Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss

Chapter Two

AS JADE left his office, Rhys leaned back, exhaled slowly and rubbed his right temple where the beginnings of a headache hovered.

He didn’t get headaches. Discounting the woman who’d just left. She was a headache just waiting to happen, every prissy inch of her.

From the top of her designer suit that would fund his payroll for a month to the bottom of her exorbitantly expensive shoes, Jade Beacham was one big headache.

She might be a stunner, with those endless legs, big breasts, huge dark Bambi eyes and long hair the colour of double-shot espresso, but he’d known the instant he’d first seen her snooping around the office she’d be more trouble than she was worth.

She had rich, uptight, society princess stamped all over her.

The expensive clothes, the immaculate make-up, the cultured accent, all added up to one thing. He’d lost his mind in hiring her, favour to her hot-shot dad not withstanding.

He hated owing anyone so when Fred had requested a job for his precious little girl, he’d reluctantly agreed.

Didn’t mean he had to like it.

The moment she’d strutted down the corridor as if she owned the place, totally at home casing the joint when she should’ve been waiting, he’d wanted to make her jump through hoops, wanted her off guard.

So he’d gone through that odd scenario: testing her, pushing her, expecting her to fling her hair over one shoulder, hitch her designer bag higher and stroll out of here back to her cushy life.

She’d surprised him: by sticking around, by putting up with his crap and, most of all, by appearing genuinely happy when he’d given her the job.

It begged the question: why would a wealthy society princess need a job? Why here? What had happened to her life in Sydney for her to end up thousands of miles away?

Shaking his head, he snatched up the phone, not caring about the time difference between here and Melbourne. He needed to talk to Callum. Now.

‘Callum Cartwright.’

‘Hey, bro, you still at the office?’

An ear-splitting squeal gave him his answer before Callum responded.

‘Uh-uh, I’m home minding the twins. Starr’s understudy for the lead in Mamma Mia, and it’s opening night.’

‘Good for her.’

He paused as a ‘gimme now’ filtered down the phone, the demand so like Callum when he’d been a child that he laughed. ‘Is that my favourite niece, the gorgeous Miss Polly?’

‘Little tyrant more like it.’

A loud crash swiftly followed by tears had him grinning more as Callum cursed and muttered, ‘Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.’

‘No worries.’

While his brother attended to domestic duties, he flicked through Jade’s résumé, her lack of skills taunting him.

Realistically, if he hadn’t owed Fred—who’d set him up with a major cruise line to use Wild Thing for their tours when he’d first started the business—he would’ve continued interviewing other candidates. But he didn’t have time with another tour starting shortly. So he’d hired her, towering heels, sassy suit and all.

That figure-hugging suit had been something else: fitted jacket, pencil skirt, clinging to curves that made his hands itch. If she looked that good in a suit, he wondered what she’d look like in his preferred outfit for women: skin-tight jeans, turtle-neck sweater and a wind-break?

He bet faded denim would fit her just fine, hugging that great butt he’d glimpsed as she’d left his office, and for a crazy moment he regretted he wouldn’t be around to find out.

The way her eyes had blazed and her lips had pursed when he’d flirted he guessed a fiery passion for life pounded through her veins. And where there was fire, there was usually a raging inferno of hot woman just waiting for a soothing touch to douse the flames.

It had been far too long since he’d played with fire, with any woman, and he had a sudden insane wish to see if Jade wanted to set off some pyrotechnics with him.

‘I’m back.’ Callum huffed into the phone while silence momentarily reigned. ‘I’ve set them up with crackers and juice in front of the TV. That should give me about five minutes’ peace.’

‘Don’t know how you do it.’

And he didn’t, considering they’d never had a good role model for a father. Frank Cartwright had ignored both of them, only having time for their eldest brother, Archie. And once Archie had died in a car accident, their recalcitrant father had closed off completely.

Even now, after the successes they’d made of their lives, Frank rarely acknowledged them, acting as if his younger sons didn’t exist. Which made Rhys admire Callum and the job he was doing with the twins even more.

‘It’s hard work, tougher than any business deal, but I love it.’

He heard the genuine emotion in his brother’s voice, the sense of achievement, and for a split second he envied him. Not that he’d ever settle down long enough to have a family. Uh-uh, he’d leave that to the people who wanted ties to one place, to one person, and that sure as hell wasn’t him.

Being emotionally invested with anyone, even kids, was tantamount to handing over his heart and begging for it to be carved up. Too risky, too painful, too masochistic.

‘So what’s up?’

Rubbing the spot over his left breastbone that had flared to life for a startling second, he tossed Jade’s résumé back on his desk.

‘I interviewed Jade Beacham today.’

‘She’s great.’

‘Hmm…’

His non-committal response guaranteed Callum would push further.

‘You didn’t like her?’

He liked her too much, that was the problem, and it had nothing to do with her role as tour guide for the company.

‘It’s not that. She just seems too green.’

‘We all had to start somewhere.’

Fair call, considering he’d spent years travelling the world after he’d finished his degree, moving from job to job, place to place, not willing to stop for fear the past—and the memories of his dead brother—would catch up with him.

If it hadn’t been for Callum helping him set up Wild Thing he’d still be wandering, chasing shadows.

‘You know Fred Beacham called in a favour to have me hire her?’

‘Yeah, but after the initial screening I knew she’d be a good candidate anyway.’ Callum paused, cleared his throat. ‘You hate owing anybody anything. Is that what this is about?’

Rhys bit back his instant rebuttal. Was that why hiring the rich princess irked? Because he’d owed Fred and had had his favour called in?

Ignoring the question, he fired one of his own. ‘You move in the same circles as the Beachams. Do you know why Fred was so gung-ho about a job for Jade?’

‘Beats me.’

Callum paused as a long squeal interrupted their conversation, his resigned sigh making him chuckle. ‘Haven’t seen Fred socially for ages, not since the terrible two were born.’

Rhys laughed. ‘You’d take a stake to the heart for those kids and you know it.’

‘Got me.’ Callum’s rueful chuckles petered out. ‘You coming to visit soon? Like sometime in the next decade or so, before they get their driving licences?’

‘Yeah, yeah, sure,’ he said, despising himself for how easily the lie tripped off his tongue. He had no intention of meeting his niece and nephew any time soon. Seeing their beaming faces in the photos Callum constantly emailed was bad enough, their toothy grins and chubby cheeks and all-round happiness exacerbating the sense of loss he strove to ignore every day.

Callum wouldn’t be put off for ever but, thankfully, he let his reticence slide this time. ‘Look, why don’t you give Jade a trial? See how she handles the job for a few months?’

A few short months if he had anything to say about it. He hadn’t stipulated a time frame with Fred, just agreed to give his darling daughter a job. Wouldn’t be his fault if he had to fire her for incompetence.

‘That’s what I had in mind.’

A loud, prolonged shout of ‘da-a-a-a-d-d-dy’ heralded the end of their phone call.

‘I’ll leave you to it, bro.’

‘Thanks for the call.’

Callum hesitated, making him wonder what was really going on with his reserved older sibling.

‘From our initial interview I got the feeling Jade really needs a break. So give her a fair go, okay?’

‘Shall do. Catch you later.’

As he hung up he managed a wry grin. Looked as if Jade had added his brother to her growing fan club.

‘Excuse me, Rhys. Do you have a minute?’ Cheri stuck her head around the door.

His latest secretary was the best he’d ever had: punctual, reliable and efficient, qualities he valued in an employee. Particularly skilled at handling problems, she dealt with them swiftly and with minimal fuss, allowing him to concentrate on running the company. And she didn’t bat her eyelashes at him or wear microminis and bend over his desk like the last bimbo he’d had the misfortune to hire.

‘Sure. What’s up?’

He hoped his latest employee would be half as competent as Cheri, though he wouldn’t mind if Jade batted her eyelashes at him. Not one little bit. As for bending over his desk in a short skirt…

‘We have a problem.’

He wrenched his attention out of the gutter. Cheri wasn’t prone to exaggeration so he braced himself for the worst.

‘Allan called. He has glandular fever and won’t be doing the season this year. I called our two back-ups and both are unavailable. What do you want me to do?’

He swore softly. The wilderness safaris couldn’t run with three people, especially when one of them was a novice.

‘Thanks, Cheri, leave it with me.’

She exited quietly, casting a worried glance in his direction.

‘Damn.’

He grabbed the nearest pen, twirling it between his fingers, a stupid habit he had for doing his best thinking.

Wild Thing was more than a business; it was his pride and joy. He’d developed it from scratch, starting as a park naturalist for various national parks all around the world before migrating to Canada and venturing into the beautiful wilds of Alaska. He’d nurtured the idea of forming his own tour company and with dedication, patience and countless hours of hard work—plus the steadying influence of Callum—he’d finally succeeded.

This season promised to be the best yet, with two more cruise lines signing up for the luxury tours his company was famous for, and there was no way he’d squelch on a business deal.

The pen twirled faster the harder he thought, mulling over solutions as he stared at the print hanging on the opposite wall: a majestic bald eagle soared above snow-capped mountains, the caption FREEDOM in bold letters under it.

A germ of an idea sprouted in the back of his mind, yet he stifled it.

Don’t even think about it.

However, the harder he tried to ignore it, the more it nagged until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Cursing under his breath, he picked up the phone. ‘Cheri, tag me onto the travel arrangements you’re making for Jade and the boys, and arrange my equipment. I’m going to Alaska.’

He slammed the phone down without waiting for a response and redialled before he had a chance to renege on the stupidest thing he’d done in a long while.

‘Aldo, I need you in my office pronto. You’re acting CEO for the next six months and we’ve a lot of planning to do. See you in five minutes.’

As he hung up on his deputy, he glanced at the print again. It mocked him. He hadn’t felt free in a long time; responsibility and guilt put paid to that.

Now, he was heading back to the one place he truly loved and it scared him to death.

Chapter Three

FOR the first time in her life, Jade had a job. A real, honest-to-goodness job, with a wage and co-workers and a boss who’d given her two sleepless nights in a row.

While acing the interview had been the confidence boost she needed, she still hadn’t quite got her head around the interview itself.

Rhys Cartwright might be hot stuff, but the guy was seriously weird. All that subterfuge and play-acting reminded her of the people she’d left behind, though her parents and Julian would eclipse Rhys in the Oscar-winning stakes.

Shaking her head to dislodge the painful memories, she zipped her backpack shut and hoisted it onto her shoulders, wriggling to get comfortable, testing the weight.

Not bad, considering she’d over-packed as usual. She’d happily walked away from her couture ball gowns, had the foresight to pack all her winter gear. She’d probably stand out like a designer snowman in her gear but who cared? Didn’t matter, as long as she did a great job and gained the reference she needed to enter uni as a mature biology student.

Pity weirdo boss with the Superman eyes wasn’t coming to Alaska. He might be odd, but she could’ve really learned a lot from someone with his experience.

She’d done a Google search on him before the interview, had been blown away by his field experience. Rhys Cartwright wasn’t your average CEO. He’d travelled the world after gaining his degree, had seen more places and done more exciting things than she’d ever dreamed about.

She envied him. While she’d been attending polo matches and nightclub openings and charity galas, he’d been out in the wilderness—the Amazon, the Arctic—making a difference.

Not that she hadn’t loved her old life. She had, with every breath she took. But it had been a lie, all of it, and when the world as she knew it had collapsed around her ears she’d been left with the bitter knowledge the life she’d loved had been rather empty anyway.

She might have walked away from a brilliant marriage in the making and parents she’d idolised but, in shrugging off the constraints of her old life, she’d been reborn. Emotionally, psychologically, maybe even physically; for there was no other explanation for her irrational reaction to Rhys’ raw sexuality.

Her hormones, bruised and battered from Julian’s neglect while he’d focused on work, had jump-started in a big way the instant she’d met her charismatic boss. She should be relieved he wouldn’t be accompanying her to Alaska.

Then why the annoying sliver of disappointment?

With an exasperated huff she dumped her backpack, rolled her shoulders and glanced at her watch. She had two hours before meeting her new co-workers at the airport. Back in Sydney, she would’ve grabbed a latte, surfed the Net on her iPhone or colour co-ordinated her outfit for that night’s upcoming party.

Here in Vancouver, about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime, she did the only sane thing: flipped open her Lonely Planet guide and started reading.

Suck it up. You can do this.

Pasting a fake smile on her face—a smile honed through many years of attending gala functions as part of the Beacham brigade—Jade strode towards two men wearing Wild Thing polo shirts.

Her legs wobbled the entire journey across the tarmac as she wished for an errant plane to drop on her head.

Whatever made her think for one stupid second she could swap stilettos for hiking boots, angora for anoraks? She was a novice, an inexperienced one at that, about to spend six months in the Alaskan wilderness.

Sure, she’d always loved nature, had thrived on school excursions to the Outback, to the Blue Mountains, her love of cold weather flourishing when her class had camped near the foot of Mount Kosciusko.

She’d begged her parents to take her camping after that. Predictably, they’d turned up their noses and chosen a first-class trip to a six-star spa resort in Thailand instead.

So she’d become smarter then, researching her favourite cold spots around the world—Val d’Isère in France, Queenstown in New Zealand, Sahoro in Japan—and pointing out the luxury accommodation and spa treatments to ensure her parents would visit. While they’d sunk cocktails in the bar and been smothered in caviar facials, she’d explored on her own, following trails off the beaten track, collecting local flora, revelling in the sub-zero temperatures.

She’d loved every second of those trips and now she had a chance to follow a secret passion: a true love of the outdoors. No way would she allow a last-minute attack of nerves to stop her.

Reaching the guys, she smiled and held out her hand.

‘Jade Beacham.’

The taller guy shook her hand firmly. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack Summer and this oaf is Cody Winter.’

Cody, shorter, rounder and shaggier—he reminded her of a giant teddy—elbowed his colleague and sent her a warm grin. ‘Don’t mind him. He lives in the wild most of the time.’

She laughed. ‘Summer and Winter?’

The guys chortled. ‘Strange, but true. Gets a laugh out of the tourists.’

‘I bet.’

Jack cupped his ear. ‘Is that an Aussie accent I hear? You from Down Under?’

‘Sydney.’

She loved the buzz of the Harbour city: the vibe, the excitement, the eclectic mix of people and restaurants and shops. Sydney never slept, the perfect party town for a party princess. Who had flung off her crown, kicked off her glass slippers and left her Prince Charming to turn back into the toad he was.

‘Did you go to the Olympics? That would’ve been awesome!’

She shook her head, remembering the prissy party she’d attended with her folks instead. She’d been mad keen to attend the opening ceremony, but her folks had been invited to Dubai for the launch of some new hotel so they’d flown there, followed by a whirlwind visit to London and a stopover in Paris for a soirée on the way home.

She’d missed the whole Olympics but in typical Beacham fashion, Daddy had taken her to the next Olympics in Athens, flying first-class all the way.

‘No, I missed out. Watched it on TV though.’

She could see Cody, the more perceptive of the two, noted her discomfort.

‘Don’t worry, Aussie girl. Where we’re going you’ll see more sport than you could ever wish for.’

‘Really?’

The image of fierce lumberjacks in checked jackets sprang to mind though, apart from fishing, she didn’t think Alaska had much sport.

Jack rolled his eyes. ‘You ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’ve seen the way the tourists pour off the cruise ships, trample through the bush, jostle each other for the best position in the bus or canoe, then push and shove their way towards the food at the end of a tour. A medal-winning performance to the last person standing.’

She laughed, relieved the boys had a sense of humour. It would make the next six months a lot easier if they didn’t resent the newbie and concentrated on making her laugh instead.

‘Hey, boss, come to wish us bon voyage?’

Jack’s question came from left field as a strange prickling awareness raised the hairs on the nape of her neck.

Someone stood close behind her. Too close. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was: her flip-flopping belly was a great recognition device.

‘No bon voyage. This time I’m coming along to keep an eye on you.’

Oh, no…

Not wanting to appear rude, she turned, sent him a curt nod in greeting.

Rhys Cartwright had lost the suit; unfortunately, faded denim jeans highlighted lean legs, the bottle-green polo shirt increasing the impressive breadth of his shoulders. Yep, definitely a superhero bod. And now he was coming with them? No way.

‘That’s great, boss.’ Cody extended a hand.

Yeah, real great.

‘Cool.’ Jack shook his hand too as she surreptitiously cleared her throat, trying to ease the sudden constriction at the thought of Rhys accompanying them.

While the boys busied themselves with the luggage and equipment, Rhys leaned closer, invading her personal space with his own special brand of ka-pow.

‘Needless to say, I’ll be watching you too.’

His ice-blue eyes pinned her with their brilliance as she suppressed a shudder of anticipation. Must be her eagerness to learn from him. Yeah, that was why her tummy tumbled and her palms grew clammy at the thought of spending six long months in the wilderness with her new boss. Her story and she was sticking to it.

‘You don’t have to worry. I’ll do my best.’

And she fully intended to. She had no intention of botching this opportunity and ending up with her dreams in tatters. Or, worse, having to return to Sydney embarrassed.

‘All very well and good, but is your best going to be good enough?’

His low voice might have been laced with amusement, but his wary stare hadn’t eased. If anything, he was studying her with a strange intentness that raised goose bumps of foreboding.

It was almost as if he expected her to fail, as if he knew she had no real qualifications and had crammed that first-aid course over the last month to add to her CV so it wouldn’t be a total blank.

She knew she could do this. She’d grown up around people from all walks of life, had socialised from the time she could talk, so how hard could it be leading a bunch of tourists around?

‘You may be used to batting those long eyelashes to get what you want back home, Princess, but it isn’t going to cut it where we’re headed.’

Shock warred with indignation as she clamped her lips shut to stop her mouth from dropping open.

Princess? Implying she flirted her way through any situation? Where the hell did this guy get off?

As a host of indignant retorts pinged from her brain to her mouth, she caught the challenging gleam in his eyes, the smug expression.

He wanted her to bite back, wanted to rile her so she’d retaliate. Why? So he could fire her before she’d really started? Or was this more of the same warped game he’d started during that bizarre interview?

Whatever, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She had a job to do, whether he wanted her here or not.

Mustering her best innocent expression, she gazed at him with fake demureness. ‘Really? You don’t think this will cut it in Alaska?’

She fluttered the very eyelashes he’d taken a swipe at, scoring a minor victory when his smile waned and he backed up a fraction.

So, he liked to be in control and didn’t like to be challenged? She’d have to remember that if he gave her any more grief.

‘If the eyelash thing doesn’t work out, guess I could always use the Princess title, see how that impresses the plebs.’

Amusement gleamed in his piercing blue eyes, radiating a heat that curled her toes. ‘For someone with no qualifications, in her first job, you’re impressively poised.’

She wished he’d stop staring at her like that. She’d have no problem keeping warm in Alaska with those baby blues doing their thing.

Feigning nonchalance, she shrugged. ‘I’ve handled bigger challenges.’

Like confronting her dad with what she’d seen, going to her mum with the truth, discovering her fiancé wasn’t the guy she thought he was, escaping her old life because it was all one big sham and flying halfway around the world for a new start.

So, yeah, she knew a thing or two about challenges.

‘Come on, you two. Get a move on. We’ve got a plane to catch.’ Jack jerked his thumb towards a trolley where Cody was loading equipment.

Rhys turned away, but not before she’d seen the speculative expression on his face, as if he hadn’t expected her to be so feisty. What did he expect? She might be inexperienced careerwise, but she’d handled a lot worse than him during her time on the Sydney party circuit.