“Artless and bootless.” She angrily picked up each branch and leaf and tucked them into the crook of her arm. “That’s what you are. In more ways than one.”

She slid backward until the slope became flat and then she whirled around. Robert stood a handsbreadth from her. Startled, she stumbled, branches flew and her body slid against his.

Her world was instantly, aggressively, taken over by the smell of hot male and cedar and the feel of sweat-covered skin. Her fingers clawed down shoulder muscles she’d stared at all day. Her breasts burned, her legs tangled. She teetered and pressed harder for support.

Robert inhaled, sharply, as if he’d been dropped into an icy lake. He ripped himself away.