“Right back at ya,” she said, her lips curving into a sexy smile. “And as soon as we get in that shower, I’ll show you just how handy I really am.”

He immediately stepped beneath the warm spray of water, knowing that his heart was quickly slipping from his grasp and not giving a damn. “Sweetheart, consider me more than willing to be shown.”

9

FIFTEEN MINUTES into the three-and-a-half-hour bus trip-and she used the term bus lightly, as the vehicle was actually a van that looked as if it had belonged to a group of Haight-Ashbury hippies-to the hike start point and Kayla realized that she clearly was far too accustomed to luxury. Her butt was numb from the hard, worn, springless seat and she clung to the metal railing next to the open window-aka the air conditioner-with a white-knuckle grip. The wind whipped her hair across her eyes, a blessing because the less she saw of how close the vehicle frequently came to scraping the huge boulders that lined the bumpy road, the better.

The instant the driver had thrown the vehicle into gear, they’d zoomed off at what felt like a breakneck speed and her heart had lodged in her throat, a place she suspected it would stay.

Still, the scenery-when they emerged from the boulders-was breathtaking. A palette of greens and browns rising up the sides of the majestic Andes, set against a brilliant blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, the perfect backdrop for the array of small, picturesque villages they passed.

Besides the scenery, the only other good thing about the bone-jarring, teeth-clanking drive was that it gave her something to think about besides the man sitting next to her. Or at least it should have. But somehow, even faced with the possibility of bruises and being shaken apart and splattered against a gargantuan rock on the bus ride from hell, her mind remained focused on Brett. On the incredible night they’d spent together. The extraordinary way he’d made her feel. And not just when they were making love-although there was no denying he was great in bed. And on the balcony. And in the shower. And against the wall…

She pressed her lips together and tried to corral her runaway thoughts. But he’d made her feel just as incredible when they’d simply sat and talked. He had a way of looking at her, of focusing on what she said, of really listening, that was extremely flattering. And very attractive. He asked insightful questions and offered spot-on observations, some serious, some humorous, and she found herself engrossed in just talking to him. Watching his beautiful lips form words. The man had the most distracting mouth…

She mentally looked skyward. Good grief, she sounded like a school girl nursing her first crush. Yet, how could she not, when that’s exactly how she felt? Just sitting next to him on this bouncy, dusty ride made her heart race.

But now that they were no longer naked, therefore allowing her to think straight, she needed to get hold of herself and recall why she was here.

The formula. Dr. Thornton’s miracle aphrodisiac wrinkle-reducing cream.

Problem was, it was nearly impossible to equate the Dr. Thornton she’d come to dislike in New York with Brett, the charming American tourist whom she liked very much. Too much. So much that it seriously frightened her. Because in order to do her job, there was no getting around it-she’d have to be dishonest with Brett and also reveal anything he told her to Nelson. She could try to pretty that up and sugarcoat it as much as she wanted, but the bottom line was that she was lying. And betraying Brett.

And that was not sitting well at all this morning.

But what choice did she have? La Fleur was poised to join the ranks of the world’s largest cosmetic companies, a step that would surely happen if they had a product such as the one Thornton laid claim to. Ensuring that La Fleur won the product would be an amazing coup for her-a professional feather in her cap that could open countless doors if her spying mission successfully secured Brett’s formula.

And all she had to do was hide the truth regarding where she worked and why she was here. That would be the lying part, Kayla, her inner voice informed her. Oh yeah, and report any confidential information she managed to finagle out of Brett regarding the formula to Nelson. And that would be the betrayal part, Kayla, her inner voice coldly added.

As if she didn’t know.

As if that didn’t make her heart and stomach and, hell, her entire insides ache with an unpleasant sensation that felt like an allover cramp-the result of her conscience squeezing her.

Fine. So she’d compromise with her conscience. She wouldn’t go out of her way to solicit information from him. But hey, if he volunteered the information, well, she certainly wasn’t deaf. She could hardly slap her hand over his mouth and say, “Don’t tell me anything because I’ll use that information against you.”

No. Especially since she was convinced that La Fleur really was the best company to manufacture his formula, provided it lived up to the hype. Which was one of the things she needed to discover. So, at least for now she’d assuage her conscience by not actively seeking tidbits from him, but if some happened to fall in her lap, well, all bets were off.

There. She felt better now. Sort of. Okay, not really, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

The bus careened around a corner, seemingly on two wheels, and she closed her eyes. When they were once again on a straightaway, she turned toward him and said, “I think they subject you to this bus ride before the hike so that the trek up the mountain seems like a piece of cake in comparison.” She winced when her ass smacked down against the seat courtesy of a pothole of a size even Manhattan had never seen.

He chuckled and slid his arm more securely around her shoulder. The bus was filled to capacity with other hikers from various tour companies, two of whom they’d briefly chatted with prior to departing. The couple, Bill and Eileen Carlson, who Kayla judged to be in their late forties, hailed from Atlanta. They were going on the same tour as Kayla and Brett, but soon after the introductions, the bus had departed Cusco and hanging on for dear life had eclipsed conversing further with the couple.

“Definitely not the sort of limo an uptown girl like you is used to,” Brett said, his eyes filled with teasing warmth.

“Limo, my ass,” she replied, her teeth rattling. “I don’t ride around in limos. I walk everywhere. But you have to admit this road could stand a little repaving.”

“You’ll have to repeat that. I lost track of everything you said after you mentioned your ass, which is extremely fine, by the way.”

“It’s going to be sore and bruised after this.”

“Have I mentioned I’m an excellent masseur?”

“No, but I’m not surprised. You have very talented hands.”

“You inspire them. And a whole big bunch of fantasies, as well.”

“I’d love to hear them, but I’m afraid we might bite off our tongues if we keep trying to talk.”

“So I shouldn’t mention that our tongues figure prominently in my fantasies?”

Heat that had nothing to do with the hot, dusty ride whooshed through her. “Why don’t you hold that thought until we’re alone, and then you can show me?”

He grinned and her nipples hardened. Just like that. Damn, what this man could do to her with a simple grin was nothing short of absurd. And…wonderful. In a way she’d never before experienced. In a way she was liking far more than was wise.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

She laughed. “I’ve already shown you mine.”

“I know. And I can’t wait to see it again.”

God help her, neither could she.

Thankfully the bus driver slowed down, lessening the stomach-lurching jouncing, and Kayla took the opportunity to pull her small cosmetics bag from an outer flap on her backpack.

“My lips feel like the Sahara,” she said, pulling out her favorite La Fleur moisturizing lipstick. Before she could apply the soothing salve, he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers.

“They feel good to me.”

“That’s because I wear this…” She held up the slim tube. “Although keeping it on my lips has been a challenge with you around. You keep kissing it off.”

He stole another quick kiss then leaned back. “To use your question, is that a complaint?”

“To use your words, hell no.”

She felt his gaze upon her while she applied the sheer wash of glossy pink color.

He glanced down at her cosmetics bag and a teasing light gleamed in his eyes. “Makeup? On a hike, princess?”

“Hey, a girl needs her moisturizer and SPF protection, especially in the sun-drenched mountains.” After Kayla recapped the lipstick, Brett took the tube from her, his gaze bouncing from the flower image on the tube to the matching image on her cosmetics bag.

“La Fleur,” he said.

Of course, he would know. But most guys wouldn’t have a clue. So she swallowed her guilt and raised her brows, feigning surprise. “That’s right. How did you know? Keeping your finger on the pulse of the cosmetics industry?”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I recognize the flower. Their ads are on billboards all over Manhattan. You like their stuff?”

A fissure of relief worked its way through her guilt. At least she could honestly answer his question. “I do. I’m sort of a cosmetics junkie-I love trying new products. Out of all the stuff out there, and believe me there’s a lot, I like La Fleur the best.”

“Why?”

“The purity of their ingredients. Their color palettes. I’ve found that some cosmetics companies will carry one, maybe two products that I like-an eye pencil or a mascara. But with La Fleur, I like all their products.”