Suspicious, but finding no room to argue, Lee followed him again. They walked out of the sunlight into the dim coolness of a stand of trees. The creek was distant but still audible. From somewhere to the left came the tinny sound of music from a portable radio. Closer at hand was the rustling of small animals. With a nervous look around, Lee convinced herself they were nothing more than squirrels and rabbits.

With the trees closing around them, they might have been anywhere. The sun filtered through, but softly, on the rough, uneven ground. There was a clearing, small and snug, with a circle of stones surrounding a long-dead campfire. Lee glanced around, fighting off the uneasiness. Somehow, she hadn’t thought it would be this remote, this quiet, this … alone.

“There’re shower and bathroom facilities a few hundred yards east,” Hunter began as he slipped off his pack. “Primitive but adequate. The metal can’s for trash. Be sure the lid’s tightly closed or it’ll attract animals. How’s your sense of direction?”

Gratefully, she slipped out of her own pack and let it drop. “It’s fine.” Now, if she could just take off the boots and rest her feet.

“Good. Then you can gather some firewood while I set up the tent.”

Annoyed with the order, she opened her mouth, then firmly shut it again with only a slight hiss. He wouldn’t have any cause to complain about her. But as she started to stalk off, the rest of his sentence hit home.

“What do you mean the tent?”

He was already unfastening the straps of his pack. “I prefer sleeping in something in case it rains.”

“The tent,” Lee repeated, closing in on him. “As in singular?”

He didn’t even spare her a look. “One tent, two sleeping bags.”

She wasn’t going to explode; she wasn’t going to make a scene. After taking a deep breath, she spoke precisely. “I don’t consider those adequate arrangements.”

He didn’t speak for a minute, not because he was choosing his words but because the unpacking occupied him more than the conversation. “If you want to sleep in the open, it’s up to you.” Hunter drew out a slim, folded piece of material that looked more like a bedsheet than a tent. “But when we decide to become lovers, the arrangements won’t make any difference.”

“We didn’t come here to be lovers,” Lee snapped back furiously.

“A reporter and an assignment,” Hunter replied mildly. “Two sexless terms. They shouldn’t have any problem sharing a tent.”

Caught in her own logic, Lee turned and stalked away. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her behave like a woman.

Hunter lifted his head and watched her storm off through the trees. She’d make the first move, he promised himself, suddenly angry. By God, he wouldn’t touch her until she came to him.