Where The Heart Is. Kate Hardy

Where The Heart Is - Kate Hardy


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of cornbread—but he was still aware of her, of every single movement she made.

      When they turned in for the night, his senses were at white heat. He swore softly. What was it about Rowena that had crashed through his barriers? He never, but never, let anyone ruffle his composure like this. Never let himself feel that fierce ache of wanting. Never let himself wonder how soft her mouth would feel under his. Never lay there fantasising about just how well his body would fit into hers.

      Hell. He’d turned into a hormone-crazed teenager in the space of a few seconds. How could it have happened? He was supposed to be the responsible, sober medical officer—the man who was friendly to the trekkers, kept their spirits up when they flagged, and sorted out any medical problems quickly and efficiently. He’d worked out here for a year. He could do the job in his sleep.

      But now, here he was, concocting steamy fantasies about the woman in the tent next to his. Picturing her straddling him, her head thrown back in abandon as he slid inside her. Imagining the taste of her skin. Rubbing his tongue along his lower lip as if she’d just nibbled it. Hell, he could almost feel her mouth trailing over his throat, over his pecs, moving slowly south until—

      ‘Stop it,’ he told himself, and rolled over onto his front. He squeezed his eyelids shut, gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms. This was a bad case of lust. It was probably only happening because he’d been celibate for the last eighteen months. It was just a physiological thing. It’d pass.

      He hoped.

      The next morning, the group set off on the way to Lake Pehoé.

      ‘I’m glad this first bit’s so flat,’ Carly confided to Rowena as they walked together. ‘I was hoping we’d ease in gently. I mean, I trained in that huge climbing centre in North London and even managed to work up to a couple of levels above the novice climbing walls, but at the end of the day it’s not like doing the real thing, is it?’

      Rowena grinned. ‘I think I was luckier, in Manchester. At least I had easy access to the Peak District and the Pennines.’

      ‘Well, I’m not going to moan. I’ll try not to, anyway,’ Carly said. ‘I’m doing this for Shanna.’

      ‘Shanna?’ Rowena asked gently.

      ‘My niece. She’s eight. She had leukaemia, but she’s in remission at the moment.’ For a moment, Carly’s lip wobbled. ‘She’s my sister’s only child. An IVF baby.’ She gulped. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that she should have leukaemia.’

      It wasn’t fair that Peggy had had it either. ‘Leukaemia isn’t fair,’ Rowena said softly. ‘But Shanna’s young. There’s a good chance she’ll be fine.’ Unlike Peggy.

      ‘I’ve read up on it,’ Carly said. Her eyes were bleak. ‘If she’s one of the unlucky ones…’

      ‘Hey. Don’t think that way. And you’re here, aren’t you? The money you’re raising is going to help find a cure. You’re doing something positive about it.’

      ‘Yeah. And I shouldn’t be moaning. I came here to…well, to get away from it for a while, as well as to raise money for the cause.’

      Me, too, Rowena thought. Though it wasn’t quite working. Even though the scenery around them was stupendous—they were walking alongside the Lago del Toro, under the shadows of the peaks of the Torres Massif—the pain wasn’t going away. The emptiness. The need she’d sworn she’d never let herself feel again.

      ‘Morning. How’s it going?’ a soft voice asked, and Rowena nearly stumbled. Damn. Why couldn’t she have some kind of early warning radar where Luke MacKenzie was concerned?

      Carly blushed. ‘We’re fine—aren’t we, Rowena? This is an amazing place. Oh, by the way, I’m Carly.’

      ‘Luke MacKenzie, trek medical officer.’ He took her outstretched hand, shook it and smiled at her.

      She gaped. ‘You don’t look like a doctor.’

      He grinned. ‘A white coat wouldn’t stay pristine for long out here. Besides, it wouldn’t be warm enough.’

      ‘Mmm, I didn’t think it’d be this chilly.’

      ‘Chilly in Chile.’ He smiled at her. ‘Did you sleep well?’

      ‘Not bad. Though doubtless tonight, after our first proper day of hiking, I’ll be out like a light,’ she said wryly.

      ‘And you, Rowena?’

      Rowena had hoped that he’d keep talking to Carly, that she’d be able to slide away very gently and walk on her own, leave them to chat together. But it was as if Luke had guessed her intention and wanted to stop her. ‘Fine,’ she muttered. Actually, she hadn’t slept well. And when she had slept, she’d dreamed. Dreamed really X-rated stuff, involving a certain dark-eyed man, which had made her unable to meet his eyes that morning at breakfast.

      He was probably used to women throwing themselves at him. Well, she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself and add her name to the list. Definitely not.

      ‘What’s that animal over there?’ Carly asked, pointing at a shaggy, light brown animal.

      To Rowena’s relief, Luke switched into guide mode. ‘It’s a Patagonian guanaco—you’ll see a lot of them in the national park. They’re a sort of wild relative of the Andean llama,’ he explained. He told them more about the trees, too, the lenga and coigue.

      ‘And the park’s name—does it mean “towers of pain” because the trek can be tough?’ Carly asked.

      He chuckled. ‘Not exactly. “Paine” is a Tehuelche Indian word for “blue” —that’s the colour of the water and the colour of the ice. You’ll also see the Cuernos del Paine, when we get to Lake Pehoé—they’re granite towers, called “the horns” because of their shape.’ He grinned. ‘Though there’s a great legend about how they were formed. They were made by an evil serpent called Cai Cai, who caused a flood which killed the warrior tribe in the region. The snake turned their bodies into stone and then created the horns.’

      ‘I see.’ Carly nodded.

      ‘You’ll see a lot, over the next few days,’ Luke told her. ‘In the forests around here, it’s a birdwatcher’s paradise—catitas, woodpeckers, long-tailed meadowlarks and the great horned owl. Plus you’ll see condors, glaciers…and I think you’ll like Lake Pehoé.’

      ‘Just don’t go swimming in it?’ Carly guessed.

      He grinned, and Rowena had a vision of Luke swimming in the lake in the Andean summer. He’d be confident in the glacial waters, disappearing under the surface and emerging like a seal, his hair slicked back and shining wetly in the sun. And then…

      ‘Rowena?’

      ‘Uh, sorry. I thought I saw a condor,’ she lied. She just hoped that Luke hadn’t been able to read her thoughts. But when she glanced at him, she had the nasty feeling that he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

      And that he’d been thinking along the same lines.

      Wet, bare skin.

      This was crazy. She didn’t do relationships. Not long term, not short term. Nothing. Nada, as he would say. So why did she have the hots for a man she barely knew, a man she’d never see again after the trek was over?

      To her relief, he let them walk on and moved to the group following them, chatting lightly to them. Then she realised what he was doing. Assessing the walkers, checking if anyone was having difficulty, who might need more help, who was a potential medical case. Exactly what she would have done, in his position. Putting his job first.

      She liked that. She liked it a lot. And that made it even harder to stay away from him. Though she knew she ought to, for her peace of mind.

      After a lunch of empanadas—a minced beef pastry which also contained tomato, raisins and hard-boiled


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