What his bio didn’t say was that his parents were bitterly disappointed that he hadn’t gone into law or politics, that marketing had been a compromise of his skills and their expectations. Still, she knew more about him than he knew about her. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him, but for some reason, he felt compelled to know what made this woman tick, why she was so spirited in spite of her social clumsiness.
After knocking over that tree in the conference room and sprawling in the floor, most people would have been too embarrassed to show their face again, much less have the balls to march into Bruce’s office and ask for an A-list account.
“I think it’s about a two-hour drive to Amicalola Falls,” he said.
“More like three, actually.” She pulled a sheaf of papers from one of the pockets in her cargo pants. “I’m a bit directionally impaired, but I read the information that Bruce gave us very carefully.”
Of course she had. “Then maybe you can tell me what we’re in for.”
“The instructions aren’t that specific, just that we should bring a stocked backpack, study the weather forecast and be prepared for anything.”
Weather forecast. He looked toward the sky. Hmm, maybe he should have read those papers after all.
“A guide will meet us at the site and give us more instructions from there.” She ran her finger down one of the sheets. “Says here there’ll be ten of us.”
He frowned. Not enough bodies to keep them from bumping into each other.
She pivoted her head. “Do you know Nick Ocean?”
Oh, brother—he knew that look. He’d seen it in Courtney’s eyes when she talked about the movie star. “I’ve met him a couple of times at trade shows.”
“What’s he like? He seems so macho onscreen.”
Dell shrugged and shifted in his seat. “I guess.”
“Tori wants me to get his autograph.”
“Just be careful around him. I’ve heard that he likes to hit on young women.”
“That’s funny,” she murmured, looking back to the papers. “I’ve heard the same thing about you.”
He frowned and only the ringing of his cell phone in its mounted cradle kept him from defending himself. In deference to the ban on holding a cell phone while driving, he hit the hands-free speaker button on the visor. “This is Dell.”
“Hey, gorgeous, it’s Courtney.”
He glanced sideways at Gabby. She didn’t act as if she were listening, but he wished he’d remembered to bring the headset for his phone. “Hi. This is a surprise.”
“I just called to wish you luck on your wilderness weekend—wink, wink.” She laughed gaily.
He shifted in his seat. “Uh, thanks. We’re on our way up there now.”
“We?”
“Gabby—I mean, Gabrielle is with me.”
“Oh.”
“She doesn’t have a car.”
“I see,” she said, her voice laced with innuendo. “Well, Gabby, should feel right at home in the mountains, with all the trees.” Laughter at her own joke burst over the speaker.
Dell shifted in his seat. “Courtney, you’re on the hands-free speaker.”
“Oh. Sorry, Gabby,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.
“How are things in Manhattan?” he asked, trying to reroute the conversation into safer territory.
“Great,” she said brightly. “My apartment is fabulous, the view from my office is unreal and the men here think my southern accent is exotic.”
“That’s nice,” he said breezily.
“In fact, I need to run. Have fun this weekend you two,” she said, her voice singsongy. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Thinking sourly that Courtney’s parting remark left way too much leeway, Dell disconnected the call. “Sorry about that,” he said, feeling annoyed with Courtney over her insensitive remarks, and feeling guilty that she had struck a nerve implying that in a cozy setting with a member of the opposite sex, he would behave accordingly.
Gabby didn’t respond, just kept reading, which only disgruntled him more. Why wouldn’t the woman talk to him? She just sat there, exuding some kind of light, fruity scent that made him wonder if she tasted as good as she smelled.
He wondered if she had any idea of how appealing she was, if she’d ever been thoroughly kissed or if she’d ever had those long, fabulous legs of hers wrapped around a man who knew what he was doing.
Then Dell pulled his hand down his face. He had to get a grip on himself. These unforeseen feelings of lust were messing with his head.
He glanced at Gabby’s tempting profile, groaning inwardly.
And they weren’t even there yet.
5
GABRIELLE TRIED to concentrate on the papers she was pretending to read, wishing that she hadn’t been privy to a conversation between Dell and his ex-whatever. And the last thing she needed was for Courtney to taunt her about the two of them being thrown together in an intimate setting. As if she weren’t supremely aware of the man sitting next to her.
His seemingly constant questions had rattled her, but in truth, she preferred him talking—when she was answering him, it took her mind off the fact that he looked so sexy in his khaki shorts and pale blue T-shirt. Her gaze kept straying to his tanned, bare arms and legs, thinking how much more at ease he looked in hiking clothes versus suits.
Maybe he was more at ease, but seeing his muscular limbs sprawled in the seat and the athletic way he controlled his body was causing her a great deal of discomfort. And she couldn’t afford to let her irrational attraction to Dell distract her from the competition—she needed all her faculties if she were going to have a fighting chance. With every mile that ticked off the odometer, the stone of dread in her stomach grew heavier and heavier. She nibbled on her thumbnail—what had she gotten herself into?
Dell seemed to have picked up speed since his phone call with Courtney. He turned off the state highway onto a two-lane road that led to the Amicalola Falls State Park, and with the change in landscape, her nerves ratcheted higher. Hoping to calm herself, she pulled out the “Adrenaline Rush” article that she’d torn out and brought with her for moral support.
Everyone has untapped talents, or talents that you take for granted and can apply to other parts of your life.
She reread the words she’d already practically memorized, desperate to drum last-minute courage into her brain, but her brain seemed a little…woozy. Maybe it was her imagination, but the roads seemed to be getting more steep…and more curvy…
Suddenly her stomach roiled and she grabbed the handle on the door frame above her.
“What’s wrong?” Dell asked.
“I…think…I’m…carsick,” she murmured. “You might…want to…slow down.”
“You might want to stop reading,” he said irritably. “We’re running late, remember?”
“I…don’t…ride…in cars…very…often,” she said, grabbing her stomach.
“Oh, good grief,” he muttered.
The vehicle slowed, and he zoomed her window down, bathing her with hot, but fresh, air. She hung her head out the window and breathed deeply, knowing that she probably looked pathetic to Dell, but acknowledged it was better than throwing up in front of him. Several minutes later, her stomach was feeling a touch better…but her throat was feeling scratchy and her nose had started to run.
Ragweed.
Getting back to nature had brought her dormant allergies roaring to life. This did not bode well for the weekend. “Do you have a tissue?” she asked, wiping at her watery eyes.
He tapped the brake. “Are you going to be sick?”
“No, at least not yet. My allergies are acting up.”
“Check the glove compartment,” he said, pointing.
She opened it and a box of condoms sprang into her hand. There was also a black bra, a jock strap and a jar of something called Slippery Sex. The man drove a rolling love shack.
He grinned and didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish. “In the back.”
With her face burning, she rummaged past a couple of maps, found a wad of napkins from a fast-food place, yanked one out and sneezed into it. She wanted to roll up the window, but didn’t dare until the queasiness passed. “Please slow down,” she moaned, resting her chin on the window opening.
“I’m going below the minimum speed limit,” he said. “At this rate, we’ll never get up this mountain.” But he eased off the gas and waved two vehicles around them. When two bicyclists passed them going uphill, Dell’s frustration became palpable.
“Maybe I should take you back,” he said, pushing his hand into his hair.
“No,” she said, gulping air past her clogged adenoids. “I’ll be fine once I acclimate.”
He barked out a laugh. “How long will that take?”
“I don’t know,” she said, bracing for a violent sneeze. From her lap she grabbed what she thought was the napkin, but wound up sneezing into the black bra. Afterward she held it up by finger and thumb and looked at Dell. “Sorry.”
He grimaced and reached over to take the bra, then tossed it out his window. Then he looked at the dash, his eyes wide. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, squeezing the bridge of her stuffy nose.
“The engine light is on—I think it’s overheated.” He steered the SUV to the shoulder and turned off the engine. “I don’t believe this.”
“Turn on the heater,” she mumbled.
“What? Why?”
“It’ll lower the engine temperature.”
He looked dubious, but he did what she suggested, then climbed out and raised the hood. Steam hissed into the air. Dell waved his arms back and forth, looking for the source.
“Check the radiator cap for a leak,” she called, then blew her nose heartily.
“Yeowww!” he howled.
She sighed, then grabbed the jock strap and climbed out to find Dell holding his burnt fingers. “It’s hot,” she added.
“I knew that,” he said, swearing and waving his red fingers in the air. “I just forgot.”
“Stand back,” she said, then used the jock strap to loosen the cap. No radiator fluid spewed out, only more steam. She leaned in and poked at the radiator hoses, zeroing in on a hole the size of a pencil eraser. “There’s your problem—a burst hose.”
He looked at her, his expression incredulous. “You know about cars?”
She frowned. “A little. Do you have an extra hose?”
“No.”
“Radiator fluid?”
He sighed. “No.”
“Wait here.” Gabrielle walked to the back of the SUV, sneezing three times in a row and dabbing at her eyes. She opened the hatch and rummaged through her backpack, removing a roll of black electrical tape, a bottle of water, a tube of burn salve and a white bandage. She walked back to the front. “Let me see your hand.”
He worked his mouth from side to side, then reluctantly turned over his wounded hand for her inspection. Angry raised blisters formed a line across the underside of his large fingers. She made a rueful noise then opened the bottle of water and, holding his big hand steady, poured cool water over the violated skin. He sucked in a breath, then exhaled in relief.
Gabrielle’s own breathing seemed to be compromised, too, and she couldn’t blame it entirely on her allergies. Watching the water splash over their hands seemed more erotic than simple first aid. Tamping down her visceral reaction to him, she squeezed the burn salve onto her fingertips and applied it to the blisters as carefully as possible. He winced, but he didn’t complain. With her hands shaking, she tore open the bandage and wrapped it around his fingers twice before securing the end.
“There,” she said cheerfully. But when she looked up, she was caught up in his deep, brown eyes that reflected surprise and…desire? She realized that they were standing close enough for her to see the little nicks where he’d cut himself shaving this morning. Instead of his usual designer cologne, the scent of strong soap emanated from his skin. Everything about him was so male, and called to all those things in her that were female.
He wet his lips, and she knew he could sense the pheromones he’d stirred in her body. He leaned in until their lips were mere inches apart. “What now?” he murmured. “We seem to be…stranded.”
At the brush of his breath against her mouth, panic shot through her stomach. Certainly he didn’t intend to kiss her. Maybe she had something in her eye…a leaf in her hair…Yet he seemed to be looking at her mouth, and wasn’t this just how she’d always fantasized it would be between her and Dell? That he would look into her eyes and fall in love with her? That he would kiss her and realize she was the one?
Her breasts grew heavy and she forgot to breathe until her lungs contracted and she had to gasp for air. The shock to her system jarred her back to reality and into motion. “Stranded?” she said, turning back to the exposed engine. “Not necessarily.”
With renewed focus, she used her teeth to tear off a foot-long piece of the black electrical tape and reached in to tightly wrap the damaged hose. Retrieving the bottle of water, she said, “Stand back.”
He did, watching intently. She carefully poured the rest of the water into the radiator, pulling back until the steam slowed, then replaced the cap loosely. “Start it up,” she said.
Looking doubtful, he climbed in and started the engine. She checked to make sure the hose was holding and left the radiator cap loose in case pressure built up again, then lowered the hood and wiped her hands on her pants.
She climbed back inside and settled into her seat, trying to put their close encounter out of her mind. “Drive slowly to the next service station.” She blew her nose again—the brief time outside had sent her allergies into overdrive.
“Thanks,” Dell said. “That was…impressive.”
“Next time you might want to put as much thought into a roadside repair kit as you do your makeout kit,” she mumbled, stuffing the condoms and body lube back into the glove compartment, and pulling out another wad of paper napkins. Her foggy head was making her bold, she realized, and she hoped the flush on her cheeks could be attributed to the heat. With everything at stake, she couldn’t believe that she’d almost succumbed to his indiscriminate sex appeal.
And worse…how utterly lame was it that she knew more about how to fix a radiator hose than how to put on a condom?
DELL STARED at the slip of a woman slumped in the passenger seat, carsick, her nose and eyes red from unseen allergens. She’d just saved their asses…and had given him the best—or should he say worst—hard-on in recent memory.
What other surprises did Gabby have up her prim little sleeve?
He pulled back onto the road and drove slowly, keeping an eye out for the engine light to come back on. Soft snores sounded and he looked over to see Gabby’s mouth slack in sleep, her face a becoming shade of pink. The allergy attack must have zapped her, he realized, still marveling over her ingenuity and feeling a little upstaged by her preparedness.
A tiny blip of alarm zigzagged through his chest. Was this a foreboding of how the competition would play out?
Then he laughed at his own musings. A road repair that she’d learned in a women’s magazine article was one thing, but surviving in the elements was quite another. Her snoring escalated and he smirked. After all, the mere drive to the competition had put her under.
But it gave him a chance to study the puzzling young woman—the elegant, understated lines of her face, her long, graceful hands and feet, her slender figure and the lush curve of her breasts. In between teasing her in the hallways at the office, how had her quiet beauty escaped him all these years?
Because he typically went for the obvious beauties, like Courtney, he realized. Because he knew what to expect from women like Courtney-fun and fleeting involvement, with no strings. But a quiet little bird like Gabby was likely inexperienced with relationships and would probably misconstrue sex with something crazy, like love.
Dell flexed his bandaged hand. He did not need the complication of love in his life, not when his career was bulleting up and he already had less free time than he’d like to pursue the outdoor sports he enjoyed.
He forced his attention from the slender beauty back to the road. For the meantime, he’d stick to the obvious.
A few miles later, he pulled into a mom-and-pop service station and still Gabby didn’t awaken. He introduced himself to a skinny young guy named Walt who wore overalls over a shirtless, bony chest. “Can you replace a radiator hose?”
The man spat in the dirt. “No problem. Pull ’er in.”
Dell pulled the SUV into the place the man indicated, frowning when he saw the guy staring at Gabby through the window.
“Pretty girl,” Walt said when Dell climbed out to oversee the work. “Daughter?”
“No,” Dell said sharply. Christ, did she look that young, and he that old? “Girlfriend,” he felt compelled to add firmly, to divert the man’s attention.
Walt grunted and lifted the hood. “Hmm, nice repair job.”
“Thanks,” Dell said, further rankled.
“This’ll take me a few minutes.” Walt stopped and wrote something on a slip. “Take this to the cashier and she’ll ring you up.”
Dell opened the driver-side door to crack the windows in the SUV, his glance landing on Gabby’s heart-shaped face, flushed from the heat, long, golden lashes resting on high cheekbones, surrounded by curls that had sprung loose from her ponytail in the humidity. She did look more like a teenager than a woman he should be lusting after, but the swell of her breasts beneath her T-shirt and the memory of her breathless arousal when they had almost kissed under the hood proved that she was every ounce a woman.
A woman smart enough not to let him kiss her.
He frowned and locked the doors of the SUV, then walked into the area where sundries were sold to pay the cashier for the repair. While he was there, he bought a package of allergy medicine and a bottle of water for Gabby. By the time he returned, Walt was lowering the hood.
“Start her up,” he directed Dell.
Gabby stirred when he started the engine, but didn’t fully waken until he pulled from the uneven paved lot back onto the road.
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