her panicked expression. “Jesus, woman. Give me your hand.” When she didn’t comply, he captured her fingers with a curse. “Grab this and …”
“I don’t need instruction.” She yanked her hand from his grasp and swiped at her moist brow. “I’ve done this before.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She ignored his sarcasm and put her back into it.
His brow creased with discomfort. “Want me to slow down?”
“Why, are you tired?” Somehow she managed the sarcastic reply in an even tone. Why was she so winded? Obsessed with maintaining a svelte figure, she worked out with a personal trainer four times a week. In addition, Tae Kwon Do kept her conditioned and limber. Then again her lack of energy could be due to lack of food, and although she was by no means a novice where
cardio exercise
was concerned, she was used to a more controlled environment.
“Almost there,” Joe said.
They crested at the same time.
He let out a grunt of satisfaction.
She collapsed, her body vibrating from head to toe. “Not for anything, Bogart, but where’s that big payoff you promised me?”
“Open your eyes.”
She’d rather sleep for an hour, but her screaming thigh muscles demanded satisfaction. Reluctantly, she forced open her lids and was rewarded with a breathtaking view.
Joe started to comment. She cut him off. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
“I was just going to say they don’t have sunsets like this in New Jersey.”
“No, they don’t. Now shut up.” She swiped off her sport’s cap, crossed her legs at the ankles, and settled back against the rock wall, enthralled. She’d been so focused on what he’d described as a moderate hike into the mountains that she’d failed to notice the deepening and shifting colors of the evening sky. Stark, bright blue had given way to a subtle blend of orange, red, and purple. The sheer vastness caused her lungs to bloom with wonder. No skyscrapers. No smog. Just spectacular summits and canyons, and miles of endless sky. All right, so maybe there was one perk to living in the godforsaken desert. Kick-ass sunsets.
“That’s Weavers Needle,” Joe said, pointing to one particularly remarkable rock spire. “Some say it’s the finger of God, pointing up to the sky. Others claim it’s a symbolic tombstone for all the treasure seekers who’ve died there. Ever heard of the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine?”
Sofia affected the accent of a salty prospector. “You mean there’s gold in them thar hills?”
Joe laughed. “Rumor has it.”
The uncharacteristic show of mirth tweaked the heat he’d incited when he’d given her the boost up and over the last boulder. She squeezed her thighs together, suppressing a sensual tingle when he raked his hands through his shaggy hair, securing the top half in a ponytail. The man’s profile was as chiseled and hypnotic as the legendary rock spire.
She focused back on the sunset. Why torture herself by drooling over a guy who’d made his disinterest blatantly clear? She’d made a fool of herself, coming on to him in the kitchen. But when he’d made that derogatory comment about her figure, she’d felt compelled to assert her feminine wiles. A quickie ego boost. She didn’t plan to follow through—no way was she breaking her no-sex-until-the-anniversary-of-her-break-up-with-Chaz resolution—but she’d certainly expected him to pounce on the invitation. Any other man would have. “I suppose you know the particulars of this Lost Dutchman legend?”
“I know the particulars of several legends. The Superstition Wilderness is steeped in myth.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?
“Why are you familiar with all of the legends?”
“A. Interesting stuff. B. Useful in my job.”
“The jeep tour thing?”
“Yeah, the jeep tour thing.”
She didn’t get it. Against her better judgment, Sofia tore her eyes from the heart-stopping vista and regarded Joe—also heart-stopping—with renewed interest.
They’d hiked
“I don’t need instruction.” She yanked her hand from his grasp and swiped at her moist brow. “I’ve done this before.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She ignored his sarcasm and put her back into it.
His brow creased with discomfort. “Want me to slow down?”
“Why, are you tired?” Somehow she managed the sarcastic reply in an even tone. Why was she so winded? Obsessed with maintaining a svelte figure, she worked out with a personal trainer four times a week. In addition, Tae Kwon Do kept her conditioned and limber. Then again her lack of energy could be due to lack of food, and although she was by no means a novice where
cardio exercise
was concerned, she was used to a more controlled environment.
“Almost there,” Joe said.
They crested at the same time.
He let out a grunt of satisfaction.
She collapsed, her body vibrating from head to toe. “Not for anything, Bogart, but where’s that big payoff you promised me?”
“Open your eyes.”
She’d rather sleep for an hour, but her screaming thigh muscles demanded satisfaction. Reluctantly, she forced open her lids and was rewarded with a breathtaking view.
Joe started to comment. She cut him off. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
“I was just going to say they don’t have sunsets like this in New Jersey.”
“No, they don’t. Now shut up.” She swiped off her sport’s cap, crossed her legs at the ankles, and settled back against the rock wall, enthralled. She’d been so focused on what he’d described as a moderate hike into the mountains that she’d failed to notice the deepening and shifting colors of the evening sky. Stark, bright blue had given way to a subtle blend of orange, red, and purple. The sheer vastness caused her lungs to bloom with wonder. No skyscrapers. No smog. Just spectacular summits and canyons, and miles of endless sky. All right, so maybe there was one perk to living in the godforsaken desert. Kick-ass sunsets.
“That’s Weavers Needle,” Joe said, pointing to one particularly remarkable rock spire. “Some say it’s the finger of God, pointing up to the sky. Others claim it’s a symbolic tombstone for all the treasure seekers who’ve died there. Ever heard of the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine?”
Sofia affected the accent of a salty prospector. “You mean there’s gold in them thar hills?”
Joe laughed. “Rumor has it.”
The uncharacteristic show of mirth tweaked the heat he’d incited when he’d given her the boost up and over the last boulder. She squeezed her thighs together, suppressing a sensual tingle when he raked his hands through his shaggy hair, securing the top half in a ponytail. The man’s profile was as chiseled and hypnotic as the legendary rock spire.
She focused back on the sunset. Why torture herself by drooling over a guy who’d made his disinterest blatantly clear? She’d made a fool of herself, coming on to him in the kitchen. But when he’d made that derogatory comment about her figure, she’d felt compelled to assert her feminine wiles. A quickie ego boost. She didn’t plan to follow through—no way was she breaking her no-sex-until-the-anniversary-of-her-break-up-with-Chaz resolution—but she’d certainly expected him to pounce on the invitation. Any other man would have. “I suppose you know the particulars of this Lost Dutchman legend?”
“I know the particulars of several legends. The Superstition Wilderness is steeped in myth.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?
“Why are you familiar with all of the legends?”
“A. Interesting stuff. B. Useful in my job.”
“The jeep tour thing?”
“Yeah, the jeep tour thing.”
She didn’t get it. Against her better judgment, Sofia tore her eyes from the heart-stopping vista and regarded Joe—also heart-stopping—with renewed interest.
They’d hiked
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