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“So have they shown up in your room unexpectedly?”
“Why this sudden interest in my personal life?” he asked, although he was pleased that she seemed focused on that. He would hate for the attraction to be one-sided.
“Ah, so that was a yes.”
He chuckled. “Yes, once or twice.”
“How was it?”
He thought back. “The first time was in a small village on an island in the South Pacific. I was all of eighteen and the woman was at least thirty. Her husband had died and she was about to remarry someone much older. I think I was her last fling.”
“And?”
“And what? I was a kid. I had no concept of quality, so I made it up in volume. She taught me they weren’t interchangeable.”
“I see. And the second time it happened?”
He drew in a deep breath. “I was on a lecture tour in Europe a couple of years ago. There was a particular young woman who developed a crush on me. I didn’t encourage her at all, in fact I barely knew who she was. One night I came in late and found her waiting for me in my bed.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“I explained that I was flattered, but not interested. When she wouldn’t leave, I got another room for the night, then in the morning, I changed hotels.”
Chloe burst out laughing. “The most trouble I’ve ever had with the opposite sex is when old man Withers, the seventy-year-old misogynist who takes care of the grounds of the house, calls me a ninny. He calls all women ninnies.”
“Are you going to put that in the article?” he asked. He hadn’t requested that any part of their conversation be off the record. Perhaps he should have. When he was around Chloe he thought of her as a woman first and someone he would like to get to know second. He rarely remembered she was a journalist.
“I’m not out to make you the bad guy,” she said. “I want to show a different side of you and connect that with your work. Neither my editor nor I is interested in a hatchet job.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I find it interesting you’re asking me this after the fact. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not concerned?”
“You’ve just explained that I shouldn’t be.”
They were still walking side by side. Their hands brushed. Without thinking, Arizona laced his fingers with hers. Chloe stumbled a step, but didn’t pull away.
“But how do you know you can trust me?” she asked.
Was it his imagination or was her voice a little breathless? He wanted to know that she was reacting to him the same way he reacted to her. He wanted to know that she felt it, whatever the it was, too.
“Gut instinct,” he said. “I’ve met a lot of people in my life and I’ve learned how to read them.”
Her hand was small but strong. He liked the feel of her next to him like this, walking together on the trail. He found himself eager to show her the site, to explain his world to her. He wanted her to enjoy their time together, to be impressed by him, to think he was nearly as exciting as his image.
“Is there anywhere on this planet you haven’t been?” she asked.
“If you’re talking continents, I haven’t been to Antarctica. Otherwise, I would guess I’ve hit most of the major points.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She gave him a quick, sideways glance. “You can be a little intimidating,” she admitted. “I’ve interviewed fairly powerful people in the past. Government officials, celebrities. You’re the first one who has made me feel like the country mouse come to town for a visit.”
He leaned close. “You don’t look anything like a country mouse. In fact, there’s nothing rodentlike about you at all.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Gently, reluctantly, he thought, although that could just be wishful thinking on his part, she pulled her hand away from his. “Back to business,” she told him. “I have a lot more questions.”
“Ask away.”
“About your travels. From what I’ve been reading, most of them were financed privately. You don’t work with a particular foundation or for a university.”
“That’s true. There’s a rather impressive family trust fund that has paid my expenses. I’ve had opportunities to work for charitable organizations, helping them raise funds. I do that frequently. When I do guest lecture series I tend to donate my fees to the local children’s hospital and women’s shelters. I’ve done specific tours for museums, and then they keep the proceeds.”
“You don’t keep any for yourself?”
“I don’t have to.” At her look of confusion, he shrugged. “My family has a lot of money. I don’t need more so why wouldn’t I give some of it away?” He replayed his last couple of comments in his mind and frowned. “I’m not some do-gooder,” he said. “I was taught it was my place to give back. But don’t make me out to be a saint. I’m very much a man with as many flaws as the next guy.”
“I see.”
Her words didn’t give anything away, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He almost didn’t want to know. Better to imagine she was thinking about being with him, touching him, holding him close. Because that was what he wanted her thinking. He wasn’t willing to explore the realization that it was much easier to deal with Chloe wanting him than her actually liking him.
* * *
THEY STOPPED AROUND one o’clock to take a break. Chloe let her backpack fall to the ground, then rotated her shoulders.
“Cassie warned me it was going to get heavier as we walked, but I didn’t believe her. I see now I was wrong.”
“Sore?” Arizona asked.
“I’ll survive.”
She watched him release his pack as if it weighed nothing. It had to be twice the size of hers, but then he was not only male and stronger, but used to this sort of thing.
The afternoon was warm, but not too hot. She eyed the clear sky. “I thought the Pacific Northwest was known for rain.”
“It is. Looks like we’re going to get lucky.” He hesitated just long enough for her breath to catch. “With the weather.”
“Of course,” she murmured. With the weather. What else? Certainly not with each other. It wasn’t her fault that she found the man wildly attractive. The more she got to know him, the worse it got. It wasn’t enough that he was good-looking. No, he had to be smart, funny and kind as well. She was going to have to be very careful when she wrote her article, or she was going to come off like some teenager with a major crush.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked.
He sat on a fallen log and reached for his backpack. Chloe settled next to him. She had two canteens hanging from her pack. They’d stopped at a rapidly flowing stream about a half hour before and refilled their water supply.
“Here you go.” He handed her two protein bars, a small plastic bag filled with what looked like cut-up dried vegetables and fruit, and an apple.
“Goody, five-star cuisine,” she said as she eyed what was supposed to pass for a meal.
“Don’t wrinkle your nose at me, young lady. There are plenty of vitamins and minerals there, along with enough calories for energy.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Usually she was more difficult to read. Was she so open around him, or could he just see inside of her? “I wasn’t complaining. This is different from what I’m used to. I don’t have your ‘bush’ experience. What with how you grew up and all.”
“It wasn’t like this,” he said as he stretched out his long legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. Worn jeans hugged his powerful thighs. “My grandfather didn’t believe in living with physical discomfort. We always traveled first-class.”
“There are a lot of places you can’t get a jet or a limo.”
“True. We used carts and camels, boats, whatever was necessary to get us where he wanted to go. But he arranged for the best. Plenty of staff along to handle the luggage and the details.”
Chloe tried to imagine that kind of life. On one hand, it sounded very exciting, but on the other she would miss having a place to call home.
“Did you like living like that?” she asked.
“I suppose every kid dreams of running away to live a life of adventure. I did that and more. I have experienced things most people just read or dream about. But there were things I missed.”
He stared into the grove of trees, but she knew he was actually seeing a past she could only imagine. How had his world and his life shaped him? What would he have been like if he’d grown up as the boy next door?
“I never had my own room, so I didn’t collect things the way a lot of kids do,” he said. “I didn’t have a lot of friends. In some places there weren’t boys my age around, or if there were, they were busy with school or helping the family. We moved around so much, I would just get to know someone and then it would be time to leave.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “It sounds lonely.”
“Sometimes it was. I had tutors. They were usually with us for a couple of years at a time, so that was something I could depend on.” He shrugged. “Growing up like that is all I know. I can’t pass judgment on it without something to compare it to. I don’t think it was better or worse, just different. I experienced the world from a different point of view. If we planned to settle in one place for a few months, I usually enrolled in the local school.”
He looked at her and grinned. “When I was a teenager I used to complain about not having fast food or high school girls around.”
“So despite everything, you were very normal.”
“I like to think so.” His smile faded. “I always wanted a brother or sister. Someone around my own age to talk to and be with. Grandfather tried, but he wasn’t a peer. I envy you and Cassie for being so close.”
She couldn’t imagine anything in her rather dull life that someone like Arizona would be interested in, but the idea of a sibling made sense.
“She’s my best friend,” she said. “We’re so different, we can’t help arguing sometimes, but none of that really matters. We love each other so much.”
“It shows.” He ripped open the protective covering on one of his protein bars and took a bite. After chewing he asked, “So how are you different?”
She nibbled the dried vegetables and found they tasted better than they looked. “You have to ask? Cassie is a dreamer. She believes in fairy tales and magic.”
“That’s right. And you’re the completely practical one.”
“Exactly. She wants a very traditional life. Husband, children, a home.” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together. A home. The house. That beautiful Victorian house that their parents had left to her instead of leaving it to the two girls equally.
They’d probably been afraid the sisters wouldn’t be able to work out a way to share. No doubt they’d been trying to prevent the house being sold. But their will had reinforced Cassie’s feeling of not truly being a part of the family.
“Is there anything wrong with wanting a traditional life?” Arizona asked.
“No, and it makes sense for her. Cassie just wants to fit in. She wants to have roots.”
“Doesn’t she now?”
“I don’t know that she thinks so.” She shrugged. “It’s complicated. Cassie—” She automatically reached inside the neck of her T-shirt and pulled out the locket she always wore.
Arizona reached over and touched the heart-shaped piece of jewelry. “Connections with the past,” he said. “She has the matching earrings. And her memories. Your parents chose her. Isn’t that enough?”
His dark eyes saw too much, she thought. She felt as if he could look deep down into her soul and that made her nervous. Was she enough for him? Sometimes she didn’t think she was enough for herself, let alone someone else. But then she was used to being confused. It was becoming a constant in her life. She didn’t understand her relationship with Arizona any more than she understood why the man had appeared in her dream. She didn’t know what she wanted from him, what she felt about him, or what he expected from her.
She jerked her thoughts back to their conversation. “I have the house,” she said. “I wish they’d left it to both of us instead of just me.”
“So she would have that connection?” he asked.
She nodded.
He touched the locket again. His knuckle brushed against her throat. A warmth flowed through her, just as it had when he’d taken her hand while they’d been on the trail.
“It’s not the house,” he said. “It’s here.” He placed his fingers against her forehead, then moved them lower, to just above her left breast. “And here. No one can take that away from her. Or you.”
He wasn’t talking about the house anymore, she realized. There was something in his eyes, something dangerous and irresistible. She wanted to lean closer. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close, making her safe. With Arizona she felt safe...and that had been missing from her life since her parents had been killed.
But instead of leaning toward him, she straightened, putting distance between them. Who was this man who invaded both her dreams and her life? What did he want from her? And how on earth was she supposed to resist him and his power?
CHAPTER EIGHT
STARS FILLED THE night sky. Chloe stretched out on her sleeping bag and stared up at the vast expanse of lights above her head. Bradley wasn’t a big town, but it was close enough to Sacramento that the city lights washed out most of the stars, even when the weather didn’t interfere. Or maybe her life had gotten so busy, she didn’t take time to look at the heavens anymore. She would guess most people suffered the same fate. Now, gazing up and admiring the beauty of the stars, she wondered what other wonders filled what she considered her very ordinary life.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Arizona said as he stepped back into camp. He dropped onto his sleeping bag only a few feet from her own.
“I was just thinking that,” she said and tried to ignore the fact that she was going to have to do as he had done and venture out into the wilderness to do her business.
It was bad enough to have to do that during the day when she could see whatever was lurking around, but at night—she would be defenseless. She didn’t want to act all wimpy and girllike, but she couldn’t help picturing herself from a critter’s point of view. A pale white expanse of tempting flesh just hanging there, begging to be bitten or scratched or...
Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself silently. But it was one of the few times she envied men their “equipment” that let them pee standing up.
“So what did you think of dinner?” Arizona asked in a tone that warned her he expected a positive response.
“Great,” she lied cheerfully. “I had been worried that freeze-dried food would taste gritty and odd when it was mixed with boiling water, but I was wrong.”
Actually, it wasn’t a lie. The food at dinner had easily been worse than she’d imagined.
“I liked it, too,” he said. “Beats grubs any day.”
She dismissed him with a wave. “You didn’t eat grubs. This afternoon you said your grandfather liked to travel in style. I’m sure he brought along a chef to cook his favorite dishes.”
“You’re right.” His teeth flashed white in the light of the campfire.
