Lost in You (2 page)

Lacy concentrated on the gentle way his callused fingers slid over her skin and not the idea of poison flowing just below the surface.
 

He turned her foot, fingers circling her ankle. “Nothing. Good. Next leg.”
 

She remained immobile through the same procedure on the other calf, although his hands caressing her body made her skin tingle.
 

Finally, he eased her from his lap.
 

“You were lucky. Doesn’t appear to be a bite mark. You feel okay?”
 

Relief soared through her. “If it had sunk its nasty fangs into me?”
 

He tenderly brushed a strand of hair from her tear-stained cheek. “I carry a snakebite kit in my pack, just in case.”
 

“Bet you were an awesome Boy Scout.”
 

Becker actually flashed a half-smile. “I’ve never been a Boy Scout.”
 

Whoo-ee. That could be taken the wrong way. Smiling, gentle Becker was far more dangerous than surly Becker.
 

Maybe the rest of the hike wouldn’t be so bad now that they’d come to a truce.
 

“So you killed the varmint, huh? With your bare hands?”
 

“Nah. Chopped it in half with a shovel. Want to see?”
 

“Sure.”
 

Lacy stood frozen in place, horrified by what lay next to her dirty backpack. Her stomach roiled, but not at the sight of a potential snakeskin purse in its rawest form.
 

No. She was sickened by the chunks of metal and broken glass that used to be a compass—a compass she’d accidentally pulverized during her impromptu snake dance.
 

Damn.
 

Her stunned gaze caught his.
 

She decided a snakebite might’ve been preferable to the venomous gleam in Becker’s eye.
 

Chapter Two
 

Sam Becker stared at the broken compass.
 

 
I could kill her. Wrap my hands around her lovely sunburned neck and squeeze until her cynical blue eyes popped out of her beautiful head.
 

No one would find her body. Hell, since they were for all intents and purposes lost in the Bighorn Mountains, there was a good chance they’d never find his body either.
 

He shoved aside his murderous impulse and jerked the chain holding the powdered compass. Spun on his boot heel and stalked to the other side of the log to consider their options. Although he felt her questioning gaze burning his neck like a laser beam, she managed to keep her smart mouth shut for a change.
 

The sun beat down. The air was calm and hot without a breath of wind. Even the absence of buzzing insects seemed to mock their predicament.
 

No way around it. They were seriously screwed.
 

On a gut level he knew his cousin, Dave Hawk, wouldn’t wait for them at base camp beyond a few hours, but he wouldn’t immediately send out a search party. Their fledgling business had too much riding on the hike to spook other clients. Besides, Dave had told everyone Becker was a partner in Back to Nature Guided Tours.
 

Problem was, Dave was the experienced backwoods guide, not Becker. Becker was merely the moneyman. He’d taken the summer off from his financial firm in New York City to reevaluate his life and help Dave build databases. He never dreamed he’d have to fill in as an actual employee.
 

Without a compass, and mired in one mountain pass that looked like every other, they’d be hard-pressed to find their way back to base camp before tomorrow. He’d be damn lucky to find a way out
at all
.
 

So there he was, lost in the woods with a babe who was pure temptation; silky blond hair, blue eyes clear as the summer sky, long legs attached to a perfectly pear-shaped ass…and a tongue sharper than his bowie knife. He’d known Lacy Buchanan was a wild card before she opened her lush pink lips.
 

Becker had to buck up. Like it or not, she was now his responsibility—even if it was her fault they were up the proverbial creek.
 

He might be a novice trail guide, but
she
didn’t know that. Somehow he’d get them back, even if they had to march all night. He grinned. She ought to just love that, especially wearing those stupid red boots.
 

“Can you fix it?” she asked anxiously.
 

“No.”
 

“So what are we gonna do?”
 

Becker pointed at the watch on her right wrist. “Don’t suppose that has a compass?”
 

“Nope.” She peered at the neon blue face. “But it is waterproof to 300 hundred feet.”
 

He snorted. “Like that’ll do us any good in the middle of Wyoming.”
 

Pink tinged her cheekbones. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to stomp on your compass. I sort of panicked.”
 

“
Sort of
?”
 

She blew out a frustrated breath. “Okay, I totally panicked. I’m sure that never happens to
you
.”
 

Becker cocked his head, studying her coolly. “I take it you don’t like snakes?”
 

She shuddered. “No.”
 

“Well, get over it, cupcake, ’cause it’s what we’re having for supper.”
 

“You can’t be serious!”
 

“I am. Unless you’ve got a couple of rib-eye steaks hidden in your backpack?”
 

Lacy shook her head.
 

He smirked. “Didn’t think so.”
 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not eating rattlesnake. Because I-I”—
Come on, think of something or you’ll be picking scales out of your teeth—
“Because I’m a vegetarian!”
 

“Since when?”
 

Since about five seconds ago, but
he
wouldn’t know that.
 

When she stayed quiet, he threw back his head and laughed. A deep, rich, warm sound in direct conflict with his brusque demeanor. A sexy timbre that made her stomach swoop.
 

“Nice try. But I saw you eating jerky on the trail yesterday. I know they don’t make the stuff out of tofu.”
 

Why had he been watching her wolf down a package of dried buffalo meat instead of watching the trail markers?
 

No wonder they’d gotten lost.
 

“I’ll bet if some fancy restaurant offered you snake as the evening special you’d order it without hesitation.”
 

“That’s different.”
 

“How so?”
 

“Because I don’t eat something that tries to bite me first!”
 

Becker shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you don’t eat it, I don’t want to hear you whining that you’re hungry later on.”
 

Of course, her stomach chose that exact second to growl.
 

He picked up the shovel, muttering, “Chicken” under his breath, but loud enough she heard him.
 

Lacy demanded, “What did you say?”
 

“It’ll probably taste just like chicken.” His cool brown eyes dared her to contradict him.
 

An enormous black buzzard landed on the log, cawing loudly. Beady eyes zeroed in on the snake carcass.
 

“Go find your own dinner, scavenger,” Becker said, chasing the bird away. He tossed a smug look over his broad shoulder. “You too, cupcake.”
 

Right then Lacy knew she’d
have
to eat the snake. Even if it gagged her. Even if it killed her. Better to embrace the idea now, rather than having to…well,
eat crow
later and admit he’d been right.
 

Before she lost her nerve, she picked up the tail end of the snake.
 

Eww. It was still warm. “How are you going to cook it?”
 

Did Becker suddenly look a little green?
 

“Can’t sauté it in a white wine and cream sauce, now, can I?” He chopped off the head, picking up the leftover chunk. “We’ll roast it like a hot dog. Let’s go. Gotta log a few more miles before dark.”
 

“What am I supposed to do with this?”
 

“Carry it. The rattle might scare off other snakes.”
 

“
Other
snakes?”
 

Becker smiled before he shouldered his pack and started down the trail.
 

Insufferable jerk. She had no choice but to play follow-the-leader.
 

Every once in awhile she rattled the snake tail, just to be safe.

Hours later, Lacy’s feet were sore, blistered and probably bleeding.
 

Her back ached and she still clutched a dead reptile.
 

She groaned. “I can’t move another step.”
 

Becker stopped and stretched. “Fine. We’ll take a break.”
 

“
You
can take a break. I’m done for today.”
 

She lifted her face to the breeze, listening to the birdsong and the faint sound of water trickling nearby. With the mountains rising all around them, this remote area was one of the most magnificent places she’d ever seen. “This is breathtaking.”
 

“I’ll say.”
 

Becker wasn’t looking at the scenery, but at her.
 

Oh man. He flustered her with one look. What would happen if he actually touched her? She’d probably erupt like Old Faithful.
 

She refocused on their surroundings.
 

They’d left the jagged cliffs behind and hiked into a deep canyon. Pine trees grew on a steep incline towering to reach the periwinkle sky. To the right, a small clearing packed with tall, pale green grass eventually sloped up into another craggy hill. It wasn’t the flower-filled meadow she’d expected, but it was stunning.
 

“We’ll make camp here. It’s almost dusk anyway. You’d better gather some stuff to burn for the fire tonight before you get too comfy.”
 

“Fine. What are you going to be doing?”
 

“Skinning the snake. Of course, if you’d rather do it, I’ve got no problem trading jobs.”
 

Lacy shuddered. “No thanks.” She handed him the limp remains and trudged toward the trees, cursing her swollen feet.
 

“Don’t go far,” he called. “I don’t want to spend the rest of the night wondering if you’ve become a mountain lion snack.”
 

“Bite me, Pecker.”
 

His soft laughter echoed around her. Seemed the acoustics in the canyon were better than a microphone. Or Mr. Nature had the hearing of a bat.
 

Or Becker was more focused on her than she realized.
 

A shiver ran through her, not one of revulsion.
 

Half an hour later Lacy proudly eyed the pile of pinecones, twigs and decayed logs she’d gathered. In the flattest spot, Becker had lined rocks in a circle and dug a shallow fire pit.
 

Home sweet home.
 

But Becker was nowhere to be seen.
 

She wiped the sweat and dirt from her forehead with the back of her hand. Ick. Snake germs. She crossed the meadow toward the tinkling sound of water. She stumbled over a tree root and her tongue when she saw a shirtless Becker standing in the stream.
 

Lacy quickly ducked behind a clump of bushes and gawked.
 

His wide, muscled shoulders were tanned golden brown. Rivulets of water trailed his nicely defined pecs and followed the lines of his six-pack, disappearing into the waistband of the wet cargo shorts that hung dangerously low on his lean hips.