Dangerous to Know (6 page)

 

Gemma wriggled down inside her sleeping bag and pulled a magazine and a family-sized block of chocolate from her backpack as she got comfortable. She could hear Jerome wandering about outside the tent, his feet crunching on the gravel.

Half-a-dozen squares of chocolate later, she felt better. She wondered what he was doing out there in the rain. When he'd held her in his arms and asked her to go away with him again she had really wanted to say yes. Gemma sighed and closed her magazine.

It was impossible to concentrate when her head was full of Jerome. She pummeled her pillow into shape and rolled on to her back to stare up at the canvas. It was time to face the facts. No matter how much she tried to make out that she was a flirtatious woman of the world out for a good time without any strings, the truth was that simply wasn't her at all.

If she allowed herself to keep on flirting with Jerome and enjoying his kisses she would be well on her way to a broken heart. She shuffled uncomfortably. Who was she trying to kid? Her heart was already likely to be broken by him.

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. Gemma blinked. It wasn't as if she hadn't been warned about Jerome. Nathalie had been clear about her brother's reputation. Jerome had always been up front with her, too, so why had it hurt so much when he'd said he was just out for fun?

Gemma wiped the salty water from her cheek and sniffed. For someone who was supposed to be quite smart, she didn't seem to be doing a very good job when it came down to choosing men. She gazed around the interior of the tent and sighed.

“Gemma, can I come in?”

She dried her eyes quickly with a tissue and sat up. “Yes, of course.”

Jerome unzipped the entrance of the tent and poked his head through the gap. He frowned and squeezed inside. “Your eyes look pink. Have you been crying?”

Gemma moved her legs to make room for him. “There was a sad story in my magazine.” She offered him a piece of her chocolate and hoped he'd buy her explanation.

“Bit different from the last chocolate we shared.” He handed her the rest of the bar back.

She glared at him.

“Sorry.” He had the grace to look abashed as he popped the chocolate into his mouth. “We're still friends, aren't we?”

“I guess. Just not ‘kissing' friends.” Gemma swallowed and forced herself to look composed.

Jerome lifted an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes. I'm out of the dating game for a while. I made a mistake flirting with you and I gave you the wrong impression.”

He was silent for a long moment after she'd spoken. “Gemma, I'd never have the wrong idea about you.” His eyes met hers and a shiver of desire ran along her spine.

“In that case, I know you'll understand why I think it's better if we stay buddies.” She squashed her traitorous feelings flat.

“Friends it is, then,” he agreed.

She couldn't read the emotion in his eyes. “It's getting late. Has the weather improved?”

He shook his head and stretched his legs out next to hers. “I think we'll have to look for tracks tomorrow and pick put the best spots then. It looks as if we'll be getting an early night.”

Gemma wasn't sure if she was relieved or sorry not to be going back out into the fog with Jerome. On the one hand she was relieved to be staying warm, dry and out of temptation by having some space between them. But on the other hand she ached to be with him, sharing his world and feeling his lips on hers.

She realized he was waiting for a response. “That's a shame.”

“The forecast is supposed to be much better in the morning. I promise you we'll have a much better day.” He smiled at her and Gemma felt her heart tighten.

“I guess.”

He gave her a curious glance and scrambled back into a crouched position ready to leave. “I'll wake you in the morning. If you need to go out in the night, come and get me.” For a second she thought he was about to kiss her and her body hummed in anticipation.

“Night, Gemma. Sleep well.”

He zipped the tent-flap closed behind him and Gemma slumped back on her pillow. She wanted to groan out loud but she could still hear him walking about the campsite. Tomorrow. She just had to get through tomorrow, then once they'd got the photos they could go home.

She snuggled back inside her sleeping bag. Once they got home, they'd look back on this expedition and laugh. She could retreat to the safety of the bridal shop, and she wouldn't have to see Jerome except when he called in to visit Nathalie.

The thought didn't comfort her as much as she'd thought it would. She turned off the lamp and rolled on to her side to listen to the unfamiliar sound of the stream running down the hillside on the far side of the camp.

It had been a huge error of judgment to think she could play with fire and not get burned. She just hadn't realized how painful an emotional burn to the heart could be.

* * * *

The next morning, Gemma lay still for a moment before she opened her eyes. The mountain was waking up around her. Birds twittered, the stream babbled and she was certain she could smell bacon.

“Get dressed, sleepyhead. Breakfast in five minutes.”

She shot upright at the sound of Jerome's deep, sexy voice. It was dangerously close to the tent.

“Coming.” She hurried to get dressed, muttering under her breath at the confined space as she attempted to restore some sort of order to her hair before she emerged into bright sunlight.

Jerome was crouched over the tiny camp stove. Stubble lay dark all along his jaw and his hair was spiked in tufts all over his head. He smiled at her as she walked across to him, the dimple in his cheek deepening at her approach.

All the heart searching she'd done before she'd fallen asleep last night had been wasted if he could reduce her to jelly with one smile. Gemma's stomach flipped over at the twinkle in his eyes as he handed her a plate of bacon sandwiches, and she wondered if he could read her thoughts.

“I'll have coffee done in a minute, unless you'd rather have tea?”

Her hand shook as she accepted the plate. “Coffee will be fine.” She wandered over to the flat rock where she'd sat the previous afternoon, glad of the chance to put a little distance between them.

The fog and rain from the night before had disappeared completely, leaving the mountainside clean and sparkling like the set of a motion picture. She half expected Julie Andrews to come careening around the boulders towards her as she looked around at the view. Gemma bit into her breakfast and savored the heat and taste of the bacon.

Jerome swapped the small pan he'd used for the bacon for the water pot. She watched him prepare the mugs for their drinks, and admired the economy of his movements. Aware she was staring, she dragged her eyes away and forced herself to concentrate on a couple of grey rabbits cavorting on the grass just a few feet away from where she sat.

“Looks completely different with the sun shining, doesn't it?” His voice rumbled in her ear and she jumped. He sat down next to her on the rock, his hip and thigh pressed up close to hers.

“It's really beautiful.” She set her plate down on the grass and picked up the coffee he'd brought her. Steam drifted gently from the surface of the liquid as she took a cautious sip. His closeness unnerved her, and the aroma of her drink mingled with the pure male smell of Jerome.

“Are you up for a hike? I thought I might manage to get some casual shots of various things and we can investigate the location of a big badger sett I've been told about. That's where I'm hoping to shoot this evening.” He bit into his sandwich. The movement of his body brushing against her as he raised his arm made her body tingle.

“Sure, sounds great.” She tried to surreptitiously edge a little further along the boulder, to break the connection between them.

Jerome appeared oblivious to her efforts, only taking advantage of the extra room to move further onto the boulder.

“Were you okay in the tent last night? You slept all right?” He glanced at her.

He'd removed the plaster from the cut on his brow, she realized, and she could see where the ugly gash had just begun to heal. Her heart squeezed as she remembered the risks he'd taken and how scared she'd been.

“Yes, I was perfectly comfortable, thank you.” She focused on her drink again, wondering how she could sound so prim when her thoughts were leading her down a very different path indeed.

His eyebrow lifted at her reply. “We'll get cleaned up here and set off then.”

Gemma took another large mouthful of coffee and leapt to her feet. “I'll go and wash up.”

He passed her his empty plate, and his fingers brushing hers sending electricity into her hands. She hurried off to the stream with her cheeks on fire. Hopefully he wouldn't have noticed her reaction.

The pan and plates were soon clean. Once she'd packed them away, she collected her wash-bag and went back to the brook. Gemma enjoyed the shockingly cold sensation of the soft spring water she splashed on to her face invigorating her skin. Perhaps with her head clearer she'd be more in control of her feelings.

Jerome dipped his comb into the stream and flattened the spikes in his hair back to their usual raven's wing smoothness. The growth of beard, dark against his jaw, gave him a dangerous air. He straightened up and faced her like a mediaeval knight who'd stepped out of time into the Cumbrian countryside.

“Aren't you going to shave today?” Gemma ached to reach out and touch his face, to ruffle his hair with her fingers and to claim his mouth with hers.

He stroked his chin as if he'd forgotten all about the stubble. “Sorry, I never bring any shaving gear with me when I'm on a field trip. Good job we're not in civilized society.”

He strode off back towards his tent with his towel over his shoulder. Gemma swallowed hard before picking up her own towel and following him.

With all the equipment stowed safely inside the tents, Jerome handed her a small bag of filters, film and lenses to carry. He shouldered a much bulkier bag that contained the rest of his equipment and some bottles of water and fruit for their hike.

“How far are we going?” Gemma wiggled her toes inside her walking boots and hoped it wouldn't be uphill all the way.

“I've plotted out a five-mile round circuit. The badgers are about a half a mile away, but there's a copse the rangers said gets visited regularly by deer, so I'm hoping to get some shots there.”

Five miles didn't sound too bad, especially if they would be stopping for photographs. Before, when she had belonged to the rambling club, she'd often walked fifteen to twenty miles. She ignored the reminder from her conscience that the last time she'd done a decent walk had been before she'd met Carl. That had been the start of her giving up her hobbies just to be with him.

Gemma set off alongside Jerome, still deep in thought. Why had she been so ready to abandon all her interests for Carl? At the time she'd thought it had been out of love, but her feelings for him were just a pale shadow of everything she already felt for Jerome.

The realization made her stumble on the rabbit path as they skirted the brow of the hill.

“Am I walking too fast for you?” He slowed his pace, his expression concerned.

“No, I'm fine.” She flashed him a smile of reassurance. Her skin tingled, hot and prickly with the force of her discovery. She couldn't have fallen in love with Jerome. That would be stupid - no -
worse
than stupid. It would be like pressing a self-destruct button, because he'd already warned her he wasn't about to fall in love with her.

* * * *

Jerome wondered what Gemma was thinking. Her face reflected her emotions as clearly as the landscape around them reflected the seasons. Things had felt awkward between them ever since the previous evening when she had stepped out of his embrace and retreated to her tent. Sometimes he thought he caught her looking at him in a way that gave him hope. But then she would turn away and the moment passed.

“That's an amazing view.” Gemma halted and stood gazing down at the valley far below them. The edge of one of the small lakes reflected the clear blue sky above their heads while the road trailed like a strip of licorice along the floor of the valley between the greenery of the trees.

A light breeze ruffled her brown curls and her cheeks were rosy with exertion.

“It won't be like that for much longer if Gerald Shakespeare has his way. The flat area near the lake shore is part of Maggie's Fell.”

“You're kidding! There can't be any way that the government would allow him to develop that ground. Surely it's protected.” Gemma looked indignant.

Jerome pulled a bottle of water from his pack and took a long draught. “You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I've seen the plan for a tourist village, shopping area and a light manufacturing unit.” He handed her the other bottle of water.

She shook her head. “That's disgusting. I can't believe anyone could support that scheme.”

“This area is short of jobs and Gerald makes big promises about affordable homes and bringing sustainable wealth to the region. A few rare bats and newts and an incredible natural resource aren't going to cut much ice against the kind of economic arguments that he puts up.” He watched her take a drink from the bottle.

“Thanks.” She closed the top and passed it back to him. “Then we'd better do a good job with these pictures if we're to convince people of everything they stand to lose if Gerald gets his way.”

His pulse quickened as she smiled at him. It felt good to be sharing the problems of Maggie's Fell with someone who understood and sympathized with his point of view.

He led the slow descent towards the area of woodland he'd been assured the deer frequented regularly. He soon spotted signs of recent activity. After checking the wind direction, he picked a cozy spot sheltered by bracken, where he and Gemma could stop. Gemma settled herself back with her magazine while he prepared his camera.

He loved the way she instinctively understood the need for silence, making no demands on him for company while they waited for the deer to make an appearance.

A rustle in the undergrowth alerted him to their approach and he touched her arm. A lone deer wandered into the clearing, its head held high sniffing the air for any sign of danger. Jerome focused his camera and began to fire off shots. The animal seemed to listen and he wondered if it had heard the faint click of the camera.

As swiftly as it had come into view, it walked across the copse in front of them and disappeared into the trees, the reddish hue of its skin providing perfect camouflage in the dappled sunlight.

“Did you get the shot?” Gemma shuffled on the bracken.

“Hope so. I've some that looked promising. It's sometimes hard to tell till I get into the lab and see the results on the screen.” He stretched out his legs from where they had started to cramp from spending so long in the same position. “We should push on and see if we can find the badger sett.”

He stood up and extended a hand to help Gemma to her feet. The touch of her small hand in his sent a thrill along his spine.

“Lead on, then.” Her voice sounded breathy and her face appeared flushed as she grabbed her bag and prepared to follow him.

They continued through the wood and he took some nice shots of other small birds and animals along the way. The directions he'd been given to the sett proved accurate and they found the earth bank with its entrance and exit holes without any difficulty.

“It looks quite large,” Gemma said.

“The badgers have been here for a number of years. The rangers work hard to keep the location quiet. There are still some idiots that think badger-baiting with dogs is an acceptable sport.”

She wrinkled her nose with a look of distaste at his words. “Sometimes people make me sick.”

They surveyed the area around the sett, being careful not to get too close as any trace of their scent might stop the animals from coming out in a few hours' time.

Once they had identified a good place to set up for the evening shots, they set off on the last stretch of the walk back to camp to grab a rest break before returning for the vigil.

The hairs on the nape of Jerome's neck prickled up in warning even before their campsite came into view. Bile rose in his throat as he saw that the contents of the bags they had zipped so carefully inside their tents that morning were now strewn all around the camp.