Toni needed a moment. Okay, she needed a millennium. She waited until everyone was out of earshot of her cabin, which was a while because it was eerily quiet in the middle of nowhere. There was an occasional bird caw, a breeze rustling the pine boughs, and then nothing but clean air and the scent of pine—so not the thing she ever wanted to smell again. At least it was dry there, unlike her first and last experience in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, which were swampy, boggy, and above all else, buggy. The memory had her rubbing her arms trying to brush off the feeling of ants crawling all over her. She gave Hunter her best New York glare. “Do you want to tell me why you feel the need to be my bodyguard?” “I think of myself as more of an escort than a guard—unless you need one of those too.” “I don’t need or want either.” “You tell me why you’re ready to hyperventilate at the thought of a quarter-mile hike, and I’ll leave you alone… if that’s what you want.”
