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glare. She guessed from the pale sky that it was barely dawn. Rod would want to leave soon anyway. She should probably be grateful the burro had awakened her. No doubt it was better than being rousted from bed by an irritated Rod. He’d already demonstrated his ineptitude at gentleness.
    Cara regarded the donkey warily. “I suppose you want to hang around while I get dressed, too.”
    She stood up and stretched her aching muscles. Rod had insisted she sleep on the cot. He had taken down the hammock and moved it outside for himself. At the time she’d considered it a surprising burst of chivalry. Now she wasn’t so sure. It had been the most uncomfortable night she’d ever spent in her life. Even the extra padding of her sleeping bag hadn’t cushioned her body adequately. She felt as though she’d slept on rocks. She massaged a couple of the sorest spots, then grimaced as she pulled on her clothes. The incredible mugginess had left them damp. It was like getting into a wet bathing suit.
    The donkey brayed again and took a few more steps into the tent. He appeared ready to settle in. Cara approached the disgusting animal with a glint of determination in her eye.
    â€œEnough is enough. Get out of here, you old reprobate.”
    â€œI trust you’re not talking to me.”
    Cara jumped at the sound of Rod’s voice. As he spoke, he lifted a corner of the tent flap and peered at her. There was a sleepy sensuality in his morning look that promptly stirred her blood. Hazel eyes skimmed over her with leisurely, disconcerting thoroughness.
    So, she thought with idle fascination, yesterday’s reaction to the man hadn’t been the result of fatigue or irritation or any one of the other excuses she’d made. Apparently the gossip was true: Rod Craig most definitely inspired lust. Even in her. How interesting and, in her case, disturbing. He was about as appropriate for her as a sky-diving playboy. Having decided that, with her usual no-nonsense efficiency, she set about ignoring the sensations he aroused.
    She offered him a sunny smile. “If the shoe fits.”
    He scowled at her with mock ferocity. “And here I came to tell you that the coffee’s on.”
    â€œIf you’ll take your pal out of here with you, I’ll be along in a minute.”
    Rod shook his head as he swatted the burro’s rump, urging him back through the flap. “I can’t understand what’s gotten into him. He never comes visiting when I’m here alone. It must have something to do with your charming personality.”
    â€œMaybe he’s taking his cues from you. I noticed you didn’t hesitate before poking your head in.”
    â€œI knocked. The canvas tends to muffle the sound.”
    â€œVery funny. Are you always this cheerful in the morning?” she inquired, welcoming the change in his previously surly demeanor. Perhaps he’d decided to cease armed warfare. There was a certain danger in that, of course. It could make him more attractive and then wham , she’d have no defense left against the desire that teased at her senses like the brush of a feather.
    â€œOnly when I’m about to waste a day taking the boss’s daughter on a sight-seeing tour.”
    Cara couldn’t miss the sour note underlying the glib remark. So much for the truce. Her defenses fell back into place, stronger than ever.
    â€œI’m glad you’re looking forward to it,” she mocked. “There’s just one thing.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œAt the moment I’m not the boss’s daughter,” she reminded him sweetly. “I’m the boss. Now would you please get that foul-breathed animal out of my tent.”
    â€œ Our tent,” he corrected. “And be careful what you say about old Diablo.” The warning was accompanied by a worrisome glint of amusement in his eyes.
    â€œDiablo?” She regarded the mangy burro