Why did he always have to make so much sense? She sighed. "That's probably true, but it is fun, and you find the most interesting flowers here in the woods."
He reached out and tilted her chin so that she faced him. His eyes were twinkling again. "Yes, you certainly do." He tugged at the twine around her waist. "I've found one on the end of a strange vine."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "A blooming idiot?"
Too late, she dodged his grasp. He pulled her close, whispering softly in her ear. "A regular passion flower."
His lips silenced her protest and she involuntarily responded. After a moment he held her away from him and gazed down into her face, his eyes warm and still holding a touch of humor. "See?"
It would have been folly to explain to him that he was the first man to affect her so dynamically, but she didn't want to leave him with the impression that she was a nymph either. She twisted free of his grip and moved away.
"Don't mistake gratitude for passion. I'm simply grateful that you weren't a bear."
He chuckled. "Any little scraps I can get." In one smooth movement he jerked the machete from the log and chopped the twine in two. "Now that we've severed that umbilical cord, why don't I show you around the woods a little?"
She hesitated. "What if we get lost?"
His smile was tolerant. "I won't get lost."
She still hesitated, glancing nervously at the machete. "I don't want to scar the trees."
He grinned, hefting the machete. "It's for protection from all the wild beasts. I don't need to blaze a trail to find my way back."
"Well, all right. If you're sure, Davy Crockett, but I don't know how you can find your way back in this confused mess of vegetation."
He laughed. "You're such a city girl."
He moved off on a faint trail and she followed. So he thought she was a city slicker, did he? Well, wasn't she? Sure, his experience was the result of years in the Arizona mountains, but let him try to find his way around Los Angeles.
His long legs set an impossible pace, and before long she was stumbling. Obviously he was trying to prove a point. She didn't belong in the wilderness. Why did men always have to be so tutelarius? Catching the toe of her hiking boots under a vine, she tripped and fell. Heat and exhaustion might have explained the instant fury that welled up in her throat and filled her voice with rancor.
"For crying out loud, Justin. I wanted to explore the woods, not set a world record for travel."