They shook hands again. Struck by a sudden burst of inspiration, Ken said, “I’m looking forward to learning from your expertise.”
That got him a reaction. Startled, she met his eyes. He smiled.
She tugged her hand away quickly and looked over at Cal. “See you around, Westland.”
“You too,” Cal said blandly.
Ken watched her leave. Her curves were just as apparent from behind.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Cal said, “Still don’t want a guide?” Amusement flavored his tone.
Getting married, Ken thought, had done wonders for Cal’s ability to express emotions and respond to humor. It was really too bad that Ken had to experience it in this particular context. “Shut up.”
Cal didn’t say anything else, but Ken could see the smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.
Damn it. He didn’t need anyone making fun of him for getting googly-eyed over a woman. And frankly, he didn’t need to get googly-eyed over a woman in the first place. This was a professional step up for him, one that he needed after getting such a late start in the game.
Most people got into environmental science as twenty-two-year-olds, not after ten years in the Marines and three years in an accelerated college program. The Glacier research project was a big win for him, and he wasn’t about to screw it up because of the way his gonads were responding to one woman.
A woman who could probably be a professional asset, at that, if he didn’t totally alienate her by asking her out seventeen times after she’d already said no.
But she smells so good, his lion purred.
And I don’t need any input from you, Ken added firmly.
***
Well. Lynn had not been prepared for that.
She’d been expecting some grizzled, take-no-advice, high-and-mighty jerk, not that…man.
Ken, Cal had said. Ken Turner.
With the warm auburn hair only barely touched with grey, and the tawny golden eyes that had seemed to take her all in at a glance. Eyes with laugh lines at the corners, lines that deepened when he smiled at her.
Which had been a lot.
He smelled good, too, her lynx thought wistfully.
Stop it. Lynn firmly reminded her lynx—and herself—that he was probably just one of those natural charmers. Anyone with a face like that must be; he looked like one of those classic movie stars, the ones who just got better-looking as they aged. He must have women falling all over him, wherever he traveled for his field research.
And he must be used to taking advantage of that. After all, he’d asked her out to dinner after knowing her for approximately four minutes.
And Lynn had said no, because she didn’t date.
She’d accepted a long time ago that she was happiest alone. All of the serious connections in her life had eventually fallen away. Her family…well, the less said about that, the better. And most men didn’t understand her need to be independent, to spend most of her time out in the wilderness that was her first love.
Or they understood that too well. When she was younger, some men had thought that that made Lynn a perfect candidate for a casual hookup, nothing serious. Those were the charmers, the ones who wanted a string of girls.
So she didn’t trust charming, handsome men who wanted a date right away. Falling for that was a one-way ticket to disappointment.
Right?
Even though there was a little niggling thought at the back of her mind: what would dinner with Ken Turner, environmental scientist, formerly of the Marine Corps, have been like? Most environmental scientists she’d met were eggheads, people who’d spent most of their lives in school, not former military.
And most of them didn’t smile at her like the sun was coming up right before their eyes.
He probably does that to everyone, she said to herself.