Fin knelt beside the river, this time with Jase helping her rinse out the jars. Breakfast had been a thrown-together bacon and cheese omelet with a dark-roasted coffee, just the way she liked it.

Jase kept a steady chatter about baseball, of all things. He loved the game, though why he felt he needed to share with her, she couldn't say. She let him ramble on as she relived last night with Duke. She smothered a snort. Who named their son Duke? Was Prince or King taken? Regardless of his name, that man was as delicious as roasted marshmallows. She wanted to gobble him up then spend a few minutes licking her lips.

Taking in a shuddering breath, she forced the heat coiling up from her core to cool. Daydreaming about a man was about it for her. Not that he had shown much interest, but to be fair, she wouldn't know he liked her until he wore neon lights and danced around in the buff.

She grinned, stealing Duke's tatts peeking out of his T-shirt, and allocating it to her next male character. Mm, maybe he would be in the mafia but not committed to it. She couldn't deal with all that violence. Blood was fine, so a little of that wouldn't go amiss.

He would meet a woman who wouldn't know who he was or his reputation. Someone from Africa? She had always wanted to visit that continent. If she added extra energy into cleaning the last jar, she could sneak in a few minutes of writing before she would need to lead this testosterone-high crew across the river.

"Thanks, Jase. That about does it." She gathered the jars and utensils, ending him mid-ramble. "So, are you all baseball fanatics?"

"Fin, how can you not know who the Vikings are?" Jase trailed her, but his shock was easy to discern without meeting his gaze.

She shrugged. "Vikings are big, burly warriors, capable of removing the head from your shoulders with a single swing of their ax."

"What?"

Chuckling, she ignored him gasping behind her, as she lowered jars and utensils beside each dismantled tent. She had left Dad to oversee that part of camp since he would leave her soon, as she had left him to entertain their clients last night. Poor Mom had planned a surprise romantic dinner that she had to postpone. She had made Dad's favorite, pulled pork lasagna.

Dismantling her tent, she set to folding it into its bag. She had rolled her sleeping bag and packed her backpack before starting on breakfast.

"What happens now?"

At that deep timbre, her heart leaped into her throat, and a squeak escaped past her lips. She dropped her tent and teetered, but two warm hands gripped her hips and yanked her against a solid wall of muscle. She stilled, nibbling on her bottom lip as she debated raising her gaze to her savior.

Summoning a smile, she twisted and lost her breath on a strangled gasp. Duke stared at her with a smoky intensity in his baby-blue gaze that her body recognized. Heat flooded through her from the tips of her ears to settle between her thighs. Had she been more comfortable around him, she would have laughed away her reaction. She didn't know him, and being this close to him raised the hairs across her body. Where he stood, what he was saying, and where his gaze rested never went amiss.

He had asked her a question.

She blinked, layering her hands over his fingers gripping her hips. "Um..." She licked her lips, and his focus dipped to her mouth as if mesmerized. Lust darkened, whispered, and demanded as it uncoiled in her core. The absurdity that he might find her attractive summoned her sense of humor, and she grinned. Her sanity returned like a snapping of an elastic band. "Across the river. Up for it?"

He cleared his throat and lowered his hands before gazing out at the river. "I am if you are." A slow smile crawled across his sensual lips and scattered her thoughts once again. Leaping lizards, the man was lethal. Was she staring at him? Did he notice? Was her cheeks bright red as if she chewed on burning lumps of coal?

"We mounted a cable between two gum poles." She dipped her chin to her chest to hide her fascination, keeping her twitching hands busy. She wanted to run her fingers through his dark chocolate-colored hair. "We modified a canoe, so we can pull ourselves across the river with minimal effort." She clipped her tent and sleeping bag to the base of the backpack wishing he would wander off and leave her be.

He didn't.

Her spine tingled as if he stared at her.

"Quit being silly," she huffed.

"About?"

Closing her eyes, she prayed he wasn't still standing behind her watching her shove her ass in the air as she finished packing.

She faced him, plastered on a bright smile, and bounced on her toes, trying to appear as excited as normal. "Just having a private conversation. Didn't you mama teach you not to eavesdrop?"

"I didn't have a mama."

"Oh!" Pressing her hands to her cheeks, she gaped at him. "I'm so sorry."

He grinned, and she cursed him. Here she was apologizing while he beamed at her like an idiot. Not to mention his knee-weakening smile, with his white teeth denting his bottom lip. Gambling gorillas!

"I had two fathers. I'm adopted."

She swallowed her tongue under his vigilance. "You must have been an adorable baby." Pinching her lips shut, she darted around him to herd her clients toward the riverbank.

"Ready for this?" Dad gathered her into his arms to press a kiss to her temple.

"Dad, not you too!" She growled into his shirt, tempted to punch him on the arm if she could reach there.

He chuckled. "I mean the river, sweetheart. The weather reports warned of rain farther upriver."

"Oh, it looks its usual turbulent self." She shrugged, which was hard in the tight grip he had. Dad was a good hugger, and she loved that about him. He didn't tell her he loved her. He showed her in the shoulder pats, ruffled hair, and kissed temples. Nuzzling her nose across his T-shirt to soothe an itch, she tugged, asking for release.

"So, up the mountain, skirting the windward side, heading south-west toward Old Margot's cabin, then east along Monkfail. Alex will meet you at the crossing."

"Yeah, yeah, the usual, Dad. Why so nervous?" She pulled forward, and they walked arm-in-arm toward the river. "And no stopping at Vincent Falls this time. I want this trip done. I can't wait to snuggle in front of the fire this winter."

"Are you going to see Sam again?" Dad wiggled his eyebrows.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "As much as l love a man in uniform, Sam's fireman outfit doesn't do it for me."

"What? When he's on those silly calendars every year?" Laughter rumbled through his chest until he leaned back to release it. It stampeded through the morning air and summoned an answering smile from Fin.

"I've known him since kindergarten, Dad, but I can't see us being more than friends."

"He's hoping otherwise." He grabbed the canoe and started tugging it toward the water's edge. Dodging the deep furrow it carved in the wet sand, she hurried to help him, anything to avoid acknowledging that pointed look.

Sighing, she dropped the canoe and connected the brackets to the cable. "I'll talk to him again."

"Better yet, date someone else."

She laughed and let it fizzle into a cheeky grin. "Yeah, right. I'll just pick one from all the hopefuls. I mean, who won't love a sensual, curvaceous body like mine?" She spun on the muddy sand, swinging her hips, and thrusting out her breasts with a batter of her eyelashes.

Dad shook his head despite the matching grin splitting his cheeks. "Silly monkey."

Not worried that anyone would overhear their conversation above the roaring river, she blew her father a kiss and faced the men. They gathered in twos and threes, joking, and batting imaginary balls.

Bouncing between them, she gestured to the canoe. "One by one, I will pull you across the river. Who's brave enough to test the fury of the Mighty Matacona?"

Six pairs of eyes blinked at her, except for Duke whose gaze had darkened with an intensity she found mesmerizing. Releasing a slow breath, she kept her smile in place by sheer willpower.

"I'll go first." Duke's deep voice supercharged her poor heart, spiking electricity to her extremities.

She nodded and darted to the canoe. "Dump your backpack alongside mine and climb in."

He unclipped his pack and lowered it beside hers, but he didn't climb in. Instead, he gripped the side of the canoe and helped her push it the final stretch into the water. The river slapped at the boat more than usual, but she ignored it, blaming her rising nausea on the proximity of the man consuming the space in the canoe with his massive bulk.

Once they were in, she tugged on the cable and started the crossing. The pulley system smoothed the crossing when it used to put so much strain on her arms. The canoe lurched, and she swung her focus up the river. Had the water level risen?

Duke crowded her and grabbed the cable, matching her rhythm as he tugged. The canoe cut through the water faster, but dread intensified and darkened inside her that had nothing to do with his masculine cologne. She paused, stalling the crossing two-thirds of the way. Underneath the roar of the river was a growing rumble and with it, a rising panic flicked her gaze at Duke then her father on the riverbank.

She pointed upriver, and above the deafening roar, screamed at Duke to pull harder. He did, no questions asked. The bank was so close. If they reached the other side, they could wait out the flash flood.

Cold water sprayed across her face, and she snuck another glance upriver.

"Duke!" The warning came too late as a dirty-brown tidal wave hit the side of the canoe, drenching them. The little boat should be fine since the cable secured it. They were not as safe, and she grabbed at the sides as the force of the wave, along with the detritus from a mudslide tried to flip them into the water. Large, splintered logs slammed against the side, rocking the boat. The backpacks bobbed down the river, bright colors of hopelessness.

Drowned-rat Duke crept across the canoe to her, rocking it further, then looped an arm around her to tug her against him. "We should make a leap for it, Fin."

She nodded, shivering as another wave broke against the side of the canoe which had tilted and now pooled more water. But before they could choose their dunking, the water rose and surged, and tossed them. The cold snatched her breath as the water currents swept her under. She paddled for the surface, fighting the rising panic as objects knocked the air out of her lungs and tugged on her clothing.

Her lungs burned with the need to breathe, and as she broke the surface, she sucked in air. The flow's force carried her down the river at a fast pace, but she couldn't see Duke. Fear, colder than the water, settled in her bones. She screamed his name, wasting her breath since whatever noise she made, the river swallowed before it dunked her again. Something snagged her shirt, and she struggled against it, kicking at it. But it held firm.

This was it. This was how she would die. Drowned near her beloved mountain. She stopped struggling, accepting her fate as her tears merged with the river. Breaking through the surface, she sucked in another breath, expecting another dunk. Instead, something dragged her across the flow. A warm arm wrapped across her chest, and she opened her eyes to Duke's pale face inches from hers. She had never seen anyone more beautiful.

"I've got you, Fin."