something else incriminating down here.”
She blew a piece of hair, which had escaped from her ponytail, out of her face. “You don’t have to tell me to keep my eyes open, but I’ll be watching out for guns and red beams instead of someone’s luggage, even if that luggage is lethal.”
“I wonder if we’re close.” Ian adjusted his backpack and squinted into the dense foliage across the river. “That guy back there must’ve had a good reason for trying to take us out.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Meg had seen that look on his face one too many times. She tugged on his arm, which responded like an unmovable granite rock. “You’re not wandering around here with someone taking potshots at you.”
Ian quirked one eyebrow at her. She’d seen that look before, too. In fact, she knew his facial expressions as well as her own, as well as her son’s, which imitated his father’s in a remarkable way.
“You really care about my well-being, Meg-o? A few years ago you would’ve been pushing me out there to explore to my heart’s content.”
She shook her head, her ponytail swinging vigorously from side to side. “I just didn’t want to live with you anymore. I didn’t want you dead.”
“That’s a relief.” He chucked her under the chin and then tramped ahead of her on the trail hugging the mountainside.
Despite the chilly air, her skin burned where he’d touched her with his gloved finger. No wonder she couldn’t get any kind of relationship off the ground. This man still had a place under her skin, and in her heart.
Twigs and leaves snapped and crackled beneath her hiking boots, mimicking the general action of her mind. Maybe if she concentrated on Ian’s mission here in Colorado, instead of analyzing his facial expressions, she’d stop thinking about him in that way. His work had irritated her when they were together, since it seemed as if he’d cared about it and the other Prospero members more than he cared about her. That old shame crept over her again, heating her cheeks at the childish thought.
At the end of one of their arguments, Ian would laugh and tell her that she should’ve married a banker if she wanted sure and steady. Then he’d grab her and kiss her all over until she’d surrender and admit that she didn’t want a banker. Then they’d make love until she’d forgotten her anger completely, sometimes until she’d forgotten her own name.
Shaking her head, she patted her cheek with her gloved hand. The mission. Concentrate on the mission.
Ian glanced over his shoulder. “Are you okay? I’m not going too fast for you, am I?”
She snorted. “This is my terrain, remember? If you knew the area, you wouldn’t have needed Rocky Mountain Adventures to lead you in.”
“Kayla and I should’ve tried hiking in ourselves. Then she might still be alive.” He kicked at a rock in his way and it skittered into the bushes.
“You don’t know that.” She grabbed his belt loop beneath his jacket until he came to a stop in front of her. “I’m sorry about Kayla, but she took the risk and knew the possible consequences.”
“I tried to talk her out of coming along.” Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and nudged at a stone set in the ground with the toe of his hiking boot. “But she wanted to help Jack any way she could.”
“He’s the kind of guy who inspires fierce devotion. That I remember.” Meg also remembered Jack’s intensity, his dark eyes and black hair. Out of all the men on the Prospero team, Jack was the only one without a relationship. Riley had been married to that poor society girl who had died in the bombing of that hotel. Buzz actually managed a relationship with a woman, Raven, who worked with Prospero. And of course she and Ian had struggled through a couple of years of marriage.
Only Jack remained aloof, solo, as if he knew he had a limited time on earth and didn’t want to disappoint a woman with his early departure. Like now. Meg wrapped her arms around her body and shivered.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ian gripped her shoulders and squeezed, trying to infuse some of his palpable strength into her.
She hadn’t always felt safe with Ian emotionally, but the man had a protective streak a mile wide and would risk anything to protect her physically. When they climbed Everest together, he’d rushed to her rescue several times, even when she hadn’t needed his help. Later he admitted he used the whole protective scenario as a ruse to get close to her.
He told her that, and her heart had melted in the middle of a waist-high snowdrift at base camp. Nobody had ever come to her rescue before. She’d always been the strong, resilient type.
She had to be.
“I’m fine.” She lifted her shoulders. “I was just thinking about Jack. Nobody has heard anything from him since he took that hostage negotiation job in Afghanistan?”
“Right.” Ian dropped his hands from her shoulders and passed a hand across his mouth. “The last time I talked to him, I didn’t even know he was going on assignment. He’d just gotten back from Colombia.”
“What drives him?”
Ian shrugged. “The same thing that drove most of us in Prospero. A need to protect. A desire for justice.” He grinned. “The thrill of an adventure.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that last one covered.”
“So do you, Meg.” He cocked his head. “You could have had some cushy job at Daddy’s software company. Why are you out here in the wilderness, leading people up and down mountains?”
Rolling her eyes, she jabbed his solid chest with her index finger. “And now you sound just like him.”
He clutched his chest and staggered back. “Comparing me to Patrick O’Reilly is a cruel blow. Are you two still at each other’s throats?”
“As long as I’m still mucking around out here in the wilderness we are. I never could quite measure up…” Meg straightened her spine and stamped her feet against the wet ground. “We’d better get moving.”
Ian pushed off the rock, grabbed her by the waist and swung her in front of him on the trail. “You lead for a while.”
Long after Ian dropped his hands, Meg felt his touch burning through her multiple layers of clothing. She’d figured, after a few years apart, her automatic responses to the man would’ve died out. No such luck.
She sucked in her lower lip as she trudged along the trail, Ian breathing heavily behind her. She’d have to tell him about Travis. She’d always planned on it, but she’d had a hard time contacting Ian over the years.
Both of his parents had died even before she and Ian had gotten married, not that she’d missed any familial bonding. His parents had been druggies and alcoholics, a couple of losers who’d given up their son years ago. When they’d discovered Ian had made something of himself, they insinuated themselves back into his life. That hadn’t lasted long. Even Ian’s strong desire to reconnect with a mom and dad, any mom and dad, couldn’t override his feelings of disgust for his parents.
Of course, Meg had to deal with the fallout from that experimental family reunion—a husband who never wanted to have children, a husband determined
