Appreciation, along with a flare of unmistakable desire filled his eyes. “Wow,” he murmured. “I was expecting pretty, but…wow.” He cleared his throat. “In case you’re wondering, ‘wow’ is a highly scientific term meaning ‘you’re gorgeous.’”

Her heart fluttered in the most ridiculously pleased way. “Thank you.”

“Your eyes are the exact color of burning copper.”

She blinked. “Uh, thanks. I think. But my eyes are green.”

“Exactly. When copper is burned, it emits a green glow.” His lips curved into a crooked, sheepish grin. “It’s a whole laboratory, Bunsen-burner thing. Trust me…it’s a compliment.”

“In that case, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He handed her her sunglasses, and their fingers brushed, shooting a spark up her arm. In an effort to distract herself and keep from touching him to see if he’d cause another spark, she reached for her water. “So, what do you think I do for a living?”

“Magician,” he answered without hesitation.

“And you guess that because…?”

He reached out and trailed a single fingertip over the back of her hand. “You’ve cast some sort of spell on me.”

A sensual thrill zoomed through her, not only from his featherlight touch, but because he clearly felt this…whatever she was experiencing…too.

“Not a magician,” she assured him.

“Victoria’s Secret model?”

“Because you’re hoping I am?”

“No, because you’re beautiful enough to be one.”

“Are you always such a flatterer?”

“No. In fact, I’m really bad at it-you’ve clearly already forgotten how I compared your eyes to burning copper. Something for which I should be grateful.”

“Actually, I gave you points for originality.”

“Oh? Good to know.” His fingertip skimmed over her hand once again, then he leaned back in his chair and gave her a speculative look. She barely refrained from stretching out her hand toward him in a silent invitation to touch her again. “About your profession…given that you’re friendly and have no difficulties talking to people, I’d guess you’re in sales or marketing.”

She laughed. “You went from underwear model to marketing?”

“All part of the scientific method. How about talk-show hostess?”

“You were closer with marketing. I’m in public relations.”

He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.” His grin flashed. “So, what sort of relations do you have with the public?”

Not the sort I’m suddenly fantasizing about sharing with you. “Some good, some troublesome. Some clients are easy to deal with, others require more…finesse.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at it.”

“I am,” she said, without false modesty. Because she was good at her job, and she worked damned hard. “But lately…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned, wondering why she’d continued.

“But lately what?”

She shrugged, not prepared to confide feelings she barely understood herself to a man she scarcely knew, and also unwilling to say anything that might cast a pall on their easy camaraderie. Forcing a smile, she said lightly, “Lately I’ve needed a change. Which is why I’m here.”

He raised his bottle of water. “Amen to that.”

She tapped the rim of her drink against his and took a sip, watching him tip back his head to draw a long swallow, his strong throat working, his large hand dwarfing the bottle. Good grief, he even looked good when he drank water.

When he lowered his drink, their eyes met and held, and just as before, she felt the impact of his direct, compelling gaze like a heated wallop. One that made her breath catch, but not in any way she could blame on the eleven-thousand-foot altitude.

“Which hiking tour are you taking?” he asked.

“It’s a four-day, three-night tour with Inca Trail Explorations. It departs at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” She shot him a half smile. “I’m not sure if I’m more excited or more nervous.”

“Do you know your guide’s name?”

“Not off the top of my head, but I can easily find out.” She pulled the leather pouch where she kept all her travel documents from her tote bag, then scanned her tour itinerary. “His name is Paolo Trucero.” She looked up from the papers. “I’m hoping Paolo’s done this a thousand times before and knows what he’s doing.”

“According to my travel agent, he does.” His lips curved into a sexy, lopsided smile. “I’m on that same tour.”

She feigned surprise and experienced a sharp, unexpected jolt of self-reproach. A guilt-induced heated flush swept up her back all the way to her scalp, and she wished she’d slipped her sunglasses back on to hide her eyes to prevent him from possibly seeing the truth-that she knew damn well they were on the same tour. She wanted to look away from his warmly admiring regard which only served to heap on more guilt.

What had happened to her desire for payback? Darned if she knew. All she did know was that revenge was not among the tingly feelings this man inspired.

Would he guess the truth? Part of her almost wished he would so as to put an end to her spying mission which she found less and less palatable with each passing minute. But no hint of suspicion showed in his gaze. No, instead he was looking at her as if he’d just been given an unexpected gift. Hello, another layer of guilt.

She offered him a smile. “Looks like we’ll be spending the next four days together.”

“I’m thinking that’s good news.”

“I’m thinking I agree.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

An image instantly materialized in her mind…of him and her, naked, sweaty, her legs wrapped around his waist, him thrusting deep inside her.

Heat pooled in her stomach and she had to swallow twice to find her voice, and even then only managed a whisper. “Starving.”

“A porter at my hotel recommended a place at the other end of the plaza that serves everything from local dishes to wood-fire pizzas. He assured me the food is good and embarrassingly cheap. Would you care to join me?”

Another erotic image flashed through her mind…of her joining him under the deluge of a hot, steamy shower. She blinked to clear the image. No wonder it was recommended that travelers give themselves at least a day to get used to the altitude. The thin air was clearly affecting her ability to think of anything other than sex. Or maybe it was just that for the first time in a long time, she felt…free. With no one to look after except herself. No family drama to deal with. There was, of course, the work issue-the reason she was here-but spending time with Brett Thornton was precisely what she was supposed to be doing. Right?

Or maybe it was that she found herself not only extremely attracted to this man, but curious about him as well. Her instincts-which she considered very reliable-were telling her that this man was trustworthy, and not the sort to make false claims. And that if he blew off an important party, maybe he’d had a good reason for doing so. Still, she needed to consider that her instincts might be somewhat derailed by the surge of hormones racing through her body.

But, regardless of the reason, there was only one answer to his question. “I’d love to join you.” She shot him a teasing grin. “But what if we share a meal together and discover we can’t stand each other? It might make things awkward on the trail.”

He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. His face was no more than a foot from hers and her breath caught at the heat simmering in his gaze. “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be problem. But I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

And again, there was only one answer. Looking into his eyes, she said, “I’m willing to risk it.”

4

A WAITER ESCORTED them to a quiet, secluded alcove in the back room of the nearly deserted restaurant, ensconcing them in a privacy that felt both warm and intimate. Once seated amongst the richly colored Andean textiles and exposed Inca stonework, Brett pretended to study the menu, but in reality he was studying the woman seated adjacent to him.

She’d removed her straw hat, revealing a sleek, glossy cap of chin-length auburn hair that his fingers itched to touch. He was debating the wisdom of giving in to the urge when she raised her gaze from the menu. “Have you decided what you want?” she asked.

You. In so many ways it’s making my head spin. “You mean from the menu?”

He really liked the heat that flared in her eyes. “Yes. For now.”

And he also really liked that she wasn’t shy. And that she clearly felt this same strong attraction as he. Setting down his menu, he said, “My Spanish consists mostly of silent gestures.” He demonstrated by nodding yes, shaking his head, then mimed asking for the check. “How’s yours?”

“Also pretty basic. I can say, ‘Where’s the hospital?’ ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ and ‘I need a policeman.’”

“Clearly our priorities are different because my two basic phrases contain the words cold beer and hot food.”

She laughed. “Between the two of us we have the necessities covered. You teach me your phrases and I’ll teach you mine.”

“I don’t know. Yours are all about asking for directions, which is something men don’t do. Do you know anything useful like-” he reached out and lightly entwined their fingers “-‘My dinner companion has the softest hands I’ve ever felt?’”

Her breath caught at the contact, then her lips twitched. “I’m afraid not. But I do know that pizza means, well, pizza, and that queso and tomate mean cheese and tomato, so I think I can order us a decent meal without too much trouble.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave the dinner order in your capable hands. Knowing my luck, I’d end up ordering something like sautéed earthworms by mistake.”

“I understand they serve those on the trail to Machu Picchu,” she said with a teasing grin.