It was stuck on a protruding rock in the underground cave she was in. She struggled out of the straps and yanked harder; she winced when she heard the fabric tear. To her mortification, Sky heard a low chuckling from behind. She groaned when Rolf Hammer sauntered up to her and easily lifted the backpack down and settled it into her arms. She looked up, way up, into his smiling eyes and her heart flipped annoyingly. The man was beyond gorgeous. His thick short hair was black as midnight and his eyes were a brilliant shade of indigo blue. He stood six foot four when in bare feet and was all muscle. In the black hiking boots he wore he dwarfed her five-foot-four frame and one-hundred-and-eight pounds. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Anything for a damsel in distress.” Sky’s face flamed red. Just that morning she had overheard him and another male colleague discussing her. Rolf had laughingly said she had the body of a twelve-year-old boyno boobs, small ass, chicken wings for arms and colt legs.
