by Thea Devine
Easy for him. Even in his midsixties, he was fit and trim from playing tennis and golf and occasional rowing. Other than bicycling twice a week, several daily trips to the refrigerator was the extent of her exercise routine.
“Actually, I was thinking about a windjammer cruise.”
His eyebrows rose. “Aren’t those booked up to a year in advance?”
“I was hoping for a cancellation.”
He gave her a long measuring look, and then took the paper from her. “You’re right. You probably couldn’t handle this, anyway.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s all right, Jordan. I’ll give this to Tom in the mailroom. His vacation is coming up and I think he’d be interested.”
“Tom?” The little twerp who’d hit on her his first week on the job? Definitely not the outdoors type.
“Yes, he’s quite the athlete. Ran four marathons in the last two years, and I believe competed in one triathlon.”
“You’re kidding!”
Patrick shook his head, and then started to go.
“Wait.” She held out her hand. If Tom could do this camping thing, she sure as hell could manage a week without a microwave and blow-dryer. Besides, Patrick said it was guided.
“Good for you, Jordan,” Patrick said, returning the paper to her, a spark of triumph in his eyes.
“Right.” She wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d been hoodwinked. Patrick knew she was too competitive to ignore the challenge. But so what? How much choice did she have?
She stared at the writing on the piece of paper. One week, just her, the great outdoors and a seasoned guide. Maybe this was just what she needed to start the creative juices flowing again. How bad could it be?
2
ZACH WILDE normally didn’t meet the clients at the airport himself, but it was an unusually busy season and the company was down two employees this month. That put pressure on everyone, from the woman who took reservations to the shuttle driver who made the airport runs.
Since he had only one pick-up, he took one of the small Jeeps, parked it in the lot and then jogged to the terminal. He got to baggage claim just as a stream of passengers arrived at the turn-table. One woman wearing jeans and a designer polo shirt stood out in particular, although why he couldn’t say. Maybe because at first glance she reminded him of Sandra Bullock. Average height, maybe five-five, with nondescript straight shoulder-length brown hair, dark eyes from what he could see.
Or maybe what had gotten his attention was the confident way she seemed to lead the pack. Going straight for the moving bags and plucking a medium-size black, leather duffel-style one out from the jumble of plaids and canvas. She seemed to be traveling alone, which meant she could be Jordan Samms. Oddly, he hoped so.
He wore a white T-shirt bearing The Great Beyond logo on the breast pocket, so as soon as he approached her she lit with recognition, and made no bones about sizing him up.
“I think you’re here for me,” she said, and transferred her bag from her right to her left hand. “I’m Jordan Samms.”
He nodded. “Zach Wilde.”
“Wilde?” She grinned as she accepted the hand he offered. “Appropriate.” And then she frowned. “Are you my guide or just picking me up?”
“Your guide. Any more bags?”
“This is it.”
That left him pleasantly surprised. People tended to bring double that amount of luggage and then he had to be the bad guy and remind them they could only take what they could carry on their backs.
“Good.” He took the bag from her and she didn’t protest. “The Jeep isn’t parked too far away. Is this your first time extreme camping?”
She fell into step beside him. “Does it show?”
He smiled. “Hope you brought lots of sunscreen.”
She grimaced at her milky-white arms. “I don’t have much time to dawdle out in the sun.” She transferred her gaze quizzically to him. “The ad said seasoned guide.”
“And you expected Grizzly Adams?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, far from it.”
He slid her a sidelong glance, but she didn’t look back. Just smiled. A sly, sexy smile that got to him in a way it shouldn’t. This one was trouble. Maybe he should find a female guide for her. No, everyone else was booked. That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to take this on himself. The other was that the travel agency that gave them most of their bookings had called in a favor for an important client. He didn’t think it was Jordan, personally, although she gave the air of someone in power.
He stowed her bag in the back of the Jeep, and then they both got in. As light as her luggage was, she was going to have to downsize the contents by a third. He’d break the news when they got to base camp.
“Is this your first time here?” he asked as they left the parking lot.
“Yep. Never been to Idaho before.”
“Beautiful country.”
She nodded absently as she dug into her brown expensive-looking leather purse. A second later she produced a cell phone. “Excuse me, I have to check in with my office.”
“Sure.” Zach just smiled. That was probably the last time she’d be using that phone for a week. She wouldn’t be happy about that, but tough. He knew her type. Too well. He’d been there once. A mere four years ago. Working so many hours that one day spilled into the next. No more. Not him.
“I’m not getting a signal,” she said, frowning at her phone. “That’s not possible.”
“You will in about three minutes.”
She kept trying, groaning in frustration.
Fine. He’d told her it would be another three minutes. Let her make herself nuts. Him, he was enjoying the scenery even though he’d seen the acres of fir trees thousands of times. He’d paid for most of college spending summers renting out kayaks and guiding rafting trips three miles from here. Still, he never got tired of it.
She finally gave up and looked around. “That wasn’t much of an airport.”
“No, but it serves its purpose.”
She fidgeted for a minute, and then glanced at her watch. “We leave first thing in the morning, I assume.”
“We still have six hours of daylight.”
“We’re leaving today?”
“Why not?”
“No last meal, or anything?”
Zach laughed. “I take it this was not your idea.”
She went back to feverishly looking for a signal. “This isn’t good. If I’m having trouble here, what happens once we’re on the trail? Oh, here we go. Thank God.”
A trail? Ms. Samms was in for a big surprise. Zach kept driving, trying not to listen to her conversation and seriously thinking about asking Rachel to switch clients with him. The problem was that her couple was a repeat and had specifically asked for her as a guide.
“Damn it. I got cut off.”
“Jordan, why don’t you try to relax?”
She looked at him as if he’d cursed at her. “You don’t understand. I can’t be out of contact.”
“Then you have a decision to make,” he said, pulling over to the side of the road. “Either you give up your cell phone, or I take you right back to the airport.”
JORDAN STARED into his vivid blue eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“I’m paying for this thing. You can’t tell me what to do.” She didn’t care if he was just about the most gorgeous man she’d met in forever.
“I’ll give you a full refund, which is against policy, by the way.”
“Just because I won’t give up my cell phone?” Now, she was angry. Who the hell did this guy think he was?
“Ms. Samms, we’ll be rafting for thirty-two miles, then we’ll hike through a canyon into the mountains and not return for a week. How much reception do you think you’ll get?”
“I figured that much,” she said, avoiding his pointed glance. Actually, she hadn’t thought that t
hrough. This wasn’t good. She needed to check in at least once a day.
“So the problem is what exactly?”
She hesitated. “Telling me I have to give up my cell phone is not the same thing.”
“You’re right. I made my point badly, but if you’re going to be miserable and worrying about what’s happening at the office the entire week, this isn’t the right vacation for you.”
Jordan looked away. She couldn’t even use the lack of phone service as an excuse to cancel. Knowing Patrick, isolating her was exactly what he wanted. “Okay, I get it. No phone.”
“We’re good then?”
“We’re good.”
He pulled back onto the highway, and she slid a look at the way his thigh muscles bunched when he worked the clutch. His skin was a healthy golden bronze she envied, and his light-brown hair was streaked from the sun. Damn him, but he had a perfect nose. If she could pick one out of a catalog, that would be it. He had to be the poster boy for the company. If The Great Beyond were one of her clients, she’d use Zach for the advertisements in a heartbeat.
“I might as well tell you, too, that you won’t be able to take everything in your bag.”
“I purposely packed light.”
“I’ll admit you did an admirable job, but remember, you have to carry your own pack.”
“Oh.”
“In addition to a couple of items of clothing, you’ll want sunscreen, of course, and bug repellant and small personal hygiene products.”
“Who carries the food? You?”
He laughed, and she didn’t like the sound of it. “We’ll eat whatever we catch or find.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He cocked a brow at her before returning his gaze to the road. “Did you read the Web site at all?”
She cleared her throat. “Actually, no. Not all of it.”
Zach smiled. “You’ll enjoy it, Jordan. There’s no feeling like it on earth.”
“What?”
“Being one with nature. Relying on yourself to survive. Knowing you can overcome any obstacle set before you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sitting on a beach, sipping a cocktail at sunset ain’t too shabby.” She sighed. That’s exactly what she should’ve done. Booked a suite in San Diego. Get a little sand between her toes. Soak up some sun. Overindulge in piña coladas, and maybe find a willing partner for a couple of nights.
“Having second thoughts?”
“Actually, I’m on about my fourth thoughts.”
He looked over at her. “It’s not too late to turn around.”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“Nope. Actually, I’d hate to see you wimp out.”
Jordan glared. “Save the psychology for someone who’ll buy that crap.”
He chuckled. “Okay, I’d just hate to see you miss out.”
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
“True.” He started to say something else but apparently reconsidered. Instead, he said, “We’re here.” And then steered the Jeep down a dirt road in the middle of a forest of conifers.
“How can you tell?”
He ignored her sarcasm. “You’ll have one last time to use a real bathroom, make a phone call and I’ve reserved a locker for you to store the things you won’t be taking.”
She saw a clearing and then they came to a couple of buildings. Two large vans were parked off to the side, as were several more small Jeeps like the one they were in. Beyond that was a river with kayaks lined up along the side.
“So this is it, huh?”
“This is base camp, yes.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “With all the amenities of home.”
Zach opened his door. “One night sleeping out under the stars and you won’t even think about home.”
“Wanna bet?”
He smiled. “Let’s go get you checked in.”
“Never mind the stars,” she muttered as she got out of the Jeep. “Sleeping in a tent is roughing it enough for me.”
“Well, that’s going to be a problem.” He hefted her bag out of the back. “We’re not taking a tent.”
3
ZACH SMILED as he carried her bag toward the office to get her checked in. A step behind, nose wrinkled, she hadn’t commented over the lack of a tent. Probably too busy wondering if she should turn tail and run. Naturally, he wouldn’t talk her out of it if that’s what she wanted, but he would be oddly disappointed.
She had a certain spark that appealed to him. And although it seemed clear this vacation wasn’t her idea, at least she wasn’t a whiner. He looked over at her. “Who twisted your arm to come?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “My boss.”
“Ah. What would you say your fitness level is?”
Her eyebrows rose indignantly.
“We ask everyone. In fact, you’ll be given a waiver to sign.”
“So that if I keel over halfway through the week, you won’t be held responsible?”
He smiled. “Something like that.” They got to the office and he opened the door for her. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape. We don’t have a problem, right?”
“Good enough to keep one foot in front of the other. Rock-climbing? No.”
“Fortunately, that’s not on the schedule.”
Jordan entered the small, cramped office, turning to meet his gaze. “A schedule? Good. I’d like to see it.”
He’d walked in behind her. Sally, one of their most tenured employees, was manning the desk and she looked up, trying to hide a smile. “That was a figure of speech,” Zach said, shaking his head. “Here you go, Sal. Got one fresh off the boat.”
“Funny.” Jordan gave him a dry look, and then turned to Sally. “You look like the person in charge. Please explain why there is no tent involved in this trip.”
Zach put down the bag near the door where he waited. This was going to be an interesting week. He didn’t say anything, just let no-nonsense Sally handle Jordan while he got a good look at the way the light-blue denim stretched across her backside. Nice and round. Good to hold on to.
He forced his gaze away, surprised at himself. Not just because she was a client, as good a reason as that was to stay clear of her, but because he’d had little interest in women since his divorce.
“If you weren’t going to be out for a week,” Sally was saying, “then you’d have more room and weight allowance to pack a tent.” She passed Jordan the standard agreement and waiver forms. “As it is, you’ll be carrying a forty-pound pack with your clothes and sleeping bag and personal items. You’ll need to read and sign these forms, and of course, if you have any questions…”
“He carries the food?” Jordan asked with a nod in his direction, otherwise barely acknowledging his existence.
Sally’s amused green eyes briefly darted to Zach. “I’m going to let you two figure that out. How about a bottle of water?”
Jordan murmured a thanks and skimmed the forms, frowning occasionally. She signed each of them with an illegible signature and then pushed them toward Sally and picked up the bottle of water Sally had set down.
Between the desk, two chairs, a filing cabinet and a small refrigerator, the office was crowded. The staff took turns checking people in. None of them were the type who wanted to be cooped up indoors. Sally normally handled the kayak maintenance and scheduling, and hadn’t guided since she’d had her second child last fall but for a moment Zach thought about asking her to take Jordan for the week.
With a weathered hand, Sally pushed the short, choppy blond hair away from her tired face. “Zach, would you like me to show Jordan to her locker?”
“I’ve got it.” He picked up her bag. “See you in a week.”
“Good luck.” Sally grinned. “Both of you.”
Jordan sighed loudly. “Why do I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter?”
SHE WAS definitely out of her league. Nodding congenially to two passing athletic-looking blond Amazons wearing real
ly cool hiking boots, Jordan switched the bag from her right to her left hand, swearing it hadn’t been this heavy after she’d packed it last night. It was all her fault for allowing Patrick to bully her into taking this vacation. She didn’t deny her part. He’d brought up the supposed prowess of wussy Tom in the mailroom, and she’d taken the bait—hook, line and sinker. And now she was thinking in really bad puns.
Vacations were supposed to be fun, not torturous. Especially when you paid a small fortune for the pleasure. What a racket this extreme business was. Marketing genius, really. Tack the trendy word on and hike up the price of the package. Wished she’d had thought of it.
The locker key Sally had given her making a painful imprint in her palm, Jordan took an extra step to keep up with Zach. Yeah, he had great buns and normally she’d be enjoying the view, but right now all she wanted was to dump her bag. She knew full well why he’d let her carry it and why the locker room was clear across the parking lot. Made a person think twice about how much they wanted to lug on their back for the next week.
“Here we go.” Zach opened the door to a huge room, the walls lined with lockers, and then took the bag from her and swung it up onto a large table set up in the middle of the room. “Sort the things you’re taking, and I’ll go get your pack.”
“Yes, sir.”
A faint smile lifted his lips, and then he headed toward the back of the room and disappeared through a door. But not before Jordan got her fill of his sculpted thigh muscles. The man was a god. He had to be in his midthirties but he’d compare favorably to the fittest twenty-year-old. She sighed and unzipped her bag. Her, not so much. Too fond of potato chips. Movie popcorn was nothing without butter.
Peering into her bag, she groaned. Here she thought she’d done pretty well minimizing, but she could see that she needed to be more ruthless. Obviously all the makeup would stay behind. But not the mascara. That would be insane. She set aside an oversize bath towel that she would take and then considered the three pairs of jeans and running shorts.
“No shorts,” Zach said, making her jump because she hadn’t heard him approach. “You’ll get too scratched up where we’re going.”
