Liz lay with her stomach to the ground, digging inch by inch in a twenty-four by twenty-four inch plot. The tedious work allowed her mind to replay and replay what had happened between her and Hawk, and she couldn’t deny why she’d done it””or how badly she wanted a repeat performance. He’d risked his life for hers, a possibility not every woman got the opportunity to test, and he was honest. Package that in six feet of bronzed steel, and she didn’t stand a chance. Coming here had been a huge mistake.
A shadow fell across her, and she glanced up. Hawk stood over her.
“Lunchtime.” He lifted a soft-cover cooler. “I’ll share.”
The sun glared behind him in a blaze of orange that emphasized his angular face and the patch of tanned chest visible above the open collar of his white shirt. Her pulse skipped a beat. She had to quit now while she still had the ability to do so. He bent, and Liz glimpsed determination in his eyes as he grasped her arm. Awareness jumpstarted her heart when his fingers tightened and he pulled her up. He kept a light but firm hold as she stepped over the twine that separated the dig from the rest of the desert.
Liz glanced at the students who sat crosslegged in the shade of the nearest pillar. They were absorbed in food and each other.
“Hawk,” she began.
“Over here,” he cut.
Liz sighed and allowed him to lead her to the pillars on the opposite side of the small compound. He stopped within the broad strips of shade cast by the cluster of large stones.
“I really think”””
“It’s lunch, Liz. What do you expect to happen?” Her cheeks warmed, and he laughed. “Fair enough. But you can relax. As much as I’d like to pick up where we left off, I won’t touch you in plain view of the students.”
Her stomach gelled. There was no missing the implication that, once they were out of sight, he would touch her again. He gently urged her to sit, and she complied, as much out of a desire not to embarrass herself as the fact that she feared her legs would give way. Hawk opened the cooler and pulled out a napkin, then laid bottled water, barbecued chicken, cornbread, fresh tomatoes, and chocolate chip cookies on the cloth.
“You do come prepared,” she said.
He grinned. “A man gets hungry out here.” “So does a woman,” she had to admit.
“I didn’t bring plates,” he said. “Just dig in with your fingers.”
She opened a bottle of water, dribbled a few drops on her hands, then wiped them on the dusty coveralls, only to have the dust turn muddy.
“You spend enough time out here, and you’ll have dust in your veins instead of blood,” Hawk said.
Liz grimaced. “I think I’m halfway there.”
She grabbed a chicken leg, then leaned back against the stone and bit into the meat. The tang of the barbecue sauce burst across her tongue.
“Perfect.”
He nodded. “Nothing better than cold barbecue.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Liz said, “I’m surprised you’re in the field. Isn’t bioarchaeology conducted in a lab?”
Hawk took a swig of water and washed down the ample slice of cornbread he’d eaten. “It is. But this is where it all begins.” He stretched out his legs and crossed ankle over ankle. “You can’t know the material you’re analyzing until you see where it comes from, feel the dirt on your fingers.” He lifted a hand and looked at his dark fingers. “And beneath your fingernails.” He released a slow breath, his gaze on the desert that stretched out before them.
“There’s nothing like being out here.” His eyes
shifted to her. “Plus, I like getting dirty.”
Liz startled, then snorted. “Very funny. What got you into archaeology?”
He dug a thigh from the plastic tub. “Two pieces of damned good luck.” He bit into the chicken.
“What do you mean?”
“A history teacher and one tenacious ASU archaeology professor. Not many kids who grow up on reservations make it into graduate programs.”
Mortification warmed her cheeks. “Hawk, I”””
He shook his head. “You didn’t say anything wrong.”
“I didn’t even think about it,” she said.
“That’s not a bad thing””not totally. You didn’t stereotype me.”
“Who could possibly stereotype you?” He chuckled. “I guess they don’t know me the way you do.”
This time, heat pooled between her legs and tugged hard.
He took another bite of chicken. “What about you? What do you do?”
“I manage a clothing manufacturing plant.”
His brows rose. “Tough job.”
She thought of the phone call she would have to make tomorrow to GFW Industries if they forestalled the payment due to Leland Industries, and laughed. “It has its moments.” Liz grimaced. “But I’m much more boring than you are.”
“You’re anything but boring, sweetheart.” Fire burned in his eyes.
Her heart skipped. “I”¦I”¦ Stop looking at me like that.”
“I plan to do a lot more than look, first chance I get.”
Moisture dampened her panties. “You
promised to be good.”
“You’re sitting twelve inches from me, Liz. I am being good.”
“Your students don’t have to hear us to guess what we’re talking about,” she said. “It’s written all over your face, for God’s sake.”
“There’s plenty of privacy on the other side of
that southwest pillar,” he replied matter-of-factly. She gaped. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I’m a helluva lot more than that.”
Damn him, he was. She grabbed her water and took a long swig.
“You must want me bad to need that water.”
She choked, then spewed water. Water sucked down her windpipe. She wheezed.
Hawk gave her a hearty slap on the back. “You okay?”
Her vision blurred, but she still discerned the amusement and satisfaction in his eyes. Liz opened her mouth to tell him to take a flying leap. Instead, she dragged in another harsh breath. “Breathe easy,” he coaxed. She shot him a dark look.
“It’s not my fault.” He rubbed gentle circles on her back.
The constriction in her throat eased. She took a small sip of water and was rewarded with a cooling sensation on the way down. She released a breath and wiped at the moisture in the corners of her eyes. “Next time, take it easy with the water,” he said.
“Next time, I’ll take you over my knee.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “Promise?”
She groaned, tore a hunk off the chicken leg with her teeth, and wondered what it would be like to do the same to him.
—
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