“What if you don’t have the answers I need?” she asked, her words trailing off as a herd of bighorn sheep stepped into view just below the ridge. “Oh wow,” she breathed reverently, all her focus on three ewes at the head of the group. “What are they?”

“Bighorn sheep.” He glanced sideways at her. “You’ve never seen one before?”

“Never. Although I might have seen little ones without the heavy horns and thought they were goats.” She started recording a video on her phone. The screen showed the animals up close.

He pointed to the ewes at the head of the group. “They’d be some big goats,” he teased, liking the smile that curved her lips in response.

She’d been stunning the night before in her vibrant crimson dress, but he was even more captivated by her now, her skin free of any makeup, her mouth a soft shade of rosy pink. One dark curl teased across her cheek in the breeze while the tail of her scarf flapped close to his cheek as he leaned closer to watch with her.

He breathed in her clean scent, remembering the way she used to dot lavender essential oil behind each ear instead of perfume. And, as if that one small reminiscence had been the dam holding back all the rest, memories rushed at him like a rogue wave. Sitting behind her in a tub full of rose petals and washing her hair. Driving up the Pacific Coast Highway with her in the passenger seat of his BMW Z8 roadster, the sounds of Big Sur mingling with her laughter. Undressing her in the private elevator on the way up to their penthouse suite in Seattle on a business trip.

“But I’m no wildlife expert,” she exclaimed, snapping him out of his reverie. “How would I know?”

She tapped the screen to stop recording, then turned to catch him staring.

For a moment, the past and present blurred. Maybe it was because he wished he still had the right to wrap her in his arms and taste her. Tempt her into forgetting everything else but how good he could make her feel.

Her breath caught before she spoke.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” she said with a husky note in her voice until she cleared her throat and started again, “is a mistake.”

The determination in her tone helped redirect his brain. Straightening in his seat, he nodded.

“Should we get out and walk around? Stretch our legs?” he offered, not sure there was enough fresh air in the Bitterroot Range to help him keep his thoughts off Elena’s lips.

But he’d damned well try.

He’d shouldered the burden of being the point man at Mesa Falls to give Weston a break from a job he’d done so well for years. He couldn’t spill all of the owners’ secrets to the first reporter who showed up. Even if this particular reporter was causing heat to creep up his spine and flare along his shoulders.