Just Dare Me.... Stephanie Bond

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СКАЧАТЬ the fact that he looked so sexy in his khaki shorts and pale blue T-shirt. Her gaze kept straying to his tanned, bare arms and legs, thinking how much more at ease he looked in hiking clothes versus suits.

      Maybe he was more at ease, but seeing his muscular limbs sprawled in the seat and the athletic way he controlled his body was causing her a great deal of discomfort. And she couldn’t afford to let her irrational attraction to Dell distract her from the competition—she needed all her faculties if she were going to have a fighting chance. With every mile that ticked off the odometer, the stone of dread in her stomach grew heavier and heavier. She nibbled on her thumbnail—what had she gotten herself into?

      Dell seemed to have picked up speed since his phone call with Courtney. He turned off the state highway onto a two-lane road that led to the Amicalola Falls State Park, and with the change in landscape, her nerves ratcheted higher. Hoping to calm herself, she pulled out the “Adrenaline Rush” article that she’d torn out and brought with her for moral support.

      Everyone has untapped talents, or talents that you take for granted and can apply to other parts of your life.

      She reread the words she’d already practically memorized, desperate to drum last-minute courage into her brain, but her brain seemed a little…woozy. Maybe it was her imagination, but the roads seemed to be getting more steep…and more curvy…

      Suddenly her stomach roiled and she grabbed the handle on the door frame above her.

      “What’s wrong?” Dell asked.

      “I…think…I’m…carsick,” she murmured. “You might…want to…slow down.”

      “You might want to stop reading,” he said irritably. “We’re running late, remember?”

      “I…don’t…ride…in cars…very…often,” she said, grabbing her stomach.

      “Oh, good grief,” he muttered.

      The vehicle slowed, and he zoomed her window down, bathing her with hot, but fresh, air. She hung her head out the window and breathed deeply, knowing that she probably looked pathetic to Dell, but acknowledged it was better than throwing up in front of him. Several minutes later, her stomach was feeling a touch better…but her throat was feeling scratchy and her nose had started to run.

      Ragweed.

      Getting back to nature had brought her dormant allergies roaring to life. This did not bode well for the weekend. “Do you have a tissue?” she asked, wiping at her watery eyes.

      He tapped the brake. “Are you going to be sick?”

      “No, at least not yet. My allergies are acting up.”

      “Check the glove compartment,” he said, pointing.

      She opened it and a box of condoms sprang into her hand. There was also a black bra, a jock strap and a jar of something called Slippery Sex. The man drove a rolling love shack.

      He grinned and didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish. “In the back.”

      With her face burning, she rummaged past a couple of maps, found a wad of napkins from a fast-food place, yanked one out and sneezed into it. She wanted to roll up the window, but didn’t dare until the queasiness passed. “Please slow down,” she moaned, resting her chin on the window opening.

      “I’m going below the minimum speed limit,” he said. “At this rate, we’ll never get up this mountain.” But he eased off the gas and waved two vehicles around them. When two bicyclists passed them going uphill, Dell’s frustration became palpable.

      “Maybe I should take you back,” he said, pushing his hand into his hair.

      “No,” she said, gulping air past her clogged adenoids. “I’ll be fine once I acclimate.”

      He barked out a laugh. “How long will that take?”

      “I don’t know,” she said, bracing for a violent sneeze. From her lap she grabbed what she thought was the napkin, but wound up sneezing into the black bra. Afterward she held it up by finger and thumb and looked at Dell. “Sorry.”

      He grimaced and reached over to take the bra, then tossed it out his window. Then he looked at the dash, his eyes wide. “Oh, no.”

      “What’s wrong?” she asked, squeezing the bridge of her stuffy nose.

      “The engine light is on—I think it’s overheated.” He steered the SUV to the shoulder and turned off the engine. “I don’t believe this.”

      “Turn on the heater,” she mumbled.

      “What? Why?”

      “It’ll lower the engine temperature.”

      He looked dubious, but he did what she suggested, then climbed out and raised the hood. Steam hissed into the air. Dell waved his arms back and forth, looking for the source.

      “Check the radiator cap for a leak,” she called, then blew her nose heartily.

      “Yeowww!” he howled.

      She sighed, then grabbed the jock strap and climbed out to find Dell holding his burnt fingers. “It’s hot,” she added.

      “I knew that,” he said, swearing and waving his red fingers in the air. “I just forgot.”

      “Stand back,” she said, then used the jock strap to loosen the cap. No radiator fluid spewed out, only more steam. She leaned in and poked at the radiator hoses, zeroing in on a hole the size of a pencil eraser. “There’s your problem—a burst hose.”

      He looked at her, his expression incredulous. “You know about cars?”

      She frowned. “A little. Do you have an extra hose?”

      “No.”

      “Radiator fluid?”

      He sighed. “No.”

      “Wait here.” Gabrielle walked to the back of the SUV, sneezing three times in a row and dabbing at her eyes. She opened the hatch and rummaged through her backpack, removing a roll of black electrical tape, a bottle of water, a tube of burn salve and a white bandage. She walked back to the front. “Let me see your hand.”

      He worked his mouth from side to side, then reluctantly turned over his wounded hand for her inspection. Angry raised blisters formed a line across the underside of his large fingers. She made a rueful noise then opened the bottle of water and, holding his big hand steady, poured cool water over the violated skin. He sucked in a breath, then exhaled in relief.

      Gabrielle’s own breathing seemed to be compromised, too, and she couldn’t blame it entirely on her allergies. Watching the water splash over their hands seemed more erotic than simple first aid. Tamping down her visceral reaction to him, she squeezed the burn salve onto her fingertips and applied it to the blisters as carefully as possible. He winced, but he didn’t complain. With her hands shaking, she tore open the bandage and wrapped it around his fingers twice before securing the end.

      “There,” she said cheerfully. But when she looked СКАЧАТЬ