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“Fair’s fair,” said Zoey. “You’re always looking for a fit and healthy specimen of a man.”
Mila had to admit it was true. “Am I shallow?”
“Not at all. Your primitive brain is telling you he can hunt and defend your children.”
“My primitive brain is annoying.”
Mila didn’t want to want to sleep with Troy. But she did. There, she’d admitted it. She seriously wanted to sleep with Troy. At least she did at some primitive level.
Good thing her nonprimitive brain could override her instincts.
* * *
Mila was more than halfway through the Pinion obstacle course, and Troy couldn’t help but be impressed by her grit. Her strength left something to be desired, but if he was grading on determination, she’d be getting full marks. Unfortunately for her, successful completion was all about timing.
It was a circuitous route over twenty wooded acres behind the company building. The standards allowed four hours to complete the challenging course. Most of their successful recruits did it in three.
Mila did well on the balance challenges. It was obvious she did a lot of running. And she’d done better than he expected on the mud and water obstacles. Her big challenge was strength. She was halfway up the rope-climbing wall, and her arms were shaking with the strain.
On the sidelines, he moved toward her, shouting up.
“You want to call it?”
She had a third of the course yet to go, and there was no way to make it in the time she had left.
“No,” she shouted back, reaching for the next handhold.
“You’re at three hours forty-two.”
She didn’t answer, instead took another step up.
“Are your hands numb?” he called to her.
The air temperature was barely thirty degrees. Her face was pale beneath the mud, her eyes looked too big and her expression was pinched with strain.
She kept climbing.
“Mila.”
But then she was over the top. Part of him wanted to cheer, and part of him wanted to yell at her to give it up already. There was no way for her to succeed. Not now, and really not ever.
She planted her foot on a rope. Then she gripped with her hand. She moved the next foot, took the next handhold, and the next.
But then her foot missed a step, and she lost her grip. She dangled from one hand for a terrifying second before the rough rope slipped from her fingers.
She was falling, and Troy was running, desperate to catch her and at least partially break her fall. But there was too much ground to cover. He couldn’t make it.
She hit the hay mound feet first, her legs instantly collapsing, dropping her onto her back.
“Mila,” he cried out, skidding to a halt, dropping down on his knees. “Don’t move.”
“I’m okay,” she gasped, blinking her eyes.
“You fell thirty feet.”
“Crap.”
“What hurts? Can you move your fingers and toes?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I can move them.” She started to sit up.
“Stay still.” He needed to know if anything was broken.
“Was that legal?”
He didn’t understand the question.
“Is there a limit on how far I can jump off the wall?”
“You didn’t jump.”
“Yeah, I did.” She sat up. “That was a jump. Am I disqualified?”
“No. You fell, Mila. You need medical attention.”
“I’ll get it later.” She tried to get to her feet.
“Will you stop?”
“Will you back off?”
“You could be hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” She successfully staggered to her feet. “Will you quit coddling me? I’m not a woman. I’m a security agent. And I’m fine to carry on.”
“You’re down to fifteen minutes.”
She squared her shoulders. “I know.”
“You’ll never finish.”
She started walking toward the balance beam. Then she gave her head a shake and broke into a trot.
He wanted to stop her. Every instinct inside him told him she shouldn’t be here. This was never intended for a woman. After the balance beam was a mud-and-wire crawl, and then it was a hundred push-ups, the dummy drag and a tire climb. And that was all before the final two-mile run to the finish line.
She was halfway through the wire crawl when the horn sounded. She stopped, groaned and did a face-plant into the mud.
Any sane person would be glad it was over. She didn’t look glad. Then again, she didn’t seem sane, either.
“Mila?” He approached her.
She didn’t answer.
“Are you breathing?”
She gave a weak nod.
He stepped into the obstacle and parted two of the wires, making a hole for her. He wanted to reach out and help her to her feet, but there was no way for him to do both.
She came up on her hands and knees, then she slowly rose, the weight of the mud adding twenty pounds. She staggered to one side and he grabbed her, wrapping an arm firmly around her shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m disappointed.” She swiped a hand across her face, removing some of the mud, smearing the rest.
She’d have looked comical if he hadn’t felt so much pity for her.
“You did better than I expected,” he told her.
“But not good enough.”
“You didn’t give up.”
“No thanks to you.” She smacked him in the center of the chest.
It didn’t hurt, but there was a level of power to the blow that was impressive given her exhausted state.
“I was afraid you’d hurt yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a girl. Therefore, I can’t hack it.”
“Nobody ‘hacks it’ through a broken leg.”
“My legs aren’t broken.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“See?” She shrugged out of his grip and started walking. “Working perfectly.”
She swayed again, and he looped an arm around her waist this time.
“Not perfect,” he said. “But not broken.”
“I’m just a little tired.” She shook out her hands. “And a little dirty.”
He couldn’t help but smile at that. She was a mud slick from head to toe. He didn’t know how she’d get it all out of her hair.
“Can you point me to the showers?”
“We don’t have a women’s facility.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” There was no way in the world he’d allow her to strip down in the men’s locker room.
He helped her into a nearby company jeep for the quarter mile back to the course’s start and finish line at the Pinion building. “You can shower in my bathroom.”
She looked horrified. “I’m not going upstairs like this. I’ll ruin your apartment.”
He couldn’t care less about his apartment right now. But she was probably right.
“Fine,” he said as he drove down the road that circled the course. “We’ll rinse you off in the locker room. Fully clothed. Then you can come upstairs.”
“And flood your carpets?”
“They’ll survive.” He pulled up to the back entrance of the building.
Vegas was there to meet them.
“You did great,” he told Mila.
“For a girl,” she grumbled as she climbed from the vehicle.
Vegas held out a hand to help, but she pointedly ignored it.
“She’s a little testy,” Troy explained to Vegas.
She rounded on Troy. “Must you always frame my behavior as emotional?” She looked at Vegas. “She’s a little tired, and a little grimy. And you’re a little condescending!”
Vegas fought a grin. “You earned me fifty bucks.”
She looked confused.
“I had you timing out at the wire crawl. I was the most optimistic of everybody.”
Mila’s eyes narrowed in her muddy face. “You bet on me?”
“Sure. A bunch of the agents did.”
She shot an accusing look at Troy. “You, too?”
“He had you on the rope wall,” Vegas interjected.
“That’s why you tried to stop me there?”
Troy was insulted. “Yeah,” he said dryly. “I was desperate for the fifty bucks.”
She glared at him. But she had to know the idea was preposterous.
“Let’s get you into a shower,” he said. “You’re a mess.”
Her hand went to her drying cheek, and she rubbed ineffectively at the grit.
“You’d have to pay money for that at a spa,” said Vegas.
“You just can’t stop making the girl jokes, can you?”
Troy stepped back in. “And you can’t control your hypersensitivity.”
“I’m not—”
“Yeah, you are. Come on.” He canted his head toward the door and started walking.
