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throat was a knot. Because if Amber cut him out of her life, the only worthwhile part of his own would be lost.
    Ruby sprang up off the bed now and wriggled back into her panties and jeans and shirt, with a speed only possible from somebody used to doing lightning-fast costume changes between songs at her concerts. “Sorry,” she said, scooping up her fur jacket from the floor. “Really sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you.” She waved her hand between him and the general direction of Amber. “I didn’t realize you guys were.…”
    “What? No—we’re not. It’s not—”
    “It’s okay, I get it.” Ruby leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Complicated, right?” That jasmine scent of hers hit his nose like a slap. The scent seemed wrong. The only scent he wanted was one he’d smelled on the floor of that meadow yesterday.
    The wildflower coconut musky scent of Amber’s skin.
    Oh, shit, he was in deep trouble.
    And he probably wasn’t ever going to get close enough to Amber to smell that scent again.
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
    Amber’s head was pounding. The humiliation actually hurt.
    So this was what other women were always complaining about, while she listened in smug bafflement, never having done the “dating thing” because she’d had just the one serious boyfriend all her adult life.
    Men were scum.
    They were actually scum.
    Like green, slimy, stinky, primordial, one-celled, brainless scum.
    Even Nick, who was otherwise such a wonderful, smart, funny, sensitive guy.
    No. Especially Nick.
    She curled up into the tightest ball she could on her bed and pulled the army blanket up to her chin. She was supposed to be outside, meeting with the new key grip and gaffers she’d hired, and handling all the last minute details before main production started tomorrow. She was supposed to be spending time with Ruby Torres, getting to know her, building the bond of trust they were going to need for such an emotional shoot.
    Though, obviously, Nick was handling the “getting to know her” angle pretty damn thoroughly on his own.
    My God, I’m stupid . An absolute, first-class idiot.
    She should have read the signs when Nick ignored her all yesterday evening after they came back down from the mountain. Normally, he’d have been out checking his equipment, charging batteries, planning camera set-ups, getting a feel for the local light, asking a million questions about how Amber wanted to handle different scenes.
    Clearly, he’d been avoiding her. He wasn’t into talking after sex, apparently. No messy break-up conversations for Nick Turner. He just moved on to the next available warm body.
    Or…no, it was worse than that. He would have been perfectly happy to have her get in on something kinky with him and the next available warm body. “Don’t go, kiddo ,” he’d said. “ You should stay .” Oh, dear freakin’ God. The more the merrier, apparently. He’d probably have invited the sound-check girl too, if she’d shown up.
    Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’d known this about him. Well, not the penchant for threesomes. But the love ‘em and leave ‘em thing, the different girl in his bed every week thing. Somehow—and this was the really, really, stunningly stupid part—she’d thought, with her, maybe he’d be different. Because Nick actually knew her, and cared about her as a human being.
    Her stomach twisted sickeningly.
    Now they probably weren’t even friends anymore.
    And they were stuck for three weeks in a national park, miles and miles and miles from civilization, and they had to make a film together.
    She wanted to stayed curled up in a ball on her bunk the whole time and cry. She’d already skipped checking out the swimming hole the forest rangers told her about, the one that needed to be just perfect, perfect, perfect for the big crisis break-up scene. Amber always did her own scouting, but not today—she’d sent Onyx, her Assistant Director, up to scout the site