She felt a bit dismayed at the sight of him. Why couldn’t he have been more torn-up looking? Why couldn’t his face be covered with hockey injuries, his nose broken beyond all hope, and his cheekbones crushed like a boxer’s? Why did he have to have those scars that made him look so damn…delicious?
All the better to seduce him,
Evil Miranda whispered in her ear.
Hm. Evil Miranda definitely had a point. This was all about seduction, and it’d be a lot easier to seduce a man when he was easy on the eyes. Heck, if he was easy on the eyes, it’d make it a pleasure for her to seduce him, rather than a chore. She could be down with that.
Dane turned to say something to Brenna, and Miranda’s gaze slid to his tight ass, outlined in his camo shorts. Definitely easy on the eyes, all right. She felt a little hot and breathless just looking at the way his hips narrowed.
He turned and his gaze flicked to Miranda, catching her staring at his ass. A blush crossed her face and then she winked at him. To her vast delight, that seemed to fluster him even more, as if he hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from her. Evil Miranda was delighted with that response.
Right then, she decided to let Evil Miranda take the reins this week.
“Welcome, everyone, to your week of survival training,” Dane said in a low voice that made her thighs quiver. Heat flared,
settling low in her hips. “For the next week, you’re going to learn how to live out in the wild on your own. It’s not going to be easy. You’ll be sleeping on the ground, catching your own food, and learning the best ways to move about in the bush. We’re going to have a team challenge against the blue team, and at the end of the week, you’re going to have to survive on your own for a day using the training I give you. Understand?”
Survive on her own for a day? Did that mean she wouldn’t be spending the full week with Dane? She hid her frown. Okay, then,
six
days to seduce the man and get naked photos of him. She could handle six days.
Evil Miranda would just have to work a little faster.
“The land we’re going to be surviving on is the private property of the Daughtry Ranch. You’re surrounded by ten thousand acres of nothing but trees and wildlife. We own this ranch, so anything you can bring down to serve as food, do so. No sport killing—this is to teach you how to survive, understand?”
He cast a stern glare over the group, arms crossed over his chest.
No one moved.
“Now,” he declared, “we’re all going to empty our packs and I’m going to make sure you’re not smuggling in anything to make this easier on you. Our instructions said to bring a utility knife”—he ticked the words off on his fingers—“a change of clothes, extra socks, and three Ziploc bags. Nothing else.”
Miranda stiffened, her hands tightening on the straps of her backpack. She was going to have to show the contents of her bag? Oh crap. This could be awkward. Or embarrassing. Or both.
As she hesitated, Dane smiled at the first person in their small
line, took his backpack, and upended it on the ground. She groaned inwardly as the man’s gear came spilling out and Dane began to pick through it. “Not allowed,” he said, pushing aside the first item. “Not allowed, not allowed.”
Oh yes. This was definitely going to be bad. She watched as the man—Will, she thought his name was—stiffened and looked as if he were about to mutiny before the class even started.
Assistant Brenna was right at Dane’s side, taking the beef jerky, cell phone, and travel thermal blanket pouch that were handed to her. “You’ll get this stuff back when the class is done,” she said in a take-no-arguments kind of voice. “Not a moment sooner.”
“I need that phone. My company is securing a deal this week—”
“I’m sorry, did you want to remove yourself from the class?” Brenna said with a cheerful, innocent smile, waving the phone in front of his face. “Because if so, I’d be happy to refund you the tuition—minus your deposit, of course.”
“No, ma’am,” Will said in a resigned voice. He gave the phone a last longing look and then sighed, stepping back into line.
Dane smiled and clapped the man on the back, leaning in and murmuring a few words of encouragement that Miranda couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, it had the desired effect—Will perked up again and gave Dane a rueful smile.
He’d always been good at charming people. The prick. Even so, she squirmed a little, imagining him leaning in and telling her that she’d been a naughty girl. Even just standing in line, she was getting turned on by Dane’s presence.
Evil Miranda was going to have a field day this week.
Miranda’s nerves grew taut, her grip on her backpack tight as Dane went down the line. A few people grimaced and gave up their contraband—emergency flashlights, granola bars, another cell phone—and Pete had seemed extremely put out to relinquish bug spray. Still, he did so, falling prey to Dane’s easy charm even as Brenna snatched the contraband from him.
And then Dane was standing in front of her. She swallowed hard as he put his hand out. “Well, uh,” she said, stalling. “How about I promise you that I don’t have any contraband and we’ll call it even?”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his friendly smile curving into a frown. “Is there a particular reason why you don’t want me to check your bag, Ms.…”
Miranda gave him a smile. “You know who I am.”
“Nine years ago I did,” he admitted. “A lot happens in nine years.”
“It’s still Hill. No marriage, no divorce.” She wondered if he would think that was a good thing or a bad thing. And before he could respond, she offered, “And I’ll show you my bag, but it has to be in private. You know. Because of girl stuff.”
That scarred eyebrow went sky-high. He looked down at her for a long moment, and Miranda kept a casual smile on her face, though her skin was prickling from nervousness. If he dumped her bag out on the grass in front of everyone…well, it was going to be a
really
long week.
“All right,” he agreed after a long, tense moment. “Let’s go behind that tree and you can show me.”
She nodded and headed in that direction, feeling a wild sense of relief. No public humiliation. That was good.
They moved behind a large juniper tree, the bushy spread of branches allowing for privacy. Dane gave her a speculative look as they paused, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, what’s this about?”
“What makes you think this is about something?” She opened her eyes wide, feigning innocence.
He arched an eyebrow. “Because this all seems a little coincidental, don’t you think? My ex-girlfriend from high school shows up for my first survival class, and she’s just as beautiful as I remembered?”
Her nipples hardened at the husky, almost teasing tone of his voice, and she placed a hand on the tree behind her, steadying herself.
Down, girl.
She felt conflicted, staring up into his rugged face. Was it possible to still be insanely attracted to the man even if she hated him? She’d only been around him for five minutes and already her body was perking up in response. So he thought she was beautiful? “This isn’t a setup. I assure you.”
At least, it wasn’t in the way he thought it was.
He gave her an “I’m waiting” look and didn’t budge from his spot in front of her. “It doesn’t explain why you won’t let me see what’s inside your bag.”
Ah yes. That answered it. She
could
be physically attracted to a man and still want to kick him in the balls.
Mentally steeling herself to put her plan into action, she shrugged the bag off her shoulder and then held it out to him. “Here you go.”
Like the others, Dane took her pack, unzipped the top, and then dumped the contents onto the ground.
Lingerie fluttered to the grass: red silk bras, black lace thongs,
and a pair of pink silk panties—her favorite—with a ruffle across the derriere. On top of it all lay her camera.
He stared down at the mix for a long moment, and then looked back at her, astonished. “What’s all this?”
“Survival gear,” Miranda said, her voice slightly husky with nervousness. She forced herself to step forward, her body trembling with nervousness, and laid a hand on his chest. Oh my. A really, really defined pectoral. That was new, and very welcome. Her mouth went dry and she glanced up at him, where he stood stock-still, looming over her. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “All those panties are terribly essential to my survival this week.”
His body tensed under her hand, and she waited. Waited for him to push her away and scowl in her direction, all business…or for him to respond to her touch.
Dane looked down at her hand, small on his chest. Then he looked back at her, his expression inscrutable. His voice was low. “What’s going on, Miranda?”
This was her moment. She knotted her fingers in his shirt and tugged him forward, and was gratified to see that he let himself be pulled forward. Her breasts bounced against his rock-hard chest and she felt a thrill of excitement, a spurt of adrenaline, and a heady rush of desire. She tilted her head back and looked up at him, her gaze sliding to his mouth. “We never slept together nine years ago, Dane Croft. Do you remember? You were supposed to take my virginity and you were a no-show.”
“I remember lots of things about you, Miranda Hill,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Miranda Hill,” he said, repeating her name. “No marriage, no divorce. Just Miranda Hill.”
Her toes curled and she pulled him a little closer. His mouth
was now so close to hers that his breath fanned against her cheek, warm and sweet. “I heard you were back in town,” she whispered, and she could smell the wonderful, crisp scent of him—all man and musk and just a hint of sweat and fresh outdoors. “And I wanted to see if maybe we could pick up where we left off, and see how that works out.”
Then she deliberately licked her lips, her mouth so close to his that her tongue grazed his lips.
He groaned and moved forward—just an inch or two, but enough that his mouth brushed hers, and she felt his tongue brush against her own. Her lips parted and she welcomed the caress. When his tongue dipped into her mouth and thrust, she felt it all the way to her core, and her sex began to pulse with desire. Her lips parted wider, and her tongue met his next thrust, tangling with his.
He still kissed as well as she remembered. Better, she thought as he stroked against her tongue in a move that made her nerves thrill and her pussy clench.
Someone in the distance coughed, and Dane froze against her. She stroked her tongue along his lips, determined to win the contest of wills, and was rewarded when he pulled away from her grasp, dazed. “What’s the matter, Dane?” Her voice was soft, playful. “Or is it time for the strip search?”
He pulled her hand off his chest and glanced over back through the trees, where the others still waited for them. Dane swore lightly under his breath and raked a hand over his crisp skullcap of hair. Then he knelt and pocketed her camera and began to stuff panties back into her bag, scowling. “This week isn’t about hooking up, Miranda.”
Says you
, she thought, but said nothing. That merest brush of a kiss had inspired her. Nine years ago, she’d never gotten to hook up with Dane, and she thought she’d use this week to torment him, drive him mad with lust, and then get the pictures she wanted. But now that he’d pocketed her camera, she had a new idea…one that involved a side benefit for her.
She’d always wanted to sleep with Dane. At least, when she was younger, she’d wanted it. He’d been the only man who had ever been able to bring her to an orgasm—and they hadn’t even slept together. After he hadn’t shown up to take her virginity and the photos went online, she’d grown a bit of a hang-up about sex. She’d lost her virginity to the first nonlocal boy she’d dated, just because it wouldn’t get around town. That had been an awkward, embarrassing situation for them both. Her relationships after that hadn’t gotten much better. She’d bed-hopped between several men during her college years, all equally unable to get her to the point at which her brain would turn off and she could relax and orgasm. She
couldn’t
relax, couldn’t come, couldn’t enjoy the moment, and every relationship of hers usually ended a night or two after sex was introduced.
After a while, she’d given up on dating, sure that her issues with Dane and her mother’s issues with men had permanently ruined any chance of a normal relationship. She’d stopped dating…and had bought a vibrator instead.
But just being in Dane’s presence already had her turned on more than any man she’d been near in years. And she remembered that the time she and Dane had been petting in the closet, she’d come hard and come fast.
She wondered if she could do it again—have an orgasm with
a man. It shouldn’t be hard, but it seemed that every woman on earth could manage one but her. Maybe she just needed the right man to experiment on, even if it was Dane Croft, her most hated enemy. This week was the perfect time to find out, she thought as she gave him another predatory look.
He finished stuffing the last of the clothing back into her bag and patted his pocket with her camera. All right, her plans would have to change a little. Seduce and fuck the man this week. Have fun. Use him for sex—and, hopefully, orgasms. Then, when the week was over, she’d invite him back to her place and take the pictures then.
That still worked. She smiled wickedly. Evil Miranda approved of using men.
Dane scowled and shoved the bag back into her hands. “The memo said for clothing you can live in for the next few days. That means hike, eat, sleep, and possibly swim in your clothing.”
Evil Miranda came out to play again. She leaned forward and trailed a finger down the front of Dane’s chest. “I can hike, sleep, and swim in my lacy panties,” she said, her voice a low purr. “But eating in my lacy panties? That’s going to have to be left to you.”
Then she licked her lips and smiled seductively at him.
Dane swore under his breath again, and then bolted back for the others, adjusting himself as he did.
Evil Miranda, one; Dane, zero.
W