Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set (40 page)

Even if, as he was beginning to suspect, Chandra Hill was the most exciting female he'd met since stepping foot on Colorado soil.

Ignoring the obvious curve of her behind, he dropped the rest of their supplies. “Here, let me give you a hand with that.”

“You know how?” she asked skeptically.

“Mmm.”

“Don't tell me, you're an Eagle Scout in disguise,” she joked sarcastically, but took the sting off her words by offering him that sexy smile again.

“Nope. The military.”

“You were in the service?” she asked, turning all her attention his way. Her face, touched by the sunlight, seemed younger and more innocent than he'd first thought, and yet there was a trace of sadness in her eyes, a flickering shadow that darkened her gaze momentarily.

“My father was,” he clarified, wondering why he was giving her any information about himself. “Career military doctor.”

She rocked back on her heels and wiped her palms on her shorts. “And you decided to follow in his footsteps?”

“Something like that,” he admitted, though the subject, as far as he was concerned, was closed. He'd come on this trip with the firm intention of gaining some insight on Ms. Hill, not the other way around.

They finished setting up camp, and Chandra, swinging a rope over a tall tree branch, hoisted a nylon bag of food twenty feet into the air. “Bears,” she explained when she
caught his questioning gaze. “They're as hungry as Yogi and twice as clever. So let's not leave any ‘pic-i-nic baskets' around. Even this—” she hooked a thumb toward the tree “—might not be effective.”

“No one mentioned bears on this trip.”

“Don't worry, I'll protect you,” she said, and laughed. That husky sound continually surprised him. Checking her watch, she said, “Come on, let's go. We want to get back here before dark.”

He had no choice but to follow her back up the path, and though he tried to train his eyes on the steep curving trail, his gaze wandered continually to the movement of her tanned legs and the sway of her hips beneath khaki-colored shorts.

Her clothing, an aqua T-shirt and shorts, wasn't innately sexy, but there was something about her, some emotions simmering just beneath the surface of her calm smile, that hinted at a slumbering sexuality ready to awaken. His thoughts leapt ahead to a vivid picture of her lying naked on that sandy beach, hair wild and free, water from the river still clinging to her skin. Her arms were outstretched, her legs, beneath an apex of blond curls, demurely crossed, but her dark-tipped breasts pointing upward, beckoning—

“Ready?”

His heart slammed against his chest as he started from his fantasy and found her staring up at him. They had emerged from the forest, and the sunlight seemed harsh after the filtered shadows of the woods.

“Anytime you are,” Dallas replied, his voice lower than usual as he shook the inviting image of her bare body from his mind with difficulty.

“Good.” Crawling into the cab of her truck, Chandra added, “Hop in.” She fired the engine and threw the big rig into gear. Dallas had barely settled into his seat and
closed the door when she tromped on the accelerator and they were off to God-only-knew-where.

Dr. O'Rourke wasn't exactly as Chandra had expected him to be. He was quiet—too damned quiet. She never knew what he was thinking, and now, bumping over the lane to the start of Grizzly Loop, she wished she'd never agreed to be his guide. His brooding silence made her nervous, and the directness of his gaze made it impossible for her to relax. And that didn't even begin to touch his sexuality, which, now that she was alone with him in the wilderness, seemed more potent than ever.

She switched on the radio, hoping that music would dull the edge of tension that seemed to emanate from the man beside her. A Kris Kristofferson ballad drifted from the speakers.

“Where, exactly, are we going?” the doctor finally asked.

“To a point known as Fool's Bluff.”

“Appropriate,” he muttered, and slipped a pair of mirrored sunglasses onto the bridge of his hawkish nose.

She let that one slide. But as the gravel of the lane gave way to rocky ruts, she hazarded a glance at this man who was to be her companion for the next thirty-six hours. He was handsome, no doubt of that, and his profile, made more mysterious by the dark glasses, was potently virile and male. His features were hard, his hair wavy and willful, for the black strands appeared to lie as they wanted, refusing to be tamed by any civilized comb or brush.

He seemed to fill up the interior of her truck, the smell of him pure male and soap scents. His long legs were cramped, even in the roomy interior.

She knew that he was watching her from the corner of his eye, and she felt self-conscious. Never before had she needed to rack her brain for conversation; her clients had
always, through anxiety or their outgoing personalities, managed to keep up a steady stream of small talk.

But not Dr. O'Rourke. No way.

The noon sun was intense, and the sky offered no traces of clouds. Chandra drove along the winding road that followed the twisted course of the river. Through the passing trees, flashes of gray-green water sped by. “Okay, let's go over a few safety rules,” she said as she fished a pair of sunglasses from the glove box and slid them onto her nose. “First, as I told you before—I'm in charge. I'll let you guide the raft, but if we're getting into trouble, you've got to trust me to take over.”

O'Rourke snorted, but inclined his head slightly.

“Secondly, you wear your life vest and helmet at all times.”

“I read all the rules,” he said, rolling down his window and propping his elbow on the ledge. Cool mountain air, smelling of fresh water and dust, rushed through the rig's interior, catching in Chandra's hair and caressing the back of her neck.

She rattled off a few more pieces of information about raft safety, but Dallas was way ahead of her, so she fell silent, watching the road as the Suburban jarred and bumped up the hillside. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the pines and aspen that clustered between the road and the river. Nearby, the mountains rose like stony sentinels, sharp-peaked and silent.

The road began to lose its definition, becoming nothing more than a pair of tire tracks between which grass, weeds and wildflowers grew.

“This part of the river is known as Grizzly Loop,” Chandra said, glancing over at Dallas.

“So, there are really bears up here. I thought you hauled our provisions into the trees just to scare me.”

“Did I…scare you?”

His smile was arrogant and mocking. “I was terrified.”

“Right,” she said sarcastically. “As for grizzlies, you'll see about as many as you see rattlesnakes. The river and parts of it were named a long time ago. I suppose there were a lot of bears here once, and there could be rattlesnakes, but I've never seen either, nor has anyone I know. Disappointed?”

“Relieved.”

The radio, playing a mixture of soft pop and country, finally faded in a crackle of static, and the grass strip between the tire ruts grew wider. Long, sun-dried blades brushed the underbelly of the truck. Chandra fiddled with the dial, found no discernible signal and flipped off the radio. “I guess we'll have to settle for brilliant conversation.”

“Suits me.” He leaned against the passenger window and studied her more closely. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Baby Doe,” she said automatically. No reason to beat around the bush, and that way she could avoid discussing her life.

“What about him?”

“Has anyone tried to claim him?”

Dallas shook his head, and Chandra felt a release of anxiety, like the rush of water from a burgeoning dam. Ever since she'd found the small child, crying and red faced in her barn, a tiny idea had sprouted in her mind, an idea that had grown and formed until she could recognize it for what it was. She wanted the baby, and though she'd argued with herself a million times, she knew that she was on a path to requesting guardianship. It was time she became a parent. She needed the baby, and, oh, Lord, the baby needed the kind of loving mother she could well become.

They drove a few more miles until they reached Fool's
Bluff, which was situated some forty feet above the river. The rocky ledge provided a view of the curving Rattlesnake as it sliced through a canyon in the mountains. “That's where we'll be going,” Chandra said, parking the truck and climbing out to point south, toward the wayward path of wild, white water.

“It looks pretty tame from up here,” Dallas observed.

Chandra laughed. “Don't you know that looks can be deceiving?”

“I'm beginning to,” he said, and he sent her an assessing glance that caused her heart to trip-hammer for a second as their gazes touched then moved away. Quickly, she turned back to the truck, and balancing on the running board, began to unleash the raft.

Dallas worked on the other side of the Suburban, and soon they were packing the raft and a few supplies along the narrow trail leading through the undergrowth and pines surrounding the river. “You're sure this is safe?” he asked, a smile nudging the corner of his mouth.

“You're insured, aren't you?”

He snorted. “To the max. I'm a doctor, remember? Insurance is a way of life.”

“Then relax. You've got nothing to worry about,” Chandra mocked, her eyes seeming to dance.

But Dallas wasn't convinced. With the single-minded perception he'd built a reputation upon, he realized that the next hours, while he was alone with Chandra in the forested hills, might prove to be his fateful undoing.

L
IKE AN AWAKENING SERPENT
, the river bucked and reared, rolling in a vast torrent of icy water that slashed furiously through the terrain. Chandra propelled the raft through the rapids, concentrating on the current, guiding the craft away from rocks and fallen trees.

The raft hit a snag and spun.

Adrenaline surged through Chandra's blood as the raft tilted, taking on water.
Hold on,
she told herself. Freezing spray splashed in her face, and water drenched her shirt and shorts as she tried to concentrate on the idiosyncrasies of the river. The raft pitched and rolled as the Rattlesnake twisted back upon itself. “Hang on,” she yelled, putting her shoulders into the task of balancing the inflatable boat.

Blinking against the spray of water, she was aware of Dallas shifting the position of his oars, of his body moving with the flow of the current as easily as if he, too, were a river guide.

The raft hit a submerged rock and bounced upward, landing back on the water with a slap and a curl, spinning out of control for a heart-stopping second before Chandra found the channel again.

Dallas, his black hair wet and shining, his face red where the water had slapped him, paddled with the current, helping Chandra keep on course.

“You lied. You
were
a Boy Scout,” she screamed over the roar of wild water.

His laugh filtered back to her. “No. But I was taught to be prepared for anything.”

“By your father?”

He didn't answer, but threw his back into his oar, and the craft whipped past a slick boulder that protruded from the frigid depths.

They shot past the final series of ripples, and finally, as the Rattlesnake's strength gave out, their craft slowed in the shallows to drift lazily in the ebbing current.

Chandra let out her breath in relief. Though she was always eager to challenge the river, she was also relieved when the most difficult part of the journey was over.

“You do this every day?” Dallas asked, settling back against the stern of the raft to look at her.

“No, thank God! Sometimes I guide trail rides or supervise campouts or rock climbs. In the winter, I work on the ski patrol and give lessons.”

“The outdoorswoman who does it all.”

“Not everything,” she countered, shoving her wet hair from her face. “I don't hunt.”

“No?”

She narrowed her eyes against the lowering sun and paddled slowly, anticipating the next series of rapids. Though smaller than the last, they were still treacherous. “I'm afraid that if meat didn't come wrapped in plastic on little trays in the store, I'd become a vegetarian.”

He smiled at that, and his grin, honest in the outdoors, touched her.

“Show time,” she said as the river picked up speed again, and together they slid through the rapids, following the Rattlesnake's thrashing course until, half an hour later, they glided around a final bend to the beach beneath Fool's Bluff, where their camp was waiting.

“Home sweet home,” Chandra quipped, and Dallas couldn't help thinking she was right. The faded tents and
supplies stacked nearby, the bag of food swinging twenty feet in the air, the tall pines and rocky shore all did seem as much home to him as anyplace he'd ever lived.

Skimming her paddles through the water, Chandra guided the boat to the bank. Near the beach, she hopped into the icy water. Dallas, sucking in his breath, followed suit, and soon they'd pulled the raft onto the beach, leaving it upside down to drain.

“Now what?” Dallas asked.

“Well, you can change into some dry clothes, or you can leave those on, they'll dry soon enough. We'll get started on dinner. Then, once it's dark, we'll tell ghost stories around the campfire and scare ourselves out of our minds,” she deadpanned.

Dallas laughed, and Chandra couldn't help but grin. Beneath his hard facade, Dallas O'Rourke was a man with a sense of humor, and here in the mountains, he seemed less formidable, more carefree. What else was he hiding beneath his surgical mask and professional demeanor? she wondered before closing her mind to a subject that was strictly off-limits. He was the client, and she was the guide. Nothing more. And yet, as the time she shared with him passed, she found her thoughts drifting to him as she wondered what kind of a lover he would be. What kind of husband? What kind of father?