by Nicola Marsh
That was when it hit him.
The pampered princess had guts. Grit and determination and the drive to really make a go of this.
He would’ve valued those traits in any other employee, had seen them in Claudia…but he didn’t want to compare her to Claudia, knew any slight similarities would only serve to make him harder on her.
After the way she’d handled her first test, she didn’t deserve that.
He had the problem, not her. It wasn’t just the kiss that had him so rattled. Uh-uh, it had started around the time he saw the genuine appreciation for this place in her eyes, her awestruck expression that told him she got it, that there was no place on earth as special as this.
Maybe he’d misjudged her? Was there more to the Princess than met his appreciative eyes? Only one way to find out.
‘What happened in Sydney?’
Jade stiffened, her fingers convulsing around the straps of the life jacket she was checking.
She’d rather discuss that cringe-worthy kiss where she’d more than embarrassed herself than rehash her past.
‘Nothing as important as getting this job done.’
She continued running her fingers along the straps, almost jumping out of her skin when he laid a hand on hers.
‘Leave them. I’ll get the boys to finish up.’
Snatching her hand out from under his on the pretext of standing, she shoved off the locker and put some distance between them.
‘What’s this? I passed your test so now we move on to the next stage, interrogation?’
She expected him to bristle, to instantly retreat. Instead, his wry smile eased the tension lines around his mouth.
‘Fair call.’
He pointed to the life jackets. ‘You passed, by the way. Fastest time on record too.’
‘I ran all the way.’
Her calf and thigh muscles twanged to underline the fact. Knowing her luck, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days.
‘That’s nuts.’
‘Only way to prove to you I’m not some weak female playing winter dress-ups in the wild.’
‘I never thought that.’
She shook her head. ‘Don’t lie. You have this tense muscle thing in your neck going on when you do.’
To her amazement a faint blush stained his cheeks. ‘If I know what’s motivating you to be here, maybe I won’t be so tough on you.’
‘Don’t do me any favours,’ she muttered as a spasm shot up her back and she bit back a groan.
He wouldn’t give up. She could see it in every stubborn line of his body. Fine. She’d give him the abbreviated version.
Easing onto a log and trying not to wince, she folded her arms on top of her knees and rested her chin on top.
‘I had a glittering social life in Sydney. Rich family. Only kid. All the perks.’
Or so she’d thought, until she’d confronted those closest to her and the world as she knew it came crashing down around her diamond-studded ears.
‘You didn’t like it?’
Her forced chuckle sounded bitter. ‘I liked it just fine. Lapped it up from a young age, enjoyed all the trimmings.’
‘So what made you leave it all behind?’
‘I told you, my fiancé cheated on me.’
‘Your fiancé?’
She nodded, absent-mindedly rubbed the base of her left ring finger where Julian’s three-carat rock had resided; until she’d flung it at him on her way out of the door of his multimillion-dollar Double Bay mansion.
‘All seemed so natural. Exit finishing school, enter perfect guy hand-picked by Daddy.’
‘You were coerced into an engagement?’
She shook her head, remembering the first time she’d met Julian. How she’d been blown away by his manners and chivalry and polished good looks; how he’d made her innocent heart pitter-patter with his practised kisses; how he’d made her feel as she’d felt her whole life: cherished.
What a crock.
‘Nothing like that. My dad moves in posh circles, so did Julian. He introduced us, we hit it off.’
Hugging her knees tighter, she blinked back the sting of bitter tears. ‘The usual boring story. Whirlwind courtship. Magical proposal. All very glamorous and exciting and…’
‘And?’
‘Fake, the lot of them—it,’ she amended, but not before she’d seen his raised eyebrow.
‘Them?’
She shook her head. Discussing Julian with Rhys was bad enough. Having to tell him the whole sordid story of how she discovered her fiancé was a rat? No way.
‘My parents are into the whole appearances thing, too. I’ve had a gutful.’
‘So this job is an escape route? A whim to temporarily take your mind off it?’
She frowned at his judgement. ‘You think I’m running away. I prefer to call it getting a much-needed wake-up call. Time to follow my own dreams rather than living up to the expectations of other people’s.’
His jaw clenched as he absent-mindedly rubbed it, piquing her curiosity. By all accounts he was footloose and fancy-free. What would he know about living up to others’ expectations?
‘Once I gain my biology degree, sky’s the limit. I want to travel the world, researching the ecology and physiology of plant and animal species. Ideally, I’d love to prepare environmental impact reports for industry and government. You know, make a real difference.’
The reluctant admiration in his gaze made her want to preen. ‘Can’t fault you there. One of the reasons I became a park naturalist was to make a difference. I used to survey various parks, determining forest conditions and the distribution of fauna and flora, conferring with local councils on preserving a park. I loved it.’
He glanced around, his eyes drawn to the glacier shimmering in the distance. ‘That’s why I started my own tour company, so I could share a small, unique part of this beauty with people who might appreciate it, even if they only saw one tenth of what I did.’
Jade stared, mesmerised by the animation in his face as he spoke about his work. She’d never seen this side of him and it surprised her.
‘Which parks did you work at?’
‘You name the park, I’ve probably worked there. Started at Acadia National Park in Maine, moved on to White Mountain National Forest in New Hampshire where I used to lead a four-mile hike up Champney Falls Trail to the summit of Mount Chocorua.’
He screwed up his eyes, dredging up memories she sat forward to hear. She’d never seem him like this: blue eyes glowing yet unfocused, lost in reminiscing, his mouth relaxed, his hands animated.
‘Then there was Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina. From the summit of LeConte Mountain you could see the amazing fall colours of maples, beeches and oaks in the valley below. It was awesome.’
‘The only hike I’ve ever done in the States was in Yosemite. About six miles up to Vernal-Nevada Falls and I still remember the beauty of the dogwoods and maples covering the valley floor.’
He must’ve heard the wistful yearning in her voice. ‘Sure you want to hear me rave on?’
She nodded, wriggling her fingers in a give-me-more gesture.
‘Okay, you asked for it.’ He held up his fingers, ticked points off. ‘Throw in Chippewa National Forest in Minnesota, Targhee National Forest in Idaho and my Alaskan adventures and there you have it, my complete park naturalist CV.’
‘So why did you swap that for a desk, if you loved it that much?’
He avoided her eyes, staring out over the vista instead. ‘You know why.’
‘Work-place accidents happen all the time. That shouldn’t stop you.’
Shadows shifted in all that deep blue.
‘I needed a change.’
He swept his arm to encompass the stunning vista in front of them. ‘This will always be here. I can come back any time I want.’
His defiant declaration challenged her to deny his claim. She didn’t. There was more behind his reticence to return to the wilderness he loved a
nd while she harboured her own secrets it’d be unfair to push him to reveal his.
‘Speaking of heading back, I need a long, hot bath before my muscles seize.’
Seeing another side to him, hearing the passion for nature in his voice—a passion that matched her own—only served to draw her closer, something she couldn’t afford after that kiss. A kiss they hadn’t talked about and for now she’d like to keep it that way.
‘You did good, by the way.’
His gruffness was underlined by admiration and she smiled.
‘Thanks, Ranger. I’m made of sterner stuff than you think.’
Pity a cramp in her calf had her tumbling off the log as she tried to stand, making a mockery of her declaration. She bit her lip, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
‘Easy does it.’
Her pride took a well-earned rest as he helped her up and with a muttered ‘Thanks,’ she headed for the path.
She should be mad at him for putting her through that stupid test, should be angry at his lack of faith in her abilities.
However, as she hit the path and her legs silently protested at the increasing incline, she knew the build-up of lactic acid in her screaming muscles wasn’t half as dangerous as the build-up of a monster crush on her boss.
Chapter Nine
JADE winced as she tweezed the last splinter from her hands, flexing her fingers and wishing she hadn’t when the latest blister popped.
With a self-pitying sigh, she rummaged in the first-aid kit, doused the blister in antiseptic before sticking a Band-Aid across it, another to add to her collection.
She managed a wry grin as she studied her hands at arm’s length, hands once treated to a French manicure on a weekly basis and now resembling something from a horror film with her split and cracked nails, calloused palms and multi-plastered fingers.
Not that she minded. These hands were testament to days of hard work, where she’d groomed trails, cleared forest growth and chopped wood.
While she’d been walking like a saddle-sore cowboy for days, and her muscles continued to protest, the fact she’d tackled every task gave her a sense of satisfaction she’d never imagined.
It hadn’t been easy, far from it. Working in the wilderness was nothing like the gentle hikes through the Blue Mountains that she’d loved, or exploring ice caves in the Alps.
She’d always adored the cold and, combined with her love of nature, Alaska was her dream destination. Mentally, she was on the page. Physically, her cosseted body had a lot of catching up, toughening up, to do.
Snapping the first-aid kit shut, she shoved it into her backpack, checked the next job on her list and frowned.
Time for some one-on-one time with the boss.
Her induction week had been manic, giving her little time to ponder the consequences of that mind-blowing kiss when she’d rocked the boat, literally. Thankfully, Cody and Jack had given her most of her training and she’d barely had time to assimilate one piece of information before being bombarded with another.
The guys were patient, Rhys less so. He had high standards, demanding nothing less than perfection. She could handle it. What she couldn’t handle was his cool composure bordering on abruptness, as if that make-out session in the canoe never happened and he clearly blamed her for it.
When they’d talked about their mutual love of nature after the kiss, she’d harboured a hope they could forget it and move on. By his curt manner over the last week, he’d reverted to treating her as an employee, a recalcitrant one at that, rather than someone who understood what it meant for him to be back here.
Reaching the shed, she dropped her backpack, stretched out her kinked back muscles and donned her chipper professional mask, the one that had made her face ache with the effort over the last week since the ‘kiss that shall not be discussed’.
He glanced her way with the briefest nod.
‘Itinerary clear?’
His tone clipped, Rhys checked the wet-weather gear for the fifth time that morning.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded. ‘That’s only the hundredth time you’ve asked me.’
He lifted his head from the task at hand, his stare imperturbable. ‘No harm in being prepared.’
‘You can’t always be prepared for every eventuality.’
‘What would you know about it?’
Keeping her mouth shut would’ve been the smart thing to do, but she’d had a gutful of his unflappable attitude and his annoying ability to act as if nothing had ever happened between them.
‘Plenty.’
She planted her hands firmly on her hips, staring him down, daring him to argue.
He straightened and she silently cursed for noticing how hot he looked: taupe trousers accentuated his long legs and a green polo shirt with the Wild Thing gold emblem, a bald eagle in flight over the left breast pocket, hugged his broad chest. The uniform did little to detract. If anything, the deep green highlighted his brooding dark looks to perfection.
‘So, you think a week out here makes you an expert?’ His eyes narrowed, a dangerous gleam in their indigo depths.
‘No, though I think I’ve learned enough to be a competent performer.’
‘This isn’t a circus.’
‘Hard to tell, what with you behaving like a clown.’
His mouth twitched before he frowned.
‘Don’t push me, Jade.’
His low voice rumbled like thunder on a stormy day and sounded just as threatening. She ignored the warning. She could handle whatever he dished up and more.
‘Is that a threat?’
‘No, it’s a promise.’
He shrugged, turned away, as if their conversation was wasting his time.
‘Then why are you acting as if nothing happened between us?’
He stiffened, her flyaway comment hitting him right between the shoulder blades if his rigid posture was anything to go by. Good. That meant she had his attention and maybe they could confront the proverbial giant bear lurking in the woods and move past this continual tension.
‘I asked you a question.’
For a moment she thought he’d swivel back to face her when he shifted weight onto his other foot. Instead, he headed for a nearby shelter and started checking the endless rows of plastic overalls.
‘We’ve got work to do.’
She should leave it alone, leave him alone. But she couldn’t stand another day of his offhand treatment, let alone another week.
Following him into the shelter, she picked up a clipboard and pen, ticking off inventory. When the frigid silence grew, she couldn’t stand it any longer.
‘Or maybe you’ve forgotten about it? All in a day’s work—’
‘Forgotten? I’m going crazy wanting a repeat performance.’
His blunt declaration knocked the wind out of her as she scrambled for something to say, something other than, ‘I want a repeat too.’
‘Oh.’
He raked a hand through his hair while she dragged in a few breaths, her earlier sass depleted. This was where prodding a grizzly got her: sore and sorry from being bitten.
‘Look, I’m not an idiot. There’s a spark between us. I’ve just got enough happening without added complications.’
He couldn’t meet her eyes, his pained expression making her want to reach out despite being labelled a ‘complication’.
‘Problems?’
‘Apart from you?’
His wry grin didn’t ease the caution in his eyes.
‘Something with the upcoming tour? Anything I can do to help?’
He shook his head, his jaw clenched. ‘I need to handle this myself.’
It hit her like ice calving off a glacier. What was really bugging him, and she could’ve slapped herself upside the head for not realising sooner.
‘The first tour’s coming up—must be hard on you after what happened on your last trip out here.’
An employee had died and she’d left it alone in the aftermath of t
heir kiss and her rigorous training schedule.
It stood to reason he’d be nervous and if that was the reason he hadn’t been back here since…heck, he was probably going through some major stuff.
He flipped through the plastic overalls as she stepped in front of him. ‘Tell me.’
‘In the past. Let’s leave it there.’
‘We could, but I reckon you’re on some kind of guilt trip over that death. Might help to talk about it?’
‘Don’t you ever quit?’
She tilted her chin up, used the stare she’d given Julian when she’d told him what he could with his three-carat diamond engagement ring.
‘Not in my vocab. So what happened?’
The respect in his eyes made her feel as if she’d just gained a promotion.
‘You’re not going to give up ’til I tell you?’
‘Damn straight.’
‘Fine.’
He jammed his hands into his pockets, jerked his head towards a nearby bench hewn from pine.
‘Claudia had worked the tours for a year, thought she knew everything backwards. Other employees said she was a know-all, overconfident, but I let it slide because she was damn good at her job. I used to do regular tours in those days…’
He trailed off, pain pinching his mouth. She stayed silent, giving him time, trying to ignore the warning signs that his audible agony, his obvious devastation, were more than that for a lost employee.
‘Certain glaciers are off-limits. Claudia knew the ones but ignored the rules, wanted to get some hot pics for an article she was writing for a travel mag.’
Running a hand across his jaw, he turned to face her, his bleak expression clutching her heart.
‘She rowed out, climbed onto the glacier, got killed in an avalanche.’
‘I’m sorry.’
She reached out, covered his hand with hers, half expecting him to jerk away, surprised when he turned his palm over and clasped hers like a lifebuoy.
‘Coroner’s investigation cleared the company of any liability, but it was my fault—’
‘No!’
She squeezed his hand, so tight he had no option but to look at her.
‘I should’ve reined her in. Read the Riot Act, done something.’
