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“Let’s go.” Flint handed her his clipboard and his sign and lifted a suitcase in each hand. He grimaced at the weight.
She decided to beat him to the punch with, “Go on, make the predictable tired old quip about rocks being in there. How about asking me if I packed everything but the kitchen sink?”
“Did you?” He headed toward the doors. “Now it’s your turn to laugh politely at the lame joke.”
“Ha, ha,” she said. “Was that polite enough?”
Though he carried the two heavy bags, he was striding along at a rate that made her half run to keep up with him. They left the terminal and headed toward the parking area, eventually reaching a champagne-colored Saturn.
Flint proceeded to load her bags into the trunk.
“I guess we won’t be taking this car into the Bad Hills,” Ashlinn said. She sounded nervous, even to herself.
She was nervous. Because it had just occurred to her that she was expected to climb inside this car with this man, whom she hardly knew. At night, in an unfamiliar city. She was too well-versed in stranger danger not to be uneasy. Alarm quickly followed. What should she do?
“That would be the Black Hills,” corrected Flint. He opened the passenger door for her and stood there, waiting for her to get in. “And you guessed right. My car stays home. We’re taking a big van with four-wheel drive and tires sturdy enough for the roughest terrain.”
Ashlinn hesitated beside the door and began to leaf through the pages on the clipboard, stalling for time. She couldn’t bring herself to move, let alone get into the car where the two of them would be alone together in the darkness.
She skipped over the ‘Asher Carey’ page and read aloud the names on the other four sheets. “Jack Hall. Etienne Bouvier. Rico Figueroa. Koji Yagano. They’re the other ones going on this trip?”
Flint nodded. “Hall is Australian, Bouvier is French, Figueroa from Argentina and Yagano from Japan. Each writes freelance articles for men’s travel-outdoor-adventure magazines in his own country.”
“Then there’s me, from the USA. The group is a veritable United Nations of travel magazines.” Ashlinn managed a faint smile.
“And Paradise Outdoors will get advertising and publicity in all those magazines. This trip of Carmody’s really was a good idea, and getting Tour & Travel to finance the whole thing took extraordinary salesmanship.” Flint’s irritation with his injured marketing chief appeared to soften.
“My entire staff is committed to taking the company into the global marketplace I don’t know how much you know about Paradise Outdoors, but we’ve grown from a small niche company selling specialized travel gear by catalog to a broader inventory and national customer base. Now we’re headed worldwide.” Flint’s face lighted with enthusiasm as he talked about his company. Ashlinn found herself studying him, and as she watched and listened, her fear was transformed into something else entirely. All of a sudden, she was excruciatingly aware of everything about him.
Like his height. He literally towered over her, and in her boots with their three-inch heels, she was nearly five-eight, which wasn’t exactly short.
He was strong too; he’d proven that by whisking along her ten-ton suitcases like feather pillows. The short sleeves of his white cotton shirt revealed the hard muscles of his arms.
Ashlinn swallowed hard He was tall and strong—and then there was the additional matter of his looks. Somehow, those hadn’t registered until now, either. He was very handsome, not to mention virile-looking.
Her mouth was dry. “Tall, dark, and handsome” was a cliché, but definitely applied to him. Words were her stock-in-trade, and Ashlinn realized she could come up with a thesaurusfull to describe Flint Paradise.
He seemed to be expecting some response from her. Floundering in the mind-shattering seas of sexual awareness, Ashlinn couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“My father started the business thirty years ago, and I took over as CEO after his death seven years ago. My staff instituted the full-color catalog, expanded the inventory and the mailing list and got a website on the Internet for cybersales. We’re well situated to take Paradise Outdoors into the millennium,” Flint proudly volunteered, with no prompting from her.
“Paradise is an unusual name, a good one for your company,” Ashlinn finally came up with something to say, but she winced upon hearing it aloud. Could that really be her? She sounded like a simp! Self-consciousness struck, accompanied by an adrenaline rush. Mature women of twenty-eight did not develop instant crushes, did they? Yet she was behaving as if that was exactly what had just happened to her.
Thank heavens Flint seemed unaware of it.
“We were told our great-grandfather chose the name Paradise,” he explained. “The chief was a Lakota Sioux and liked the sound of that particular Anglo word, so he decided to use it for his name.”
Flint’s eyes locked with Ashlinn’s.
“Lakota Sioux? Like in Dances with Wolves?”
“Yeah.” Flint gave a laugh. “I keep forgetting about that movie, but people, especially women, keep reminding me.”
Ashlinn suspected he was laughing at her but carried on anyway. “There’s a certain chic to being Native American,” she suggested.
Not to mention romance, added a teasing little voice in her head. And he does conjure up thoughts of romance, doesn’t he?
She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from Flint Paradise. He had a long straight nose, high cheekbones, a well-shaped mouth and his skin was the color of polished bronze. He really did bear a resemblance to a hero on the cover of an historical romance novel—not that she read them, she preferred her history straight and factual, not plagued by love. There were a few key differences, of course. Flint’s thick glossy black hair was cut short, and she was fairly certain that the male cover models wore theirs long and untamed. And Flint’s white designer polo shirt and khaki trousers were a far cry from the loin cloths and feathers favored on the book covers.
“Dad was Sioux and Mom was Irish,” Flint recited his bloodlines with a nonchalant shrug. “And my brother and sister and I prefer the term Indian to Native American. Just a personal preference, not a political statement either way”
She nodded her head, gazing into eyes that were almond-shaped and black as coal. When he looked at her the way he was doing now, his heated gaze seemed to liquefy her insides.
“We have to get going,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm. “Get in.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to balk, to refuse and run back into the airport terminal.
It would be for the best if she did, he decided, because just standing here looking at her during this time-filling, time-wasting conversation was turning him on so fast and so hard that the prospect of spending additional time with her, of sharing a tent with her. . .
That stunning realization struck him for the first time. The six men booked for the trip were to sleep in pairs in three tents. Hall was matched with Yagano, Bouvier with Figueroa, Sam Carmody with Asher Carey.
Which meant that Flint Paradise was assigned a tent with Ashlinn Carey! He was supposed to sleep in closest proximity to her for the next two weeks’
Flint removed his hand at the same moment she jumped back. He could still feel the softness of her skin under his palm, and he robotically flexed his fingers. That he had touched her at all was uncharacteristic of him. He wasn’t the touchy-feely sort, given to casual physical contact. Yet he’d reached out and taken Ashlinn by the arm, which practically qualified as an intimate act for him! Such behavior was way out of line, Flint reproved himself. After all, the arrangement between Tour & Travel magazine and Paradise Outdoors made them colleagues, professionals working together.
But then, she was supposed to be Asher Carey, a red-blooded man’s man, not Ashlinn, an irresistible temptress.
They couldn’t go on this trip together. It was as simple as that. Now, all he had to do was to tell her so, to cancel the entire excursion and reimburse Tour & Travel and the other four members of the expedition.
Ashlinn moistened her lips. His touch seemed to be seared onto her skin like a brand. She could still feel the warmth and strength of his big hand. She couldn’t stay, she decided. Not when she felt this forceful attraction to Flint Paradise. It was both scary and thrilling, like being on a roller coaster heading toward the top of a precipitous drop at warp speed.
Ashlinn had always hated roller coasters.
She would tell him that she was leaving Sioux Falls, that she was going back into the terminal right now, and no, he needn’t bother to help her carry her suitcases back inside, thanks very much. She was going to fly back to New York tonight if she had to go by way of Seattle to do so.
But despite the decisive plans being concocted in their heads, neither Flint nor Ashlinn spoke a word
Flint continued to hold the door for her, and she slipped into the front seat of the car, watching as he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed inside.
Both simultaneously buckled their seatbelts The clicks of the metal clasps were the only sounds heard within the confines of the car.
Flint turned the ignition key and the engine kicked into gear
They were on their way.
Two
“Earlier this evening, I got the key to your motel room and put some of your new Paradise Outdoors gear in there,” Flint said at last, breaking the silence between them.
It was rare for him to take the lead in making conversation, but he felt that need now. Ashlinn’s presence was galvanizing.
“You have the key to my room?”
He could guess what she must think. “I didn’t keep it, of course. I turned it back in at the desk,” he assured her hastily.
Suddenly a vivid erotic fantasy flashed to mind, featuring himself slipping the key into the lock and entering her room where she waited for him in the darkness, lying on the bed wearing nothing but a drowsy, welcoming smile.
Flint coughed and gave his head a quick shake. Luckily, his mind cleared.
“You’ll have to repack, using our extended-journey backpack.” It was a command, not a suggestion.
“You actually expect me to take two weeks’ worth of clothes and supplies from my two full-size suitcases and stuff it all into a backpack?” Ashlinn sounded edgy and incredulous.
But she was glad they were talking again. Sitting in total silence while the car whizzed along the interstate highway left her too much time to imagine what lay ahead. Already a nervous anticipation was building within her.
“Yes, I actually expect you to do that, Ashlinn.”
The sound of her name on his lips stunned her back into silence.
It was stupid to get so rattled because he’d simply called her by her own name, Ashlinn admonished herself. Except calling her by name made things between them seem personal.
And of course, there was nothing personal between them; there was absolutely nothing between them at all. This foolish crush she seemed to have developed on him was certainly one-sided and didn’t count. She’d better quash it fast, before she truly humiliated herself.
“Where will I keep my suitcases and the things left behind in them?” Ashlinn was pleased that her voice sounded crisp and efficient, no small feat when she still felt like a dazed schoolgirl. “Do I have the hotel room for the full two weeks?”
It seemed a possibility at this point. With Tour & Travel financing the entire expedition, further extravagance on Junior’s part wouldn’t surprise her at all.
“Junior isn’t that much of a spendthrift. Not when he’s not the recipient of his own largesse.”
Ashlinn looked over at Flint, startled. It was as if he’d read her mind.
They traded brief spontaneous smiles, then swiftly, rather guiltily, reset their frowns.
“You can leave the rest of your belongings in my office at company headquarters,” Flint said stiffly. “We’ll have to head there first tomorrow morning to get you fitted with hiking boots and some special socks and, uh,” he cleared his throat. “A few personal things the catalog carries, things that are specifically sized and designed for women”
“First? You don’t mean we’re going there before dawn, do you?”
“We have to. The other guys already have everything and will expect to leave on schedule. They arrived this afternoon, as Carmody advised everybody to do. You’re the only member of the group who insisted on taking a late flight in.”
“I didn’t insist. I was told the departure time and handed a ticket. And now I’ve got an assignment to complete, if I want to keep my job.”
She turned toward him. “Will you help me do that, Flint?”
It was the first time she’d said his name and the effect upon Flint was hot and instant. He shifted uncomfortably and hoped she wasn’t looking at his lap because his body wasn’t keeping any secret of his attraction to her. It responded reflexively, despite his attempt to will otherwise.
“I’ll—do what I can,” he mumbled, forbidding his eyes to look her way. He trained his gaze ahead, on the monotonous flow of traffic on the interstate.
“Good. Thank you. The first thing we need is to bring some other women along on this trip,” Ashlinn said briskly.
Flint tensed. She’d wrung a simple note of compliance from him, and already she was giving orders. She thought all she had to do was to whisper his name and he’d melt like a snowball in July. Well, Ashlinn Carey was in for a surprise. His sobriquet, “Iceman,” had been deservedly earned. He didn’t melt for anyone.
“More women? You want to make this trip into some kind of Beach Blanket Black Hills?” His voice lowered, his tone both cold and fierce. “Forget it, Ashlinn.”
This time she wasn’t charmed by his use of her name. “Do you really think I’m advocating some kind of Naked Singles romp in the great outdoors? Ha, you wish! All I mean is that we need more women on this trip to curb the bouts of macho male bonding and competition. You know they’re bound to occur.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped Flint. “I wonder if you do.”
“I certainly do. I know that one woman among five men is practically a nonentity. The five of you will forge ahead without me, you’ll do things I simply can’t. I know how guys act, I have an older brother and two stepbrothers. And I also know that having a balanced number of women in a group sets a different tone. The presence of women provides certain guidelines and constraints and limits to the. . .”
“You’re imparting the viewpoint of women-as-the-old-ball-and-chain? Interesting.”
“Of course, should you guys still insist on jumping off cliffs or swimming in hypothermia-inducing water, at least I’ll have some company picking berries while you’re doing it.”
Flint smirked. “Who would have thought a sophisticated big-city lady editor would attest to the stereotypes of action-oriented, risk-taking male and passive berry-picking female?”
“Who would have thought?” she echoed, not rising to the bait. “Will you call some women you know and ask them to come with us?”
“We leave tomorrow at dawn, remember? That’s not enough notice. Nobody can just pick up and leave so quickly.”
“You could at least try. Call your girlfriend. Won’t she jump at the chance to spend the next two weeks with you?”
Ashlinn attempted to ignore the flush that suffused her face and spread throughout her whole body. She wasn’t fishing for information, she assured herself; she was merely confirming the inevitable. Odds were great that a man like Flint Paradise—handsome and successful—did have a girlfriend. Maybe several
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Flint said bluntly.
A swell of joy surged through her followed by a rush of embarrassment. If he were to guess. . .
Ashlinn shuddered. “Then call some of the women, uh, you date casually,” she strove to sound blasé.
“I don’t date,” Flint growled through his teeth. “I don’t have the time for it. My work is my life. Paradise Outdoors is all I want and need. Is that so difficult to understand?”
Her eyes widened. “I get the feeling you’ve had this conversation before—with somebody who puts you very much on the defensive.”
“I’m not on the defen—” he abruptly paused, then breathed a sigh. “Okay, maybe I am, a little.”
“Who nags you about working too much and too hard?” Ashlinn pressed, curious. “Your parents? Mine accuse me of being too dedicated to my career. They have a ‘you’re letting life pass you by’ speech that I can recite word for word. I hear it almost every Sunday during our weekly phone calls.”
“My folks are both dead, so no, they don’t worry about my lack of a social life.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. Has to be a sister, then I know how sisters are, I have a younger one plus two stepsisters.”
“My sister is in her senior year in medical school, and she’s as devoted to her work as I am to mine No, Eva would never nag me, but my brother has been known to make some pointed comments about my priorities.”
“Brothers can be just as interfering as sisters,” Ashlinn conceded.
Flint angled a quick look at her.
A shaft of moonlight cast her delicate profile in relief. Stop it! he admonished himself Think of her as a customer, not a lovely desirable woman. Pretend she is Asher Carey and make trivial conversation. Become bored, immediately’
“You already mentioned a slew of brothers.” Listening to anyone drone on about their family normally had a narcotic effect upon him. Surely it would be no different with her, no matter how sexy she was. “How big is your family anyway?”
“Big. We’re a Brady Bunch-type clan. My mom had three kids when she married my stepdad, who had four.”
“Now there’s a prescription for disaster!” Flint exclaimed. Unfortunately, being startled and appalled was the antithesis of boredom.
Ashlinn looked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“Because it’s so obvious. Keep in mind the Bradys are fictional characters, Ashlinn. In real life. . .”
“Things worked out well,” Ashlinn cut in. “The seven of us are all grown up and on our own and the folks are happily retired in Florida. See, a fairy-tale ending.”
“I don’t like fairy tales,” Flint growled. “Never have. I can’t suspend the disbelief.”
“How about sociology, then? The Careys are a successful case of a modern blended family.”
“Even fairy tales are more believable than that.”
“You couldn’t be this negative on the subject unless you’ve had some personal involvement with it.” Her interest was piqued. “Were you married to a woman with kids who. . .”
“God, no” His invocation of the Almighty was heartfelt. “I have never been married, nor do I intend to be. The whole point of marriage is to have a family and I already have more family than I know what to do with. The last thing I need or want is any more relatives.”
His vehemence amused her. “Who’s the worst?”
“Are you taking about relatives?”
She nodded. “If my family were polled, I’m sure I’d win the title of The Worst One. I was an overly dramatic child and a sarcastic, bratty teen. I like to think I’ve improved as an adult, but I’m afraid that among my relatives, my reputation is set in cement.”
“Your family has yet to experience the worst,” Flint assured her. “My two half sisters hold the Worldwide Worst title. Of course, their late unlamented mother made Lucrezia Borgia look like a real sweetheart, so they come by it naturally, I suppose.”
“If their black-hearted mom wasn’t yours too, that means you shared the same father,” Ashlinn surmised easily.
“Yes, Ben Paradise.” Flint’s black eyes were hard. “A year after my mother’s death, Dad married Marcine, who spawned Camryn and Kaylin.”
“Sounds like you’re still holding a grudge against her for that.”
“Among other things. And after observing my father’s misery with Marcine, I have no desire to experience the gothic horror known as marriage first-hand.”
Ashlinn wasn’t sure if she ought to offer a counterargument. Emphasizing the success of her family seemed insensitive at best, boastful at worst, when Flint’s own fell into the dysfunctional category.
They both lapsed into a silence which soon grew oppressive to Ashlinn.
“Now that you’re all adults, do you ever see your half sisters?” she asked. She knew how easy it would be to sever family ties as an adult; she had to make a special effort to keep in touch with her own siblings and steps, who were scattered all over the country. She did it willingly. But then, she didn’t consider any of them to be satanic spawns. Hopefully, they no longer saw her as one.
“Camryn and Kaylin aren’t adults, they’re teenagers and live with my brother here in town.” His tone was dour. “So I see them.”
“They’re in Sioux Falls?” An idea, born of desperation, suddenly dawned on her. “We could ask them to come camping with us tomorrow!”
“Have you heard a word I said?” Flint was astounded. “Why in the world would I take those two hellions camping? I wouldn’t take them anywhere! I can barely make it through an occasional dinner at my brother’s home with them, let alone two full weeks of. . .”
“But we need more females on the trip, and you haven’t come up with anybody else. Anyway, chances are better for teens to be able to go somewhere at the last minute than for. . .”
“Absolutely not!” Flint cut in again. “If you knew Camryn and Kaylin, you would realize how truly terrible your idea really is.”
“Introduce me to them,” Ashlinn said boldly. “If they’re as bad as you say, then obviously, I won’t want them along. But if you’re harboring some kind of grudge against two perfectly normal kids just because you didn’t like their mother marrying your father, then I want them on the trip.”
“Lady, if you’re trying to infuriate me, you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest expectations”
“I’m beginning to believe I’m on the right track,” countered Ashlinn. “After all, they live with your brother. He must like them, so how awful can they be? Unless you can’t stand your brother, either?”
“I love my brother!” Flint declared with a fervor that touched her. “But unfortunately, he has an exaggerated sense of duty. In fact, Rafe is probably the most dutiful person on the planet. He took in the girls after their mother died three years ago and kept them, even though they’ve wreaked havoc on his life.”
“Hmm,” said Ashlinn.
“You don’t believe me?” Flint was indignant. “Okay, I’ll let you be the judge. I’ll take you to Rafe’s house and you can meet the girls. One minute in their company will have you convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t want to spend another one. They’re all night owls, so we can just drop in.”
His tone was so ominous that Ashlinn felt more than a little apprehensive. Did she really want to meet two bad seeds? She buoyed her courage by thinking of Junior, the boy boss. If she could endure working for him day after day, taking a few minutes to assess Flint’s allegedly demonic half sisters would be a breeze.
Flint was heartily regretting his rash challenge by the time he turned onto Deer Trail Lane, a tree-lined street in a well-tended housing development. Bringing Ashlinn here was stupid beyond imagining, but since he’d let her goad him into it, he could only blame himself. His jaw clenched.
“This is a nice neighborhood,” Ashlinn remarked politely as they drove along the long street.
“My brother used to own half a duplex farther down this road, but he bought a single-family house a few months ago. Seems like he’s always working on the place. His latest project is to convert the garage into an extra room.”
Flint sighed wistfully, remembering better days, when Rafe had plenty of spare time to spend with him and Eva. Not anymore. It had been months since the three of them had gone out to dinner together or taken in a movie