She wanted it to go on forever—the slick slide of his tongue over hers, the scrape of his teeth against her lips—and so she groaned when he started to draw away. As if he understood, he ended the kiss in stages, withdrawing by degree so as not to leave her plundered mouth suddenly empty and aching for him. Still she chased his departing lips, going up onto her tiptoes for one last, clinging contact.
Now he groa
ned, too, and cupped her jaw to keep her in place as he eased away. “What are you doing right now?”
You, she hoped, but she shook her head and replied, “No plans. I was checking my emails. I’m still in a state of shock because I just found out I got the promotion at work.”
His smile was immediate and genuine. “Congratulations. This calls for a celebration. Come with me.” He took her hand and tugged her out the door.
“Wait. I need my room key.”
He let her go and held the door open while she retrieved it from the nightstand. Her body hummed with anticipation for the celebration. Primed to the point that she could barely stand the thought of walking all the way down the hall to his room. She didn’t know what was wrong with her room, considering it was virtually identical to his, with the added benefit of being right here…but whatever. She quickened her steps, brushed past him into the hall, and turned toward his room. Maybe Logan liked the home court advantage? Except…he didn’t take it. He clasped her hand and led her to the elevator, away from his room.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He nudged her into the elevator when she hung back. Then followed her in and hit the button for the lobby.
Okay, that was a surprise, because she somehow doubted he intended to have sex with her in the lobby. The hormone combustion his kiss had lit inside her fizzled as concern set in. “Logan, I’m not dressed to go anywhere.”
“You’re dressed perfectly for what I have in mind.”
She glanced at him from under lowered lashes. Was this “surprise” some kind of payback for sneaking out of his room? He didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked relaxed and…pleased.
When the elevator stopped he took her hand and led her across the lobby. Within moments they were out the double doors of the resort and following an “Adventure Trail” that the signage indicated led to a whole bunch of stuff that made her palms sweat. Destinations included the Corkscrew, Bear Trap, Half Pipe and something called the Wall. None of them sounded like the kind of adventure she would survive.
Her nervous symptoms advanced from sweaty palms to stomach cramps when they peeled off the main path and onto a smaller path toward the Wall. Then she saw it. Stretching straight up into the sky—high into the sky—stood one of those man-made rock walls. The kind people had to don special harnesses and helmets to attempt. He marched them right over to the ticket booth.
She dug her heels in when he told the guy at the booth, “Two adults.”
“Oh, no. No. No. I’ll watch.”
The ticket guy glanced at Logan questioningly, but he merely shook his head, held up two fingers and handed the attendant his credit card. To her he said, “You have a wild side, remember? You don’t scare easily. You were the one who got the snake out of the shed. You were the first one to jump into the river from the oak tree.”
“When I was a kid! It’s been years since I climbed an oak tree, or anything else, and the tree was not a thousand feet high.”
Logan took his credit card, the receipt, and the tickets from the attendant, and then turned to her. The little groove beside his mouth appeared, and she felt her resolve weakening. “You’re nine hundred and eighty-five feet off in your estimate.” He read from the sign at the base of the wall, “The Beaver Creek Climbing Wall provides fifteen feet of safe and exciting climbing challenges.”
She watched a boy who looked about ten, and clearly had the genes of a spider monkey, scramble up the wall. “It’s a broken leg waiting to happen.”
“You’re safely roped to a state-of-the-art belay system, and I’ll be right beside you the entire time.” He leaned close, his face serious, and softly promised, “I won’t let you fall.”
The words drifted over her skin, and all those hypersensitive nerve endings he’d awaked yesterday came tingling to attention. All she could do was stare helplessly into his fascinating gray-green eyes, but she must have made some conflicted sound, because he moved his lips to her ear and in a low voice added, “Trust me. Just like you did last night.”
In her mind, New Sophie urged, For God’s sake, trust him!
“I— ” Her dry throat choked on the words.
The corner of his mouth kicked up into a grin and she heard the words as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud. I. Dare. You.
Screw it, what was the worst that could happen? She’d slip, the belay line would fail, and she’d fall fifteen feet to land on her butt on the cushion of mats stacked at the base of the wall. She’d probably only spend a couple of months in traction.
“Okay,” she heard herself say over the deafening sound of her blood pounding in her ears. Minutes later she found herself facing the wall, snapped into a harness and clipped to the belay line. She touched a nubby blue molded plastic handhold sticking out of the wall directly in front of her. “How do I…um…mount this thing?” Crap, that didn’t sound right.
“Grab on to the highest handholds you can comfortably reach.” He demonstrated, grabbing two handholds that were ideally placed for him and might as well have been on the moon for her. “Then, using your right foot, get a toehold on an outcrop about knee high, figure out where your left foot is going to go—aim for a crag a few inches higher than the one supporting your right foot—and then…” He lifted himself onto the wall. Gracefully. Effortlessly. And all the spit in her mouth dried as she watched his calves go taut and his back muscles flex and bunch under his shirt.
He hopped back down and raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”
To climb you like a rock wall? Yes. To climb this thing? No. “As I’ll ever be.”