Page 51 of Driving Him Wild

It took a few minutes to wrestle my emotions under control. Striving to lighten the mood, I cast a

deliberate gaze around the cabin. ‘No TV. I’m assuming no Internet either?’

‘In good weather my satellite phone’s reliable enough to keep me connected but in this weather it’s probably non-existent.’

It was a little disconcerting to be so cut off. Well, I still had my satellite phone for however long the battery lasted, but the thought that I wasn’t in touching distance of a ringing phone felt...strange.

Admittedly, in a way that wasn’t...awful. The lack of urgency to be in the centre of everything I’d built was freeing. Enough to trigger a smile. ‘I’m assuming no board games either?’

He shook his head, his eyes twinkling. ‘I wasn’t exactly planning on entertaining when I came out

here.’

I wanted to ask him why he’d come out here when, like mine, his professional life was booked

solid for months. But the emotional wind tunnel I’d gone through a few minutes ago made me shy

away from the personal. ‘So what do you actually do here to occupy yourself?’

He smiled, an open, carefree smile that melted my insides as he caught a strand of my hair and

toyed with it. ‘We didn’t get around to the full tour. My darkroom doubles up as office and studio.

Most times I bring my work with me. When I’m not working, I hike the woods or take the dogs out for a run.’

Great, he was one of those healthily outdoorsy types.

He caught my expression and grinned. ‘Yep, I’m one of those. I find it difficult to sit still for long.’

His fingers left my hair, drifted over my shoulder and down my arm. ‘Unless I have suitable

distraction.’

I nodded, understanding him perfectly. After all, I was one of those. But, sadly,myrestlessness had nothing to do with the need to be at one with nature and everything to do with running away from the demons haunting me.

‘Why adventure photography?’ I asked, despite my intention to steer clear of anything personal. But this wasn’t personal. We were professionals exchanging professional courtesies. He was working on

a project close to my heart and I had every right to know the man behind the camera.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

‘My stepfather bought me a camera for my seventeenth birthday, a peace offering for sending me off

to summer camp when I wanted to spend the holidays at home. I had every intention of hating it, along with everything and everyone at the camp,’ he said with a grin.

‘But you didn’t?’

He shook his head. ‘I fell in love with it. I photographed everything I could. When I returned and

had the pictures developed, I realised I didn’t suck at it, so I stuck with it.’

‘And don’t tell me, since you’d suddenly gone crazy about the outdoors you decided to throw a few

risks in there?’

‘It was easier to convince my mother that the purpose behind climbing mountains to get one unique

picture out of thousands was worth it rather than climbing just for the hell of it. Although that was a seductive draw too.’

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