Warm & Willing

“Why you brought me here,” she said, tilting her head.

Sam brushed another kiss across her lips, satisfied that the first step in his seduction had gone well. “I brought you here for dinner. I just skipped ahead to dessert.”

She bent down and picked up her flashlight, then shined it in his eyes. “And what about the main course? Are you going to cook for me?”

He turned the flashlight on her face. “Nope. I thought you could cook for me,” Sam said.

He waited for her to protest but she just shook her head. “I sense this is a test. If I don’t do well, then you’re not going to take me to meet Sam Morgan.”

Maybe now was the time to come clean, Sam thought. He’d kissed her, she’d enjoyed it and she’d be more amenable to his apology. But then, once she had a few glasses of wine, she’d be much more understanding. “If I have to haul your pretty little ass up the mountain to meet Sam Morgan, I want to know you can carry some of the load.”

“I can haul my own ass, thank you very much. So are you going to take me?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But maybe it would be a good idea for you to walk a few miles in Sam Morgan’s boots.”

“As long as those boots have a fashionable heel and don’t make my calves look fat, I’ll give it a try.”

Sam chuckled softly then took her hand and walked her back to the campsite. As they built a fire, he considered kissing her again…then tugging her sweater over her head…then sliding her skirt up over her hips. He stopped at an idle contemplation of her underwear. Bikini or thong?

“You won’t regret this,” Sarah said. “Not that you’ve decided to take me. But if you do, you won’t regret it.”

Sam smiled. Hell, how could he possibly regret keeping Sarah Cantrell within arm’s reach for a few days longer? Though he knew it was mostly about desire, there was something inside him that wanted to show her his view of the world.

Maybe then, she’d understand why he’d lied to protect his privacy. And why he’d always choose the solitude of his life on the mountain over fame and fortune.

2

SARAH POKED at the embers of their campfire with a stick, staring into the glowing coals. They’d finished dinner an hour ago and were sipping another glass of wine after a dessert of Snickers candy bars.

She glanced over her shoulder at Charlie. He sat on the rough log bench, his back braced against the edge of the picnic table, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She turned back to the fire. Why hadn’t he tried to kiss her again?

“That was a great meal,” he said as she sat down next to him. He picked up the tin cup that held his wine and raised it to her. “My compliments to the chef. I didn’t think you’d know your way around a campfire.”

“Girl Scout camp, every summer from the age of seven to fifteen. I know how to build a fire and paddle a canoe and sing ‘Kumbayah.’ Did you expect me to run screaming from the woods at the prospect of cooking over a campfire?”

“I’m not sure what I expected from you,” he said, his voice soft and low, his gaze drifting down to her mouth. His arm rested on the table behind her and he began to play with her hair. “I think you might be full of all sorts of surprises.”

All this flirting was fun, Sarah mused, and the kissing was even better. But he still hadn’t answered her question. “I need you to take me to Sam Morgan,” she said, her tone direct. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

A moment later, she realized how her words sounded. Yes, she was willing to live without showers and cell phones, she was willing to trudge up a muddy mountainside with a pack strapped to her back and to cook over a campfire. But if he thought she might be willing to trade sexual favors, then he was sadly mis—

Oh, hell. Who was she trying to fool? Right now, she’d jump at the flimsiest excuse to get naked with Charlie Wilbury. Every time she looked at him, she caught herself imagining what it would be like to discover the body beneath the flannel and denim, to see what a man with all that smoldering sex appeal was like in bed.

“Why is it so important to you?” he asked, his gaze shifting to her mouth.

“It just is. I really want to produce this series. And I usually get what I want.”

A long silence grew between them. Maybe she hadn’t played this right, Sarah thought. But she didn’t want him to string her along. If he wasn’t going to take her to Sam, then she’d have to find another way.

“What is it you do back in the big city?” Charlie asked, picking up her hand and toying with her fingers.

“I don’t live in a big city. In fact, I live in a small town. Belfort, South Carolina. It’s not far from the coast between Charleston and Savannah.”

“Answer my question,” he said.

“I’m an independent television producer,” Sarah explained. “My first project was a—”

“No, no,” Charlie interrupted. “I don’t want to know about your job. I want to know about you. What do you do? On a typical Saturday night.”

“I’d probably be out. Dinner and maybe a movie. Sometimes a concert. A few weekends ago, I went to an art gallery opening.” She thought back over the dates she’d had in the last year, noisy parties and crowded theaters. She couldn’t remember enjoying a single occasion as much as she’d enjoyed this dinner. Or remember being with a man as attractive as Charlie.

“You must have your pick of men,” he said.

“And what do you do on a typical Saturday night?” Sarah said, deftly changing the subject.

“Same thing,” he said. “Gallery openings are big in Sutter Gap. Just last week Dub Watley got a new Elvis on velvet and we all stood around at the Lucky Penny and admired it. It’s a masterpiece, I tell you.”

Sarah laughed. “You’re a very charming man, Charlie Wilbury.”

“And you’re a very beautiful woman, Sarah Cantrell,” he replied.

Sarah knew if she just leaned forward slightly he’d kiss her again. It was there, in the soft curl of his smile and the sleepy look in his eyes. She ached to be swept off her feet by a kiss, to be so overwhelmed by a man’s touch she lost all sense of time and place. And since she’d met Charlie, she was certain he was the kind of man who could make her wildest fantasies come true.

But bending Charlie to her will had nothing at all to do with sex, she reminded herself. Though she might be tempted to jump into bed with the first sexy wilderness guide to come along the trail, she had to keep her eye on the real prize—Sam Morgan.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “I should really get back.”

He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair from her face. The simple contact had a devastating effect, instantly melting her very last thought of Sam Morgan.

“Sarah, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Her breath caught and she groaned inwardly. She’d heard those words, that tone of voice, from several men she’d dated. It never signaled good news. “You’re married?” she said.

“No!” Charlie replied, as if insulted.

“Then you’re getting married. Or you have a steady girlfriend. Or you just got out of a relationship.”

He shook his head. “No. No girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she murmured, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Well, that’s good to know. So what did you want to tell me?”

Charlie stood, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “It’ll wait.” He held out his hand to help her to her feet. “I’ll just grab our things and we’ll be off.”

Sarah was grateful he couldn’t see her embarrassment in the dark. She watched him by the light of the fire as he packed the remains of their meal into the grocery bag. She’d obviously said or done something that had cooled his desire for her. She hadn’t meant to imply that he was a liar or a cheat. It’s just that her experiences with men had taught her a few things. But then Charlie wasn’t like any other man she’d known.

Maybe his sudden aloofness was for the best. She needed Charlie’s help, not his body. And falling into bed with him simply to satisfy a momentary craving would only make things more complicated between them.

As they drove back to Sutter Gap, Sarah thought about the days ahead. If she was forced to spend more time with Charlie, then she’d have to find a way to control her attraction to him. The problem was she had no idea how to make that happen.