First, he'd given her the best kiss of her life last night, then walked away and closed the door. Then, she hadn't been able to sleep thinking about the kiss, reliving it over and over, and wondering why he walked away. Okay, it was best that he had, but why kiss her in the first place? Had he been drunk? He'd only had a few beers so she didn't think that was it, so then, why? And worst? This morning he was acting as if nothing had happened. Which made her doubt her own sanity. Had it happened? Had she dreamed it? Because when she'd finally worked up the courage to walk out of her room this morning, all he'd done was inspect her clothes to make sure they were suitable for a hike, then ushered her out the door. Only one thing could cause that. Regret. She wished knowing that didn't hurt. Thus the urge to push him out of the helicopter. She was too tired and too churned up to make conversation in the taxi to the airport where they would meet the helicopter tour. She focused on the scenery outside the window and not the scenery beside her. "You sure you don't want the seat by the door?" he asked as they approached the helicopter. "Very, very sure." There were no doors on the thing.
