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She scrambled to face him, heat coursing through her cheeks. From the way he was smirking, he’d enjoyed watching her clamber around on all fours like an idiot. Either that, or he’d been checking out her ass.
“Just get the bucket, will you?” she said.
“My pleasure.” He retrieved it with little effort. Then he hefted her pack—as if it weighed five pounds instead of forty—and crammed it in. “There. All set.”
Did he have to sound so smug about it? “Thanks,” she muttered.
He placed his hand to his ear. “What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.”
She gritted her teeth. “Thank you.”
“No problem. If you need to cool down, there’s water in the Jeep. You’ll need to ride in the back because the passenger seat’s full of supplies.”
Still fuming, she climbed in the back seat next to TJ, grabbed one of the stainless-steel bottles, and chugged the ice-cold water. As she leaned her head against the seat, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. A quick nap might recharge her batteries, but if she drifted off now, she might snore. Or drool. She’d humiliated herself enough for one day.
Rick pulled away from the curb and exited the terminal area. He zipped through a series of complicated roundabouts, then merged onto the highway. Though he was driving on the left side of the road, he seemed comfortable behind the wheel.
Of course he’s comfortable. Everything comes easy for him.
Not like her. At age twenty-six, she’d worked damn hard to get this far in her academic career. She’d taken out student loans, worked multiple jobs, and applied for every scholarship under the sun. No one had ever handed her anything.
Turning her focus away from Rick, she peered out the window, curious for her first glimpse of Cyprus. Rolling green hills, scraggly brush, and scruffy pine trees dominated the landscape. Atop one of the hills was an array of tall windmills, but they resembled the stark wind turbines she’d seen in the Midwest rather than the iconic old windmills found on the Greek islands. Billboards along the side of the road advertised real estate companies and luxury villas. They passed a highway sign listing the distance in Greek and English. Seventy miles to go.
That gave her a little over an hour to recover from her shock at seeing Rick. Not only was he back in her life, but she’d be working with him for the next six weeks.
Remorse washed over her as she recalled what she’d done to him. After they’d left Clear Lake, she’d cut him off completely. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. But the fallout from their mistakes had been so devastating she wanted to put the whole summer behind her.
That didn’t mean she’d forgotten him. Or the passionate memories they’d made. But if she wanted to succeed at this job, she couldn’t let those memories tempt her into losing control of her emotions again.
She couldn’t let anyone knock her off course.
Not even Rick Langston.
