Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1 (21 page)

Jada patted her on the head. “It’s really important you get this, isn’t it?”

Kate spread her arms helplessly. “Of course it is! What else would all this be about?”

Jada didn’t respond right away. Instead, she pursed her lips thoughtfully, looking her over with more interest than Kate cared for. “What else?” Jada finally echoed before snapping her attention back to the field.

“I’m going to work,” Kate announced with a resigned sigh. “I’ll be back around three. Which one of you is staying here today?”

Anne spoke up. “I am. For a while at least. I might have one of the other JARRS ladies come by for a few hours so I can shower. You’d be surprised how many volunteered. They’re all on board with this, you know. The spot is perfect.”

“So you don’t think I should give in?”

All three of them turned to look across the field, where Michael was preparing to take a turn with the caber. Julian had said it wasn’t an event he himself participated in but that Michael was one of the best in the country.

“Give in?” Anne gave a gusty sigh and watched as Michael jumped up and down, stretching his arms and legs to prepare them for the throw. Well aware that the women were up and watching, he even took his shirt off, his muscles dancing in an oddly burlesque parody.

“No way, Kate. No freaking way.”

Kate expected to be greeted by a sea of faces when she got back to the camp early that afternoon. Disappointment niggled at her stomach when it turned out no one was there. She really wanted a friendly face.

Work had been particularly grueling that morning since they were reshelving the nonfiction section, and her entire body had screamed in protest each time she lifted anything heavier than a mass market paperback. It seemed her muscles were unable to distinguish between sleeping on the ground and running a marathon, and she’d been looking forward to a little commiseration from her fellow campers.

“Hello?” she called, peeking inside the tent.

There wasn’t anything to indicate a hasty retreat or sneak enemy attack, so Kate relaxed. The unspoken rules—that someone must remain on site at all times—didn’t count if campers from both sides were missing.

“Is anybody here?” she tried again, looking around and shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. A few shouts of laughter from the other side of the park rang out. Kate couldn’t see over there unless she went around the parking lot or through Julian’s secret wooded path, but she noticed the box containing the volleyball net was missing. They’d probably set it up in the sandy patch over there—she remembered them having a serious discussion last night regarding the merits of women in small shorts and shirtless men jumping around together in the dirt.

“It’s too bad we can’t play a game to determine the winner,” she muttered, picking up the empty box and tossing it with the rest of the supplies. “It’d be a great way to get all this over with.” Except she doubted there was a game on the planet Julian couldn’t win, unless it was something like chess or Scrabble. She was excellent at Scrabble.

The campers had been smart enough not to leave a fire burning in either the pit or the hot tub warmer when they left to go play, but the water in the tub was still pretty inviting. Kate trailed her fingers in the water, sending a pattern of ripples from one end to the other. It would be like a hot bath. Relaxing. Soothing. Not the least bit private, but there were some sacrifices to be made in the great outdoors, after all.

She changed into her swimming suit, a red-and-white polka dot, high-waisted bikini, and lowered herself into the water until it skimmed the tops of her shoulders. It was heavenly and exactly what she needed. She closed her eyes, leaned back and let the buoyancy take care of her troubles for a while.

“Next to leaving your tent door open all night, falling asleep in several feet of water must be the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard of.”

Kate’s eyes sprang open to find Julian looking down at her. She sat up with a start, water splashing all over the sides of the tub and onto Julian’s white T-shirt. He didn’t back up right away, and the wet patch spread, allowing Kate to see the perfectly rigid form of his abdominal muscles underneath.

Julian cleared his throat, forcing Kate’s still-groggy mind to focus somewhere else. The sky. That was a safe place to look. She blinked at it once or twice before realizing Julian was right—the sun was considerably lower than when she’d first gotten in the tub. Still, there was no way she’d been asleep for longer than ten minutes. Tops.

“I’m pretty sure I’d wake up the moment I slipped under and stopped being able to breathe,” she scoffed.

“I’m not arguing that,” he said with a laugh. “But you look like a lobster that’s been boiled alive.”

Kate jumped to her feet, the water sluicing down as she looked over her body, horror quickly taking hold. Shoulders, arms and the generous display of cleavage the swimsuit offered were bright red, and she realized she radiated with a heat that had nothing to do with the warmth of the water or Julian’s proximity. She pulled at one of the straps on her suit and peered underneath. The line between white happy normal skin and bright red damaged skin was perfectly straight and painfully obvious. Her face was tight too, and she could see the tip of her nose throbbing like Rudolph’s.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Julian said. He didn’t sound the least bit sympathetic. “You should put sunscreen on before you go out in the sun.”

“I know that,” Kate said through her teeth.

“And you’re certainly not going to win over my men if you walk around looking like a mangled piece of meat. I don’t care how small your swimsuit is.”

“It’s not small!”

Julian looked her over, shaking his head sadly. “Yes, it is. Practically nonexistent. I think the sun’s gone to your head. Maybe you should call it quits before you lose a leg or get cancer or something.”

“I’m fine,” Kate managed.

But she wasn’t. She kept her teeth clenched to avoid any muscle relaxation in her face, a dam against the swirling mass of tears building up. It wasn’t the pain—of course she’d been sunburned before—so much as the humiliation. Of all the people who had to find her like this, it was Julian. Perfect outdoorsman Julian, who cared about her only as the woman who was derailing all his plans.

Her face began to fall.

“No. No way. Don’t you dare cry.” Julian took a step back, his hands upraised.

“I’m. Not. Going. To.” Her breath shuddered with each word, and they both knew very well that was where she was headed.

She wished he would go away. Her clothes, her shoes, her dedication to the JARRS group—they were a testament to her love of all things feminine. She liked feeling gentle and light and in control of the way she presented herself to the world. But that didn’t mean she was weak. That didn’t mean she broke down in tears because she wanted to.

“Shit. Yes, you are.”

And suddenly, his arms were around her.

He held her lightly, with a gentlemanly attention to the placement of his arms. One wound around her waist and the other cupped the back of her head, cradling her against him with an alarming degree of tenderness. She was still wet from the hot tub, her suit pressing a wet pattern into his already damp clothes.

She shook with the effort of suppressing her sobs, but Julian didn’t chastise her for it. He didn’t do anything, really—didn’t speak and didn’t try to take advantage of their sudden nearness or her apparently miniscule swimsuit. He just let her cry, and she melted right into his kind embrace without regard for anything but a strong pair of arms and an overwhelming sense of rightness. It would be so easy to get used to this, to fall into a pattern in which Julian called the shots and she jumped into line at the first opportunity of getting near him.

Swiping furiously at her eyes with the back of her hand, she sniffled and tried to regain her bearing. “I’m sorry. That was—”

He stepped back and chucked her gently underneath the chin. “That was what I deserved, and I’m sorry I was such an ass. I’ve never had to worry about sunburn, but I’ve seen Michael blubber like a baby over a patch of red skin at least half a dozen a times.”

Julian’s gaze seemed fixated on the burn at her chest, and Kate felt suddenly exposed to more than his ridicule.

“Um…I’m going to go change,” she stammered. For once, her blush probably didn’t show all over her face. It was a small trade off.

“Do you have something strapless to wear?” Julian asked suddenly, his voice catching in his throat. “Like…er…one of those little floaty dresses you always have on?”

“Ye-es.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Put it on. I’ll meet you over by my tent when you’re done.”

Kate backed into her tent, somewhat dazed by the compassion in his voice. Julian being nice was more powerful than a thousand Scottish warriors on the field. It made her want to pack up and walk away. It made her want to come back only when he was ready to see her as so much more than his enemy.

It would be so easy to let him win, to let him have the park. He’d take her in his arms, plant a kiss on her lips and promise to make it up to her. They could each attend the events that mattered to them, meeting up in the aftermath to explore whatever it was that made her body pound and her heart soar whenever he was near. It was practically laid out in front of her. All she had to do was say the word. All she had to do was stop fighting.

Most of the men she’d dated in the past had loved that she didn’t fight them—on anything. Not where to go to dinner, not about the little quirks that irritated her, not even when it was or was not a good idea to end the relationship. Her last serious boyfriend had even commented on it, celebrating their six month anniversary with a toast to the easiest relationship he’d ever had.

She couldn’t help but feel that Julian saw her the same way. She’d been fine as long as she was willing to fall in line with his plans, as long as she let him barrel over her with his claims of heroism and Scottish prowess. But the moment she stood up for herself—the first time she’d done so in as long as she could remember—she stopped being someone worth caring for.

And that hurt. Almost as much as the growing suspicion that being cared for by Julian was something that mattered a lot more than winning the rights to the park.

Kate rummaged through her bag until she found the pink, floral strapless dress she knew was in there. Jada had laughed when she saw it included in Kate’s camping suitcase, but Kate was never happier to see it in her whole life. Light cotton and loose comfort. She wouldn’t be able to wear anything else for days.

Half-afraid the others had returned and were waiting outside to witness her most recent folly in the wilderness, Kate took her time getting dressed, carefully setting the bikini out to dry and looking, unsuccessfully, for a salve to put on her burn. All she had was hand lotion, and she knew from experience that scented products and sun-damaged skin were not happy bedfellows.

When she finally emerged from the tent, it was to find a camp still devoid of life, a cover placed carefully over the top of the hot tub. Kate glared at it. She’d be happy never to see that thing again.

Julian was picking up some of the garbage that had gathered in the men’s camp, so he didn’t hear Kate until she stood right behind him.

“Will this do?” she asked, holding her arms out to showcase the dress. She stopped short of giving a girlish little twirl.

He barely gave her a second glance, damaging any remaining vestiges of Kate’s pride. “Yep. It’s fine. Come over here. We’re going to want to do this outside.”

“Do what?” Kate busied herself looking around, but she couldn’t pretend not to notice the way her entire body reacted to his command. Warm flooding filled her abdomen, and she was suddenly aware of each breath she took. In. Out. In. Out. She was master of her own actions—her own thoughts. She just had to keep breathing.

“This.” Julian held up a spray bottle and gestured for her to take a seat on the practice caber. He gave the bottle a few squirts, and the pungent scent of vinegar filled the air. Kate wrinkled her nose as far as the pain would allow.

“Vinegar?”

“Trust me. I told you I work in construction—in Arizona most of the time. You wouldn’t believe the burns some of those guys get. Blisters. Ooze. You’re barely pink in comparison. Now sit.”

Kate sat. The moment her bottom touched the wood, Julian began spraying her all over with the vinegar, and she relaxed almost immediately. The droplets were like little gifts from the sky, cooling her skin and taking away the pricking sensation that covered every square inch. The only time he touched her was to lift her hair off her back, and goose bumps raised all along her spine at the double sensation of the liquid and his fingertips grazing the nape of her neck. His hands were light and moved with assurance.

Forearms. Hands. Magic.

She really needed to get control.

“Close your eyes and I’ll get your front.”

She was happy to obey. There was no way she could sit there and watch as he examined her all over. Few things were more erotic than the way a man’s eyes lit up when gazing at something he wanted, whether it was a plot of land with a scenic overview or a woman in a low-cut, strapless dress. And Kate didn’t think she’d be able to sit there and view firsthand what it was that shone more powerfully in Julian’s eyes.