Free Instant Temptation by Jill Shalvis Page A

“We’re going to need it.”

    “Yeah, but I don’t want it right now.” She was still overheated from their kiss. Not him, apparently, because he removed a waterproof shell from his backpack and pulled it on. And damn if he didn’t look good in it, like he could be on the cover of Outside.

    Or the centerfold of a different magazine altogether.

    “Let me hold your stuff while you gear up,” he said.

    “I’m fine for a minute. Here’s where I want to get to tonight”—she said, pointing to the map—“which is where the first malfunctioning camera is set up. I think the best route is this far right trail. You?”

    He leaned over her shoulder to take a look. She could feel the heat and strength of him seeping into her, and she had the oddest urge to press into him, sink against him.

    “This one drops you in right above Mystic Flats.” His arm came around her as he pointed with a long finger. “And this one ends at Big Oak Flats. They’ll both get you there, but yeah, Mystic Flats is the easier way in.”

    She searched that statement for an insult but decided there was none. Even more interesting, he was leaving the decision to her, not taking charge. It defused her, and honestly, also completely charmed her.

    So they took the far right trail and she did her best to keep the pace up, wanting to get there before nightfall.

    At the next burst of thunder and lightning, the drizzle began, the light mist feeling cool and delicious against her heated skin.

    “You want to stop and wait out the storm?” he asked from behind her.

    She knew it was stupid to let herself get wet, but it felt so wonderful. Intoxicating. She turned to shake her head and he pulled off his sunglasses to eyeball her.

    “What?”

    “Nothing,” he said. “I like the look, is all.”

    The look? That’s when she realized she was smiling from ear to ear. It was just that lately she’d been so damn stressed all the time, awake or asleep, and it’d gotten to her. It’d been slowly sucking the energy and life from her.

    But it’d all faded away to nothing when he looked at her like that. “You’re getting wet,” she pointed out.

    “No shit, Harley. It’s raining.”

    She laughed. “I like it out here.”

    His gaze touched over her features, a small smile on his lips. “I know the feeling.”

    Common ground.

    It was unexpected, and like everything else in regard to him, arousing. They just looked at each other, the moment more intense than the kiss they’d shared. She let out a breath, and they started walking again.

    A quarter of a mile later, the skies opened up and dumped on them. Walking became tricky, their feet slipping on the thick carpet of pine needles shedding from the trees all around them. “Here,” TJ said, pulling her under the protection of a tree as the sound of the rain hitting the ground in large, golf ball–size drops deafened them both. They dropped their packs, which felt like a nice relief.

    “It’s a little too late for this,” Harley said wryly.

    “Yeah.” He stood next to her, hands on his hips, watching her from behind those reflective glasses. Shell zipped, hood up, he was completely dry.

    Unlike her, who thanks to her own stupidity, had gotten drenched while being pelted by the big drops.

    She shivered.

    “Harley,” he said on a barely expelled breath. He sounded almost pained.

    Yeah. She knew. In a matter of three seconds, her clothes had plastered themselves to her body. She pressed her spine to the tree, dropping her head to study her muddy shoes. “I might have made a tactical error not putting on a jacket when you did.”

    “Wait here. I want to check out the distance from the cliff.”

    While he was gone, another burst of lightning hit, and then the shuddering boom of thunder so close it rattled the ground beneath her feet. The rain hadn’t let up, and she took a moment to be impressed in a sort of distracted way. Like most things out there in the Sierras,