Warm & Willing. Kate Hoffmann

against the edge of the picnic table, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She turned back to the fire. Why hadn’t he tried to kiss her again?

      “That was a great meal,” he said as she sat down next to him. He picked up the tin cup that held his wine and raised it to her. “My compliments to the chef. I didn’t think you’d know your way around a campfire.”

      “Girl Scout camp, every summer from the age of seven to fifteen. I know how to build a fire and paddle a canoe and sing ‘Kumbayah.’ Did you expect me to run screaming from the woods at the prospect of cooking over a campfire?”

      “I’m not sure what I expected from you,” he said, his voice soft and low, his gaze drifting down to her mouth. His arm rested on the table behind her and he began to play with her hair. “I think you might be full of all sorts of surprises.”

      All this flirting was fun, Sarah mused, and the kissing was even better. But he still hadn’t answered her question. “I need you to take me to Sam Morgan,” she said, her tone direct. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

      A moment later, she realized how her words sounded. Yes, she was willing to live without showers and cell phones, she was willing to trudge up a muddy mountainside with a pack strapped to her back and to cook over a campfire. But if he thought she might be willing to trade sexual favors, then he was sadly mis—

      Oh, hell. Who was she trying to fool? Right now, she’d jump at the flimsiest excuse to get naked with Charlie Wilbury. Every time she looked at him, she caught herself imagining what it would be like to discover the body beneath the flannel and denim, to see what a man with all that smoldering sex appeal was like in bed.

      “Why is it so important to you?” he asked, his gaze shifting to her mouth.

      “It just is. I really want to produce this series. And I usually get what I want.”

      A long silence grew between them. Maybe she hadn’t played this right, Sarah thought. But she didn’t want him to string her along. If he wasn’t going to take her to Sam, then she’d have to find another way.

      “What is it you do back in the big city?” Charlie asked, picking up her hand and toying with her fingers.

      “I don’t live in a big city. In fact, I live in a small town. Belfort, South Carolina. It’s not far from the coast between Charleston and Savannah.”

      “Answer my question,” he said.

      “I’m an independent television producer,” Sarah explained. “My first project was a—”

      “No, no,” Charlie interrupted. “I don’t want to know about your job. I want to know about you. What do you do? On a typical Saturday night.”

      “I’d probably be out. Dinner and maybe a movie. Sometimes a concert. A few weekends ago, I went to an art gallery opening.” She thought back over the dates she’d had in the last year, noisy parties and crowded theaters. She couldn’t remember enjoying a single occasion as much as she’d enjoyed this dinner. Or remember being with a man as attractive as Charlie.

      “You must have your pick of men,” he said.

      “And what do you do on a typical Saturday night?” Sarah said, deftly changing the subject.

      “Same thing,” he said. “Gallery openings are big in Sutter Gap. Just last week Dub Watley got a new Elvis on velvet and we all stood around at the Lucky Penny and admired it. It’s a masterpiece, I tell you.”

      Sarah laughed. “You’re a very charming man, Charlie Wilbury.”

      “And you’re a very beautiful woman, Sarah Cantrell,” he replied.

      Sarah knew if she just leaned forward slightly he’d kiss her again. It was there, in the soft curl of his smile and the sleepy look in his eyes. She ached to be swept off her feet by a kiss, to be so overwhelmed by a man’s touch she lost all sense of time and place. And since she’d met Charlie, she was certain he was the kind of man who could make her wildest fantasies come true.

      But bending Charlie to her will had nothing at all to do with sex, she reminded herself. Though she might be tempted to jump into bed with the first sexy wilderness guide to come along the trail, she had to keep her eye on the real prize—Sam Morgan.

      “It’s getting late,” she said. “I should really get back.”

      He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair from her face. The simple contact had a devastating effect, instantly melting her very last thought of Sam Morgan.

      “Sarah, there’s something I need to tell you.”

      Her breath caught and she groaned inwardly. She’d heard those words, that tone of voice, from several men she’d dated. It never signaled good news. “You’re married?” she said.

      “No!” Charlie replied, as if insulted.

      “Then you’re getting married. Or you have a steady girlfriend. Or you just got out of a relationship.”

      He shook his head. “No. No girlfriend.”

      “Oh,” she murmured, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Well, that’s good to know. So what did you want to tell me?”

      Charlie stood, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “It’ll wait.” He held out his hand to help her to her feet. “I’ll just grab our things and we’ll be off.”

      Sarah was grateful he couldn’t see her embarrassment in the dark. She watched him by the light of the fire as he packed the remains of their meal into the grocery bag. She’d obviously said or done something that had cooled his desire for her. She hadn’t meant to imply that he was a liar or a cheat. It’s just that her experiences with men had taught her a few things. But then Charlie wasn’t like any other man she’d known.

      Maybe his sudden aloofness was for the best. She needed Charlie’s help, not his body. And falling into bed with him simply to satisfy a momentary craving would only make things more complicated between them.

      As they drove back to Sutter Gap, Sarah thought about the days ahead. If she was forced to spend more time with Charlie, then she’d have to find a way to control her attraction to him. The problem was she had no idea how to make that happen.

      THE YELLOW BULB above the motel-room door cast Sarah’s face in a soft light. As they stood there, saying their good-nights, Sam was now absolutely certain she was the most exquisite woman he had ever met.

      Throughout the evening he’d searched for excuses to touch her, longed for opportunities to kiss her. But then he’d remembered the little lie hanging between them and he’d stopped himself. There’d never seemed to be a perfect moment to tell her.

      And now that their “date” was over, all he wanted to do was drag her inside to her bed and make love to her. Yet he knew that would mean crossing a line he didn’t want to. He’d always prided himself on being a gentleman. And though he really needed a woman right now, there were limits to how far he’d go to get one.

      “I had a wonderful time tonight,” Sarah said, her gaze fixed on the front of his jacket.

      “So did I,” he replied. He reached down and tucked a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear.

      Sarah looked up at him and his pulse quickened. This was the moment when need usually overpowered common sense, the moment when a simple kiss would lead to a night in bed.

      In the end, Sam didn’t have to make the choice—Sarah made it for him. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Not a sweet, gentle first-date kiss, but a hot, frantic take-me-to-bed-sailor kiss. At first, Sam wasn’t sure what to do. Though he’d had sex on the brain from the moment he’d set eyes on Sarah, he hadn’t expected her to take the lead.

      Her body molded to his and with a low groan, Sam furrowed his fingers through her hair and deepened the kiss. His tongue dipped into her mouth, tasting the wine they’d shared earlier. He’d