“I knew I could.” The elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside. “Oh, and be sure to pack some warm clothes. It’s hot during the day, but I understand it can get pretty chilly on the trail at night.”

The elevator door closed, and Kayla found herself staring at her own reflection in the polished brass door. She looked a little shell-shocked.

Not a big surprise, considering that’s exactly how she felt.

But, according to the U.S. Weekly Review article, this trip was exactly what she needed. And she’d learned long ago that when life handed you lemons, you made lemonade.

Of course, in the case of a four-day hike up a mountain with a man she regarded with high suspicion, she hoped this was more a case of life handing her limes, since, thanks to Brett Thornton, she didn’t doubt she’d need to make a margarita. Or two.

I understand it can get pretty chilly on the trail at night.

Three or four was definitely not out of the question.

2

SEATED AT a table at one of Cusco’s numerous outdoor cafés with a bottle of sparkling water at his elbow, Brett Thornton stretched out his legs and surveyed his surroundings. A sense of calm awe settled over him. Incredible to think that mere hours ago he’d been in fast-paced Manhattan, and now he sat where the mighty Incas had lived centuries ago.

His gaze drifted over the stately Plaza de Armas, the focal point in this picturesque city referred to as the capital of the Inca empire. Drenched in bright, late-afternoon sunlight, the plaza teemed with tourists and merchants. Lined with colorful arcades and carved wooden balconies, its building foundations laid by the Incas over five centuries ago, the plaza was a sight to behold and seemed imbued with the spirit of the people who’d once roamed the stone streets.