What are you gonna do?” “Flip him off? Duck behind my steering wheel?” Maya Cordoba asked, batting her eyelashes. Really, how could the man expect her to concentrate when his sexy green gaze stroked over her bared shoulders like a physical caress? Or was it just her imagination and he was really wondering why she’d dressed in skimpy shorts and a spaghetti-strapped tee for an anti-terrorist training seminar? Angel Rickman sighed and rubbed a large hand over his short-cropped black hair. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Keep your eyes on the road,” he practically barked at another steep, unmarked turn. Maya almost felt sorry for him. She wasn’t exactly the class genius. After all, this was just a vacation for her. She wasn’t here like some of the other students who had to learn skills for real-life survival. The most worrisome dilemma she’d ever faced was her travel agency’s audit when the accountant made the ominous pronouncement the company only months to prove up the business or their financial backers would sell off their assets.