“Yes. I mean no. Yes and no.”
He leaned closer, the warmth of his body enveloping her in a masculine glow. “Make up your mind.”
“This project is my responsibility. You have the crocodile park to run and your foster father to worry about.”
“I can keep a better eye on Des from here than from the park. And my deputy is accustomed to running the show when I’m away rounding up rogue crocodiles. He can consult with me by phone if he needs to.”
Her throat felt dry. “You can’t be planning to stick around for the whole month?”
“Depends.” He lifted a hand and brushed his finger lightly down the side of her face. Whispers of need coiled through her, hot and urgent, until she almost leaned into his hand.
Shaken by the strength of the temptation, she stiffened her spine. “On what?”
“On what you want.”
She found her voice with an effort. “I want to prove I can survive out here, so anything you can teach me is welcome.”
“Oh, I think we have plenty to teach each other.”
“I was talking about bush survival.”
“That, as well. Have you heard of the code of the outback?”
She shook her head.
“My brothers and I dreamed it up when we were boys. The code says you don’t give up and you don’t back down. You also stand by your mates.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“All of it. There is something between us, Jo. You felt it the moment we met. Under the code, we don’t back away from what we feel, and we don’t give up if what we feel is right. What I feel for you is very, very right.”
“This isn’t why I came to the Kimberley.” Why she had come, she couldn’t readily answer, but it couldn’t have been for this.
“Maybe not, but it’s why you’re staying.”
He made it sound like forever, which was impossible. He was right about the attraction. It wasn’t going to go away. Neither was he, she understood. Which left her where? Previously, when men had disturbed her emotional balance, she’d ended the relationship. But she couldn’t dismiss Blake while she needed his help with the assignment.
Things had been fine between her and Nigel until he’d told her how important she’d become to him, she thought. Instead of being flattered, she’d started to pull away, not wanting to have to live up to his expectations. So what did she want from a man? Spending this time in the outback, she hoped to find some answers.
She stuck her hands into her pockets. “If we’re going to work together, we need some ground rules. And I don’t mean that code of yours.”
“It works for me, but go ahead.”
She began to tick points off on her fingers. “First, you don’t mollycoddle me. I need to make my own mistakes and learn from them.”
“I guess bringing coffee to you in your sleeping bag in the morning is out?”
He sounded almost disappointed and she shook off the urge to smile. “Be serious. I’ll get up when you do and pull my own weight in everything.” If it killed her, she thought. Remembering the crocodile, she wondered if she should have stuck with Blake’s code of the outback while she was ahead.
“Sounds reasonable so far,” he agreed. “Anything else?”
This was the tricky part. “This is my show. I’m in charge.”
The muscle she saw working along his jaw told her he didn’t like the condition. He was probably used to being the leader, calling the shots. Well, not this time. The silence stretched as he thought.
“I can live with it,” he conceded, his easy tone belying his tense body language. “With one exception.”
She watched him warily. “What?”
“If I see you doing something that could get you injured or killed, I’ll step in and take over with no arguments from you. Agreed?”
The condition was reassuring and she nodded her acquiescence. “In that event, I’d be a fool to argue. Do we shake hands on the deal, or what?”
“Or what,” he said.
Releasing his hold on the tent, he stepped closer and his hands closed around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She should have expected this. He’d warned her he was attracted to her. And heaven knew, she was attracted to him. Still, she was unprepared for the onslaught of sensations as his lips found hers. Her mind reeled.
The mouth that she’d dismissed as hard and uncompromising was anything but, she discovered when his lips teased hers apart. His were firm and sensuous, tormenting her with featherlight forays to the corners, then claiming her whole mouth as if to share air. Not an unpleasant act, she discovered, breathing in the masculine scent and taste of him as her reason threatened to slip.
She was out of her element, exhausted. How else could she explain her sudden bout of weakness, as if her limbs had turned molten? Desire bubbled up, making nonsense of her claim to be in charge. The night didn’t help, dizzying her with a thousand pinpoints of starlight so that she had to cling to Blake as her world spun.
His breathing sounded fast and shallow. His fingers massaging her shoulders made her shift restlessly, as if to steer his hands to more intimate places. Eyes closing, she dropped her head back and allowed him access to her exposed throat. His lips lingered on the pulse she could feel fluttering like a trapped bird.
Somehow, she managed to find her voice. “Blake, this isn’t a good idea.”
His cheek nuzzled hers, the beginnings of a beard rasping against her softness. The contrast felt wonderful. “You make it sound as if we have a choice,” he murmured.
Strange how hard it was to argue. “There’s always a choice.”
He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Between?”
A moan struggled to break free. The fog in her mind resisted logical thought, but she made a valiant effort. “What we’re doing and—not doing it.”
He was planting kisses along her collarbone, pushing aside her top to worship her sun-kissed flesh. Shivers rippled. Needs clawed. Trying to blame the late hour, the alien surroundings or the stresses of the day seemed pointless. The only reason she was in Blake’s arms was because she’d fantasized about it all evening. He was right about the lack of choice. The only question had been when she would find herself in his arms. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would be so soon.
Too soon. She felt as if she were falling into a bottomless pit, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “We barely know each other,” she tried.
He traced a finger down the cleft between her breasts, her answering shiver almost ending the argument there and then. “I thought we were about to remedy that.”
She twisted away, the effort almost too much. “You’re assuming I want to.”
His smile deepened and desire glinted in his eyes, echoing her own. “I know you want to. But until you’re ready to acknowledge the truth of it, I can wait.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
She shook her head. “No woman likes to be predictable.”
“That’s the wonder of you, Jo. You’re not in the least predictable.”
Except in this, she thought, astonished to be having the discussion with Blake at all. It had nothing to do with kissing or lovemaking. This was Shakespeare’s “marriage of true minds” and Blake was taking her to