“Sydney…”
“Yes?”
He hesitated, then curled that wicked, wonderful mouth into a real-live smile.
“Steer clear of falling rocks.”
“I will.”
She’d steer clear of falling rocks and former lovers and too-handsome engineers. In fact, she swore silently as she reached for the café’s screened door, she’d go out of her way to avoid any and all possible distractions until she finished the shoot and shook the dust of Chalo Canyon from her heels forever.
Unfortunately, avoiding distractions and interruptions was easier planned than done.
The predawn sky still wore a mantle of darkness sprinkled with stars when Sydney walked out of her room, laden with one of Tish’s camera bags and a backpack filled with water bottles. She’d taken only a step toward the parked van when bright headlights stabbed through the quiet of the sleeping town.
Sydney glanced curiously at the vehicle as it pulled into the motel parking lot. She caught a brief glimpse of the silver Diamond-C logo on its side door before the utility vehicle squealed to a stop a few yards away. Her stomach knotted when she saw that the man at the wheel wasn’t Jamie Chavez, but his father.
Okay, girl, she told herself bracingly. You knew this confrontation had to come sooner or later.
Yeah, herself answered, but we were hoping for later.
Come on! Get a grip here. You’re not the same easy mark you were the last time you faced Sebastian Chavez.
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