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fronds. Mark’s whole body ached to take another step forward and take her in his arms.
    Mark had spent a lot of time rehearsing what he would say when he found the woman he thought was his mate again. Now that she was standing right in front of him, he couldn’t remember any of it.
    His eyes wandered further, soaking in every inch he could see of her. Under her blush, her face was thickly freckled, a constellation of dots from the tip of her nose to her earlobes. Her hair, a strawberry blonde that reminded him of sunsets and firelight, was pulled back into a simple ponytail, but a few strands had escaped to fall across her face. Her scruffy, unkempt look was miles away from how she’d looked at the wedding. And she was all the more perfect for it.
    Mark bit back a sudden impulse to tuck the stray strands of hair behind one of those freckled ears. He cleared his throat.
    “I … I’ve got your shoe,” he said. “I mean—oh, shit—that makes me sound like a complete freak, doesn’t it…”
    He snapped his mouth shut before he could explain the reason he had the shoe with him. “I wanted to be able to smell it and track you by the smell” probably wasn’t the most romantic pick-up line.
    “Great,” she said, sounding as stunned as he felt. “Thanks. I was missing that. Shoe. Um.”
    There was a pause. Mark tried to think of something to say, but no words were making it past his internal shrieks.
    Don’t explain why you have her shoe. Don’t do it. DON’T DO IT.
    “I—” he started, and then stopped as Jamie raised one hand and poked him in the chest.
    “Sorry, sorry,” she said quickly. “Just … Testing. Huh. You’re really … Real, aren’t you. And really here.”
    She poked him again. “Yep. Here you are. Um.”
    Mark found his tongue again. “My name’s Mark. Mark Visser.”
    “You’re related to Tom!” She sounded as though some final puzzle piece had slotted into place. “I’m Jamie. Jamie Sullivan.”
    She took a deep breath.
    “So, uh … How are things?”
    “Great!” said Mark with forced brightness. Great—and very strange.
    “It, uh, it sounds like you had a bit of a run-in with the condors back there…?”
    “Condors?” Mark frowned. He knew condors were big, ugly carrion-eaters with weird naked heads. He hadn’t thought there were any in this area, though. “Is that what they were?”
    “There’s a breeding pair nested on the cliff by the river,” Jamie said. Her voice, which had been strangely breathy, became steadier as she repeated what was obviously a well-rehearsed script. “It’s part of a breeding program to restore the species to the mountains here. Coco and Louie are the first birds we’ve released who’ve paired off, so we’re asking people to please stay clear of the area while they establish their nest.”
    “I can understand why,” Mark said. He turned his head, staring back in the direction of his feathery attackers.
    Jamie gasped. “Your face!”
    He put one hand to the cheek he’d scraped when the bird—the condor—had dive-bombed him. His fingers came away tacky. He was still bleeding. “Oh, damn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize ...”
    “Well, that settles it,” Jamie interrupted him firmly. “Follow me. I’ll patch that up for you, and give you the lecture on the birds at the same time.” She started striding back towards her tent. Mark watched her, feeling as though he’d been hit over the head with the stupid stick.
    “What are you waiting for? Come on!” Jamie ordered him firmly, and his legs kicked into gear.
    * * *
    JAMIE
     
    Jamie tried not to think too hard about the extremely tall, extremely sexy man behind her. Mark. It was nice to be able to put a name to the face.
    And it was nice to see his face.
    And it was nice to see the rest of him.
    When they first met, Mike had been dressed up for the wedding in a format suit, tie, the works. The tailored pants and jacket had done an amazing job outlining his strong frame,