“Bear spray?”

“Check.”

“Matches and flint?”

“Check and check.”

“Water purifying tablets?”

“Check.”

“Fish hooks?”

“Um…check?” Tina glanced up from the box at her feet. “What are those ones for?”

Elena put a flourishing mark next to the item on her list. “In case we have to hunt for our own meals, silly. We can attach the hooks to string and use sticks as fishing rods.”

Tina giggled. “But my dad is going to bring enough food for all of us. He promised chocolate chip cookies.”

“I’m sure he did,” Elena said, not the least bit discomfited to be ridiculed by her seven-year-old charge. With three sisters of her own—all of whom were braver, smarter, and much more dignified than her—she was used to being teased. “But this is in case we get lost in the wilderness or our cabin burns down or something. My survival guide says you should always carry extra hooks. Fish are very nutritious, and you can even eat them raw if you have to. It’s instant sushi.”

That only caused Tina to giggle even more. “I’m pretty sure there’s no lake where we’re staying.”

“No?” Elena frowned, trying to remember if she knew anything about water features at the national forest they were destined for. Reading maps had never been her strong suit, since she avoided the wilderness whenever possible. “Rivers?”

“I don’t think so.”

Elena decided to keep the hooks anyway. “Well, if there are bears, there are bound to be fish, so I say we keep them. Did I miss anything?”

Tina poked around in the box a few times before shaking her head. “That’s all of it.” She cast a sly look up at Elena, her twin mouse-colored ponytails bobbing. “You know, I think we have enough stuff for a trip to the moon.”

“The moon definitely doesn’t have any rivers” was all Elena would say as she taped up the box and began packaging it in the waterproof bag that could also double as a rain poncho, should the need arise.

Elena didn’t need to look over her charge to know that her courage was being assessed and found wanting. Technically, there was no need for her to pack anything except her own clothes and a few books to pass the time. Tina’s father, Max, was probably the most capable outdoorsman the world had ever seen. All that man had to do was walk into a forest, and trees started trembling in fear.

Elena usually trembled, too, but fear wasn’t the predominant cause. Her trembling tended to fall somewhere in the palpitating, swooning category. For a woman so fearful of nature and everything it had to offer, she sure found its human incarnation highly appealing. Long, strong, his dark hair and full beard peppered with gray…

“Why did you make that sound?” Tina asked.

Elena coughed in an effort to avoid telling a lie. One of her many failings in this life was that anything and everything that came out of her mouth was painfully honest. And by painful, she mostly meant agonizing to her pride. “It’s nothing. I was just clearing my throat.”

“No, before that.”

“Um.” She thought fast. “Maybe it was the sound of the duct tape?”

“But it came from your face.”

Elena laughed. She’d done her fair share of nannying in her lifetime, but there was no question that Tina was her favorite charge. Too smart for her own good, and fearless in the bargain, the little imp.

“I was thinking about your dad,” she admitted and, to avoid pesky questions about why her face had suddenly turned a flaming shade of red, busied herself putting the final touches on Tina’s suitcase.

“Don’t you like him?” Tina asked.

Oh, Elena liked him, all right. She liked the way he walked into a room and immediately arranged himself against one of the walls, never putting himself forward until he was needed. She liked how when he was with Tina, literally nothing else mattered to him, as though the world stopped around the two of them. And she especially liked the way he always seemed to be dressed as though he’d just come down from the side of a mountain, reckless and rugged and ready to go back up again just as fast. Max Stafford wasn’t a man who would tire easily—of that she was sure.

Since telling a seven-year-old how much she admired her father’s stamina was high on the list of nanny no-nos, she focused on the least offensive one.

“I’m afraid he’s not going to be too excited to have me in his way up there at the cabin, that’s all,” she said and gave the girl’s freckled nose a tweak. “He probably wants you all to himself for a couple of weeks. I know I would.”

Tina paused to digest this bit of information. “But you’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t he want you there?”

Elena couldn’t help her heartstrings from tangling in her throat. “For no reason at all, sweetie. It’s just my usual jitters, that’s all.”

That, at least, was easy for the child to understand. Elena’s jitters were such a regular part of their day that Tina had come to expect them as a matter of course. Elena could profess a truly ridiculous fear, like being afraid of the color red, and the girl would remove every crimson-tinged item in her room without batting an eyelash.

“Are you two about ready?” a calm voice asked from the doorway. “I hope you brought lots of extra socks. I don’t know why, but it’s impossible to keep socks dry around Tina’s father. I swear he soaks them in water overnight.”

They both looked up to find Quinn leaning on the doorframe, smiling down at them as they finished the last of their holiday packing. As she always did when faced with the confident willowy beauty, Elena bit back a sigh of longing.

Quinn Stafford, soon to be Quinn Anthony, was an undeniably beautiful woman. Tall and graceful, she had the kind of serene good looks that seemed effortless. Right now, for example, she wore a cream silk blouse and matching pencil skirt, neither of which bore a single wrinkle or stain. Elena couldn’t even keep a T-shirt white for fifteen minutes. If it didn’t get Play-Doh or spaghetti sauce on it from her nannying duties, then she’d do something stupid like drop her mascara wand or brush up against a dirty car.

It would have been fine, Quinn’s innate elegance, if she wasn’t also smart and successful and so freaking nice.

“Just about.” Elena hoisted herself on top of the suitcase lid so she could get its contents fully zipped. Without looking up at her employer, she added, “Are you sure you aren’t mad at me for not coming with you to Hawaii? I feel so terrible, ruining your wedding plans—”

“Don’t be silly,” Quinn said, proving her niceness to perfection. “Of course we’d prefer to have you and Tina there to celebrate with us, but if you can’t fly, you can’t fly. That’s all there is to it.”

Elena nodded her thanks. Even talking about airplanes had a way of making her throat close and her tongue stop working.

“Besides, this way, Tina gets to spend her holidays with snowmen and cocoa instead of sandcastles and luaus. Right, darling?”

Tina also nodded in mute reply, though her silence was caused by childish bliss rather than terror. She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Daddy promised we can go snowshoeing and everything.”

“Snowshoeing?” Elena asked doubtfully. “Isn’t that where you tie tennis rackets to your shoes and climb up mountains?”

Tina sighed happily. “It’s gonna be so epic.”

Elena swallowed and met Quinn’s eye, grateful for the other woman’s towering strength of character. That look sympathized but also dared her to deny Tina this opportunity to enjoy her father’s company. Elena could either board a tin-can deathtrap in the sky or put herself in the hands of a highly attractive mountain climber in his element. From a purely logistical standpoint, the latter made the most sense.

“The epic-est,” Elena promised and got to her feet. Hoisting Tina’s suitcase under one arm and her makeshift survival kit under the other, she followed Quinn to the living room.

Due to the last-minute nature of his work, Max was often late for pickup times, but today proved to be the exception. No sooner had Elena and Tina bundled into their layers of outdoor gear than a knock had the little girl jumping up in excitement.

Elena’s insides jumped up in excitement, too, but she managed to subdue them as Quinn opened the door to reveal her ex-husband standing on the other side.

“Daddy!” Tina cried, leaping into his arms with all the exuberance of youth. He caught her in a whoosh of air as her snowpants, puffy jacket, vest, and various other garments deflated on contact.

“Peanut!” he cried in response and murmured something in her ear to make her giggle.

Elena looked away from the affectionate scene, asking Quinn a few low-voiced questions in order to give the pair some privacy.

She wasn’t against blatantly staring at their father-daughter reunions, especially given that Max’s whole being lit up in a way she found irresistible, but Quinn was always bothered at the sight of it. Such a thing was inevitable in this type of situation; the parent who had less custody had a way of being built up as a special treat, whereas Quinn was just the ordinary, everyday standard. It was no one’s fault, and Elena had tried saying as much to her employer, but it was no use. Never mind that Elena had a master’s degree in child psychology and was inordinately expensive as a result—she was, unfortunately, the nanny. Few people ever managed to see past that.

Max and Quinn included.

Max especially.

“Why are you dressed up like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man?” Max asked as he finally swung his daughter back down to her feet. He cast an enquiring look at Elena, too, his glance quick and extremely unappreciative. He even frowned—a thing she combatted by wearing her brightest, most cheerful smile.

He didn’t appear to know what to do with it. He never did.

“We’re not walking to the cabin,” he said. “You’re going to be in the Blazer most of the time. It’s old, but the heating still works. I promise.”

“Oh, I know. But Tina and I wanted to be prepared.”

In an effort to look like she knew what she was doing, she gave a casual toss of her head. She usually wore her long brown hair in a ponytail, but she’d left it down for their journey in hopes that it would provide an extra layer of heat. The result was that the strands swished over and got caught in the top zipper of her coat.

“Ow. Ouch. Oops.” She tried to yank at the caught hair, but that only caused it to snag on the zipper even more. Her head was turned at an awkward angle, but she didn’t dare move it for fear of ripping out all her hair. She loved her hair. It was like a comfort blanket extending out of her head. “Tina, won’t you help me?” she begged with a laugh. “I’m trapped!”

Tina giggled, and even Quinn smiled as she watched her struggle to free herself, but it was left to Max to rescue her. He was, after all, the closest to her and the one most likely to be carrying a pocketknife.

With an air of reluctance, he drew close and commanded her to be still. It was a ridiculous thing for him to say—as if she could be anything else while his face was pressed so near hers, the scratchy wisps of his beard almost tickling her chin. She stood there, every muscle still, as his fingers worked deftly at her zipper. She didn’t even dare breathe for fear that he might get a whiff of something less than minty-fresh perfection.

When she breathed in Max Stafford’s face for the first time, she wanted it to be minty-fresh perfection.

“Almost got it… One more second… There!” He released her hair, holding the ends up with something approaching triumph. As if suddenly realizing that his triumph was about two inches away from her lips, he dropped her hair like it was on fire and stepped back. He also frowned again.

“The first rule of making it in the wilderness is to keep your hair tied back at all times,” he said. “Especially if it’s as long as yours and we’re around open fire.”

She nodded. That made sense, actually—she wondered why it hadn’t been in any of the safety guides she’d read. In terms of danger levels, setting her head on fire was definitely up there with encountering a mid-hibernation bear.

“What’s the second rule?” she asked.

Max’s brow pinched in the middle, his face a roadmap of craggy lines extending outward from there. As a man who’d done his fair share of living outdoors and in the elements, his face was weathered, but not in a bad way. Each line seemed to tell a story, carry a message, mean something. When Elena reached his age, she wanted to look exactly like that.

Like she’d lived. Not in the shadow of the myriad of fears that dictated her every action, but the way he did—climbing mountains, scaling rock cliffs, facing Mother Nature on her worst day and coming out victorious.

“I don’t have any other rules,” he eventually said.

Elena wasn’t buying it. Tying your hair back was a good rule, but it couldn’t be the end all and be all of mountain safety.

“I think you should make me a list anyway,” she said. “I want to know everything that could possibly go wrong out there, and what I should do to counteract it.”

Max’s brow didn’t unfurrow. If anything, it only got deeper, as though he was just now realizing what he’d signed on for in taking her out with him. He opened his mouth to say something—probably to cancel the whole trip—but Tina stopped him short.

“You can tell her in the car, Daddy. We’ll play the alphabet game.”

Elena clapped her hands. “I love the alphabet game!”

“What’s the alphabet game?” Max asked, but they didn’t answer him. With one quick and unobtrusive look at her watch, Quinn forced them all into action. She was that kind of woman—she could take charge of an entire scene without saying a word.

Elena tried not to dwell on the fact that she had no control and no power of any kind. Sure, she could get kids to do her bidding, but if she had the ability to make Max Stafford do anything, she’d have made him fall in love with her ages ago. A pout of the lips, a seductive meeting of the eyes…the means didn’t matter nearly as much as the outcome.

“You guys have lots of fun, okay?” Quinn asked, gingerly lowering herself to Tina’s level and brushing her cheek with a kiss. “Listen to Elena and Daddy, and be sure to call me whenever you get near a phone.”

Which was a nice, motherly thing to say, but it put Elena in mind of something that had been bothering her since this entire thing was proposed. “Is there really no cell service out there?” she asked Max, her voice low.

He looked at her in some surprise. “Didn’t Quinn tell you? It’s completely cut off. We can drive down to the town a few times and use the restaurant’s phone, but that’s it.”

“She told me.” Elena swallowed heavily and tried to smile, but it didn’t work. Sure, being trapped with Max for two weeks was the height of all her fantasies, but fantasies were a lot different from reality. For example, in the fantasy version of this holiday, there was easy access to a phone and both she and Max were gloriously naked. Also not accompanied by a seven-year-old child. “I hoped maybe she was wrong.”

“She’s not.” Max paused, watching her out of the corner of one of his glinting hazel eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She had to be. She’d already told her parents that nothing short of an attack by Bigfoot would stop her from making this trip happen. Two whole weeks with the man she loved and a little girl she adored. Two whole weeks to face her fears and prove that she wasn’t just some scared, shaking scrap of a woman unworthy of licking Max’s high-performance hiking boots.

Two weeks was literally all she had left to make that happen. Starting on the first of the year, she was going to be working as a juvenile case worker for the state of Washington. She’d still be living in Spokane, of course, and Quinn had already given her permission to maintain a relationship with Tina, but it wouldn’t be the same. She was moving on with her life, and she had no doubt that Max would do the same.

That, more than anything else, was what fed her resolve. If the wild animals and snow didn’t kill her, then the idea of letting two weeks with the man of her dreams slip through her fingers would.

“I’m sure,” she said, keeping her voice firm.

His look of disbelief indicated that the firmness might not have been as evident as she’d hoped. But then he countered it with, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Elena. You have my word on that.”

Her heart, which was already working overtime being in such close proximity with Max, gave a stutter. People tried to allay her fears all the time with glib comments like that. That’s just the paranoia talking. It’s actually safer than driving. Statistically, you have a better chance of dying from a vending machine falling on your head. While offered with good intentions, none of those things were particularly helpful.

But Max was different. His physical strength, his air of easy assurance—whatever the reason, when he offered her a kind, capable smile and promised her she’d be okay, she believed him.

“After all, you’re Tina’s nanny,” he added, flattening her hopes and dreams at once. “As long as you’re important to her, you’re important to me.”

And once I’ve outgrown my usefulness? She didn’t dare ask. There was no need. She already knew the answer.

That was the day he’d walk out of her life and never look back.