Within five days, just enough time for her to get good and deep into the wilderness in Canada, she’d fallen ill. By the time she’d gotten to a hospital, she’d had pneumonia.
She’d died there.
And though he’d told himself he hadn’t loved her, his chest had felt as though it had caved in. Most of it had been guilt, but he had a terrible feeling it’d been more, much more.
Never again had he fallen for a sweet, little thing with huge, expressive eyes. Never again had he let a woman convince him he needed her for anything but a hot, lusty sexual release.
It’d been awhile since any sort of sexual release at all, thanks to his insane work schedule. Which had to explain why he was driving this annoying-as-hell woman—who just happened to have big, expressive eyes, damn her—and all he could think about was the way that her blouse had continued to cling her to her like a second skin.
Suddenly hot, he leaned forward and flicked off the heater, at the exact moment she leaned forward to crank it up. Their hands brushed, and when he looked at her, his mouth was only a fraction of an inch from hers.
Skittish, she jerked back, and he had to smile grimly. No hot, lusty sexual release coming from that corner.
Now she had her nose pressed to the window, watching the magnificent landscape go by, and he had to shake his head. “I’m guessing you’ve never been in the wilds before.”
“Not unless you count the downtown bus station at about five o’clock in the afternoon.”
“That’s a zoo, not the wilds,” he said, disgusted, and unable to help his curiosity, he asked, “You’ve never even camped?”
“Once.” Her lips curved, and her eyes unfocused a little as she remembered. “In my backyard. I ate marshmallows, drank sodas and sang songs. It was wonderful. Then I was bit by a spider and it got infected, and I threw up the marshmallows. And then on the way to the bathroom, I slipped on the garden hose and broke my ankle.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “Haven’t camped since.” She sighed. “Or eaten marshmallows.” Then she bit her lip and slid him a glance. “And you should know, the last time I was on a bike I broke my arm. I was twelve. But I can swim, just not really well.”
Amazing. Terrifying. “But certainly you’ve traveled around.”
“No.”
How could someone be so content as to stay in one place? It was beyond his comprehension. “So why did you come?”
“Because Lucy needed me.”
“You always come running when people ask?”
Her nose went in the air. “It’s called family loyalty.”
He slowly shook his head. “No obligation would ever hold me to a place I didn’t want to be.”
“You sound bitter.”
Nope. Just uninterested in any serious ties. There was no payoff in getting his heart tromped on, as he knew all too well.
“And anyway,” she said. “Who said I didn’t want to be here?” But her shoulders slumped just a little. Her eyes filled with worry. “God. I hope I’m not a fool to think I can do this.”
Just what he wanted to hear. Sorry, Lucy, he thought as he whipped the Jeep around, not quite managing to hide his relief.
Ally gripped the dash and stared at him, alarm etched on her features. “What are you doing?”
Getting as far from you as possible. “I’ll take you back to the airport.”
“No! You…you can’t.”
“You’re a fool to think you can do this,” he repeated, not very patiently or kindly. “You said it, not me.”
“I know what I said,” she snapped. Right in front of his eyes, she drew herself up, his leather jacket crinkling softly on her body.
And she suddenly didn’t remind him of Tina at all.
“I was just thinking out loud,” she said haughtily. “Don’t listen to me.”
Well, wasn’t that a woman for you. “Don’t listen to you. Is that your first order?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Her stormy eyes blasted him. They should have been icy, but they weren’t, not at all. The woman had quite the passionate streak.
He was certain she had no idea how much of a turn-on that was, or she’d undoubtedly stop immediately.
“Turn back around,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“Because I’m here. I know I’ve been a little wishy-washy, but that’s over now. I’m going for the adventure. Biking, skiing, whatever you can dish out here in Wyoming, bring it on. I’m letting loose.”
The thought of her letting loose was the first terror he’d felt in a good long time. “Wait a minute—”
“No,” she said quickly, pointing at him. “Don’t talk. Don’t reason. Don’t—” Her gaze dropped, to his mouth, then further still, to his chest, and then below that for long enough to have his body leaping to hopeful attention. She jerked her face back up. Her cheeks pinkened. “Just…” She seemed to struggle for the right words for a moment, and Chance prepared himself to be blistered with a pithy comment.
“Just…drive!” she finished triumphantly, leaning back.
Oh, wasn’t she fierce. He laughed.
She didn’t so much as crack a smile, and once he realized he was truly good and stuck with her, he swallowed his mirth with little difficulty.
He prayed she came to her senses really soon. Or that she’d trip over another garden hose.
3
ALLY WALKED DOWN the hall toward Lucy’s hospital room, butterflies attacking her stomach. Thankfully Chance had stayed in the waiting room. She couldn’t concentrate on visiting with Lucy if he was in the room distracting her, and distract her he most definitely would. Even if he hadn’t been so tall, dark and earth-stoppingly gorgeous, his take-me-as-I-am persona would have attracted her.
Attracted her. Dangerous stuff, made more so by the way just one look from him had her every nerve dancing. Had she learned nothing from her last relationship? Had she forgotten already? Pretty, dangerous men equaled heartache!
Her sandals echoed smartly on the white tile. The stark walls seemed to glare at her, trying to suck away her shaky, burgeoning confidence, so she simply walked faster, refusing to give in.
“Well, get on in here!” Lucy said when Ally stopped at her door. “Let me get a look at you.” She was smiling, with long, wild auburn hair streaked with gray, sweet sparkling green eyes and the most impish smile Ally’d ever seen.
“This can’t be the right room,” Ally said, amazed. “I was expecting suffering. No one looking as good as you could
