The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (20 page)

He moved to sit next to her, a hint of a smile touching his mouth at her satisfied expression. “What was that laugh for?”

The look on Miranda’s face was dreamy. “I was just thinking I should have done that days ago.”

That had not been what he expected to hear from her. He watched her, her breasts pointed up to the skies, her hair pooled back behind her, and in that moment, Dane was truly and utterly caught.

Hell. When he got back to the base camp, he was going to have to tell Colt and Grant that he’d been messing around with one of their new clients.

Because there was no way he was letting Miranda Hill get away from him again. He grinned at the thought. He’d tell them when he got back. They’d understand…eventually.

The little minx glanced over at him, and smiled. “Your pants are still down around your ankles.”

“You’re still naked under your jumpsuit,” he rebutted.

“Mmm, true.” She looked as if she didn’t care. She didn’t move to cover her breasts. “You know, I’ve decided I like the woods,” she said softly.

“And why is that?” Dane hitched his boxers back up around his waist, and then his pants.

“No prying eyes,” she said with a light sigh, as if it were the most blissful thing in the world. “It’s just you and nature. No nosy townspeople.” Her fingers played with a leaf near her head.

He chuckled at the thought. Now she sounded like him. It was the very reason he’d gone off the grid in the wilds of Alaska—he
just wanted to get away from everyone. To never see another city again. People hadn’t understood his decision at the time—they’d assumed he’d go to Hollywood and cash in on his notoriety. It was just another part of Miranda’s appeal that she felt the same way he did. Though it was odd that she had a reason to. “Someone in town giving you a hard time?”

She glanced over at him and the smile slid off of her face, as if she had realized what she just said. Her hands stole to the zipper of her jumpsuit and she quickly zipped it shut, then stood. Her hands pulled leaves out of her tangled hair and she shrugged. “Nah. Just thinking aloud.” With that, she glanced at the trees in the distance. “I think I’m going to go find my clothes. See you later, Dane.”

With a casual wave, she turned and left him, stopping only to swoop over and pick up her paintball gun from where she’d dropped it.

He was oddly tempted to follow her. But instead, he turned and picked up his paintball gun, put on his helmet, and hoped it covered the satisfied smile on his face.

Miranda flopped to the ground once she found her clothes and just breathed for a few minutes, determined not to let panic sink in.

Dear lord, what the hell was she doing?

It had all seemed like such a brilliant plan. Find Dane, flirt with him. Flash him a little cleavage. Taste that big cock—to please herself—and then leave him wanting more. But she’d been an idiot and started yapping about town and privacy of all things,
and hell, why didn’t she just confess her entire plan to him right then and there?

She put a hand to her forehead and rubbed. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. She’d let things get carried away, and then she’d been so hot and bothered and content afterward that she’d just started spouting all kinds of crap.

Good Miranda needed to back the hell off and let Evil Miranda stay in charge. Evil Miranda would have just sucked his dick, winked at him, and left. Good Miranda had to have her cuddle time and let him see the vulnerable side of her.

Good Miranda was an idiot.

She didn’t regret pleasuring Dane—it had been far too enjoyable. What she regretted now was that she was losing control of herself. This was supposed to be
her
revenge. And while she was twisting Dane around her finger…she found herself enjoying his kisses and his touch far too much. She could still taste him in her mouth, still feel his hands on her body.

When had she started to like spending time with him? When did the revenge lose its focus in exchange for the next orgasm?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Good Miranda kept going on about her
feeeeelings
. Feelings only got in the way of things. Frowning to herself, Miranda pulled out her panties and resolved that from now on, she was going to stay in control. Emotionless flirting and a teasing fuck or two in the woods. She needed to keep him off guard. Most of all, she needed to keep in control. She wouldn’t let herself lose control of the situation again.

Because apparently she couldn’t be trusted around the man. He touched her and she just lost all sense of reality.

And that couldn’t keep happening.

* * *

The afternoon of paintball did a lot to distract Miranda from her worries. There was something incredibly cathartic about shooting a man, which probably said a lot about more about her mind-set than it should have. To her surprise, their team won the afternoon—despite the fact that both she and Dane had been distracted for a good while. George had been a superb leader and a terrific paintball player, and his skills and enthusiasm had pushed them over the top, though it had been close.

The special prize had indeed been a nice campsite. There was a tiny cabin in the woods with two sets of bunk beds and extra blankets. It was situated next to a well, and the only roughing that was required was cooking and eating the steaks that had been left for them. The team was in high spirits, and no one even pointed out that this wasn’t much of a survival skill. No one cared.

They had a nice, quiet evening—it was Steve’s turn to set up the fire and she helped the others collect wood while George and Pete went to set up a new trapline.

Dane had gone back to treating her like one of the guys, but it was Miranda who put a little distance between them. She’d been opening up to him too much. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking or how she felt—he just wanted his next roll in the hay. It was time to take a breather on the chatty stuff and just seduce the man when she needed to. So she stayed on the far side of camp and kept to herself. Dane didn’t seem too thrilled at that, but it was nice to have the tables turned at least.

That evening, they drew straws for cots, and Will, Jamie, and Dane ended up sleeping on the ground. Miranda got a top bunk
and slept warm and cozy for the first time that week. So the bunk smelled a little stale—didn’t matter. She was happy to have her own bed, even though she was unable to sleep. In the middle of the night, she leaned over the edge and glanced below. Sure enough, Dane was down there, looking at her. He grinned and pointed for the door, a wordless question.

Her body quivered with need at the thought, but she forced herself to shake her head and roll back on the mattress and go back to sleep.

She was going to call the shots around here, even if she wanted to give in.

And right now, she really,
really
wanted to give in.

Morning dawned, and that day was Miranda’s turn to learn foraging from the designated subject matter expert. Jamie was their forager for the week, and that suited her just fine. She wanted nothing more than to get away from camp for a few hours and clear her head. But Jamie had left early that morning to learn traplines, and now she sat at camp drumming her fingers.

Nearby, Dane sat making more knots in some rope for Pete. He’d shown the poor gamer CEO the same knots every day that week, and every day, Pete needed to be shown again. Dane didn’t lose his temper, but she was pretty sure he was getting sick of Pete. The man was lazy around camp, whined, and took every opportunity available to tell them how much money he was making at his company. No one liked him.

“You know, Miranda, I can show you how to forage,” Dane offered with a casual sideways glance. “I’d be more than happy
to take you out and show you if the others aren’t going to be back for a while.”

She could just bet how that would go. As soon as Dane left the campsite, she’d become entranced by the flex of his muscles as he bent over to pick up something and then she’d throw him down on the ground and hump him with abandon. Flushing at the thought, she shook her head. “That’s okay, thanks.”

Pete seemed to wake up at that. He stood up and brushed off his shorts, drawing attention to his pale, bony legs. “Miranda, if you want, I can show you fishing. You still need to learn that, right?”

This made Dane frown, and he gave Miranda an imperceptible shake of his head.

Well, she loved driving the man crazy by doing the unexpected. She stood. “That sounds lovely, Pete. Thank you. Let me just change into some shorts.”

She did, and they set off into the woods, Dane giving her an odd look as they left. He looked as if he wanted to talk to her. She decided she’d let him stew for a bit instead.

After all, she’d been stewing all night and she was horny. Angry and horny—it was a terrible combination. She would be strong, though, and not give in to his sexy smile and tight ass. Damn Dane for thinking he could snap his fingers and she’d be on all fours, ready and willing. Of course, that mental image didn’t help her libido, and she gave a sigh.

The stream wasn’t too far away—thanks to the better campsite—and she took the line that Pete offered her. He showed her how to set up the hook he’d created from crudely carved wood and how to string a dead grasshopper on it. There wasn’t much
more to it than tossing the line in and watching the piece of wood (tied to the string to form a makeshift float) bob on the surface.

It was a soothing sort of task, with nothing more to do than occasionally tug on her line to see how things were coming. Pete was chatty but she wasn’t all that interested.

It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon—peaceful and quiet after living in close quarters with six men for the past few days. Best of all, it allowed her to get away from Dane for a few hours and clear her mind. It definitely could use some clearing. Right now she was feeling so lost about him that she didn’t know what to think.

“How’s the fishing coming?” Pete said a while later, wading over in the water to get closer to her.

His question broke her nice quiet reverie. So much for relaxing. “It’s fine. No bites just yet.” And there wouldn’t be if he kept wading around close to where her bobber floated. “Let’s just give it some time.”

He moved to stand next to her and threw his line out again, crossing over hers.

She flashed him an irritated look, but said nothing, simply moved out of the way and dragged her line over a few feet. Was the man not even good at fishing? Wasn’t fishing hard to screw up?

“So…Miranda,” Pete said when she’d gotten her line resettled. “How are you enjoying being out here in the wild with nothing but a bunch of big, sweaty men?”

Her hackles went up. It could have been a perfectly innocent question, but the way he phrased it made her think otherwise. “Trip’s going just fine,” she said tersely.

He nodded. “Good, good.” There was a moment of silence, and then he looked over at her again, the smarmy grin on his face. “Any particular man you have your eye on?”

She immediately rounded on him in irritation. “Where is this going, Pete?”

The look he gave her was innocent. “I’m not sure what you mean, Miranda. I was just asking if you had a favorite guy you liked hanging out with this week. That’s all.”

What did he think he knew about her and Dane? Miranda’s eyes narrowed at the gamer CEO. “What makes you think I have a favorite out here?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He said casually, trailing his fingers through the water and making little circles that were certain to scare away any remaining fish. “You seem like the type who wouldn’t mind a strong, attractive man at your side to make you feel beautiful and shower you with attention. To see to your every need…”

She stiffened. Had he seen her and Dane in the woods?

“… and I think you’re the type that might appreciate the perks that come with dating a CEO.” He paused and gave her an expectant look.

Blank, Miranda stared at him, trying to piece together his thoughts. Was Dane a CEO of something? The only CEO this week was…Oh. She began to laugh with relief as she realized just who he was referring to.

At her laugh, Pete scowled. “What’s so funny about this?”

She tried to smother the laugh behind her hand, but a bubble still escaped her. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s not funny. It just wasn’t what I expected, that’s all.”

His look became cunning. “Maybe you expected me to mention Dane? I see the way you’re slobbering after him.”

That quieted her laughter. “I’m not slobbering after anyone, you jackass.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t think I haven’t seen you snuggling up to Dane every chance you get. You follow him around like a puppy and hang on his every word. It’s pretty obvious that you have a thing for him.”

That was sobering. Did everyone think she had a thing for him? And here she thought she’d been so very sly and clever this week, so very careful to only let Dane see what she was offering. Her hand went to her collar anxiously.

Now that Pete had his feelings hurt, he seemed to be on a bit of a rampage. “If you think you have any hope of scoring time with our instructor just because he’s some big shot hockey player, I’m here to disabuse you of that notion,” he said, curling his lip at her. “I asked Dane flat out if he was interested in you. If he was going to pursue you. And do you know what he said?”

Her entire body froze. Somehow, it had become very important for her to hear the words. “What did he say?” Her voice sounded incredibly calm despite the hammering of her heart.

“He said that I was welcome to you. That he wasn’t interested in you. So there.”

Miranda turned her gaze back to her fishing line, watching the stick bob back and forth, and not really caring if anything was biting on the other end. Of course Dane had said that, if confronted. Why wouldn’t he? And yet…had he really said that Pete was welcome to her? Seriously? That stung.

As if realizing that he’d gone too far over the line, Pete moved
forward and put his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. “Hey, Miranda, I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to make you realize that you could do better than that cocky dickhead.”