by Karina Bliss
Dad didn’t look any happier. “We lost because we’re a man and a kid against two adults, that’s all.”
“Well, yeah.” Hadn’t Dad seen that Jord was doing most of the work? Dillon picked up his paddle. He used to think it would be exciting to have his father back in his life; as he’d gotten older, he’d grown curious about him. But he was finding it a little disappointing.
Not that Mike wasn’t nice or anything. He always tried to arrange something fun to do together and he had rad computer games—because that was his job, computers. Mum hadn’t wanted Mike back in Dillon’s life to begin with, but lately that had changed. A lot. Dillon had caught them kissing last week, though they pretended he hadn’t.
If Mum wanted to remarry Dad, that was fine by Dillon. He liked Mike…except when he got sad. Dillon glanced back. He looked kinda sad now, and it made Dillon uncomfortable.
“Let’s catch up to Jord.” Jordan was never sad.
“ANDY!” JORDAN BELLOWED, clearly frustrated. “For the last time, stay with the group!”
Oh, great, thought Jordan. Just bloody great.
Andrew stopped paddling, but his scowl told everyone what he thought of the idea.
His nephew was supposed to be showing Kate how well Jordan got on with teenagers.
Being charming was going down like a lead balloon with Kate, and Mike wasn’t helping by snorting after every compliment.
Isn’t anyone on my side?
Dillon paddled past and gave him a big smile, and Jordan’s mood lightened.
“Listen up, everyone,” he called. “There’s a pebble beach half a kilometer downstream. We’ll call it a day there.”
The two canoes drew abreast of Andy’s kayak. “But it’s only lunchtime,” Andrew complained. “Normally, we’d paddle five or six hours before making camp.”
“Yeah, mate, but we’ve got two novices on the trip in Mike and Kate,” Jordan explained patiently. “I think three hours is enough for their first day.”
“He’s insulting us, Kate,” Mike said jovially. “Are we going to take it?”
Kate glanced over her shoulder at Jordan. “Don’t hold back on my account. I exercise regularly.”
Resisting the urge to say he already knew that from admiring her hot bod, Jordan processed his response through the charm filter. “You certainly seem very fit, and I think it’s wonderful that you find the time with your busy schedule.” Oh God, he sounded like his mother.
Looking a little startled, Kate took another couple of strokes, her paddle cutting through the water with a flourish. “And this is easy when you get the hang of it,” she conceded.
“No, you’re naturally gifted.” She turned away in disgust, and Jordan didn’t blame her. He was starting to hate himself.
“What a greaser,” Mike hooted.
I’ll kill him.
Ignoring Mike, Jordan addressed Kate’s back. “You might be fit, but are you paddling fit? Andy, Dil-boy and I will be okay, but if you two want my advice—”
“We don’t, do we, Kate?” Mike interrupted. “Without giving her a chance to answer, he paddled alongside. “Stop being a spoilsport, King. You don’t have to be in charge all the time, do you?” Jordan noticed Dillon looking uncertainly between them.
“Fine,” he said lightly. “You set the pace today, Mike.” And live with sore muscles tomorrow, you cocky bastard. Because I’m not fighting with you in front of Kate. Or Dillon.
If the river conditions required it, he wouldn’t hesitate in overruling Mike. But they were on a calm stretch of water. And Jordan itched to give the man a lesson in why he should obey his expedition leader. Speaking of which…
“Andy!” he bellowed. “Stay with the group!”
THE CANOE ROCKED unsteadily as Kate clambered onto the long shingle bank. Ignoring Jordan’s proffered arm—attached as it was to an obsequious smile—she stretched her aching arms high above her head.
“I’m fine,” she said firmly, crunching over the stones on legs that had somehow forgotten how to walk. “Where are the…facilities?”
All the males grinned. “You’ll find a long-drop up the path to the left,” said Jordan. “Grab a stick for the cobwebs if you don’t like spiders.”
Kate tried to look unconcerned.
“Oh, and you’ll be needing this.” He unscrewed the lid on one of the waterproof barrels and tossed her a roll of toilet paper.
“Want me to check it for you first?” Dillon offered. He was such a sweetie.
“I think I’ll be okay,” she said, then noticed his disappointment. “Actually, I’m only pretending to be brave. Thanks, Dillon.”
Delighted, he picked up a big stick. “Follow me.”
Trailing the boy up the track, stomping to warn the wild animals they were coming, Kate thought, Who am I kidding? I am pretending. She was so far out of her comfort zone here she would have sworn she was on another planet.
She had wanted to stop for the day much earlier—her arms ached; her legs had pins and needles—but she hadn’t wanted to be the girlie-girl spoiling everyone’s fun.
And she didn’t want Jordan to know she had a weakness; he’d just find a way of using it to his advantage. If anything, the morning had only strengthened her dislike for him. He must have a very low opinion of her intelligence if he thought he could flatter her into thinking he was a great guy. What a…a—Kate recalled Mike’s term and bit her lip—greaser.
Her faith in Jordan’s ability to lead them safely back to civilization had also been badly shaken. He’d let Mike—a beginner—tease him into relinquishing control of the schedule. From Kate’s point of view, that was a crazy thing to do. And inexplicable. It was obvious the two men were jealous of each other’s relationship with Dillon.
Dillon came out of the outhouse covered in cobwebs. “All clear.”
Kate gulped and took the toilet paper. “You know what?” she said. “Maybe I’ll go behind the outhouse.”
“But that’s where I put all the spiders.” His brown eyes were very earnest. “I got rid of ’em all, I promise. Even the weta.”
Knowing the native New Zealand crawler was now outside with her, Kate hurried into the dimly lit shed. The old wooden door creaked as she closed it. “Wait for me?” she whispered through the crack.
“Sure,” Dillon said.
On the way back to the river she asked him how he knew Jordan.
“He dated my mum.”
“Oh.” Not another married woman. Now, Kate, she warned herself, don’t jump to conclusions. “But your dad wasn’t living with you,” she prompted.
“Oh, no.” Dillon swung on a low tree branch. “He’s only been around for a year. Jord dumped Mum way before that.” He let go of the branch and landed lightly on his feet. “Only I forgot that we don’t call it that anymore. Now Mum and Jord say they ‘drifted apart.’ I wonder what’s for lunch?”
“CAN I GO EXPLORING?”
Jordan looked up from repacking the remains of lunch. He’d insisted Kate sit down and rest, and Mike had taken it as an invitation to do the same. Now he and Kate were having the bonding conversation Jordan desperately needed with her.
“Sure, Dil-boy. Take your dad with you.”
“He said he’s relaxing.”
“Okay, take Andy.”
Lying outstretched on the shingle, his eyes closed, Andrew sighed. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
Grumbling, the teenager got to his feet. Jordan steered him out of earshot. “Okay, what’s this all about?”
Andy shrugged.
“You know I haven’t got time for melodrama, so either spit it out or sort it out.” Jordan hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but before he could qualify his statement, his nephew’s mouth tightened in a stubborn line.
He stomped away, calling for Dillon. “C’mon, brat, let’s get out of here.”
What little sympathy Jordan had to spare evaporated. “And don’t take it out on Dillon. You know he’s been dying to hang out with
you.”
“Fine!” Andy yelled. He and Dillon disappeared into the bush.
“Boy,” said Mike, “King’s got a way to go handling teenage boys.”
Though she’d been thinking the same thing, Kate gave Mike a noncommittal shrug. Tempting though it was to bad-mouth Jordan, it didn’t seem fair to dump on the guy doing all the cleaning up.
“And you were right on the button when you said King’s environmental interests are probably a clever manipulation of current concerns,” said Mike. He seemed to know her columns word for word. “And,” he continued, “I reckon those charitable donations are salving a bad conscience.”
Kate smiled politely and picked up her book. Certainly, after today’s smarminess she’d have to agree with Mike’s assessment that Jordan’s charm was calculated. As for his pretty boy looks…She glanced at him surreptitiously.
No, he couldn’t be accused of prettiness. Too rugged for that. He radiated raw power and good health. Looking back at her book, Kate tried to concentrate.
“‘His signature long hair is ridiculously affected,’” quoted Mike. “God, I loved that line.”
“Am I missing anything?” Jordan asked.
Kate blushed, hoping he didn’t think she’d encouraged Mike, and even Dillon’s dad looked embarrassed.
“How about I go find the boys,” the man suggested. “We should get going.” He disappeared into the bush, and, flustered, Kate returned to her reading.
Sitting opposite from Kate, a sun-warmed boulder at his back, Jordan took the opportunity to study her.
The sun came out from behind a cloud and struck fire into her red hair, which was tousled from the morning’s rigors. She was frowning slightly under his scrutiny, and her jaw was set, but the freckles across the bridge of her straight nose softened the effect.
Add the long lashes casting shadows on her pale skin and, God help him, she was almost cute. Fortunately, her sensual mouth saved her from that fate. Idly, Jordan tried to recall the exact color of her eyes.
“It’s rude to stare,” she said without looking up.
“What’s the book?” he asked.
Reluctantly, she showed him, glancing up in the process. Her eyes were the capricious brown of the river, flecked with green.
Jordan dropped his gaze to the cover. Predatory Porcines—When Wild Boars Attack.
His shout of laughter echoed across the water. “Kate, I’ve encountered dozens, possibly hundreds of wild pigs in the bush over the years. Every single one bolted at first sight of me.”
“They are rated as one of the more intelligent animals.” Her delivery was so straight it took Jordan a second to realize he’d been insulted. He flicked her an appreciative grin, which she ignored. But there was a half smile on her lips as she skimmed back through the pages. “And I don’t think you should get complacent. In chapter six, a pig hunter said he always scoffed at attack stories. Until it happened. His rifle misfired, there was no tree handy, so he had to stand his ground and fight off a three-hundred-pound boar with his gun butt.” She started reading aloud, “‘If you’re trapped, never turn your back and run because the animal will knock you to the ground.’”
Her eyes were very bright as she slammed the book shut. “And you’re as good as dead if the tusks hit your vital organs.”
“You’re not reading this stuff because you’re scared,” he said delightedly, “you’re reading it because you’re bloodthirsty. Hell, you’re all but licking your lips.”
She looked horrified. “Take that back!”
“You probably have a shelf full of animal-attack books.”
“Four or five doesn’t rate as a collection.” She started to laugh. “And it’s not because I’m bloodthirsty. I admire fortitude in adversity.”
Something Jordan suspected she’d needed in her adolescence. Over the past week, he’d done his own research. He wanted to know everything about the woman he was trying to impress.
Her mother had died of cancer when Kate was sixteen. A year later she’d left school to keep house for her father and younger siblings. By all reports, her dad was a colorful character, with an eye for the ladies and an indefatigable enthusiasm for get-rich-quick investments, which had kept the family poor.
He’d gone opal mining in Australia when Kate was twenty-one, leaving his two younger children in her care. Amazingly, he’d found an opal that revived the family’s fortunes and freed Kate to pursue a career.
But he’d never returned home. His children must visit him abroad, though the private investigator Jordan had hired could find no record of it. The PI had discovered that Kate had rejected two good job offers overseas—presumably to stay with her siblings, who’d only recently flown the nest.
Coming from a close family himself, Jordan imagined she was finding the adjustment hard. Imagined being the key word. She hid her feelings, a concept completely foreign to him.
“There’s an awful section on pig hunting,” she said in disgust. “Dogs are used to track and hold the boar, then the hunter slits its throat.” Her eyes held an unspoken question.
“No—” Jordan picked up the thermos beside him and poured tea into plastic cups “—I don’t hunt like that.”
“But you do hunt?”
“With a gun, yeah.” He handed a cup to Kate, who was trying not to look disapproving. “I don’t care about your religion, your politics or your criminal record,” he said sternly, “but if you’re a vegetarian, I’m leaving you here.” He loved how she bit her lip lest she encourage him by smiling.
“I eat meat if it’s organic,” she conceded, “and free-range poultry.”
“It’s always struck me as ironic that you conscience-ridden types will only eat the happiest animals.”
That won a chuckle. “I never thought of it like—” Tea splashed onto the ground as she bolted upright. “Wait a minute, did you bring a gun?”
“No, I figured the temptation to shoot me would be too much for you.” When she laughed, he felt as if he’d won a gold medal at the Olympics.
“You’re very pretty when you smile.” I cannot believe I said that.
Kate’s warmth vanished. “The others are coming back. Shall we go?” Standing, she walked toward the river.
It wasn’t yet midafternoon, but already the forest’s giant trees had caught the sun and were drawing it down behind them, their long shadows creeping across the water.
Shivering, Kate tossed the remains of her tea into the river like a protective charm. “This place is almost prehistoric.”
“The forest has been legally protected for over a hundred years. It’s a mile deep in some places.”
“The roads must be rough.”
Jordan picked up the day pack and returned Dillon’s wave. Mike and Andrew ignored him. “The only access is by river. At this time of the year, we’d be lucky to see a ranger.”
Kate looked across at the dense bush and frowned. “So if the boat sinks, we’d have to try to find a way out through that?”
“Absolutely not. We’d sit tight and wait for help.” He saw her alarm. “I have an emergency transmitter. It would only take five or six hours.”
“And there’s my cell phone,” she reminded him.
He decided to get it over with. “For the most part we’ll be out of range.”
“But I have work to do…calls to take…. Why was none of this in the briefing notes?”
The answer—that she wouldn’t have come—was so obvious Jordan didn’t reply.
“Wait a minute.” Her brow furrowed. “On the map you supplied, I’m sure the river had a road running alongside it.”
He bent to retie his boots. “You must have misread it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CLOSE TO TWO HOURS later, Kate wondered if the numbness would ever leave her butt. She dropped forward onto her knees, smothering a groan as her thighs cramped in protest. “Let’s find a campsite,” Jordan called. “Kate needs rest.”
He was answered by a chorus of pro
tests.
“I’m fine,” she called, then said in a low, furious voice to Jordan, “I can work out what I need for myself, thank you. Quit…pandering to me. I don’t want special treatment.”
“Have you or have you not got a cramp?”
But she’d had enough of his attention today. “Let’s change places.” If she sat behind him, he couldn’t track her discomfort.
“The heavier person sits at the back. They also steer. If you’re keen to learn, I’ll team you up with Dillon when there’s no prospect of rapids.”
“Rapids!” Kate forgot her aches and pains. “How many does this river have?”
“Over two hundred, but the water level’s so high with all the rain upstream they’ve flattened out.” Jordan sounded disappointed. Kate offered up a prayer of thanks. “But that could change at any time,” he added, “and then we’d have some fun.”
She decided she’d had about all the fun she could take for one day. Things kept going from bad to worse. “Okay, you win. Let’s park this thing and make camp.”
“You’re a minute too late—look around.”
The gentle gradients had become buttresses defending the land. The gorge closed in, reducing the sky to a strip of fast-fading blue. In the gathering gloom, Jordan’s teeth were very white. “Beautiful, isn’t it.” And he wasn’t joking.
By the time the three craft reached a suitable egress point, Kate was grateful for the deep twilight hiding her exhaustion.
The canoe hit the bank with a bump, and this time her body left her no choice but to accept Jordan’s help. She noticed Mike was also moving stiffly, though he made no complaint, joining the others in unloading the gear. Picking up a bundle, she stumbled up the hill in their wake.
At the top, Jordan dropped the tent he was carrying and looked about him with satisfaction. “Home, sweet home.”
Appalled, Kate glanced around the small clearing, which was sparsely covered with damp, rangy grass. Beyond, a dark line of trees huddled like conspirators.
“Sit down, Kate, while we unpack.” Jordan’s voice sounded kind, but she was too tired to differentiate kindness from sycophancy.
