“Gave it to you? I thought I’d heard you got it from his bedroom?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
He cocked his head. “And? How did you even get in that situation in the first place?”
“Well, I’d gone to that auction with a friend of mine who’d been the one responsible for the necklace, and when the necklace went missing, they blamed him. So I did some digging, learned Sardoni was the likely culprit, snuck my way into a party he was having a few days later, and during the party he invited me to his room. And while we were in there . . . he put the necklace on me.”
She nonchalantly glanced at Ford, who was hanging on to her every word. This was fun. And, admittedly, the time she fooled mob boss Bernard Sardoni was one of her favorite stories, even though, at the time, she had been terrified. But she couldn’t let her friend take the heat for the necklace’s disappearance.
“Wait . . . did you . . .” Although he didn’t finish his question, it was obvious what he wanted to ask. The same question everyone asked: whether she’d had sex with Sardoni.
“Ew, of course not, Ford. I do have standards, thank you very much.”
“But you did use your sex appeal to get in his bedroom,” he said, more like a fact than a question.
Hmm . . . was Ford admitting that he found her sexy? She fought her smile back.
“Well, how else was I going to get up there? I mean, how the heck do you think I got into that party, anyway?”
Though, that was the reason Sardoni brought her to his room. Thankfully, she’d gone in with an exit plan.
“And that’s it? He put the necklace on you and said, ‘Here you go’？”
“No. About a minute later, his wife came bursting into the room, with the maid I’d paid a hundred bucks to snitch, and then I snuck out during the commotion. Seeing as he stole the necklace in the first place, it wasn’t like he was going to report me to the police.”
Ford covered his mouth to hide his shock. “No way. I can’t believe you did that. That’s so dangerous, Corrie. And ballsy. Maybe you are a badass.”
She smiled and had to turn her head to keep him from being able to see her blush. For some reason, his acknowledgment felt like confirmation that all her outrageous antics had been worth it. They at least made for decent fodder at dig-side dinners.
“What about you? What’s the wildest thing that’s happened to you since you became Dr. Ford Matthews?”
“I don’t do wild,” he said, wiping the last of the droplets off the makeshift counter.
“Oh, come on. No Holy Grails? Or chasing Nazis through the desert?”
He snickered. “Nope.”
“What about sword fights and snakes?” she jested.
“Certainly not.”
“Don’t you have any fun?” she asked, playfully tugging on his arm.
And accidentally brushing her breasts against his bicep. They both froze, each glancing at the place where their bodies connected, but neither making any effort to break apart. They hadn’t been this close since . . . since that night in the library.
Dammit . . . it felt good being this close to him. Warmth rippled through her body, and her nipples hardened. Could he feel it? Did she want him to feel it? The pace of his breathing picked up, matching hers one to one.
A roar of thunder cracked through the sky, snapping them out of whatever daze they’d been in and forcing their bodies apart as if lightning had sliced between them. And with that one rolling boom came an onslaught of rain. The once-calm camp was now in an all-out flurry with people running for shelter and grabbing their things.
“The Jeep,” Ford said.
“My things!” Corrie followed up. Within seconds, her bags, sitting on the backseat of the topless Jeep, would be soaked. Dammit.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the hand and running through the pouring rain.
By the time they reached the Jeep, Corrie’s hair was plastered against her cheek. Her shirt clung to her skin. At least her shirt was black. Ford’s white button-down, on the other hand, was practically see-through, highlighting every bump and divot of his perfect pecs and abs.
“Here, take this,” he said, tearing her attention from his chest and handing her the smaller of her bags as he grabbed the other. “Now follow me.”
They ran back through the camp, following the string lights as the rain came down so fast and hard that it couldn’t even soak into the ground. Puddles started to form throughout camp, splashing up whenever Corrie and Ford ran through them. Finally, they reached one of the tents, and Ford pulled open the door to let her in. Once inside, a calmness settled over her, despite the loudness of the rain pounding on the roof.
“These are waterproof, right?” she asked as Ford came in and set her bag on the wooden platform floor.
“Yes. You’ll be fine.”
He ran his hand through his hair, shaking out some of the excess water while she took in her surroundings.
The space was large. Larger than any tent she’d ever slept in. There was a bed, a real full-size bed in one corner with a trunk at the foot. A desk covered with papers sat immediately across from it. A couple of comfortable-looking wooden chairs with a small table were in yet another corner. And by the entry was a bench with a pile of gear.
“This is nice,” she said. A little fancy for her tastes, but, hey, it sure beat waking in a puddle in the middle of the night.
“You’ll get one like this, too. If you stay, I mean,” he said.
She couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that she hadn’t made up her mind.
“Here,” he said, handing her a towel and then taking off his glasses to dry them off.
She took it in her hand and pressed it against her hair and then her chest, trying to blot the water soaking through.
“Ugh, my stuff is probably all wet,” she said, kneeling to open one of her bags to check.
“We can lay everything out to dry,” Ford said, opening the other bag.
The big bag.
Oh no. Not that one.
“That’s okay, I can do it,” she said.
“It’s not a problem. I don’t mind,” he continued, clearly not hearing the panic in her voice.
“No, really. I’ve got it.” She started to get up, watching his arm disappear into her bag. “No, don’t go in there!”
Ford pulled out his arm, and along with it a long purple contraption. “What is this?” he asked, eyeing the device suspiciously.
“It’s . . . it’s my vibrator.”
He instantly dropped it, sending it to the floor with a loud clunk.
“My God, Ford, don’t break it,” she said, rushing to pick it up off the ground.
“Well, what is that doing in there?”
“What do you mean, ‘What’s it doing in there’？ It’s my bag. I told you not to go in there.”
“Well, why didn’t you warn me?”
“I did warn you. I said not to go in there.”
“Yeah, but you could have said why.”
“Oh, really? What was I supposed to say? ‘Don’t go in there, Ford. That’s where I keep my vibrator’？”
“It certainly would have stopped me.”