Out of control, a little voice whispered in his head. You’re out of control, needing her this way. “There’s a storm coming,” he said gruffly, forcing himself to step back. He needed to back off, way off. “I’m going for supplies.”

“Can I come?”

God, no. “Another time.” He turned away from the far too welcome sight of her and walked to his Jeep.

She simply followed. “Why is it so hard for you to admit you might care for me, just a little?”

He opened the Jeep door and wondered why women all had to do this, had to analyze everything to death. “Dammit, I care for you.”

“Well I know that. I’m just wondering why it’s so hard for you to say so,” she said simply.

Ignoring her, he got in.

So did she. “Afraid of something, Chance?”

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “This is a bad idea, Ally.”

“Really?” She turned those huge, expressive eyes right on him. “You didn’t think so last night when you tossed me onto my bed, took off my clothes and-”

“I remember,” he said tightly.

“So why can we be so unbelievably intimate in the bedroom, but when it comes to outside of it, you shut me out?”

“I haven’t changed.”

She stared at him, then slowly shook her head, looking sad. “Then I guess it’s me that’s changed.” She turned back to the window.

In the tight confines of the Jeep, which he hadn’t yet started, he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, could see all her smooth, soft skin, could reach out and touch her whenever he wanted, which was only every living second. He was right in thinking it had to stop. Some men might mistake love for lust, but not Chance. He knew that what was happening to his insides, this gut-twisting, brain-boggling need for her was just a major case of lust. That was all. “Ally-”

“Those clouds really do look dark,” she said. “It’s going to storm. I love the rain.”

Yeah, so did he. He could see the two of them, out in the wilderness, the rain pounding over their slick, naked, straining bodies as he brought her to another mind-blowing, screaming, wild climax-

“Chance?” She looked at him then. “Don’t ask me to get out.”

“Ally-”

“Please? We don’t have to talk.” A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

Thank God.

She let him sink into a comfort zone, let him start the Jeep and get down the curvy mountain road a good mile or so before she said, “But it would be nice.”

He nearly crashed. He’d known not to take this…this thing between them this far. Only he hadn’t listened to his brain, no he’d listened to the part of him that had its own agenda, and look where it’d gotten him. In a small truck out in the middle of nowhere with a woman who wanted to discuss the relationship he still hadn’t admitted they had.

As if the heavens above found this all very amusing, the wind kicked up to what had to be at least eighty miles an hour. The skies decided to open up, too, and the rain came down in sudden droves. The fog, which hadn’t been a problem until now, dropped low, blinding them.

It was as good an excuse as any to concentrate on not getting them killed. On one side of the road was a sheer cliff rising two hundred feet above them. There were many craggly pines that had forced their roots into the rock, jutting out at different angles, as much a part of that mountain as the rock itself. The other side of the road was a sheer drop-off.

“Jo said you train here sometimes,” Ally said. “In cliff climbing.” She pressed her face to the window and sighed. “That’s something I really want to try before I leave.”

Before I leave. He was torn between wanting her to leave now and wanting her to leave…never. “Haven’t you had enough adventures during your time here?”

“No.”

He gripped the steering wheel hard. “You’re in over your head, Ally. When are you going to admit that?”

For a long moment, she just looked at him, then without a word turned back to the window.

Good. Great. He’d finally accomplished his goal. She hated him. That was a good thing, he told himself.

Which in no way explained his sense of loss. But then he realized he had a bigger problem and pulled over to the side of the treacherous, deserted two-lane road.

Both of them stared at the large, newly fallen branch blocking their way. With a sigh, Chance pulled out his radio and called the resort. “Got a little problem here on the road,” he told Jo. “We’ll be later than we thought.”

Then he turned to Ally. “Stay here.” He pulled rain gear from the back seat.

“Why?”

“Because I can handle it.”

A storm gathered in her gaze to match the one outside. “Why should I let you do all the work?”

“So you can stay dry?”

She uttered an entirely uncharacteristic word.

Shocked, he stared at her.

“Didn’t know I knew that one, huh?” She said it again, then glared at him, all charged up. “I’m stronger than I look, Chance. I can hike. Bike. Kayak. I can help run a resort. Why, I can even get myself dressed in the morning, so believe me, I can lift a damn branch.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“And you know what else?” Her eyes flashed. “I can have feelings for you if I want to, whether it makes you break out into hives or not.” She untied the sweater from around her waist and angrily stuck her arms into it, determination blaring from every pore.

“That sweater isn’t going to stop the rain from soaking you.”

She twisted around and reached into the back of his Jeep, grabbing his backup oilskin. “This will.”

“It’s just a damn branch.” He was irritated because she looked so good wearing all that stubborn pride. She looked good wearing his jacket, too, which dwarfed her so much that only her fingertips poked out the sleeves.

She looked good looking at him.

She followed him into the storm as he knew she would. She followed him to the branch, as he knew she would. And she lifted right along side of him, though the wind slashed at them, and they were drenched within seconds.

Lightning lit the sky, and almost immediately came the clap of thunder, far too close for comfort. Suddenly an inconvenient branch in the way became a serious threat.

“Go back to the truck,” he shouted as they slowly dragged the heavy branch to the side of the road. “I can get it-”

“We’re almost done,” she shouted right back, straining along with him.

And that’s when he saw it in her eyes. Self-doubt. Fear.

But when he blinked and looked again, both were gone. And suddenly he knew the truth-his little city warrior had faked him out. She wasn’t nearly as sure of herself as she wanted him to believe.

He should have known, maybe he’d always known, but that she could put on such a good show, make such an unbelievable go of it, staggered him. “You’re doing great,” he heard himself say to her.

She went still, then flashed him a smile that took his breath. “Thanks.”

He was moving backwards towards the edge of the road, hauling the branch with him. She pushed from the other end, from the middle of the highway. They’d nearly cleared enough room for the Jeep to fit through when a car came roaring up the road.

It was moving far too fast, far too recklessly, and Chance waved and shouted for the driver to slow down.

It didn’t.

Tourists, he had time to think in disgust. Stupid tourists who thought the weather was exciting, and the roads infallible and their own driving skills perfect.

“Chance.” Ally breathed his name, fear etched on her face. “He’s going too fast!”

“Ally, move. Run.”

But she stood there in the way, mesmerized in horror.

The driver finally noticed the branch, not to mention both Chance and Ally struggling with it, but Chance knew it was too late, and Ally, still out in the middle of the road, was the vulnerable one. With every ounce of strength he had, he whirled, pulling both the branch-and Ally-with him, whiplashing her toward the side of the road where he stood.

She tumbled hard, landing a few feet from the edge of the cliff on her hands and knees.

The driver slowed, and swerved to the right, but it was too-little-too-late. His tires lost traction and the car lost control. It headed directly for Chance’s Jeep, and hit with a sickening crunch.

The car came to an abrupt halt.

The Jeep took the impact, and surged with it, moving, sliding toward the cliff, only feet away from where Ally was still on her hands and knees.

Chance started running, putting himself between Ally and the moving Jeep, thinking he could stop its movement with one great heave, but thankfully Ally scrambled out of the way. Sure that he could still stop the Jeep, saving the vehicle from going over the side of the cliff, he braced himself and reached out. But the strangest thought went through his head.

He was risking his life for a car.

Only weeks ago he would have done it without thinking. But something was different. He was different.

Ally screamed his name. It echoed through the wind and over the rain. He turned toward her to tell her not to worry, that he wasn’t going to needlessly risk himself, not now, not when he knew the truth.

He’d changed because of her.

“Chaaaance!” She was moving back toward him in slow motion, panic and terror in her eyes, her hands waving as she tried to warn him. Because while he’d stopped with his life-altering realization, while he’d decided to walk away, the Jeep hadn’t slowed at all, and as it approached the last few feet before the cliff, as it set itself in a motion that couldn’t be stopped, it took him with it.

Right over the edge.

It happened so very slowly that Chance literally saw his life flash before his eyes, just as everyone always claimed. He saw his parents, wild and free in Las Vegas, having the times of their lives.