“I used to think my yoga and spinning classes were brutal,” she murmured, “but those last two hours really kicked my ass. I think I need a transfusion.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, princess, everyone’s ass is kicked.”

She peeked her eyes open and noticed that all the other hikers were also sprawled on the ground. It offered little comfort that Ashley, who was probably a good ten years younger than her, looked as wrung-out as Kayla felt. They exchanged weak smiles, then Kayla’s gaze fell upon their guide.

“Everyone’s ass is kicked except Paolo’s. And his siblings.” She regarded the four Trucero siblings with a baleful, yet grudgingly respectful look. “They all appear fresh and energetic and probably could have sprinted up the damn trail.”

“They’re used to the altitude.”

“Right. It’s solely the altitude that has my thighs screaming and my back weeping.”

“Well, that’s my excuse. And I’m sticking to it.”

After a simple but delicious lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, the group started out once again. Before picking up her backpack, Kayla rubbed her lower back and shot the heavy load of crap-as she not so affectionately called it-a dirty look.

“If all this damn hiking doesn’t make my ass smaller, I’m going to write a very strongly worded letter of complaint to the Inca Trail authorities.”

“There is nothing wrong with your ass,” Brett assured her.

“Right. Except that it feels like it’s dragging on the ground. And, according to Paolo, aka Mr. Susie Sunshine, we haven’t yet even hit the most difficult part of the day’s hike.”

“We’re now about to embark on the most rigorous and punishing segment of our journey,” said Mr. Susie Sunshine, and Kayla barely managed not to groan. Rigorous and punishing. Sooo not the two words her already abused muscles wanted to hear.

“The terrain will change from light woodland to scrub, and then to grassland and bare slope, growing ever more rugged until we reach the highest point on the trail at nearly fourteen thousand feet, Abra de Huarmihuanusqa, or Dead Woman’s Pass. The origin of the name is unknown.”

“Seems self-explanatory to me,” Kayla said, in an undertone to Brett. “Unfortunately.”

They started off and Kayla quickly realized that punishing and rigorous were understatements. She would have used torturous and grueling. The going was slow, the thin air forcing numerous thirty-second breaks. The sun scorched down in brutal, relentless rays, baking them, only for the weather to abruptly change to freezing winds as they neared the summit.

She might have voiced her misery out loud, but she simply didn’t have the energy or lung power to do so. All her efforts and strength were required to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Yet, despite the harshly exhausting conditions, everyone in the group took comfort in that they were all in this together. Clearly misery did love company, and it made it easier to bear the hardship knowing she wasn’t alone.

When they finally reached the summit, the bedraggled, exhausted hikers all exchanged hugs and high fives. After a well-deserved rest complete with another light snack, they readied themselves to begin the steep descent into the valley toward Pacamayo, where they’d camp for the night.

Kayla took one last look back at the trail from which they’d come. “Never in my life have I done anything that draining or intense,” she told Brett.

“Same here. I’m proud of you, princess. I didn’t hear a single complaint.”

“Who had air to spare to complain? And I’m proud of you, too. Of all of us. Including myself. When I get home, I’m going to have a custom T-shirt made-I hiked to Dead Woman’s Pass and it didn’t kill me. At least not completely.”

Any hope she’d harbored that the descent into the valley would be less strenuous evaporated within minutes. The path descended sharply, on uneven, complicated stone steps that required close concentration. The only part that was noticeably easier was that the air became a bit less thin as they approached the valley.

By the time they arrived in Pacamayo, they’d hiked nearly seven miles-about the same distance as the day before. But today’s journey felt like seventy miles in comparison.

When they finally stopped, Kayla shrugged off her backpack, allowing it simply to thump to the ground. She instantly followed suit then curled into a fetal position and whimpered, “I am one with the dirt. Go on without me. Save yourself.”

She heard Brett chuckle, then hiss out a curse. “Please, do not make me laugh.” A long, deep groan followed, and she pried open one eye and watched him lower himself to the ground next to her. Using his backpack as a back rest, he reached out and plucked up her limp form with an ease that majorly impressed her. She couldn’t have plucked up so much as a daisy if her life had depended on it. He settled her in his lap, and she curled against him, her head flopping like a rag doll’s on his chest.

“Why aren’t you half-dead like me?” she asked.

“I’m pretty tired.”

“Pretty tired? I left ‘pretty tired’ behind about six miles ago. I don’t want to be a whiner, but my God, everything hurts. My hair hurts. My eyebrows hurt. Even my earlobes hurt. Parts of me I didn’t even know I had ache. There is not one bit of balance in my life-only profound soreness. Whose crazy idea was this anyway?” A moan escaped her. “I knew I should have gone to the Caribbean to find my balance. No change, no gain? What a pile of pain-filled hooey.”

His chuckle shook his chest. “Poor princess. You’ve really been a trooper. I haven’t heard a complaint all day. Of course, you’re making up for it now, but since everybody’s lying on the ground in various stages of moaning and groaning, I won’t hold it against you. And lucky for you, I know just the thing to make you feel better.”

“You have a morphine drip handy?”

“’Fraid not. But I do have what you need.”

“I’d ask what that is, but I’m too busy trying to remember how to say ‘Where’s the hospital?’ in Spanish.”

“As luck would have it, I’m a doctor. And I give excellent physical therapy.”

“You’re not a medical doctor, and the only thing I’m physically capable of right now is…nothing. Okay, here’s a sentence I never thought I’d say, especially to an exceptionally hot and willing guy-I’m too tired for sex.”

“Compliment of ‘exceptionally hot’ noted and appreciated. But I wasn’t talking about sex. I was talking about a back rub. After I’m done, you’ll feel brand-new.”

“Brand-new would be nice. Because old, battered, aching, creaky and sore really sucks.”

“Fear not. I’ll rub away all your aches and pains.”

“Gotta warn ya, you’ll be rubbing for a really long time.”

His lips brushed against her temple, warm and comforting. “A really long time,” he repeated softly. “That’s what I’m counting on, princess.”

18

“HOW DOES THAT FEEL, princess?”

Ensconced in his small tent, Brett smiled at the long pleasure-filled sigh that constituted Kayla’s response. He continued to smooth his hands down her bare back, alternating long, gliding strokes with a circular kneading motion, working out the soreness and kinks.

He felt surprisingly well, considering the brutal workout of today’s hike. Of course, the warm shower after a hearty dinner had helped considerably toward reviving him. Not that there were any facilities here, other than the same bathroom-tent set-up as last night. But tonight, instead of “showering” with ice-cold river water, Ana had heated large pots of water so that everyone had gotten a bucket of warm water with which to bathe away the day’s dirt and sweat and strain.

A combination of pity and amusement curved his lips as he recalled how piteously grateful Kayla had been for the steaming water, with Eileen and Ashley not far behind in their gratitude. The men had been just as grateful-just less gushy than the ladies.

As he had last night, Alberto had directed them to a private area where they stripped. He’d held up Kayla’s bucket for her, tilting it to produce a thin stream of warm water under which she gratefully soaped up and rinsed. The air was chilled with a brisk breeze and they hadn’t lingered, just washed and dressed in clean clothes, then made their way back to the campsite.

The tents had been set up while they showered, and after dinner they’d bade the other hikers-all of whom were dragging their tired butts to their own tents-good night.

Once he and Kayla were inside his tent, Brett had secured the flap. Space was tight, but he had no objection to sharing a cozy space with her. She’d flopped facedown onto his sleeping bag and expelled a long moan.

“I may never move again,” she’d whispered.

“You don’t have to. Just relax.”

“Relax. Okay, good thing you told me that ’cause otherwise I would have hopped up and jogged a few miles.”

Chuckling softly, he’d stripped her of her clothes, then removed his T-shirt, but kept on his sweat pants. Straddling the backs of her thighs, he’d asked, “Do you have any sort of lotion in your backpack?”

“Front zipper compartment. Unscented stuff, so as not to attract bugs or snakes or whatever other creepy crawlers might be slithering about.”

“Good thinking.”

He’d located a tube bearing the La Fleur symbol and after squeezing some into his hand, rubbed his palms together to warm the lotion, then started slowly massaging his way down her back.

Now, twenty minutes later, she was showing small signs of life.

“That feels sooo goood,” she said as he worked out the tight knots in her shoulders. “If I’m ever able to rise from this spot, I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“Looking forward to that. But I’m fine. Let’s just focus on getting you whipped back into shape.”

“Okay. I’ll give you three days to quit massaging me. Not a minute more. Really. If you haven’t stopped by then, I’ll have to call the cops.”

“I’m not too worried. You don’t know how to call the cops in Spanish.”

“Oh. Right. So I guess you’ll just have to stop on your own after the three days are up.”

“Deal.”

“Have I told you what a nice man you are?”

“Twice. But hey, I like hearing it, so feel free.”

“You’re a very nice man.”

“Thank you.”

“Who has very nice, very talented hands.”

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

“Trolling for compliments?”

“Let’s just say I’d be willing to listen to any flattery you might want to toss my way.”

“You’re very smart. And strong. And thanks to you and the shower you gave me and this incredible massage, I may actually be able to move in the morning.”

“My pleasure.” His hands slowly rubbed their way down toward the base of her spine. “Anything else?”

One green eye peeked at him over her shoulder. “You mean other than sexy and witty and sexy and gorgeous and sexy?” She resettled her head against her folded arms. “Nah, I think that about covers everything.”

“You’re very nice, too, you know.”

For several seconds she stiffened under his hands. “I…I’m glad you think so.”

“I do. And you know that whole sexy, witty, sexy, gorgeous, sexy thing you said about me? Well, same goes, princess.”

And speaking of gorgeous and sexy…his gaze followed his hands’ path down the smooth, pale skin on her back, pausing over several scatterings of gilt freckles, skimming lower, until he gently kneaded her rounded buttocks. A prolonged mmm escaped her and she lifted her butt into his touch. Given the spectacular view, he was already as hard as steel, but his body reacted immediately, tightening further at her movement. He hadn’t really considered what sweet torture this massage would be for him.

Forcing himself to put aside his growing need and continue his ministrations, he shifted, nudging her thighs apart, then resettled himself on his knees between her spread legs. Squeezing out another generous dollop of lotion, he massaged her hips, then made his way down each shapely leg, manipulating the backs of her thighs and calves. Her long, soft moans of approval told him he was hitting all the right spots.

“Feel good?” he asked, working the arch of her foot with strong sweeping strokes of his thumbs.

“Good doesn’t begin to describe it. I think my toes just had an orgasm.”

The word orgasm shot arrows of pure lust through him, and he inhaled sharply. And caught the subtle scent of female arousal. Apparently she was as turned on as him. Thank God.

Sitting on his heels, he worked his way back up her legs. When he reached her buttocks, he changed the speed and strength of his strokes from healing massage to sensual caress. He spread his knees more, opening her thighs wider. His fingers lightly kneaded her supple flesh, then dipped lower.