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  At that, Griffin looked at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You give back,” Brody said quietly. “You put yourself out there. You always do, Grif, and it’s awe-inspiring, if you want the truth.”

  “Look, all I’m doing is avoiding you calling in the troops.”

  “You’re that afraid of Mom? Come on, after all you’ve faced?”

  Griffin stared at him for a long moment, and Lyndie’s heart cracked yet again at all that was going on behind those amazing eyes. “I didn’t want to be here,” he finally said.

  “I know.”

  “And you forced it.”

  “I know.”

  Griffin sighed, then let out a tight laugh. “You do realize I’m going to be your supervisor out there, right?”

  “Yeah. But you’ll go easy on me.”

  “Sure I will.”

  Brody blinked. “You’ll have me handing out drinking water, making sure everyone has snacks to eat, or something like that, right?”

  “Something like that. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. I won’t worry about a thing.”

  Lyndie concentrated on flying, and evening out the tightness in her throat. Soon enough, she took them into their final descent through the dark and smoky atmosphere, the flying as difficult as last time with the limited visibility. But she was prepared for that, and it was nothing she couldn’t handle, marveling instead at the depth of love between the two men, despite all they’d been through.

  Would she have had a brother or sister if her parents had lived? Would she have done anything, anything, if her sibling needed her, including putting her life on hold to make sure he or she got back on with hers?

  As she had no blood connections left, the wondering seemed vain and silly, and certainly irrelevant, and she put it out of her mind.

  But she couldn’t put what she’d learned about Griffin out of her mind as easily, and found herself in the position of wanting to soothe him, heal him. Touch him. She wanted to pull him close and never let him go.

  As terrifyingly complicated, and as terrifyingly simple, as that.

  17

  They got to San Puebla late. Once at the inn, Griffin went to bed, leaving Brody with an entire evening in front of him and nothing to do.

  His favorite kind of evening. He’d been through Copper Canyon only once before, on the fly-fishing trip when he’d heard of San Puebla and their fire, but he’d not gotten this close to the village itself.

  He already knew he loved Mexico. The weather was always good and the fishing even better. Plus the people here lived on their schedule, meaning things got done in their own good time—his favorite part about the place.

  At the moment, his stomach was full from Rosa’s cooking, and he stood right outside the small inn where they would sleep tonight, staring down at a running creek so full of fish swimming by the pale, smoke-filled moonlight he could have reached out and grabbed one.

  Now here was a place where a man could take a decent breather, a place where he could forget any stresses and just kick back. Life was for nothing if not kicking back.

  Unfortunately with every breath, he inhaled thick smoke, but Griffin would fix that, he was confident.

  “Maldita sea.”

  Knowing a little bit of Spanish, Brody lifted his brow at the oath let out in a musical female voice. Turning, he could barely make out the outline of someone sitting against a tree, their feet in the water. Taking a step closer, he saw it was Nina, Tom’s beautiful daughter. He’d gotten a nice eyeful of her at dinner, and had enjoyed her wild spirit.

  Long hair tumbling down the middle of her back, she wore the same bright red sundress she’d worn at the table, and he spent a moment to marvel that she’d packed her curves into such a snug fit. Not that he’d been complaining. Lord, no. He liked nothing better than to look at a gorgeous woman over a mouth-watering dinner.

  At the moment, she was concentrating down at the pages of an opened book, her lips moving as she read, and also as she swore, quite impressively.

  “Now, darlin’, if that book is annoying you,” he said, “just toss it aside.”

  Her head jerked up. Her lips stopped moving.

  He leaned back against a tree to enjoy the sight of her. “Life’s too short to spend it reading a story you don’t like.”

  Slowly, she set down the book and laid her almond-shaped dark, dark eyes on him. “What are you doing out here?”

  Pushing away from the tree, he came closer and looked into the water rushing over rocks and sand. “Love that sound,” he murmured. “Don’t you?”

  “I…” She let go of her aggression and let out a low laugh. “I don’t even hear it anymore.”

  “Well, that’s just a sorry shame, if you ask me. What were you reading?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing always make you swear?”

  She sighed. “Princess Diaries.”

  “Princess Diaries.”

  “It’s the original American version. I’m…” She gave him a long don’t-you-dare-laugh look. “Teaching myself to read English.”

  He stared at her. “But…that’s amazing. You speak it so fluently I just assumed you could read it as well.”

  Her lush bottom lip pushed out just a little. “No. Not so good. I learned to speak it by ear, not formally.” She eyed him from beneath lowered lashes. “You read English?”

  Of course he did, not that he gave much thought to it. “Yes”

  Nina stretched out a little, arching back, thrusting up her pretty breasts in the moonlight before giving him another sidelong look to make sure he was watching.

  He most definitely was.

  She patted the spot next to her.

  And because he was a male, and apparently a very weak one at that, he sat.

  “If I read out loud,” she purred, “you could tell me all the words I do not know.”

  “I could,” he agreed, smiling when she made sure her thigh, hip, and breast were snug to his side. She settled the open book half on her lap and half on his. Serious now, she bent her dark head over the pages and flipped her flashlight back on.

  “Why Princess Diaries?”

  “Lyndie brought it for me. She likes to call me a princess because…” With a low, sexy laugh, she shifted a little, closer, snugger to his body, which was beginning to enjoy the attention—a lot. “Because let’s face it, I am a princess. No use denying the truth, no?”

  Brody laughed a little huskily, enjoying having such a beautiful, interesting woman come on to him. “No use.”

  “Are you like your brother, Brody Moore?”

  “What do you mean?”

  With one finger, she lightly touched his heart. “Do you give and give, until there’s nothing left?” Her smile was sad when he looked at her in surprise. “I can feel people,” she said. “And in your brother, I feel an emptiness.”

  “That’s not from helping others. That’s from loss. Big loss.”

  She nodded. “I’ve lost, too. But life is too short to dwell on it. Life is too short to do anything but what you want.” She ran her fingers up his throat, around the back of his neck, sinking them into his hair and tugging, just a little, so they were that much closer.

  Only a breath away, he looked down at her mouth. “My brother would give his last breath to anyone who needed it,” he said softly. “I’m…far more selfish than that.”

  He thought she’d back away at his brutal honesty. Instead she brought her other hand up, cupped his jaw. “Then you’re like me. You do what it takes, whatever it takes, to do as you please.”

  “Yes—”

  Which was the last word he got out before she closed her mouth over his.

  * * *

  Griffin slept like the dead and woke with a start, already aware of one most unusual fact: He hadn’t dreamed.

  He sat straight up, scrubbing his hands over his face as the covers fell away from him, racking his brain for remnants of