Page 60 of Stripped

I could make out his pout even in the dark. “Really, because this face has some very fine features. I think you'd miss it.”

I growled and spun, stalking back up the mountain. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

“I'm sorry,” he said behind me.

“No, you aren't,” I panted out.

He was silent so long, I knew I was right. It was for the best, I reminded myself. I was leaving anyway.

He grabbed my waist and lifted me so I couldn't walk anymore. It was probably just as well, since I'd long ago lost sight of our leader. “Put me down,” I said, squirming in his grip.

He set me down, my back against a tree, his arms caging me in. “You're right. I'm not sorry. Just because you enjoy taking your clothes off, does that mean I have to like it, too?”

I gritted my teeth and glared at him. I hated this. I hated the way I felt and I hated that he wouldn't let me walk away. “You don't have to take your clothes off. Keep them on and starve to death.”

“You don't think I can get viewers without stripping? You don't think my yoga classes and my knowledge will be enough?”

And it occurred to me that I might have hurt him as much as he'd hurt me. “I'm sure you're very good at what you do,” I said. “But you don't have time for a video to find fans and grow a following. You need something that's going to make a huge splash and draw lots of attention, even from people who don't usually do yoga.”

He was silent. His back was to the moonlight and I couldn't make out his expression.

“Once you have the following,” I said. “You can win people over with your amazing yogi wisdom and abilities. People will be drawn in by half-naked guys, but they'll stay for the yoga wisdom.”

He sighed. “I guess I might have overreacted a bit.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“I'm sorry for what I said,” he said. “I don't think there's anything wrong with what you did for a living, but I'll never be able to say I like the idea of you getting naked for anyone but me. I'm a selfish prick that way.”

I couldn't help my smile. “I guess we both overreacted,” I said. “But it doesn't change anything.”

He bent down and nipped my lips, before pressing his mouth to mine and kissing me almost desperately, like he was a starving man and I was the first food he'd had in weeks.

When he pulled away, he smiled. “I know. We're still just having fun and you're still leaving for Denver as soon as possible. Before you go, how about I show you something better than water fall diving?”

I rolled my eyes skyward. “Pretty sure I've seen it before. I don't recall it being terribly thrilling.”

He chuckled and ground his hips against mine. I gasped at the feel of his hardness hitting just the right spot. “You seem pretty thrilled to me.”

“Still catching my breath from that hike.”

“Finish catching it,” he said. “We've got more hiking to do.”

I managed to bite back my groan. “But it's cold out here and I should really get back to the party.”

“I'll keep you warm,” he said. “Come on. You aren't scared, are you?”

I was scared. I was terrified I wouldn't be able to walk away from him and I'd be stuck. Stuck like I'd seen so many of my friends and employees become, tied down to some mediocre guy in some mediocre marriage, if the guy even bothered to stick around. Stuck in a small town with no opportunity, culture, or joy. I wouldn't let that happen to me and the best way to avoid it would be to march back down the mountain to the party and cut Zane out of my life.

He stepped back, dropping his arms to his side. I couldn't see his expression, but I could practically feel him frowning, displeasure radiating off him. “Just give me this one thing,” he said. “One night to pretend we have something real and, I promise, I'll never bother you again.”

I knew what I should do, but I stepped forward and took his hand. “Lead the way.”

“Thank you, Abby.” He bent and picked up something, a pile of blankets I realized as the bundle in his arms brushed against me. He kept my hand in his and started up the mountain. I followed, sticking close to his back, because the moon had slipped behind clouds and I couldn't see a damn thing.

After about ten minutes of hiking, it didn't matter if I could see, because I couldn't breathe. “Zane,” I said, gasping. “Slow down.”

He slowed his pace without a word, but we kept going up and pretty soon my quads and calves were screaming for mercy.

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