As much as she was ashamed to admit it, she couldn’t deny the feminine thrill that curled through her at the jealousy in his disgruntled tone.

“Don’t be silly. They didn’t say a word about it.”

“That’s because they took one look at you, all sexy and tousled and bare-legged and sexy, and swallowed their tongues.”

A bubble of laughter tickled her throat. “Good grief, I wear less at the beach.”

A low groan passed his lips. “Which makes me wish we were at the beach.”

That makes two of us, Mr. I Want to Get My Life Back in Balance so I’m Gonna Take a Freakin’ Four-Day Hike in the Freakin’ Mountains Where Freakin’ Bathrooms Don’t Exist. “You’re just upset that you didn’t think of not putting on all your clothes before leaving the tent.”

“And do you know why I didn’t think of that?” Before she could answer, he leaned closer and said in a stage whisper, “Because I’m not a cheater.”

She raised her chin, refusing to acknowledge the warmth that spread through her when their shoulders bumped. “There’s a difference between cheating and finding a legitimate loophole.”

He snorted. “Legitimate loophole…that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one.”

“The problem is that you’re looking at this with a glass-half-empty mindset. Instead, you should be thanking me for my ingenuity.”

“How do you figure?”

“Jeez. For a guy with a Ph.D., you sure are slow to grasp the salient point. If you’d won, I’d owe you one flesh payment. Because I won, you owe me two.” She inched up her chin another notch. “I think I’m insulted that you’re complaining.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining. And I’m not failing to grasp anything. I had no intention of making it to the kitchen before you. I would have spent half an hour tying my boots if necessary to insure you left the tent first.”

She stared at him, nonplussed, then sputtered, “You mean you let me win?”

“With two flesh payments on the line? Hell, yes.”

“But…but that’s cheating!”

He laughed. “Now that’s like rubidium calling cesium an alkali metal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, I don’t know what that means, Mr. Science, but I’m guessing it’s along the lines of a dog calling a cat hairy.”

“Exactly.” He waggled his brows. “And thanks to my delaying tactics, I’ll not only get lucky twice, I also got to enjoy the view of you all bent-over and pantyless while you struggled to get out of the tent before me. Gotta tell ya, Kayla, it was one hell of a fabulous sight.”

“Humph. I think I’m mad at you.”

“Great. I’ll get make-up sex, too. And then there’s also the matter of that erotic massage someone we both know mentioned.” A positively wicked grin curved his lips. “Wow. This is the best four-day hike ever.”

It was nearly impossible to keep a straight face, but she tried. “You are completely incorrigible.”

He shrugged. “Sticks and stones and all that jazz. Now you’ve merely given me more incentive to inspire you to find other, more complimentary, words to describe me.”

“What makes you think I’ll come up with anything more complimentary than incorrigible? ”

His gaze wandered down her body, the blatantly lustful fire in his eyes sending a surge of heat right into her socks. By the time his gaze settled again on hers, she felt as if she’d been roasted over a barbecue spit. “Based on me losing our wager, I have at least two opportunities to inspire you,” he said in a low, compelling voice. “And I intend to do so.”

Good grief, they must have hiked significantly closer to the sun because it was hot out here. The thought of all the delicious things he’d do to her so thoroughly hazed over her brain receptors, Kayla had to shake her head to clear away the lust-induced fuzz. “Looking forward to that.”

An understatement if she’d ever uttered one.

“Good.” He shot her a wink, then a slight frown formed between his brows. “You said something about me having a Ph.D. How did you know that?”

Her footsteps faltered and her breathing stuttered at the instant realization she’d made a mistake-because he’d never mentioned having a Ph.D. She knew he’d earned his doctorate because of the file La Fleur had compiled on him. Guilt nearly strangled her, warring with a sense of relief that he might figure out the truth and she’d be finished with her distasteful mission.

Still, her promise to Nelson weighed heavily on her mind. Didn’t she owe it to him, if not actually to spy on Brett, then at least not to screw up La Fleur’s chances of winning his formula? Yes, she supposed she did. And then there was the matter of the bonus, perks and promotion Nelson had hinted at-very tempting in spite of herself. But she liked this less and less. And herself less and less right along with it.

She forced a smile and hoped she didn’t look the way she felt-like a deer caught in the headlights. “You must have mentioned it.” Ouch. Her conscience slapped her hard for that one and she barely managed not to wince at the blow.

“I didn’t. I rarely mention credentials unless I’m specifically asked. Otherwise it sounds like I’m pushing an agenda or showing off.”

“Oh.” Jeez, could she feel any worse? The man was not only a genius, he was modest, too. “I guess I just assumed, what with you teaching a class at Columbia and all. I wouldn’t think such a prestigious university would hire anything less than the best and brightest to teach all those brilliant students.”

She was saved from finding a way to change the subject when Paolo halted the group. “The trail will become steeper and more rugged from here and you’ll notice our current sub-tropical vegetation, which is quite dense, changing as we gain altitude. The next ruins are at Llullucharoc, about an hour’s steep climb. I caution you all to watch your step and regulate your breathing. Keeping conversation to a minimum will help, although feel free to speak if you feel capable. If anyone needs to slow down or stop, please signal me.” He flashed his bright smile. “We do not want any casualties on the trail.”

Everyone fell back into line and Kayla pressed her hand to her jittery midsection. “Casualties?” she whispered to Brett. “Jeez, that Paolo. He’s a laugh a minute.”

He chuckled and reached out to squeeze her hand. “You have a last will and testament, right?”

“Oh, you’re hysterical, too. Really. You and Paolo should take your comedy tour on the road.” Even as she said it, she was damn glad she did have a last will and testament.

Following Paolo’s instructions-because she had no intention of becoming a hike casualty-she focused on the trail and her breathing. The terrain was indeed rough and steep, and her lungs and legs burned with the strenuous uphill climb, none of which was helped by the ever-thinning air and the load of crap she lugged on her back.

By God, if she was ever insane enough to do something like this again-not that she ever would, but just in case a rock hit her in the head and she became that insane by mistake, she would make damn sure she packed less crap. If she was going to lug anything heavy up another mountain, it would have Porta Potti written on its side.

That was, of course, assuming that she survived this excursion up the