He remembered everything he’d learned of her and knew that his first guess had been right. He’d known she wanted something, had even acknowledged to himself that he would use that to further his own ends. It should come as no surprise that her change in attitude had been no more than a desire to get what she wanted. She had never fallen prey to his charms at all.
He shouldn’t care. He wanted her. It shouldn’t matter how she came to him, or for what reason. But it did matter. It mattered more than he cared to admit.
He laughed harshly at himself, and the laugh escaped him. “I see. You haven’t been able to find anyone else, and you thought I would serve your purpose.”
She was still staring at him, wide-eyed, biting her lip now. Luke felt some grim satisfaction. Even she wasn’t quite as fearless as she wanted him to believe. Not so entirely unlike the others. For a moment he let her feel the force of his power and watched her react. It seemed cold comfort, even when her next words carried a stammer of distress.
“Yes.” Sensitive lips trembled. “It’s the only reason I’m here. It’s something I have to do, and—I’ll do it however I have to.” Her low voice shook with emotions so tangled he could not tell which was dominant fear, determination, anger, pride. “I know you can help me.”
For the first time Luke turned away, gazing out into the welcoming dark of the forest. “What do you know about me, Joey?” In the wake of her silence he circled to face her again.. “I don’t hire out. I don’t take city girls into the mountains, and I don’t like being used.”
“Neither do I.” She stepped forward, abandoning the dubious security of the tree. “You’d use me the same way, for your own—gratification. I’ve heard all about you, Luke. Don’t go lecturing me about using.”
The edge in her voice challenged him, and for a long moment their gazes locked. “I can pay you, Luke. One way or another.” Her voice softened, and lambent brown eyes drowned him like dark water. “It’s not so much. All you have to do is take me where I need to go before the first snow falls.”
Luke let his gaze drop first, curling his lip as he looked her up and down. He was not used to this strange war of emotions within himself, far less did he understand it. “What do you know about the mountains, Joey? Have you ever gone a day without food or a night without electricity?” The cold harshness of his tone was a deliberate blow. “Have you ever walked ten kilometers over rough uphill terrain and then spent an hour gathering wood for a fire? Have you ever, in your sheltered life, faced the possibility of a lonely, painful death?”
Joey froze a few steps away, her expression rigid. “Yes, I have.” The gold embers in her eyes sparked into flame. “Damn it, Gévaudan, I’ve worked long and hard for this. I’ve trained and prepared, and I’m as fit as anyone could be.”
She set her hands on her hips and bid him look at her, he could not have done otherwise, even now. Her body was taut with indignation, and for the first time, coldly, Luke evaluated her not as a woman he wanted, but as he would an animal for health and fitness—as he would look for fatal weakness in potential prey.
Under the grace he had admired was strength, that much was certain, there was the firmness of muscle under soft skin, the erect posture that hinted of confidence, the flush of health that extended to the aura he had sensed about her from the beginning. There was a flush to her cheeks, too, even as she held herself for his inspection, she was aware of him. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in the hiss of her indrawn breath. And he—he could not look at her without feeling a return of overwhelming desire. With an angry curse, he rejected it.
“Impossible,” he snapped. He watched her jerk at the outright rejection. Had she expected otherwise—expected him to agree because she had a fit body—a body he wanted? Oh, he wanted her, he still desired her, but he found within himself a stronger compulsion. She would not win her little game, she would not be the first to dominate him.