Free Scout's Honor by Tara Janzen Page B

dawned on her
as she perused his attractive face and relaxed posture. She had
been mistaken when she’d written off his laid-back style as
nonaggressive. Mitch Summers was as aggressive as they came. He was
just a lot friendlier about it than most people. He was moving in
on her from every angle, at every opportunity, and she liked it,
even if she was unsure of the outcome. She couldn’t remember
another time in her life when a man had stolen kisses so easily, or
when she’d enjoyed them so much.
    It doesn’t mean he’s right for you, she
reminded herself. Physical attraction might be an important part of
a relationship, but it certainly wasn’t enough. As far as she could
tell, it was the only thing they had going for them. Still, it was
an interesting situation, very interesting.
    “So tell me about camping, Mitch. I’ve never
been camping. St. John and I went on safari in Kenya a few years
ago, but we had a cook, guides, tents you could stand up in. I have
a feeling you and the Scouts do it a little differently.”
    “Africa.” The word rolled off his tongue
with a touch of envy. “I’d love to go to Africa . . . Australia . .
. Hong Kong. Lots of places I haven’t been. Is there anyplace you
haven’t been?”
    She thought for a minute. “Hot Sulphur
Springs,” she said with a smile. “I’ve never been to Hot Sulphur
Springs, or Alaska, or Moscow. I guess you could say I’ve never
been to the cold places.”
    “I’ll make a deal with you. You take me to
Africa and I’ll take you to Hot Sulphur Springs. First-class
accommodations, and I’ll do all the cooking. Deal?” He held out his
hand.
    She lifted one finely sculpted brow in a
look of pure skepticism.
    He sweetened the offer. “I’ll even throw in
a bona fide wilderness camping trip, with a tent you absolutely
cannot stand up in.”
    Laughter bubbled up from deep inside as she
grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty shake. “Deal. But first you’d
better tell me about camping. I always like to know what I’m
getting into.”
    “You’ll love it, Anna. You’re a natural-born
camper, I can tell.”
    “Another judgment call?”
    “Yeah.” A grin flashed across his face as he
met her eyes. “You’re going to love camping with me. First you
start with a map, then you pick a mountain or two, preferably with
a trout stream close by, and then you pack your gear. Packing the
gear . . . that’s the important part.”
    He warmed to his subject with an enthusiasm
that enticed her as much as the pictures he wove with words. Vistas
of clear mountain mornings and pine-scented forests came alive for
her in the balmy, Bahamian afternoon. She knew they were teasing
each other, that they would never share a cup of coffee around a
crackling fire, with the darkness closing in, or together hear the
slap of a beaver’s tail on a high mountain pool, but it was a
lovely fantasy and a wonderful way to spend an hour or two.’
    After he’d finally dragged them home with a
creel full of cutthroats, Anna sporting a blister or two from their
days on the trail, she took him to Africa, where the stars shone
the brightest and the Serengeti stretched farther than the eye
could see.
    Halfway up the Never Summer Range in
Colorado, they’d ordered a bottle of Chenin Blanc. As Mitch poured
the last of it into her glass, they walked out of the heat in
Africa, sunburned and tired, and boarded a slow boat to China and
Hong Kong, having decided the fantasy was too good to end.
Unfortunately the waiter had other ideas, such as going home.
    He delivered the check with an authority
that would brook no further delay. Anna and Mitch reached for it
simultaneously, but Anna insisted.
    “Then dinner’s on me,” Mitch countered.
    As they stood up he gathered her in his arms
and hugged her close to his chest. “Halfway around the world and
not a single argument. I knew we’d be good together,” he whispered
in her ear, then gave her the lightest of kisses.
    Sunshine, wine, and