Page 36 of Love In Translation

God, she loved it when he touched her, loved his big hands on her body. Sex with Fletch was a mind-blowing experience. Some nights his passion flirted on the sexy edge of kink; at others he slowed down, taking his time and delaying their intense orgasms. She never knew what to expect—a quickie in the living room or hours of concentrated lovemaking—and trying to work out Fletch’s mood distracted her from her increasingly worrying life-work situation.

Fletch brushed her hair off her face, his smile soft and encouraging. “Do you speak Portuguese, Rheo?”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how fluent are you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Probably a six.”

“Because you have a habit of underestimating your talents, I’m taking that as an eight. Have you done any Portuguese-to-English translations at the UN?”

“I’m in the Spanish section, Fletch,” Rheo told him, seeing his trap and trying to avoid it.

Fletch just lifted one eyebrow, a demand for her to answer his question. At times like this, she caught glimpses of the expedition leader: cool, calm, and focused. He wasn’t going to let her avoid the question.

“I’ve translated Portuguese before,” she reluctantly admitted, “but it was ages ago!”

“If it’s good enough for the UN, it’s good enough for the kayakers. Stop being a wuss, Rheo, and do this for them. Two Gilmartin guides, friends of mine, are going to lose a shit ton of money if they don’t pull this off.”

Arrgh!Rheo tossed her hands in the air, feeling like a bitch for saying no. Fletch made it sound so easy—just stand there and translate the words. But if she got it wrong, there could be real-world repercussions.

“They are experienced kayakers, Rheo,” Fletch said, reading her mind. “They would’ve attended many, many safety briefings and watched countless videos of the run. The safety briefing must happen because (a) it’s a good thing to do and (b) for legal cover, so they’ll know if you say something that doesn’t sound right. They’ll ask for clarification. You’re making more of this than what it should be.”

Rheo thought back to when her words disappeared as she translated for the Spanish trade minister, and the moisture in her mouth dried up. “But what happens if all my words go poof again?”

Fletch shook his head, his face showing no hint of doubt. “They won’t, Rhee. Trust yourself.”

So much harder to do than he thought. Fletch, having climbed mountains and hacked his way through jungles, trekked through blizzards, and solo-climbed sheer rock walls, did not doubt himself. Rheo wished for a smidgen of his self-confidence.

“Your words won’t disappear, and you will be fine,” Fletch told her, bending his head to kiss her on the ticklish spot where her neck met her jaw. “We’ll leave here at four.”

She jerked back, her eyes wide. “In themorning?”

“No, in the afternoon, because the run takes a few hours, and they want to do it when it’s dark.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm. “I don’tdomornings,” she told him. Why would she want to leave her nice, warm, comfortable bed at such a ludicrous hour? Fletch rolled his eyes and she relented. “Okay, okay! I’ll go into town, do the briefing, and come back to bed.”

Fletch’s mouth twitched with amusement. “The briefing will be at the river, at least an hour’s drive from here,” he told her.

Rheo sighed. Of course it was. “I’m not good early in the morning,” Rheo told Fletch, thinking he needed the warning. “I haven’t started my transition from swamp witch to human yet.”

He grinned. “I’ve seen you at that time of the morning and you aren’t that scary, Rheo Whitlock.”

Ha! Maybe not, but then again, he kissed her awake to make love to her, not to boot her out of bed to go adventuring. It was a very different set of circumstances...

Rheo had told the truth: she was dreadful early in the morning when sex wasn’t on the table. She’d bitched when he shook her awake and complained bitterly about being forced to find clothes and brush her teeth at an hour that, she told him three or four times, was only fit for psychopaths and lunatics. He encouraged her to drink lots of coffee while he drove her to the river, and she slowly transformed from grump to gorgeous girl.

But, as she’d told him, so much coffee made her need to pee, and he saw her mood plummet when he informed her that her only option was to go behind a tree. After splashing water on her hands, she approached the excited group and dredged up a smile for Mick and Sam, gradually thawing under their effusive thanks.

She still wasn’t happy with him. Fletch wasn’t fazed—she’d return to normal sooner or later.

Sitting on a log, his long legs stretched out in front of him, Fletch listened as Rheo translated for Mick, her speech becoming more rapid and her tone more confident as time passed. He wished he was preparing to kayak the river, but he’d promised Carrie he’d wait for her. He could do anything else, Carrie told him, but she wanted them to kayak the Little White Salmon together. But, damn, his friend was taking her time to get here. On the plus side, the longer Carrie stayed away, the more time he got with Rheo...

Fletch sipped from his thermos cup, enjoying the good hot coffee. Mick and Sam provided flasks of coffee and packed breakfast for their clients, and they’d tossed in provisions for him and Rheo. There was nothing better than hot coffee, a river running behind him, and the sound of birds informing each other they’d survived the night.

Laughter from the kayakers drifted over to him. Rheo looked delighted that she’d made them laugh, and he smiled when she replied to one of the younger kayaker’s quips. She looked happy and confident. He could easily imagine her working at the UN, dressed in a business suit, her hair tamed and her concentration fierce as she listened, translated, and listened some more. Working with languages, and people, was her passion, just like exploring the harder, rougher, and more remote places of the Earth was his.

Pride in her bubbled up. He could see that it was as hard for her to do this as she’d feared. She’d told him about her work screwup, but something else had happened to make her so skittish. He recognized Rheo’s strength and couldn’t believe one incident had sent her running to a town she didn’t like, forcing her to hide out in her grandmother’s house.

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