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The plan was to build a small fire in a shallow pit and feed it through the night. If they heard or saw what might be a search plane, they would pile on more wood and shoot off the flare gun. Meanwhile, the fire would lend some warmth and discourage coyotes, javelinas, and other nighttime visitors.
Even with the fire crackling, the night was chilly. They moved the blanket closer, opened two more water bottles, and divided a chocolate peanut energy bar between them.
“This isn’t bad,” Brock said, unwrapping his half of the bar. “But when we get back to civilization, I’m taking you out for the juiciest, tenderest prime steak in the whole damned country.”
“Right now, I’d settle for a platter of nachos at Lefty’s.”
Tess studied the way the firelight enhanced his chiseled face and brought out the shadow of beard that had darkened during the day. His free hand rested on his knee, the rolled-up sleeve exposing a tanned forearm sprinkled with black hair. She recalled the night when he’d danced with her, his strong arms around her, his body brushing hers, setting off forbidden tingles all the way down to her thighs.
That night had awakened responses she’d buried when Mitch died.
She checked the impulse to reach for his hand. She’d only end up making a fool of herself. Brock was a compellingly attractive man, and he wouldn’t be above seeing the gesture as an invitation. But he wasn’t a keeper. Domesticating him would be like trying to keep a wild leopard in the house.
And right now, Brock was the least of her worries.
“What are you thinking, Tess?” His voice, close to her ear, was like rough velvet.
She gave him a faint smile. “Just the usual questions. Is Lexie all right? Is my family worried about me? Will we ever be rescued, or will some traveler find our bones next to what’s left of a rusted plane?”
“Let me try to answer your questions,” he said. “First, we know that Lexie and her baby are in skilled hands. All we can do is hope for the best. Second, of course your family is worried about you. They love you. And third, this isn’t the Sahara Desert. People will be looking for us—I can promise you they’ll find us. And just so you’ll know, the plane won’t rust. It’s made of a high-tech composite that will probably last forever. Did that help?”
Tess gazed into the flames. “Not really. But thank you for trying.”
“Tess, Tess!” He slipped a companionable arm around her shoulders. “I love your honesty—among other things. You’re an amazing woman.”
Tess willed herself to ignore the words. They were only Brock’s way of joking.
“You’re shivering,” he said.
“I know. It’s getting cold, and we mustn’t waste wood on a bigger fire. Too bad neither of us brought a coat.”
“Too bad? I wouldn’t say that.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, cradling her like a child. His body was warm through the light linen shirt he wore. Turning in his arms, she rested her head against his chest. The sound of his heart, beating close to her ear, was strong and steady.
“How’s that? Better?”
“Better.”
“Not shivering anymore?”
She shook her head. His shirt smelled of sweat and sagebrush. She closed her eyes, letting the rich, masculine scent flow through her. Slowly she began to relax.
“Sleep if you feel like it,” he said. “I’ll keep watch and wake you if anything happens.”
“I’ll be fine. I just want to be warm.” As the minutes passed, Tess became aware that she was anything but sleepy. With his closeness seeping into her senses, her heart had quickened to a gallop. Desire pulsed in the depths of her body, growing warmer and more urgent. Could he tell?
They had both fallen silent. She could hear his deepening breath. His hand ranged down the curve of her spine, seeking the loose hem of her shirt. A little gasp escaped her mouth as his fingers splayed on bare skin and moved up to find the clasp of her bra.
“If you’re going to stop me, do it now,” he muttered. “I want you, Tess. But I want you willing.”
A dim inner voice whispered that stopping would be wise. But this was no time for wisdom. Tess was on fire. She raised her head for his kiss, her response telling him all he needed to know.
Her bra fell loose. The hand that had freed the clasp slid up to cup her breast, his thumb stroking her sensitive nipple. A moan formed in Tess’s throat as she arched upward. Not until now had she realized how much she wanted him to touch her—how much she wanted to touch him.
Unbidden, she tugged at his belt buckle. Brock opened the way for her to find him. She gasped as her fumbling fingers closed around him. He was big and rock solid, heavy against her hand.
“Tell me where you want it, Tess.” His voice was a whispered growl. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Leaning close to him, she spoke into his ear, using words she’d never thought she’d speak aloud. Just saying them aroused her.
