Free Night of the Condor by Sara Craven

trip!

CHAPTER FIVE

     
    By the time they made camp that night, Leigh's smile was wearing a bit thin. She was exhausted, and her right foot was hurting badly enough to prompt her to limp when she knew Rourke wasn't glancing in her direction. She didn't want a campsite. She wanted a hot tub, and a proper bed with clean sheets to collapse into.
    She had suggested tentatively at one point that she might ride the mule, but he had looked at her with icy derision.
    'The mule carries our gear,' he had told her. 'You, lady, carry yourself.
    Oh, I have, Leigh thought wearily, sinking down on to a patch of scrubby grass. And now I want to put myself down.
    'Resting comes later.' Oh God, what now? She rolled over and looked at him, as he stood unloading the mule. 'You look for kindling, while I pitch the tent.'
    'In a moment.' Leigh flexed her toes painfully within the confining boot.
    'Now,' he came back at her grimly, 'that is if you want a warm supper. You're not a luxury passenger on this trip, Miss Frazier, so you do your share of the chores,'
    Leigh stuck her tongue out at him as he turned away. It was childish, but she didn't care. He had given her the hardest time of her life today, not just physically, but mentally too. She had been warm, charming and approachable, bubbling over with questions about the terrain they were crossing, but each and every one of her conversational gambits had been blocked. She felt strongly inclined to say 'To hell with it' and relapse into an identical silence, but she didn't want him to defeat her again. She had vowed to make him squirm, and she would do precisely that, even if her facial muscles were aching almost as much as the rest of her weary body with all this determined jollity.
    She was relieved to find there was plenty of dry wood around, and made the fire economically and efficiently.
    'There you are,' she said, as Rourke came over with the pack of food. 'I'm not as useless as I look.'
    'No one could be,' he said with brutal frankness, and her hands curled into fists. Oh, taking him down a peg or two, or even three, was going to be more than a pleasure!
    Supper was soup, coffee and potatoes baked in the fire, with the last of Maria's bread. Leigh wondered what they would do for food the following day, and guessed that Atayahuanco was probably nearer than Rourke wished her to know.
    She stole a covert look at him under her lashes. His face was brooding as he stared into the flames. He was probably plotting his next move to be rid of her.
    She said dreamily, 'It's a beautiful night. I can't believe how much warmer it is at this altitude.' She stretched sinuously, fully aware that he was looking in her direction, then slowly and deliberately undid another couple of buttons in her shirt. 'It's a pity we're not near water. I would have loved a swim.'
    'I doubt it—unless your taste runs to leaping into snowdrifts.' His voice was curt, and he was frowning as he reached into a pocket and drew out a slim case, extracting a cheroot from it and lighting it.
    Leigh hid a smile. Well, she had never seen him smoke before. A sign of tension, perhaps?
    She sighed elaborately. 'Do you have to be such a realist?'
    'I think one of us needs to be,' he said drily, drawing deeply on the cheroot. 'I don't know which I find harder to take—your view of Atayahuanco as some kind of romantic adventure, or your—er—fiancé's concept of it as an undeserved prison sentence.'
    'And which is nearer the truth?'
    'The truth probably occupies some kind of middle ground.' He gave her a long steady look. 'But if you want to preserve your illusions intact, it would be far better to go home.'
    'Without Evan?' she asked sharply. 'I wouldn't dream of it.'
    'Well, I hope your dream doesn't turn into a nightmare.'
    The conversation, Leigh thought vexedly, hadn't gone at all as she intended.
    She gentled her voice deliberately, inserting a husky note. 'Oh, I wish I could make you understand. Are you married, Doctor