Kimberly Meter - The Flyboy's Temptation

“Yeah? Why is that?” she asked, laughing past her embarrassment. Would he be shocked to know her panties matched? “You think smart girls don’t like to feel pretty?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t make a habit of shacking up with smart girls,” he admitted with a shrug that was sexy as hell even if his quip did send her internal feminist into a tizzy.

“Which begs the question...what do you have against smart girls?”

“I don’t have anything against smart women,” he said, clarifying. “I try to avoid smart and beautiful. Seems a dangerous combination. And complicated.”

“Only for a man who isn’t secure enough to handle being with one.”

J.T. staggered as if he’d been shot. “Ouch. You got me.”

“Not that I care what your preferences are,” she said, needing to make that clear, not only for J.T., but for herself. “I’m just making an observation.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

The word chest made her think breast and reminded her of how J.T. had caught an eyeful, and her nipples pearled when her mind wandered to things best left alone.

J.T., the opportunist, laughed, his green eyes twinkling. “Catch a breeze?”

Hope scowled and started climbing the short bank, needing space between herself and J.T. She could still hear his quiet chuckling from behind her, but before she could whirl around and remind him of their professional relationship, her gaze caught the most beautiful sight in all the jungle—a road!

Embarrassment forgotten, Hope pointed, exclaiming, “There’s a road up ahead. Do you think it’s safe to follow?”

He didn’t have a definitive answer, but they didn’t have much choice. They both knew they couldn’t hole up in the jungle for much longer. “We’ll just have to take our chances,” he said, taking point.

“That sounds dicey,” Hope said, but she agreed it was a risk they had to take. “Here’s hoping we’re not hopping from the frying pan to the fire.”

The road wasn’t exactly maintained by modern standards. In fact, it seemed more of a suggestion than an actual roadway, but at the very least they weren’t fighting jungle branches and slipping in mud up to their knees with every other step, and for that she was grateful.

Bare-chested brown children with shaved dark heads, wearing threadbare cotton shorts, stopped their play to smile shyly at the strangers who had shown up unannounced while the adults assessed them.

The fact that the locals wore Westernized clothing was the one small clue that they weren’t in the most remote village in the Lacandon and that gave her hope. Well, that and the fact that there was an actual road running alongside the village. She’d never been so happy to see asphalt.

“Does anyone speak English?” J.T. asked, looking for anyone who might be willing to serve as a guide. “Anyone?”

Murmurs rippled through the group as they each turned to one another. Then they motioned a young man to come forward.

“We need a guide to get us back to a city with an airport,” Hope said, offering a friendly smile. “We can compensate anyone who offers to help.”

J.T. shot Hope a quelling look that warned, Don’t go mentioning money in a place where 80 percent of the population live well beneath the poverty line and eat dirt cookies for breakfast, but she knew offering something of value was the only way they’d get them to budge.

A young teen with an oily shock of black hair hanging in his face spoke up. “I speak English,” he said, pushing his hair from his dark eyes. “There’s an airport in Comitán, about a four-hour drive from here.”

“What village is this?” J.T. asked.

“Lacanjá.”

“Lacanjá,” Hope murmured, looking to J.T. “So we are on the southern edge of Mexico, near Guatemala?”

“Fair assumption.”

“What’s your name?” Hope asked the young man.

“Juan,” the teen answered. “Welcome to our village. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Starved,” Hope answered, her stomach grumbling. “Is there someplace we could get something to eat?”

“Sí, Campamento Vicente Paniagua—you will like.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hope said, looking for confirmation from J.T. When he gave her a short nod, she fell in line behind Juan, so grateful to be heading someplace somewhat civilized.

Maybe if they were lucky, they could be back in the air and back on schedule by tomorrow morning.

And then she could shelve these intrusive thoughts of hard pecs, solid thighs and the feeling of J.T.’s arms wrapped around her.

5

TO HIS SURPRISE and Hope’s delight, Campamento Vicente Paniagua was a nice little place that actually catered to ecotourists eager to experience something a little more adventurous yet still retain the comforts of home, such as running water and toilets.

And they took credit cards, which was a huge relief, as he hadn’t exactly been able to grab his wallet before the mad dash to avoid getting killed and Hope immediately pulled out her company American Express.

“You ain’t kidding about the deep pockets,” he said, gesturing to the black American Express card. “Not many companies hand those out to their employees.”

“I’m not just any employee.”

“I gathered that.” He dug into his plate of black beans and rice, never so happy in his life to stuff his mouth with the simple staple, but that first bite was nothing short of exquisite. Hope did the same, actually groaning with pleasure as she chewed. At the sound, J.T.’s overactive imagination was only too happy to supply alternate ways to make her moan. Cut it out, Carmichael. Eat your beans. And whatever you do, don’t dwell on the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about that damn pink-heart bra covering those sweet breasts.

He actually choked a little, attracting Hope’s attention, but he betrayed nothing that would give away the thoughts running like dirty monkeys through his mind.

“Juan said it will take a day to find a truck to take us to Comitán, but in the meantime we can stay at the Ecolodge. He assured us that the accommodations are very good. I told him as long as it has a bed and a bathroom, I’m grateful.”

“Now that we’re not jumping off cliffs and dodging bullets, I can take a moment to appreciate the natural beauty of this place,” she said, as if they were just vacationing Americans.

Juan reappeared with an eager-to-please grin and gestured to them. “Your room is ready,” he said, adding helpfully, “Honeymoon suite.”

“Oh!” Hope’s eyes widened, immediately looking to J.T. for backup, but he was actually glad for the single room. Although the risk was smaller with an obviously tourism-oriented village, he figured there was safety in numbers. Particularly for a beautiful redhead with legs for days.

The harsh truth was that human trafficking was alive and well in Mexico, and the sexy scientist would certainly turn heads.

“That’ll be fine,” he said, shocking Hope with his agreement.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. “I think I can afford to spring for two rooms.”

“That’s not the point. Safety in numbers. We’re not in Idaho.”

His meaning sank in and Hope nodded with dawning understanding. “That’ll be very nice, Juan,” she said, giving him a few American dollars from her pack. “Please show us to our room. I’m ready for a bath and a soft bed.”

Juan led them to the Ecolodge and J.T. was suitably impressed with how clean and resort-like the accommodations were. Thank God for Americans’ need for comfort.

They walked into the honeymoon suite and immediately they both centered on the huge bed dominating the room with the gauzy mosquito net draped over it.