Wild Thing (4 page)

Hunter opened the back of his Land Cruiser. “Are you two done yet, and do I have to remind you that these people are our clients? You can explore your sexuality later. We’ve got work to do.”

Trapper rocked on his heels. “Lord knows we’re going to have our hands full just keeping them out of the bonfire tonight.”

Fisher reached into the truck and pulled out a fire extinguisher. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

***

The next morning Hunter was up with the birds. At a quarter to nine, after a nice breakfast at the lodge, he knocked on Toni’s cabin door. She answered wearing a big, black straw sun hat, its brim almost concealing her face, a black fishnet, see-through cover-up over a bathing suit that was… something completely unexpected.

The black one-piece suit was right out of a 1940s pinup calendar—plain, save for a little ruffle on the sweetheart neckline, held up by wide straps, and a small ruffle at the leg where it ended like those boy shorts his old girlfriend wore all the time. He suddenly knew why those photos stayed on the walls for years and years. Her suit barely hinted at cleavage, but was so damn sexy he had to shake his head to clear it.

“What is it now?” She stuck her hands on her hips and spread her legs as if she was getting ready to fight. She had long, powerful legs, not the sticks some girls walk around on. Toni’s were cut without being bulky. Damn, even in those checkerboard Vans, she looked hot. It probably wasn’t a good idea to mention that seeing her in an old-fashioned bathing suit scrambled his brain.

“One good breeze, and your hat will be history. Do you have a baseball cap?”

“I thought we had to wear helmets.” She was cute when she was exasperated.

“We do when we’re on the raft, but this is for the hike to the river and the time we’re off the raft. Believe me, as pale as you are, you’ll need a hat. I have one you can wear if you want.”

She took a step back. “Hike?”

Damn. In a tenth of a second she went from mad to scared. He preferred mad—it was kind of a turn-on. He imagined she was always sexy, but anger made her go from hot to scorching. When she was scared though—shit, he had no defenses. “We’re about a quarter of a mile from the river. It’s an easy hike.”

“Nothing about this trip is easy.”

“Why is that?”

Toni shook her head and mumbled something that sounded like, “I can’t do this.”

James, Trapper, Fisher, and a pack of models chose that particular moment to join them. No matter how many beautiful women surrounded him, Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off Toni. She had all the signs of being terrified of something; he just didn’t know what. On that subject, her mouth was shut, which seemed out of character.

James slid beside her, threw his arm over her shoulder, and pulled her close. “How you holding up?”

“Just peachy, thanks. I have to get my other hat.” She took off her floppy hat and gave it a wave. “Survivor Man said this one won’t cut it. Everyone go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Hunter didn’t move. “I don’t mind waiting.”

She stepped into his personal space. A tough New Yorker replaced the terrified woman. “I don’t need an escort. I’m a grown woman. I think I can find the river on my own.” Not that it looked as if she was planning to. He had a feeling if she went back inside that cabin she’d shut the door, slide the bolt home, and shove a chair under the doorknob just for good measure.

Hunter didn’t need reminding that she was a woman grown. He knew it with every fiber of his being. He had a sudden urge to make use of the collar she wore around her throat, whether to pull her closer or make her stay, he was unsure. He didn’t have to be Einstein to know she was past ready to bolt. He wanted to know why. “I’m sure you can. I’m just not sure you will.”

With a toss of her head, she had James clapping his hands. “Okay, let’s get down to the rafts everyone. Toni and Hunter, play nice, and don’t be too long.”

Chapter 2

Too bad Hunter wouldn’t leave with James and the models. Toni needed a moment. Okay, she needed a millennium. She waited until everyone was out of earshot of her cabin, which was a while because it was eerily quiet in the middle of nowhere. There was an occasional bird caw, a breeze rustling the pine boughs, and then nothing but clean air and the scent of pine—so not the thing she ever wanted to smell again. At least it was dry there, unlike her first and last experience in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, which were swampy, boggy, and above all else, buggy. The memory had her rubbing her arms trying to brush off the feeling of ants crawling all over her. She gave Hunter her best New York glare. “Do you want to tell me why you feel the need to be my bodyguard?”

“I think of myself as more of an escort than a guard—unless you need one of those too.”

“I don’t need or want either.”

“You tell me why you’re ready to hyperventilate at the thought of a quarter-mile hike, and I’ll leave you alone… if that’s what you want.”

“I’m afraid of the woods.”

“Why?”

“I got lost.”

“When?”

“I was six.”

“Where?”

“The New Jersey Pine Barrens.”

“For how long?”

“Three days.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, just me and my vivid imagination.”

He took a step closer and touched her arm. “Is it always this bad?”

She shrugged and looked away. She’d expected to be teased, but he didn’t. She feared he’d try to placate her, but no. Nor did he try to make light of it. He listened to the facts. “I’m from New York. As long as I stay out of Central Park, I’m fine. But then Bianca got involved with a big hush-hush deal and couldn’t leave the negotiations, so she sent me. It’s not going well.”

“You never tried to go back before?”

“Why would I? I’m not a masochist.”

His winged brow had her fingering her collar. She suddenly felt very exposed and found herself tugging the hem of her fishnet cover-up. It didn’t help.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t lost a guest yet.”

“It doesn’t. It’s not rational. I know that. I can’t control it so I deal with it.”

“Stay close to me.”

She tamped down the urge to roll her eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, it’s supposed to make
me
feel better. I’m not sure there’s anything that will help you.”

“A plane ticket to New York would do the trick.” She did her best to smile. He didn’t bother smiling back. No, he was all business.

“I’m working under the theory the human body can’t survive in a constant state of panic for long, so after an extended period—”

“I’ll die?”

“No, you’ll stop having panic attacks.”

“What’s your definition of an extended period?”

“Probably longer than yours. I guess we’ll find out.”

Toni went into her cabin and looked longingly at the pillow. Maybe she could put that in a Ziploc bag and take it with her. On second thought… she’d have to settle for a brown paper bag. With her luck, she’d wear the sucker out before she even saw the river. The door opened and shut. She didn’t need to look to see who it was. She felt him behind her and wasn’t at all happy about it. The last man she needed was a modern Davy Crockett wannabe.

Toni turned and shot him a glare. “What? You think I’m incapable of finding a better hat and meeting you outside?”

“Not incapable, but you’re doing a great job of avoidance. What’s the bag for?”

“I don’t have a Ziploc big enough for my pillow, although I know they make one. It wasn’t on your required packing list. A paper bag is more portable, and I just never know when I’ll feel the need to hyperventilate or make one of those cute hand puppets.” She shut her mouth and put her hand over it to make sure she didn’t start babbling again.

Hunter awarded her a full smile. “Don’t stop talking for my benefit. I like listening to you. So tell me… would your puppet have one of those cute collars you like to wear?”

“I guess I can draw one on if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I think I would.”

She grabbed her white cap with rivet holes and a black bird stenciled on the side. When it wouldn’t fit over her pigtails she took them out, tied a ponytail, and pulled it through the back of the hat. Hunter took her arm and steered her out of her cabin. Great.

He looked around as he led her to a trail through tall pines.

“There sure is a lot of wildlife out here.”

“Don’t worry. They’re just as afraid of you as you are of them. As long as you make a little noise, you probably won’t see them. In bear country, people walk with bells on their walking sticks or backpacks so the bears hear them before they see them.”

“I take it bears don’t like bells.”

“That’s the idea.”

Toni wished she could erase the smell of pine and replace it with the scent of exhaust, while pretending she walked down Broadway instead of a dirt trail. She should have recorded all the lovely city noises and put them on her iPod. What she would do to hear the familiar honking of irate cabbies and the occasional comment foisted upon the poor driver who offended them, buses’ air brakes, tires squealing, and the inevitable sirens adding to the heavenly cacophony.

Hunter nudged her shoulder, breaking her concentration. “Did you bring sunscreen?”

“I’m working on my visualization technique here. Do you mind? I’m pretending I’m on Broadway, and you’re not helping. No one has ever asked me if I had sunscreen while walking down Broadway.”

“Sorry. I’m just afraid you’ll end up with a nasty burn. But a sunburn through that cover-up you’re wearing will make a real interesting pattern on your skin—like a red and white fishnet stocking. You can start a new fashion trend.”

The sound of rushing water had Toni’s throat going dry. She pulled a bottle of the wet stuff out of her bleeding heart backpack and took a sip. Why didn’t she fill her prescription for Xanax? She could use one… or a dozen right about now. The cabin she’d all but hidden in since her arrival was no longer in sight.

“You okay?”

“Just skippy. Why?”

“You’re turning even whiter than usual again.”

“What do you expect? I can no longer see civilization.”

He took her hand. His was cool and dry. Hers was not. “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“I can get lost and never be found.”

“I won’t let you get lost. It’s bad for business.”

“No one would notice. They didn’t the last time.”

Hunter stopped, which stopped her, since he was holding her clammy hand. “I’d notice. So would everyone else.”

“You’re nice to say so, but no. Most wouldn’t, and I’m fine with that. I don’t like to stand out too much.”

Hunter raised his brow again. It was getting annoying.

“I might dress a little loudly—”

“A little?”

“Fine. I dress like a freak, but I still blend into the wallpaper, especially around a bunch of models in New York.”

“Is that why you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Work with models so no one will notice you. Although I noticed you, and I’d bet a year’s salary that Trapper and Fisher noticed you too.”

“You have to notice me. I’m the boss.”

Hunter shook his head. “No, I’m the boss. You work for the client. There’s a difference. I own River Runners for a reason.”

“You don’t play well with others?”

“I play with others just fine.”

The look in his eye and the gravelly quality of his voice made her think of the kind of play involving plastic sheets and wessonality. Not that she ever partook. But the man did have expressive eyes, or possibly the altitude was getting to her, turning her into a delusional sex kitten.

“I don’t like working for them. I want to run things my way.”

Toni did her best to rip her mind out of the gutter. Heck, they didn’t even have gutters here. Where did mountain peoples’ minds go to play without a gutter?

“I make the rules.”

That set off a few alarm bells. He might as well have hit his chest with his fist. Maybe he was the mountain version of Tarzan. Her pointer finger twitched to poke him. “Oh, so you’re a control freak.”

Hunter shrugged and looked as if he considered it. After a moment, he shook his head. “I like to say I’m commanding.”

“Semantics.” Before Toni realized it, Hunter had dragged her to the river. She removed her hand from his as soon as she saw the rest of the crew. Two orange rafts lay onshore, and a bevy of models surrounded the two men she’d run from earlier.

Hunter pointed. “That’s Trapper and Fisher.”

Fisher looked like a blond version of Hunter with a twist of California surfer dude thrown into the mix, and Trapper, well, he looked like a more attractive version of the Marlboro Man, with collar-length blond curly hair, chiseled features, and rugged exterior. “Hunter, Trapper, and Fisher. You three aren’t brothers are you?”

Hunter smiled. “What tipped you off?”

“The family resemblance. Your parents have a hell of a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, well. My dad was trapping when Trapper was born, hunting and fishing when Fisher and I were born. When he wasn’t there for our baby sister’s birth, Mom finally divorced him.”

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Karma.”

“Like I said, your mom has a hell of a sense of humor.”

Trapper walked up to her and held out his hand. “I’m Trapper, the older, wiser, and better-looking brother. You must be Toni.”

Toni wiped her hand on her cover-up and shook his. “Guilty as charged.”

Fisher dragged himself away from his adoring fans and joined the three of them. “Hi Toni. I’m Fisher, the smart one.”

“Nice to meet you. All of you. I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She pulled her clipboard out of her bag. “I want to take a head count before we start with… whatever it is you’ve dragged me out here to do.”

Hunter cleared his throat. “Just give you a nice, easy lesson on rafting and then a picnic. Smile, Toni. This is supposed to be fun.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” She turned to face the group of seven women and four men including James. She went down her list. “Aristotle, Becky, Candice, Chad, Harrison, Jordan, Layla, Roxanne, Randy, Yvette, and James. Good. Everyone is accounted for. Hunter, the show is all yours.”

***

Hunter wasn’t sure which of the models were giving his brothers more attention, Ari or the twins. Ari looked like he had a definite thing for Fisher, but Fisher didn’t seem to notice—he was too busy paying attention to the women. Hunter decided to take pity on his twin and put Ari in Trapper’s boat.

Toni had backed away from the group after she’d done roll call. She had a way of hiding in plain sight. The models had all donned their bathing suits. The tans looked store-bought and so did most of the breasts. “Okay, everyone have their gear? Let’s put it on. Trapper and Fisher, give everyone’s gear a once-over, would you?”

Hunter brought Toni her PFD and helmet. “Let’s get this on you and cinched up tight.”

She looked a little shocked. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight.” He helped her into the PFD.

“This doesn’t look like any life preserver I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve ever really looked at them. I guess I should be thankful it isn’t DayGlo orange. Red would have been nice, but the robin’s egg blue isn’t too offensive.”

The vest zipped up the front and a whistle hung from a D-ring next to a zippered pocket built into a padded section cupping her breasts. The back was padded as well.

“This is really unattractive.”

When Hunter tried to zip it for her she stopped him. “I think I can handle zipping. I learned that in preschool.” He waited until she zipped, and then he cinched the sides tighter.

“Am I supposed to be able to breathe?”

“Yeah, but it has to be snug.” He gave it a tug to check the fit and then set the helmet on her head and adjusted the chin strap. “There you go. You’re all set.”

“For what?”

“Fun, Toni. We’re going to have fun.”

“Right. In your world maybe. In mine, it’s called torture.”

“Great attitude you have there. Come on. Let’s put that clipboard and the rest of your gear in a dry bag.”

“You’re going to separate me from my clipboard?”

“If I don’t, you’ll drop it in the river. Which do you prefer?”

“I prefer to go back to my cabin where I belong.”

“Not if you want to hit all the photo shoots, you don’t.”

“Fine. Take it, but if you lose it—”

“I won’t. Relax and try to enjoy the experience. This is recreation.”

“Right.”

Hunter took her bag and stowed it on his raft with his most important gear—the first aid kit. He sealed the bag and tied it down. Toni watched, leaning in to inspect his work. “Don’t worry. It’s not going anywhere without me.”

“What if you lose the boat?”

“Like I said before, I haven’t lost a client or a raft yet.”

“Yeah, that’s what my brownie troop leader said too. I feel so much better now. Why is it I’m always the worst-case-scenario girl?”

“Maybe it’s the positive attitude.”

Hunter ignored Toni’s eye roll and took everyone through the basics of rafting by rote. “Okay everyone, let’s make sure your helmet is on nice and snug. A finger or two under your chin is fine. More than that, you could lose it, thus canceling the effectiveness of wearing a helmet, and we all know we’re not wearing it for fashion’s sake. Same with your PFD. Make sure it’s on tight so you’ll be able to self-rescue. If it’s loose, you’ll sink down, and it will float over your face. This makes it hard for us to see who you are and decide whether or not we want to pull you back into the boat.”

Ari and Chad laughed. Toni didn’t. She was getting paler by the moment. Going for the short version, he held up the paddle. “Your paddle is the most important part of your gear. It determines if you’re able to keep yourself in the raft.”

Hunter turned the paddle to demonstrate. “Put your hand on top of the T-grip, tuck your thumb under, and wrap your fingers around it. Your other hand wraps around the shaft about six inches above the top of the paddle. This will give you nice, long forward strokes—”