Brett and Annie’s gazes met, then darted away, both acutely aware that this was their first time alone since that day on the trail. Ordinarily Brett wasn’t at a loss as to what to do in the company of a beautiful woman. He’d charm her with a smile; whet her appetite with a look, a gesture; serenade her with his touch. But this was no ordinary situation, and Annie no ordinary woman. She still didn’t trust him—was probably wise not to. Brett didn’t entirely trust himself around her. Despite every attempt to forget that kiss on the ledge, it remained etched in his memory, as clear as the day it had happened. If he’d known today would not be the end of their working relationship, but rather the beginning, he wouldn’t have surprised her with the bath and added agony to torment. Yet he’d given his word. He’d keep his hands to himself even if it killed him. “Annie. . . .” Brett paused and searched for the right words. “I just want you to know that I appreciate you not giving me any guff about Dogie.”
