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The look on Libby’s face was priceless. “Got it,” she mumbled.
“Am I being too blunt?” he asked.
She gnawed her lip. “No. I suppose I hadn’t thought through all the ramifications.”
“That’s what this trip is about.”
He slid one of two backpacks off his shoulder. “I need to make sure the straps are adjusted correctly for you.” Without asking, he stepped behind her and helped settled the pack into position. With a few quick tugs, he was satisfied. Finally, he moved in front of her and fiddled with the strap at her chest.
Libby made some kind of squawk or gasp. It was only then that he realized his fingers were practically caressing her breasts. He stepped back quickly. “I’m sure you can manage the waistband,” he muttered.
“Uh-huh.” She kept her head down while she dealt with the plastic locking mechanism. After a moment, she stared off into the woods. “I’m good.”
“Then follow me.”
* * *
Libby had taken yoga classes from the time she was fourteen, although during the past year, she’d had to keep up the discipline on her own. She was limber and more than moderately fit. But Patrick’s punishing pace had her gasping for breath by the third mile.
His legs were longer than hers. He knew the rhythm of walking over rough terrain. And she was pretty sure he had loaded her pack with concrete blocks. But if Charlise could do this, so could she.
Fortunately, the boots Maeve had found for Libby were extremely comfortable and already broken in. Given Patrick’s warning, Libby paid close attention to her feet. So far, no sign of problems.
It helped that the view from behind was entertaining. Patrick’s tight butt and long legs ate up the miles. She had long since given up estimating how far they had come or what time it was. Since her phone was turned off to save the battery, she was dependent upon Patrick’s knowledge of the forest to get them where they needed to go.
At one point when her legs ached and her lungs burned, she shouted out a request. “Water, please.” That was more acceptable to her pride than admitting she couldn’t keep up.
Patrick had a fancy water-thingy that rested inside his pack and allowed him to suck from a thin hose that protruded. Not the kind of item a person borrows. So he had tucked plastic pouches of water for Libby in the side pockets of her pack. She opened one and took a long, satisfying gulp. It took everything she had not to ask how much farther it was to their destination.
The two of them were completely alone...miles away from the nearest human. The wind soughed through the trees. Birds tweeted. The peace and solitude were beautifully soothing. But a chasm existed between Patrick and her. At the moment, she had no desire to breach it.
As forecasted, the warming trend had arrived with a vengeance. Temperatures must already be in the upper sixties, because Libby’s skin was damp with perspiration.
Patrick hadn’t said a word during their stop. He merely stood in silence, his attention focused on the scenery. The trail had ascended a small ridgeline, and through a break in the trees, they could see the town of Silver Glen in the distance.
“I’m good,” she said, stashing the water container. “Lead on.”
Her body hurt and her lungs hurt, but eventually, she fell into a rhythm that was almost natural. One foot in front of the other. Zen-like state of being. Embrace the now.
It almost worked.
When they stopped for lunch, she could have sworn it was at least seven in the evening. But the sun was still high in the sky. Patrick had a more sophisticated standard for trail food than she had anticipated. Perhaps a certain level of cuisine was de rigueur for his Fortune 500 clients. Instead of the peanut butter and jelly she had expected, they enjoyed baked-ham sandwiches on homemade bread.
When the meal was done and Patrick shoved their minimal trash into his pack, she finally asked a question. “What do you do if you have someone who can’t handle the hiking?”
He zipped his pack and shouldered it. “Companies apply to come to Silver Reflections. We have a long waiting list. Most of the elite businesses institute some kind of wellness programs beforehand. They’ll include weight loss, stress management, regular exercise...that kind of thing. So by the time they come to North Carolina, most of the participants are mentally and physically prepared for the adventure rather than dreading it.”
“I see.” But she didn’t really. Patrick was already walking, so she stumbled after him. “But what about people that aren’t prepared? Do they make them come anyway?”
Patrick didn’t turn around, but his voice carried. “A lot of top corporations are beginning to realize the importance of physical well-being for their employees as a means to increase the bottom line. If an executive has a physical limitation, then of course he or she isn’t forced to come. But if an otherwise physically capable person chooses not to attend to his or her health and fitness, then it might be a sign that a top-shelf promotion isn’t in the cards.”
With that, the conversation ended. Patrick was walking as quickly as ever, making it look easy. Maybe Libby had slipped into the numb stage, or maybe she was actually getting used to this, but her aches and pains had receded. Perhaps this was the “runner’s high” people talked about. Endorphins at work, masking the physical discomfort.
At long last, Patrick stopped and took off his pack to stretch. Libby followed suit, looking around curiously. It was obvious they had reached their destination. Patrick stood on the edge of a large clearing. The area was mostly flat. About thirty feet away, a narrow creek slid and tumbled over rocks, the sound of the water as soothing as the prospect of wetting tired feet in the chilly brook.
Patrick shot her a look, clearly assessing her physical state. “This is base camp.”
“There’s not much to it,” she blurted out.
“Were you expecting a five-star hotel?”
His sarcasm on top of everything else made her angry, but she didn’t want him to get the best of her. So she kept her mouth shut. If he wanted her to talk, he was going to have to initiate the conversation.
Somehow, it seemed almost obscene to be at odds with another human in the midst of such surroundings. Though it would be several more weeks until the new green of spring began to make its way through the sun-kissed glades, even now the forest was beautiful.
She dropped her pack and managed not to whimper. Though it galled her to admit it, maybe Patrick was right. Maybe this job was not for her. It was one thing to come out here alone with him. But in the midst of an “official” expedition, Libby would be expected to pull her weight. Her new boss wouldn’t be free to coach her if she got in over her head.
He knelt and began pulling things from his pack. “The first thing Charlise usually does is put up our tents. I’ll be teaching the group how to do theirs.”
“Okay.” How hard could it be? The one-man tents were small.
“First you’ll want the ground cover. It’s the thing that’s silver on one side and red on the other. Silver side up to preserve body heat.”
Libby was a fast learner. And she was determined to acquit herself well. “Got it.”
Patrick pointed. “Leader tents go over there.” He stood, hands on hips, while she struggled to spread the ground tarps and smooth them out.
Next came the actual tents. Claustrophobically small and vulnerably thin, they were actually not that difficult to set up. Lightweight poles snapped together in pieces and threaded through a nylon sleeve from one corner of the tent to the opposite side. Repeat once, and it was done. The only thing left was to secure the four corners to the ground with plastic stakes.
All in all, not a bad effort for her first time. Even Patrick seemed reluctantly impressed. He handed her a rolled-up bundle that was about eighteen inches wide. “Look for a valve on one corner. It’s not difficult to blow up. And it won’t look like much when you’re done. But having this pad underneath your upper body and hips makes for a much more comfortable night.”
He was right. Even when she inflated the thin mattress, it didn’t seem like much of a cushion. But she wasn’t about to say so.
To give Patrick his due, he didn’t go out of his way to make her feel nervous or clumsy. Still, having someone watch while she learned new skills was stressful.
At last, both tents were up, pads and sleeping bags inside. The full realization that she and Patrick were going to spend the night together hit her hard. No television. No computers. Nothing at all for a distraction. He was gorgeous and unavailable. She was lonely and susceptible.
Nevertheless, the job was what she needed. Not the man. She couldn’t let him see that she was seriously attracted to him. Cool and casual was the plan.
She stood and arched her back. “What next?”
Four (#ulink_1d7adda3-2687-5d7b-bb0a-7e247da252be)
Patrick hadn’t expected much from a young, pampered, New York socialite. But perhaps he was going to have to eat his words. During the morning, he had set an intentionally punishing pace as they made their way through the woods. Libby stayed on his heels and never once complained.
Was it the past year that had made her resilient, or was she naturally spunky and stubborn? That would remain to be seen.
He glanced at his watch. Even with this current spring-like spell, it was still February, which meant far less daylight than in two months when he traditionally scheduled his first team-building treks. Kneeling, he pulled a small camp stove from his pack. “I’ll show you how to use this,” he said. “The chef at the retreat center has a couple of part-time assistants who prepare our camping meals the day before.”
“I assumed the execs would have to cook for themselves. Isn’t that part of the outdoor experience?”
“In theory, yes. But so far, we’ve only done short trips...two days, one night. So our time frame is limited. Since we want them to do a lot of other activities, we preprepare the food and all they have to do is warm it up. We don’t spend too much time on meals.”
Once Libby had mastered the stove, she glanced up at him. “Surely you don’t expect the entire group to use something this small.”
“No. I have a group of local guys who come along to carry the food, extra stoves and extra water.”
He stared at her, disconcerted by feelings that caught him unawares. He was enjoying himself. Libby was a very soothing person to be around. When she stood up, he walked away, ostensibly picking up some fallen limbs that had littered the campsite.
Grappling with an unexpected attraction, he cursed inwardly. With Charlise, he never felt like he was interacting with a woman. He treated her the same way he did his brothers. Charlise was almost part of his family. While he was delighted that she and her husband were so happy about the upcoming birth, he would be lying if he didn’t admit he was feeling a little bit sorry for himself. Silver Reflections had been going so well. He had honed these outdoor events down to the finest detail. Then Charlise had to go and get pregnant. And his mother had saddled him with Libby. A remarkably appealing woman who’d already managed to get under his skin.
What was he going to do about it? Nothing. It would be a really bad idea to get involved personally with his mother’s beloved Libby. Not only that, but with Charlise out of commission, he had no choice but to work twice as hard. And ignore his libido.
Surely he could be excused for being a little grumpy.
Libby called out to him. “What now?”
He turned around and caught her rolling her shoulders. She’d be sore tomorrow. Backpacking used a set of muscles most people didn’t employ on a daily basis.
“I’ll show you how we string our packs up in the trees,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He sighed, the look of befuddlement on her face the sign of an outdoor newbie. “Once we set up camp, we won’t be hauling our backpacks everywhere. We’ll use this as home base and range around the area.”
“Why can’t we leave the packs in our tents?”
“Bears,” he said simply.
Up until that point, Libby had done an admirable job keeping her cool, but now she paled. “What do you mean, bears?”
“Black bears have an incredible sense of smell. And they’re omnivorous. Anytime we’re away from camp—and at night when we’re sleeping—we’ll hang our packs from a high tree limb to discourage unwanted visitors. Don’t keep any food in your tent at all, not even a pack of crackers or scented lip balm or toothpaste.”
“I washed my hair with apple shampoo this morning.” Her expression was priceless.
“Not to worry. I should have told you. But the scent won’t be strong enough by the end of the day to make a difference.”
“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled as she glanced over her shoulder, perhaps expecting a bear to lumber into sight any moment.
Patrick unearthed a packet of nylon rope. “There will be plenty of tall men around to do this part, but it never hurts to gain a new life skill. Watch me, and then you can try.”
“If you say so.”
He found a rock that was maybe four inches around and tied it to the end of the rope. “Stand back,” he said. Fortunately for his male pride, his first shot sailed over the branch. He reached for the rock again and removed it. “Now all you have to do is attach one end to your pack, send it up, and tie it off.” When Libby seemed skeptical, he laughed, his good humor restored for the moment. “Never mind. I won’t make you practice this right now. We have better things to do.”
“Like what?”
He grabbed a couple of water pouches and a zippered nylon case, then hefted both packs toward the treetops, securing them. “I’m going to show you where I teach the groups how to rappel.”
Libby’s expression was dubious. “Does Charlise do the rappelling thing?”
It was the first time she had seemed at all reluctant to approach something new. “No. Not usually. So if you don’t want to try it, you can watch me. But I do want you to get a feel for the whole range of activities we offer. C’mon...it’s not far.”
As they passed the two tents, neatly in place for the upcoming night, he felt his pulse thud. He’d never thought of camping out as sexual or even sensual. When he spent time with a woman, it was in fine restaurants or at the theater. Perhaps later on soft sheets in her bedroom. But certainly not when both parties were sweaty—and without a luxurious bathroom at hand.
He stumbled. Damn it. Libby was messing with his head.
The large rock outcropping was barely half a mile away. He strode automatically, only slowing down when he realized that Libby was lagging behind. When she caught up, he moved on without speaking.
Though she had been cooperative and pleasant all day, his inadvertent insult from Friday hung between them like a cloud. He would have to address it sooner or later, whether she liked it or not.
When they arrived at their destination, he unzipped the bag and pulled out a mass of tightly woven mesh straps. “Sometimes, if we have women along, I might ask you to help them get into their gear. If a female seems extremely modest or uneasy, it can be difficult for me or one of the guys to help with the harness...you know...too much touching.”
Libby nodded. “I understand.”
She stared at him intently as he prepared the equipment. Something about her steady regard made the back of his neck tingle. “I’m going to go around the side of that ridge and come out on top,” he said. “That cliff is only about thirty feet high, but it looks really far off the ground when you’re standing up there, particularly if you’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I can imagine.”
He tossed her a thin ground cloth to sit on. “Feel free to relax while I get up there. And you don’t have to worry about ticks or other bugs. It’s still too early for a lot of creepy crawlies.”
* * *
Libby hadn’t been worrying about creepy crawlies, but she was now. Ick. Her legs itched already from the power of suggestion.
If her companion had been any man other than Patrick Kavanagh, she might have assumed he was showing off. He could have explained how the rappelling worked without a demonstration. Maybe he just liked doing it. It was a sure bet he didn’t have any interest in impressing her.
Without Libby to slow him down, he appeared at the top of the small cliff in no time at all. She shaded her eyes and watched as he secured himself to a nearby tree. He checked all of his connections and waved. Then, looking like an extremely handsome and nimble spiderish superhero, he stepped backward off the rock shelf and danced his way to the bottom.
His skill was striking.
Something about a man so physically powerful and at ease with his body was very appealing. For a moment, she thought about other, more primal things he might do exceedingly well...but no. She wouldn’t go there.
Once before when she was young and immature, she’d fallen under the spell of a magnetic, powerful man—with disastrous results. History would not be repeating itself. She was older now, old enough to be tempted. But sex and romance were off the table. Keeping this job had to be her focus.
The demonstration took some time. Once Patrick reached the bottom, he had to go back to the top and untie his ropes.
Finally, he reappeared, striding toward her. She handed him his water. He dropped down beside her, barely breathing heavily, and took long gulps. Already, the sun was sliding lower in the sky, and a chill began to linger in the shadows.
Libby pulled her knees to her chest and linked her arms around her legs. “That was pretty cool. Have you always been fond of the outdoors?”
Patrick wiped the back of his arm across his forehead. “Would you be surprised to know that I worked in advertising for several years in Chicago?”
She gaped at him. “Seriously?”
His smile was self-mocking. “Yes. I loved the competitive atmosphere—stealing big accounts, coming up with the next great ad campaign. Brainstorming with smart, focused, energetic colleagues. It was a great environment for a young man.”
She snorted. “You’re still young.”
