Olivia Gates - Best of Desire

“Fine, so at least figure a way to mark your trail, so those looking for you can find you.”

“Good idea.” She gave him a wide smile and nodded as he showed her how to snap the ends of branches, or lay out rocks in an arrow pattern or— Oh, she thought, let’s face it. If she was lost up here, she’d probably die. So she just wouldn’t get lost.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I never left the lodge?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, straightening up to look down at her. “But you will. It’s in your nature. At least tell someone where you’re going when you do.”

“I can do that.” She smiled again. “You realize that you just admitted that I’m staying on?”

“I’m considering it. You passed that test,” he grudgingly admitted. “Though you still have to make the campfire yourself tonight and cook dinner you didn’t bring with you, not to mention making it back to the lodge alive.”

“I will.”

He ignored that. “We’ll find dinner, then the responsibility’s on you.”

“I can do it,” she said firmly. “You’ll see.”

He shook his head and sighed a little.

“So,” she asked, “what’s next, boss? ”

“We’re headed home. We’ll camp by the river again tonight on our way back.”

“Let’s go, Nikki,” she called out and the little dog raced back to her, ears flapping, tiny feet flying across the pine needle–littered forest floor. Nikki paused in passing Jericho long enough to snarl at him, then leaped into Daisy’s waiting arms.

He muttered something she thought it was just as well she hadn’t quite heard. Then she asked, “So why did you help me? You could have let me fail, but you didn’t.”

He shrugged. “You would have made it. Eventually.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she admitted, though it cost her. “I was beat and just hanging by my fingertips when you gave me that boost. So why?”

He stopped, looked back at her and with his features set in an unreadable mask, said simply, “I respect guts. And you’ve got ’em.”

When he turned around to continue leading the way to the river, Daisy inhaled sharply and felt a swell of pride rise up and burst inside her. It was a compliment casually given from a man who wasn’t used to giving them at all. She couldn’t have felt more proud and satisfied if he’d handed her a medal.

* * *

“You’re going to kill the bunny?”

Jericho heard the outraged tremor in Daisy’s voice and knew that he wouldn’t be eating rabbit stew for supper. He’d set the snare early that morning when they broke camp, knowing they’d be camping here again tonight. And he’d been pleased to find a nice fat rabbit waiting to be dinner. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

He looked up into her wide, distressed eyes. “It was going to be dinner,” he said.

“Oh, my God.” She looked at him as if he were some mad dog serial killer. “I can’t eat a bunny.”

“Yeah. I’m getting that.” The trapped rabbit scampered in place, desperately trying to get free of the rope that had tightened around one of its hind feet. Jericho looked at it and sighed. Then he bent down, loosened the rope and straightened up as the rabbit scooted off into the underbrush. Dry pine straw rustled under the animal’s running feet and then there was silence, the only sound the rushing of the nearby river.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Daisy said as Jericho turned to face her.

He shrugged off her gratitude. “You weren’t going to eat it so…”

“Thank you.” She said it simply and honestly and Jericho nodded.

“You’re welcome. Now, I’m going to go catch some trout for dinner—” He took a step, stopped and looked at her again. “Unless you’ve got a soft spot for fish, too.”

“Nope. Pan-fried, baked, grilled, barbecued, even smooshed in a blender to make a mousse,” she assured him. “I like it all.”

“Good to know,” he told her, shaking his head, “though here’s something to keep in mind if you do end up with this job…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t eat fish mousse.”

“I’ll make a note,” she said, one corner of her mouth lifting into a half smile.

“Good.” He turned around again, headed for the river, when Daisy stopped him by calling his name. “Yeah?”

She came to him in three long strides, wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hard hug. “Thank you. For the rabbit.”

She was so close, so warm, pressed so intimately against him that all of Jericho’s carefully designed reticence and resistance melted away. He’d been on edge for the past two days. Damn hard to maintain a tough shell around a woman so determinedly positive. But he’d cautioned himself to keep that safe distance between them. To not get drawn in by big amber eyes and a wide, welcoming smile.

But she was the kind of woman who got under a man’s skin whether he wanted her there or not. Hell, he’d been fighting the urge to kiss her for hours. No, that urge had been with him since the moment she’d first stepped out of her car to sprawl across his lawn.

Now, with her lush curves leaning into him and her full, delectable mouth curved into a smile directed at him, how was he supposed to resist temptation? He doubted any red-blooded male would have been able to.

So he did what his body demanded and silently told his mind to butt out. Cupping her face in his palms, he held her still and watched as her eyes widened, softened, then slowly slid closed. A soft sigh of anticipation slipped from between her lips and Jericho kissed her.

The first taste of her was electric—incredible—and only fueled his hunger for more. He deepened the kiss and felt her surrender. Felt his own body begin a slow burn that enveloped him from head to toe. He held her face and moved his mouth over hers, parting her lips with his tongue, sliding into her mouth to capture the essence of her and draw it into himself.

His body tightened until he thought he might just explode from the agony of want. She moaned softly and he echoed that small sound and felt it build within him. Seconds ticked past, became minutes and might have spun into hours and he wouldn’t have known. Wouldn’t have sensed anything beyond the sensations roaring through him.

And that random thought was enough to bring him up and out of those feelings like a drowning man breaching the surface of a lake. He came up gasping, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, his blood pounding in his ears. He’d lost himself in her. Completely lost control in a way that hadn’t happened to him in years. He didn’t like it.

She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. Her mouth was soft and lush and he wanted nothing more than to taste her again. To lay her down on the forest floor and bury himself deep inside her. And because that craving was so strong, he took a single, deliberate step back. What the hell was he doing?

If he had any sense left at all, he’d get her off his mountain so damn fast, she’d be nothing but a blur of motion. But could he not give her the job because he didn’t trust himself around her?

If he hired her, she’d be a constant source of temptation. If he didn’t, wouldn’t it be as if he’d sent her away for his own peace of mind? And wouldn’t that make him a damn coward? He’d promised Brant Saxon to help his sister if she needed it.

He owed that kid, too, Jericho told himself and briefly recalled the eager young man who’d died too soon. The guilt still haunted him. Regret a constant companion. Was Jericho really going to turn his back on a promise made to a dying comrade? Daisy Saxon was here. Now. She needed the help he’d once promised to give.

And if he turned her away, it would be not because she’d failed, not because she didn’t belong, but because Jericho King had encountered a woman who worried him.