Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(54)

“You’ll get the next ones,” he said. Always be ready, he’d instructed her. Another secret to wildlife shots. “Let’s go down.”

They trekked down to the meadow and she contented herself with some still-life shots—more her speed—catching a lovely glow on some season-worn blackberries.

“Hey,” Rick whispered, pointing up at the cliff. A long-legged bird poised on a narrow ledge above them. “Gray heron,” he whispered, catching it on the wing like he’d read the impulse to fly in its brain. She knew it wasn’t coincidence that he was getting far more animal shots than she was. His skill was obvious in everything he did. He could switch cameras and lenses in seconds flat and used minimum equipment to save weight. He’d brought just two—one with the big telephoto and a monopod he’d retooled himself—and only a couple of filters. He used molding putty so they could be attached to both cameras. And no Velcro anywhere to maintain silence.

Rick motioned her to the creek bank, where he set his camera low on the monopod and got on his belly. She joined him, aching, mucky and miserable, but trying for as much cheer as she could manage. Meanwhile, Rick practically glowed.

“How come you look so good?” she said. “Your shirtsleeves are still creased.”

“It’s a gift, babe. What can I say?” She loved his grin. She snapped a photo of him. He was in his element. She was lost.

She took more photos, snapping a shot of water streaming over silver-flecked granite while tiny black minnows formed an attentive semicircle below, waiting for dinner or maybe a show?

Something buzzed near her head, then banged the edge of her ear. She tried to wave it away, but it went straight into her ear, tickling and buzzing away. “Ooh, ow, ouch!” She rose to her knees, bent her head to the side and banged her ear, trying to knock the thing out of there.

“What’s wrong?”

“A bug! There’s a big bug…help!”

“Let me see.” Rick grabbed her head, peered into her ear, flicked something and the buzzing ceased.

“What was it? It sounded huge.”

He held up his index finger. A tiny beetle took off. “Your ear amplified the sound.” He was clearly trying not to grin.

“It could have laid eggs. I could have bugs eating a path to my brain in a few hours.”

“Only on the sci-fi channel.” He wiped her cheek free of dust or mud or algae, his fingers gentle on her skin. Then he took a step backward and aimed his camera at her.

“What? You’re making a poster for survivalists?”

“You look great.” He snapped a photo. “Like you belong out here.” He held her gaze for a long moment.

“You’re just trying to cheer me up. Look at you. You don’t even have any mud on your boots.”

“That’s an old trick. Don’t run from bees.”

“They weren’t chasing you.” She slugged his firm shoulder.

“That’s right. It’s your own fault for smelling so sweet.” He smiled so warmly her heart lifted. “So, are you hungry? Shall we eat?”

“Sounds great,” she said.

In a shady spot, they unrolled the thin blanket Rick had carried in his pack, removed their boots and socks and Samantha peeled off her jeans and long-sleeved shirt.

She caught Rick watching her, rapt. He flushed, then turned to his backpack, where he lifted out the food.

They were soon eating sandwiches of smoked ham, goat cheese, spicy mustard and baby spinach on multigrain bread, munching blue-corn chips and drinking a lusty merlot.

Being outdoors made everything taste remarkable. She relished every delicious bite of moist sandwich and crisp chip and loved the rich wine.

She finished her sandwich and watched Rick ball up the discarded plastic and paper and pack everything away, glancing at her, adding to her wine. He seemed so easygoing, his usual tension completely gone, as if he had nothing to hide anymore. She liked him even more, dammit.

“You seem so different out here,” she said. “More open. You laugh more.” His grin was so broad it was almost childlike.

“It’s not just being out here,” he said, hesitating before he finished. “It’s being here with you.”

“Rick…” She was so touched she didn’t know what to say.

“I wanted you to see all this.” He waved out at the distant creek and the high red rocks. “I knew you’d like it, too.”

This trip to outdoor hell was suddenly worth every miserable minute. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you lie down?” he said, patting her camera bag, as if it were a pillow. He snugged his own against it and lay down himself.