Just Try Me... Read online

  Because she’d just admitted it wasn’t a chill making her shiver, but him.

  Oh, boy. She’d wanted to claim her life again, and she was. Only she was beginning to discover she was getting much more than she’d bargained for.

  She clamped her mouth shut tight so she couldn’t inadvertently give anything else away. But it was too late, and he laughed softly. “So if you’re not cold…” His voice was lower now, husky…pleased. “Then it’s me making you shiver.”

  Nope.

  Not saying a word here, not a single one, not when her brain had so clearly disconnected from her mouth.

  His lips skimmed over her skin, in that delicate, oh-so-sensitive spot just beneath her lobe, and damn it, she shivered again.

  “I’m tired, that’s all,” she said quickly to negate it. “And sore from the dive and swim.”

  “Need me to kiss you all better?” he whispered in a voice hot enough to set the surrounding trees on fire. “Because it worked last time…”

  7

  JARED WAITED, his mouth a mere breath from Lily’s soft, silky skin. God, she was something, standing there so tough, so fiercely independent, so utterly arousing.

  And unexpectedly sweet.

  He knew her now, or was beginning to, and he wanted her more than ever.

  “Do I need you to kiss me all better? No.” Tilting her head, she met his gaze straight on, no wavering, no hiding, not for this woman. “Do I want you to? Yes. Because want is entirely different from need.”

  Turning her to fully face him, he smiled. “I’ll take the want for now.” He would earn the need, for later.

  Never before had he made time to be in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing but walking and enjoying the sights for four days. And he sure as hell hadn’t made time to have a wet, sexy-eyed woman stare up at him, flirt with him.

  Him.

  The sheer pleasure of that had a grin splitting his face. Before he’d gotten sick, he’d thought his life complete. He’d have sworn to it. But now that he was no longer consumed by either work or pain, he knew how wrong he’d been.

  “It’s not going to happen,” she warned. “Not here. Not now.” Having said so, she backed up a step, and came directly up against a tree.

  Ah, wasn’t that perfect. Shamelessly using the situation to his advantage, he shifted forward, gently pressing her to the trunk. Knowing he was now blocking her from the others, he set his hands on either side of her head and leaned in.

  She slapped a hand to his chest. “Did you miss the not-here, not-now part?” she asked, cool as rain.

  No, he hadn’t missed a thing when it came to her, but fact was, her eyes had softened, gone all sleepy-lidded and dreamy, and her mouth—God, her mouth had opened slightly, her tongue touching one corner as she stared at his lips. Body language was definitely conflicting with her words, and he figured body language stood for more.

  Or so he hoped.

  He shifted forward another inch, and then it was that heart-stopping beat right before the kiss, the beat where they both knew it was going to happen…His eyes wanted to drift shut so that he could sink into the feel of her, the scent of her, but she kept hers open, even as he closed the distance and touched his lips to hers. He’d never kissed with his eyes open before, and it was oddly, shockingly intimate.

  Then, still watching him from those whiskey eyes, she slowly sank her teeth into his bottom lip, and held on. Not deep enough to really hurt, but not exactly gentle either.

  And he went instantly hard. “Uh—”

  Her teeth tightened, and when he winced, her tongue darted out and stroked his lip before she pulled back and looked at him with a cocked brow.

  “Okay, so you meant it,” he said on a laugh. He’d never wanted to laugh while so aroused before. “Not here, not now.”

  She smiled. “I just love teaching new things.” With that, she tightened the towel—his towel—around her shoulders and brushed past him to check on the others.

  Standing still, he watched her go, watched as she jumped right back into being in charge as if she hadn’t just thoroughly rocked his world, so much so that he was going to have to stand here for a few moments before anyone got a good look at him.

  One thing about no longer being consumed by work, he had the time to absorb things. Rock was showing Rose how to raise the screen on her tent’s window, which faced…surprise surprise…Rock’s tent.

  Michelle had pulled something out of her backpack, and from here it looked like a large chocolate bar. Jack shook his head, but when Michelle broke off a piece and handed it to him, he looked at her, smiled. She smiled back as he popped it into his mouth and held out his hand for another.

  Lily hunkered in front of the fire, poking at it with a stick. In less than ten seconds she had that fire leaping back to life.

  And watching all this, it occurred to Jared—as he stood there waiting for the blood to circulate back into vital areas of his body, say his brain—that everyone here was consumed by something. Work, food, love…

  Not him. Nope, for the first time in his life, he was no longer consumed by anything, and it felt odd. Like the-loss-of a-limb odd. He needed something new to get excited about, something other than work or family, something that was healthy, and soul-rewarding.

  Lily rose and bent over the backpacks, pulling out supplies and food for dinner. Her still-wet cargo shorts clung to her features, her best feature right in bull’s-eye view as she rifled through the packs.

  And he knew. He’d found his something new—he’d found her: his enigmatic, fearless, gorgeous, sexy guide. Yeah, that so worked for him.

  He only hoped it worked for her.

  LILY SERVED trout over linguini for dinner, and considered the night a success when she had everyone around the campfire singing silly songs, toasting marshmallows and laughing.

  Well, almost everybody. Michelle wasn’t singing, she was sitting in that bright yellow rainjacket, barefoot, staring morosely at her feet. As Lily watched, Jack came close with a fistful of Band-Aids, and kneeled at her side.

  Michelle pulled her feet in and shook her head.

  She didn’t want help, or at least not his help.

  Jack patiently reached for one of her feet and inexorably pulled it toward him, turning it this way and that, inspecting it. Then he began opening Band-Aids and fixing her up.

  Michelle tried to hold onto her frown, and managed for a good long time, but somewhere between her right and her left foot, the frown faded, and she sighed her husband’s name.

  “Shh,” Jack said.

  And just like that, the frown was back. “Why do you always shush me?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do, you always do. I embarrass you.”

  Jack looked around, caught Lily looking at them, and hunched his shoulders. “When you pick a fight in public, you do.”

  “What do you care what anyone else thinks? I don’t want you to care what anyone else thinks.”

  “And I, for once, would like to be able to have a discussion without yelling.”

  “Who’s yelling?”

  “You.”

  “I’m talking loud, I’m passionate. Excuse me.”

  Jack sighed and shook his head when Michelle snatched the bandages and hobbled toward their tent.

  Alone.

  Lily watched Jack walk off into the woods as a result, and it was her turn to sigh. Making sure that everyone was having a good time wasn’t always the hard part, sometimes the people were the hard part.

  And this time, unlike on any other expedition she’d ever led, she had a distraction—she was attracted to one of her group.

  And not just an oh-gee-he’s-cute attraction, or an I-wanna-jump-his-bones attraction.

  But something much, much deeper.

  Luckily she’d come to her senses.

  Not before he’d kissed you…

  Shaking her head over that, she decided it was time for dishes. She took two pots and walked to one of the creeks