Except her auburn brow furrowed, and he saw something flash in her eyes that made him take a step back. It was fierce and determined. More than he’d seen in any other woman.
“I can manage just fine,” she said. “I brought all the supplies I need to survive, just like Gage told me, and I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”
She rummaged through her purse, and Dex saw flashes of aisle twelve at the Bass Pro Shop lining her bag. Christ, was that fishing lure and an inflatable life vest?
“We’re not getting in the water,” he informed her.
She clearly saw him eyeing the contents of her bag. She raised her chin. “The store clerk told me everything I needed for surviving the wilderness. I’m prepared for anything.”
He barely restrained a chuckle, but he still felt it in his gut.
This was worse than he thought. Still, he faked an annoyed smiled and said, “Super.” Fighting with her would get him nowhere. She wanted to test him? No problem. He just had to outlast her, and when she was ready to cave, he’d get her back to her car. And she would cave. “Let’s head out then.”
As he took off in the direction of the camp point, he heard Perfect-Ass Barbie huffing and struggling behind him in those “boots” of hers. He flexed his hands thinking of her cleavage encased in that “light and breathable” sweater.
And he was stuck with her all night.
He was going to kill Gage.
Chapter Two
Michelle wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and tried to tamp down her panting. Hiking through the wilderness was putting her Pilates video to shame. She didn’t appreciate the attitude she was getting from the overgrown G.I. Joe. She also didn’t appreciate that she’d been walking behind him for the past hour and a half, and all she could focus on was his obscenely nice butt.
The thing daunted her. Every time she looked up, there it was. Hard and perfect, those tactile, dark pants hugging him in all the right spots. His biceps didn’t seem to care that a shirt was trying to contain them. Instead, they just bulged out, like nothing, not even that pathetic cotton, could hold them.
Her whole balance shook, like there was an earthquake happening inside her. The man was fine. Beyond fine. So fine that she’d lost her center, and when she took another step forward, she stumbled and barely caught herself.
“Shoot,” she said and righted herself.
She was staring at his ass when she should have been focused on staying upright. Now he probably thought she was helpless. Look at her, the girl can’t even walk straight.
“You’re going to bust an ankle walking in those,” he said over his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
She knew this would be difficult, but that was part of the adventure, right? It wasn’t like she was going to starve, die, or be traumatized for living one night outside. And this only got her closer to checking off crucial items on her To Do list. She wouldn’t fail this mission and run back to her car. She’d see this through. Just like she’d see her own business through. Just like she’d establish a great life in this small town that was all her own. Because it was hers for the taking. Now if only she could just…succeed.
G.I. Joe just shook his head and continued on. He had a backpack not much bi
gger than her purse, which gave her hope that she’d brought just enough to manage the night in the woods. And she did have her essentials. This was an adventure after all. A step toward the independence she craved. And she would stay positive and take in every moment.
When the wind kicked up, she buttoned two pearls and hoped it wouldn’t get much colder…
“Let’s set up camp for the night here,” he said when they reached a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and low hanging branches.
She wanted to say, “Oh, thank God.” Because her feet were killing her. She made a mental note to write to Jimmy Choo and let him know the “sexy sleek black bootie meant for the rugged vixen in all of us” was misleading.
“You know, you never told me your name,” she asked, coming to stand next to the hulking man.
He shucked off his pack, the tight black T-shirt pulling even tighter over some seriously cut chest muscles, and her dry mouth watered instantly.
“Dex,” he said, hitting her with a dark green gaze she couldn’t look away from. His brown hair was slightly disarrayed. Many men strove for that careless yet crafted hairstyle with product, but it was clear Dex just woke up and rolled out of bed. Effortless hotness. Paired with his strong jaw shadowed with stubble, he had “sexy commander” down pat.
“I’m Michelle,” she said with a smile. When she reached out her hand to shake his, her ankle caught on a tree root. She barely cut off a wince of pain from her pinkie toe pinching inside her boot.
He caught her by taking her hand, and the way he effortlessly righted her made her feel even more embarrassed. To his credit, he didn’t make anything of it, just cupped her hand in a firm shake. His hand was rough, skin marred with callouses, and she liked the way they scratched against her palms.
Instead of shaking it and offering some manners and a kind smile, he turned her hand so he could examine it.