“Not so long that I don’t remember where you like to be kissed.”
Surprise turned to shock when he lowered his head to touch his lips to the sensitive spot beneath her earlobe, slowly sliding them to the hollow of her throat, his voice vibrating against her skin. “How you like to be kissed.”
“Chase, stop.” A delicious shiver snaked its way down her body before he lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “We—”
His mouth dropped to hers and, despite the part of her brain protesting that a kiss between them just complicated things, her eyes slid closed. The soft warmth of his lips sent her spiraling back to all the times they’d sneaked kisses between patients, celebrating successful outcomes, or held each other in wordless comfort when a patient had been lost. To all the times they’d tramped in the mountains and made love anywhere that had seemed inviting.
Apparently, her hands had their own memories, slipping up his chest to cup the back of his neck, his soft hair tickling her fingers. He’s right. The vague thought flitted through her head as his wide palm slid between her shoulder blades, pressing her body closer as he deepened the kiss. It had been very, very good between them. Until it hadn’t been.
Through her sensual fog the thought helped her remember what a strategic man Chase could be. That this wasn’t unchecked, remembered passion but a calculated effort to weaken her resolve, to have her give in to his marriage demand.
She broke the kiss. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Yes, it is.” His warm mouth caressed her jaw. “I’ve missed you. I think you’ve missed me, too.”
“Why would I miss being dragged out of bed to do calisthenics at six a.m.?” The words came out annoyingly breathy.
“But you missed being dragged into bed for another kind of exercise.”
His mouth again covered hers, sweet and insistent and drugging. One hand slipped down her hip and cupped her bottom, pulling her close against his hardened body.
He’d always teased her about how she couldn’t resist his touch, his kiss. A pathetically hungry little sound filled her throat as she sank in deeper, doing a very good job proving he’d been right.
But that was before, her sanity whispered.
Yanking her mouth determinedly from his, she dragged in a deep, quivering breath. “This won’t work. I know your devious strategies too well.”
His lips curved and his dark eyes sparked with liquid gold. “I think you’re wrong. I think it’s working.” He lifted one hand to press his fingers to her throat. “Your pulse is tachycardic and your breath is all choppy. Both clear indications of sexual desire.”
“Thanks for the physiology lesson.” She shoved hard at his chest to put a few inches between them and felt his own heart pounding beneath her hands. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. “But memories of good sex do not make a relationship. And definitely not a marriage.”
“So we make new memories.” His big hands cupped her face as his mouth joined hers again, and for a brief moment she just couldn’t resist. Softening, yielding to the seductive, soft heat of his kiss, to the feel of his thumbs feathering across her cheekbones, until her brain yelled his words of three years ago. That, despite what he said now, marriage and a family were the last things he ever wanted.
She couldn’t let him see the pathetic weakness for him that obviously still lurked inside her. She had to stay strong for Andrew.
The thought gave her the will to pull away completely and shake the thick haze from her brain, ignoring the hot tingle of her lips. “This is not a good idea,” she said again, more firmly this time. “Our … relationship … needs to be based on logic, just like you said. None of this to muddy things up.”
“You used to like things muddied up.”
The teasing half-smile and glint in his eyes made her want to kiss him and wallop him all at the same time. “I need to rescue Trent. You can meet Andrew, but I don’t want to tell him about … you … tonight. Let him spend a little time with you first.”
“So long as you understand this conversation isn’t over.”
Conversation? Was that what they’d been having? “I’d forgotten what a prince complex you have, bossing everyone around.”
She headed in the direction Trent and Andrew had disappeared, relieved to be back on stable ground without the confusion of his touch, his kiss. Then realized she hadn’t a clue where they’d gone. “Where is the kitchen anyway?”
Chase strode forward with the loose, athletic stride she’d always enjoyed. As though he was in no hurry to get where he was going but still covered the ground with remarkable speed.
“This way.”
His warm palm pressed her lower back again as he pulled a penlight from his pocket, shining it on the ground in front of her. “Watch your step. Rocks sometimes appear as though they rolled there themselves.”
As they walked in the starlight, the whole thing felt surreal. The heat of his hand on her back, the timbre of his voice, the same small, worn penlight illuminating the dusty path. As though the years hadn’t passed and they were back in Honduras again, feeling close and connected. She stared fixedly at the uneven path, determined to resist the gravitational pull that was Chase Bowen.
Chase shoved open a door and slipped his arm around her waist, tucking her close to his side as he led her down a short hallway. Quickly, she shook off his touch.
“Stop,” she hissed. “Drew needs to get to know you without your hands all over me.”
“Sorry. It’s so nice to touch you again, I keep forgetting.” He raised his palms to the sky, the picture of innocent surrender, and she again had the urge to punch the man who obviously knew all too well how easily he could mess with her equilibrium.
Several camp lights dully lit the room, showing Drew sitting at a high metal table, his legs dangling from a tall stool. The low light didn’t hide the melted ice cream covering the child’s face from the tip of his nose down, dripping from his chin.
“Hi, Mommy!” He flashed her a wide grin and raised the soggy cone as if in a toast, chocolate oozing between his fingers. “Dis ice cream is good!”
“I can see that.” She nearly laughed at the guilty look on Trent’s face as Drew began to lap all around the cone, sending rivulets down his arm to his elbow.
“I’ll clean him up.” Trent waved his hand towards Drew, looking a little helpless. “Didn’t see the point of it until he was done.”
“Don’t worry, making messes is what Drew does best,” she said, giving Trent a reassuring smile. “Right, honey?”
“Wight!” Drew shoved his mouth into the cone, and the softened ice cream globbed onto the table. He promptly dropped his face to slurp it straight from the flat metal surface then swirled his tongue, making circles in the melty chocolate.
“Okay, no licking the table.” Chase probably thought she’d never taught the boy manners. Hastily, she walked over to lift his wet, sticky chin with her palm. “Finish your cone, then we’ll find out where we’re sleeping. And you’d better do it quick, ‘coz it’s about to become all cream without the ice part.”
“You know, Drew,” Chase said in a jocular tone that sounded a little forced, “when you stick your tongue out like that, you look like a lizard. We have big ones around here. Maybe tomorrow we’ll look for one.”
Drew’s eyes lit and he paused his licking to look up at Chase. “Lizards?”
“Yep. Maybe we’ll catch one to keep for a day or two. Find bugs to feed it.” Chase moved from the sink with two wet cloths in his hands. His thick shoulder pressed against