The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (7 page)

Right.

He turned to address his team. “We’re going to make camp here tonight. And as we set up the camp, I’m going to show you how to do the basics. I’ll build you a basic shelter and show you how to make fire and we’ll boil drinking water. Then I’m going to set snares and show you how to fish, and we’ll forage for what we can eat tonight.” All eyes were on him, their faces expectant. He continued. “And you’ll need to pay attention to these lessons, because tomorrow? It’s going to be on you guys to do it all yourselves. Understand?”

They nodded.

“This doesn’t seem like much of a team exercise,” the nerd
with glasses complained. “It sounds like you’re just showing us stuff. How are we supposed to apply that to our lives in the corporate world?”

His first nonbeliever. Grant had told him to prepare for this sort of thing. Didn’t make him have to like the guy, though. Dane put on his most charming smile and tried to recall the man’s name. He stared at him for a long moment.

“We just got here, Pete,” Miranda murmured, shooting Dane a meaningful look. “I’m sure this all has a purpose.”

Pete. He’d remember that now. “It does have a purpose,” Dane agreed. “Which I was just about to get to, if you’d give me a moment.” Though his words were harsh, he kept the smile on his face.

“Sorry,” Pete said, but he wasn’t looking at Dane when he said it. His gaze was on sweaty, too-cute-for-this-trip Miranda, with her high-necked shirt that was sticking to her rather admirable cleavage and outlining it in a way that was far more blatant than a low neckline would have been.

Concentrate, Dane. You’ve seen plenty of breasts in your life, and that particular pair is here specifically to distract you.

Dane cleared his throat. “Like I was saying…this afternoon I will show you how to do six different skills. Each of you should pay attention, of course, but each of these skills will be the sole responsibility of one of you on the team. It will be your job to handle that particular chore for the group all week, and it will also be your job to show the others how to do your job. As you learn each other’s skills, you’ll see that all hands are needed to have a fully integrated campsite, just like a team. Understand?”

“Yes,” they chorused back to him.

“But first…we’re going to do a different kind of exercise,” Dane said.

“Can we get something to drink first?” Pete piped up, an edge of a whine in his voice. “I’m freaking parched and I drank everything in my canteen already.”

This was going to be a very long week with Pete around. “There’s a stream nearby,” he explained. “However, that stream is filled with bacteria. Any water you drink is going to have to be boiled first, unless you’d like to be on the receiving end of a nasty strain of giardia. And to boil water, what do we need first?”

“A cooking pot?” Miranda said helpfully. It was the first statement she’d directed to him since they’d left the lodge area.

“This week, you’ll be stringing your canteen on a tripod and boiling the water over the fire,” he said.

Miranda gave him a slow smile, as if they were sharing a secret. “Fire, then. We need a fire first.”

That husky, playful timbre in her voice jogged his memory, and he caught himself grinning at her despite himself. When she smiled, he couldn’t resist her. But he guessed that Grant and Colt knew that, too, and that was why they’d sent her on this trip.

His friends needed to butt the hell out. His mood taking a sour turn once more, Dane gestured at the woods. “That’s right. First we need a fire, and to make a fire, we need wood. Since we are going to have a fire going all night, we’re going to need a lot of wood. And here’s how we’re going to get it.” He clasped his hands together again, and then gestured at each of the mini-teams. “The three pairs will split up and go in different directions. One of the partners will be blindfolded, using the team bandanas that we’ve provided for you. The other partner will be
instructing you on where the wood is and guiding you without touching you. When your arms are full, you’ll return to camp, drop off your load, and then the blindfolded partners will switch. You’ll have equal time under the blindfold, and equal time to be the guide. Understand?”

“How do we know we won’t get lost?” George said. “We don’t know our way around these woods.”

Dane had been prepared for this, and he pulled out a package of wristbands from his backpack. “These are GPS trackers that emit an electronic signal. If you get lost, I can find you. No worries.”

He passed them out to the teams and one by one, they strapped the GPS trackers on their wrists. As he handed Miranda hers, he noticed there was a tiny crease in her smooth brow, as if she were unhappy with this turn of events.

“There a problem?” he said in a low voice to her.

She looked up, startled. “Oh. No, no problem.” She quickly strapped her tracker to her wrist and turned to Pete. “You can be blindfolded first, though, okay?”

Pete shrugged. “Fine with me.”

The teams blindfolded their partners and began to set off in the woods. One of the businessmen—Steve—barked orders to his partner in a booming voice that echoed in the woods. Dane made a mental note to have a chat with Steve later and discuss why it was bad to talk at supersonic levels in the forest, especially when some of the tasks coming up would require stealth and avoiding the other team.

His ears strained, and he could pick up Miranda’s soft, husky voice. “Left, Pete, left,” she was saying as she guided him past one
tree and then another. “Two steps forward—I, no, two, Pete. Pete. Pete! Look out—”

He watched her cringe as her partner ran into a low-hanging branch. They seemed to be having a bit of trouble, so Dane planted the team flag in the center of camp, and then jogged over to trail behind Miranda and Pete.

“You’ve got to give me better directions than that,” Pete was complaining to Miranda, stretching his hands out.

“My directions are perfectly fine,” she argued with him. “Or they would be if you’d actually listen to them. When I tell you two steps, I mean two steps, okay?”

“Two steps,” Pete agreed. He leaned forward, his hands searching as he moved. “Is there any wood nearby at least?

Miranda thought for a moment as Pete’s hands flailed. “There’s a fallen limb about three paces to your left,” she began.

Pete immediately did a complete about face and plunged toward her. His hands landed squarely on Miranda’s breasts.

Shit. Dane strode forward, ready to break the two of them apart. It was day one and already it was looking like he’d have a sexual harassment suit on his hands. This was bad. This was very, very bad. And judging from the startled—yet pleased—look on Pete’s face, it wasn’t entirely unintentional. That did not surprise Dane. The nerd had been gunning for sexy Miranda since she’d showed up.

He was, however, completely surprised when Miranda shoved Pete away and decked him square across the jaw.

T

Miranda trembled with anger as Dane stepped between her and Pete. He stretched an arm out to keep Miranda off of the fallen man, not that he needed to. She’d flattened him with one well-placed punch. Her hand throbbed like mad but that was all right—it could swell like a balloon and she wouldn’t take back the hit.

Pete had totally deserved it. He pulled off his blindfold and stared up at the two of them, his glasses askew over his eyes and his expression shocked. His hand moved up to rub his jaw. “You hit me!”

She resisted the urge to clutch her collar closed, to make sure that there was not an ounce of cleavage exposed. Instead, she forced her hands down to her sides, and they clenched there like fists. “You grabbed me,” she hissed back at him. “Don’t you
ever
do that again.”

“It was a mistake,” Dane said, turning to face her. He put a hand on her shoulder and shifted, blocking her sight of Pete sprawled on the ground. “Let’s calm down about this, all right?” There was a thread of concern in his voice, and his brow was furrowed as he looked down at her, as if he hadn’t quite anticipated having a woman on his team and didn’t know what to do with her. “You okay?”

She nodded, biting off any angry words. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest protectively and stalked back to the camp flag, where they’d left their packs.

“Pete,” Dane said in that easy voice. “Why don’t you go and gather firewood on your own? I’ll talk with Miranda and make sure there’s no problem.”

“Why should there be any problems?” Pete said defensively, his long fingers swiping at the grass stuck to his shirt. “She’s the one that hit me.”

“Go on,” Dane said equally pleasantly, though Miranda doubted his tone was sincere. It sounded a little forced.

She glanced over out of the corner of her eye and watched Dane help the other man up, brushing off his clothes. They glanced over at her before Pete shrugged and headed off into the woods, leaning over to pick up a fallen branch. At that, Dane turned and began to walk back toward her.

Miranda worried at the tense set of his shoulders and the frown on his face. Shit. This wasn’t working the way she planned. Her temper had gotten away from her when that creep had touched her boobs.

This wouldn’t work. She needed to clear her head and concentrate. She wouldn’t be able to seduce Dane if she got sent home
for fighting with her partner. When Dane returned, she tilted her head and offered him a half smile, her hand fluttering back to her collar protectively. “Sorry. Knee-jerk reaction.”

“You sure you’re okay?” He said, not moving from in front of her. He scratched his head, rubbing at the closely cropped hair in a gesture she remembered from high school. “Do you want to go back? I can take you to the lodge if it’s going to bother you being out here with six men. I don’t want any problems this week.”

“I’ll be fine. He just took me by surprise and I reacted.”

Dane looked skeptical.

“Look,” she said and took a step forward. The smile curved her mouth, and she forced her voice to be teasing again. “If anyone gives me any trouble, I’ll let them apologize before I hit them. I’ve only got one good hand left.” She tried to put her hand on his chest, bridge the space between them.

He stopped her, catching her hand in his, and examined her knuckles. His fingertips brushed over them and he pulled her hand close to his face. “Did you hurt yourself?”

She watched him curiously, her gaze focused on her hand in his. She could feel the rough callus of his hands against hers, and she had to admit that it sent a tingle through her. “I’m all right. I took a self-defense class in college. I know how to punch a creep without hurting myself.”

Dane glanced up at her and gave her a wry smile, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “Can you refrain unless it’s absolutely necessary? That creep paid the same two grand you did for the survival trip. And if he needs to be hit again, I might have to be the one to do it.”

She laughed, and then was horrified at the giggle that escaped
her throat. Evil Miranda
never
giggled. She should have given a sultry chuckle instead. But it made Dane smile, and so she moved forward to lay her hand on his chest again, giving him a very interested look. “Want to kiss my boo-boos and make them better?”

He released her hand as if he’d been burned, turning to the campsite. “We need to start building the fire. Bring over some of that wood, will you?”

Miranda resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips, frustrated at his skittishness. “Fine,” she said, careful to hide the annoyance she felt. She had Dane alone for a few precious minutes, and she needed to capitalize on it. She glanced over at him as he crouched near the spot he’d selected for the fire, tossing a few rocks out of the area. Her gaze slid to his ass, tight in his shorts.

And she got an idea. Moving to the firewood, Miranda bent at the knees and crouched in a way that would make her shorts ride low and expose her black lace thong and the pale expanse of skin it drew across. She glanced over her shoulder, but Dane was facing the other direction. Dammit. She turned and looked at the biggest log—no more than the size of her arm around. She could pick that up no problem, but doing so wouldn’t serve her purposes. So she feigned a deep sigh. “I think this one is too heavy. What do you think?”

She glanced over her shoulder again to see if he was looking at her.

This time, he was. He turned and she saw his expression change from exasperation at her weakness to…something else. His gaze slid down to her skimpy black thong, evident over the
low waist of her shorts, and she resisted the urge to stand up and cover her backside and then clutch at her neckline.

Evil Miranda would
not
approve of covering up.

He seemed to swallow hard. “Are you wearing a thong?”

“What, this old thing?” she drawled, and gave her hips a little wiggle that caused her to wobble slightly on her feet. “Of course.” As if she never left her house in anything but Victoria’s Secret’s tawdriest.

He moved closer to her, his gaze still on the expanse of flesh she was exposing. “You do realize that’s not exactly camping appropriate?”

She shrugged and tossed her long hair over her shoulder, watching as his gaze flicked to it, then back down to her thong. “It’s a little tight against my skin,” she admitted in a coy, secretive voice. “I don’t suppose you could…help me with it?”

Even that was a little forward. Very Evil Miranda. Good Miranda would have been totally mortified.

But Dane moved down next to her, his voice low and husky in her ear as he spoke. “Sure thing.”

She arched her back and closed her eyes, anticipating his touch.

His hand grasped the back of her panties roughly, and her eyes flew open at the uncomfortable wedgie. Before she could protest, he pulled the thong away from her skin. She heard the click of his knife, and then the chopping hiss as he sliced through the fabric.

Dane let go of her and she fell forward, the fabric loose between her legs. Her hand flew to her bottom and sure enough, he’d cut the thong square up the backside. The crotch of it dangled against her leg. She gasped. “What did you just do?”