Sierra Seduction Read Online Free Page B

tried to rein in the heat building low in her body, soaking her panties. “So, what happened, anyway?”
    He blinked, lifting his eyes from her chest. Michaela fought a smile at that. Not busty, not ever, she also had suffered less from the effects of gravity than some. She still didn’t wear a bra except on rare occasions at the gallery and her near constant treks through the mountains in search of the perfect landscape kept her in shape. She had nothing to be ashamed of in the leg department.
    An insane urge to strip naked and show him her assets sent heat rushing from her chest to her forehead. Married. Hands off. No matter how wet her panties and how her nipples poked against the soft cotton of her T-shirt. Michaela Vanz did not sleep with married men. Not even to prove a point. Or satisfy her curiosity.
    “What happened with what?” He dug through his pack again, but never took his gaze from her.
    “Life.” If she could keep the conversation on a chatty level, she might survive until he wandered off down the path and out of her life again. “Have any kids?”
    He pulled a propane burner and a small pan out. “Yes. Cold? You want some tea?”
    “Sure.” She unzipped her sleeping bag and wrapped it around her shoulders to still the shivers that gave her away. “How many?”
    “ Tea bags?” Val retrieved a bottle of water and lit the burner, filling the pan and returning to his backpack again.
    “No, kids.”
    “Two. Girls. Cookies?” A box of tea bags and a zippered bag of some kind of bars appeared. The irony was not lost on her. Over thirty-five years since their last camping trip, he appeared out of nowhere and staged a tea party.
    “If you ask how many lumps, I’m going to lose it.”
    “I have one cup, give me yours. You have one, right.”
    By the time she fetched her pack and found her mug, the water had boiled and she soon held the warm, enamelware in her chilled fingers. Val offered the bag of cookies and she drew one out, their fingers brushing for a tingling moment.
    She took a bite and sighed in pleasure. “These are your mother’s cookies.” A second bite of the rich, dark chocolate and sweet bits of date, crunchy cashews…oats, honey. “So decadent.”
    He grinned at her , his eyes gleaming as though he wanted to take a bite out of her. “The single treat she didn’t try to sneak carob into. Or wheat germ. They were always my favorite.”
    “She sent them almost every week, that summer.” The memory of taste swam through her. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the sun’s heat warming her shoulders, smell the coconut-scented sunscreen they’d both favored. The magical days before—
    “It’s snowing.”
    “What?” She blinked as a cold flake stuck on her lashes. “Crap. I don’t have a tent.” She had not planned on being so far up. But that didn’t make her feel any less stupid.
    “No problem, I do.” Without waiting for a reply, Val dragged a pop-up tent from the boy-scout-prepared pack and flipped it out.
    She gaped. It was a tent, all right, but not one she could sleep in next to him all night and not touch. She’d be cold outside, but her bag was rated to – 30 degrees below zero. Why did that never seem warm enough when alone?
    Under her wary stare, he made preparations for the night, giving her a show no exotic dancer could as he bent and lifted, tugged and reached. No crime in looking. He might be married but she wasn’t dead.
    “Very athletic for an old man,” she quipped, trying not to think about what the bulge in the front of his jeans might imply.
    He winked. “Not planning to check into the home anytime soon. Need anything else from your pack?”
    “Hang on.”
    She pulled her wool hat and a fresh pair of socks out and zipped it again then unhooked her camera gear and returned to observation mode. No matter what he did in life, Val stayed in shape. His pants outlined muscular thighs and an ass she’d like to get her hands on.
    If he wasn’t