Книга - Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss

Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss
Nicola Marsh


Her red-hot boss definitely shouldn’t be on her ‘To-Do’ list!When glittering socialite Jade Beacham’s life falls apart she’s determined to make a completely fresh start. Packing away her designer wardrobe, she heads out to the arctic splendour of Alaska to become deliciously dangerous Rhys Cartwright’s newest – and feistiest! – employee.Expecting a high-maintenance princess, Rhys finds Jade’s enthusiasm and natural beauty surprising…and outrageously enticing! If working together is wicked torture, then giving in to temptation is worse – as their blistering night together plays havoc with Rhys’s strict ‘one night only’ rule…









Praise for Nicola Marsh:


About MARRIAGE: FOR BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?: ‘Awash in passion, sensuality, and plenty of sparks. The terrific characters immediately capture your attention, and from there the pages go flying by.’

—www.romantictimes.com

About TWO-WEEK MISTRESS:

‘Funny, witty and sensually enticing, TWO-WEEK MISTRESS by Nicola Marsh left me laughing at the antics of her characters while enjoying the sensuality of this novel.’

—www.cataromance.com

About TRIP WITH THE TYCOON:

‘Sterling characters, an exotic setting and crackling sexual tension make for a great read.’

—www.romantictimes.com


‘What now?’

Jade could barely see in the dim street lighting, but she heard the exasperation in Rhys’s voice.



‘You’re ticked off. Not a good start to our working relationship. I don’t want to leave things like that—tense, awkward.’



She shrugged, feeling more foolish by the minute—a feeling which only increased as she focussed on the patch of smooth bronze skin at the base of his throat.



The colour of his skin matched her favourite crème caramel dessert…oh, so tempting…A bizarre urge to lick it popped into her mind, and an inane craving to taste him urged her to close the short gap between them and…Just one little lick. Surely that wouldn’t be harmful?



Lost in a fanciful haze, she missed the moment he loosened his grip and started running his hands over her upper arms. And though she wore a woollen jumper under her own parka her skin tingled.



‘Doesn’t seem too tense now.’



She stared at his lips, transfixed. The last thing she needed was a kiss from her boss. What she wanted—now, that was a different matter entirely…





Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss


By




Nicola Marsh











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




About the Author


NICOLA MARSH has always had a passion for writing and reading. As a youngster, she devoured books when she should have been sleeping, and later kept a diary whose content could be an epic in itself! These days, when she’s not enjoying life with her husband and sons in her home city of Melbourne, she’s at her computer, creating the romances she loves, in her dream job. Visit Nicola’s website at www.nicolamarsh.com for the latest news of her books.

Don’t miss Nicola’s next novel,

DESERTED ISLAND, DREAMY EX!

on sale next month in

Mills & Boon’s® exciting new Riva series!

Recent titles by the same author:

THREE TIMES A BRIDESMAID

OVERTIME IN THE BOSS’S BED

A TRIP WITH A TYCOON

MARRIAGE: FOR BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?

TWO WEEKS IN THE MAGNATE’S BED

THE BOSS’S BEDROOM AGENDA


For my original Alaskan lumberjack: Martin, this one’s for you, babe.




Chapter One


A SCORNED woman needed a new start and Jade had flown from Sydney to Vancouver to get it.

Nothing or no one could stand in her way now.

Just let them try.

She adjusted her suit jacket, smoothed her skirt and approached the reception desk, a black marble semi-circle with Wild Thing emblazoned across the front in large silver letters.

‘Hi. I’m Jade Beacham, here to see Mr Cartwright.’

The receptionist, a cool blonde who looked as if she’d stepped off the cover of Vogue, pointed to a nearby chair. ‘Take a seat. I’ll let Mr Cartwright know you’re here.’

Ignoring the nerves tumbling through her belly like sugar-overloaded mice, she perched on the edge of a chair, reluctant to sit back for fear of creasing her skirt. Thankfully, she’d had the sense to grab a few of her designer suits before she’d fled her old life, and wearing her fitted sable pinstripe suit, the familiarity of it gave her some stability in a world turned topsy-turvy a few weeks ago.

Her mind drifted for a nanosecond…Had it only been three weeks since she’d discovered everything, everyone, she believed in had lied to her? That the people she admired the most, the people she loved, were living a sham?

Realising her fingers were cramping from clutching her bag so tight, she deliberately relaxed them, labelling the memories of her former life as a place she didn’t want to go; especially not now, when she had to nail this interview.

Her future depended on it.

Better she concentrate on mentally rehearsing her spiel, revising every detail she’d learned about Wild Thing, the world-renowned company famous for its top-end Alaskan wilderness tours.

Thanks to Callum Cartwright, the hot-shot executive who’d interviewed her back home as part of an elaborate screening process, she had a chance at nailing this job.

He’d made it clear that his brother’s company Wild Thing accepted very few applicants and expected the best from their employees; if she made it that far.

Well, here she was, ready to impress the heck out of the CEO, land her first job, and take a gigantic step on the road to achieving her dream.

Her dream. Not her parents. Not her ex-fiancé. Hers.

‘Mr Cartwright will see you now. Through that door.’

The receptionist pointed behind her left shoulder and Jade stood, smiled her thanks, feigning bravado she didn’t feel yet eager to take the first step towards rebuilding her life.

Pushing the heavy glass door, she walked into another waiting room facing an endless corridor. She stood for a few minutes, tapping her foot, the silence intimidating her more than she cared to admit. She hadn’t flown halfway round the world to be thwarted at this stage, no sir-ree. This job was hers, whatever it took.

As the minutes ticked by her impatience grew. Story of her life, really.

She’d been impatient for as long as she could remember: waiting for the fifty invited guests to arrive at her sixth birthday party at Luna Park, which her parents had hired for the event; waiting for her first pony, first piano, first trip to Disneyland all before the age of ten; waiting for her very own private theatre room with the latest high-tech gadgets by the time she’d hit early teens.

Later, waiting for her first Porsche, her first thoroughbred, and, recently, waiting for the man of her dreams to marry her only to discover he’d turned into her biggest nightmare.

Nah, waiting was for losers. Now she finally had a chance to make things right, to do things differently, to follow her own dreams. Screw waiting. Time to make things happen and that time was now.

Clamping her lips shut on a sigh of exasperation, she strode down the corridor, glancing into empty offices, her patience wearing thinner with every step.

‘Can I help you?’

She whirled around, her pulse racing. Being caught snooping in her prospective new work place wasn’t a good start. Hoping to bluff her way out of it, she fixed a smile and glanced up.

Rather than her pulse slowing, the sight of the guy in front of her only served to increase its pace.

HOT. H.O.T. flashed across her mind in huge capital letters like the Hollywood sign she’d visited briefly in LA as a kid, when her life had been easy and carefree and mapped out. Shame about the major detour.

He wasn’t classically handsome, the planes and angles of his face too angular for that: razor cheekbones, sharp jaw. Exuding barely restrained power, he looked as if he’d stepped off a billboard for executive hotties.

She had a fleeting impression of black hair, brilliant blue eyes, broad chest and navy suit before his face recaptured her attention.

Though she did have a hard time tearing her gaze away from that chest; he would’ve given Superman a run for his money. Did guys actually have sculpted chests like that? Until now she’d assumed they were a figment of some female comic designer’s imagination; some very imaginative, very creative comic designer’s imagination.

Those hyperactive mice took to bouncing in her belly again, exacerbating the strange, fluttery feeling she put down to pre-interview jitters. No way could her reaction be remotely hormonal to a guy who would have women falling at his designer-loafered feet with a wink of those baby blues. She knew better than that. Boy, did she know better.

However, the longer the superhero stared at her she knew her racing pulse and somersaulting stomach had little to do with the impending interview and more to do with sexual awareness.

For that was the first word that leapt to mind with this guy: sex. Hot, raunchy, no-holds-barred sex.

As he continued to stare at her with blatant curiosity she suddenly knew how Lois Lane must’ve felt, all tongue-tied and nervous anticipation at the possibility of being squashed up against a broad wall of muscle covered in a big S.

Surreptitiously swiping her clammy palms down the side of her skirt, she hoped the unexpected heat flooding her body wasn’t reflected in her cheeks.

‘I was just—’

‘Wandering the corridors, snooping around?’

That annoying heat hit her cheeks in an incriminating blush.

‘I wasn’t snooping. My name’s Jade Beacham, I had an interview scheduled twenty-five minutes ago and I was directed to wait in here.’

The babbling wasn’t good and, combined with her blush, made her look like a fool.

Something akin to amusement flashed in those too-blue-to-be-legal eyes.

‘I’m sure that meant having a seat back there while you wait.’

His tone implied she was a thief about to steal trade secrets as he pointed to a row of chairs, the action stretching his ivory silk shirt tight across his chest.

Oh, boy, that chest…

‘You’re right. Sorry. Patience has never been one of my virtues.’

Damn, where had that come from? Way to go with first impressions. Mentally cringing and slapping a hand across her mouth, she searched her brain for something sensible to say, coming up a frustrating blank as he continued to stare.

Confident a few deep breaths would refocus her concentration, she took a subtle breath, another, instantly hit by an intoxicating blend of designer cool, warm sunshine and long, decadent nights, the images his aftershave invoked as mind-boggling as the man himself.

Not good. She was here to nail this interview, not swoon over some suit. Besides, her swooning days over any guy were over, remember?

‘Here’s the deal. I’ve got a bit of time on my hands, you look like you need to be kept out of trouble. Would you like to know more about your boss?’

His proposition surprised her more than his knockout aftershave. Surely he couldn’t be serious? Talk about unprofessional. As for him implying she needed a babysitter, where did he get off?

Shaking her head, she sent him a haughty glare. ‘Not interested in gossip. I’m here for an interview, not for you to dish the dirt on your boss.’

He returned her stare, unblinkingly, uncomfortably intense. Damn, why couldn’t he be more like mild-mannered Clark Kent? He wouldn’t be staring at her as if he wanted to rip away her outer layers and delve into her soul.

His eyes bored into hers, an unfathomable expression in their depths as she tried not to squirm under the scrutiny, wishing she’d never started strolling around here. As if she weren’t nervous enough, she didn’t need some GQ model wannabe giving her grief.

After what seemed like an eternity, he waved towards the empty office.

‘Why don’t you wait in here?’

His deep voice, combined with the brooding stare, had a similar effect on her senses as his tangy aftershave. ‘Wow’ didn’t come close to describing this guy. And he wasn’t even wearing a cape!

Anxious for her interview to start, she checked the name on the brass plate on the door. RHYS CARTWRIGHT—CEO.

Okay, so hot guy was being helpful after all, though how ethical was it to wait for the boss in his office? Unless…a strange thought niggled as she gazed from the name plate to the guy. Could Superman be her boss? If so, why was he playing games?

Making a lightning-quick decision, she decided to play along and see what he was up to. She’d come this far; she hadn’t gone through the rigours of a screening interview and all the legalities of obtaining work visas and insurance to be turned back now by some nutter, no matter how cute.

She gestured at the name plate. ‘You sure this is okay, waiting in his office? Not too presumptuous?’

He smiled, softening the hard plains. ‘Relax, you’re in capable hands.’

Oh-oh. Not only did he have the Superman persona, he had the killer smile to match. Not fair.

She glanced at his hands, impressed by their strength. Suddenly, a startling image of those hands caressing her skin crossed her mind and she wondered if jet lag had finally caught up with her.

‘I’m sure you could handle anything, Mr…?’

Maybe flattery would get her somewhere? She’d try anything to stop him gobbling her up with his eyes.

In response, he closed the door with a resounding thud and she wished the lid on her fertile imagination could be closed as convincingly. Languid warmth stole through her body as she watched him cross the room. He didn’t walk, his long legs stalked. Funny, considering she’d imagined them encased in blue Lycra and flying rather than walking.

So much for shutting down her imagination; it was still working a treat.

‘As much as I’m enjoying our witty repartee, let’s get down to business. Where do you think we should start?’

You can start by unbuttoning my jacket, unzipping my skirt and getting downright dirty.

By the amused look on his face as he sat behind the desk she had a horrifying feeling she’d spoken aloud. It was just like one of those dreams where she walked naked into a roomful of men and they all stared at her. Yeah, this guy had the same look on his face, though rather than making her feel uncomfortable it turned her on.

While she wrestled with her hormones he just sat there and waited for her to speak, looking like God’s gift to women. He hadn’t answered her question about his identity, so she took his perverse game to the next level.

‘Tell me about your boss.’

There. She’d thrown down the gauntlet. No boss would tolerate a prospective employee trying to get a job by such underhanded tactics. Surely he would divulge his identity now and cut to the chase?

‘He can be a tyrant—demanding, cranky, uncompromising. He lives for his work and expects nothing less from his employees.’ He pronounced it like the company’s mission statement.

A test. This bizarre charade had to be some sort of test. If so, she would beat him at his own game and then some.

‘Sounds like a real charmer,’ she muttered. ‘By the way, what’s with the secrecy act? What’s your name?’

He leaned forward, creating an immediate intimacy. ‘Are names important?’

Her traitorous heart beat a staccato rhythm; she didn’t know where he was heading with all this and she really wanted to tell him to shove it, but she needed this job. Desperately. Didn’t mean she had to kowtow to him.

‘You’re very confident.’

‘It’s an integral part of my job,’ he said, his gaze twinkling with enjoyment at their sparring, at odds with the steepled fingers resting on his chest, as if he knew something she didn’t but held all the power.

She admired his boldness, the way he challenged her with his eyes even if she didn’t have a clue what he expected from her or why he was playing some warped game only he knew the rules of.

‘As is fraternising with staff.’

Fraternising? What the hell did that mean? If he thought she’d sleep with him to get this job, he could think again.

‘I doubt the boss would approve of his employees fraternising,’ she said, swallowing to ease her tight throat.

If this job weren’t so important she would’ve gladly told Superman what he could do with his fraternising.

‘What about with the boss himself?’

His stare trapped her and she knew exactly how the Penguin felt, though it only took her a second to realise she’d mixed up her analogies. Wasn’t that Batman? Personally, she’d always been a Superman type of girl and this guy wasn’t letting her forget it.

‘Jade, I asked you a question.’

He leaned forward and once again that muscular chest strained against the confines of his shirt, threatening to burst out all over the place. She stifled a sigh, thinking it had been ages since she’d seen any seam-ripping action. Like never.

‘A pointless question. I’m here to work, not fraternise. Besides, arrogant men can be tiresome and Mr Cartwright sounds like he’s right up there with the best of them. He’ll be my boss and I’ll respect him, but that’s about as far as it goes.’ There, perhaps her holier-than-thou speech might get a reaction out of him?

To her amazement he laughed, a rich, vibrant sound that sent appreciative thrills down her spine and all her good intentions to ignore him scuttling for cover.

‘I like a woman with strong opinions. You’re hired.’

‘Pardon?’

He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head, overconfident, overbearing, overwhelming.

‘You heard me. Welcome to the firm.’

Jade tried to ignore her heart’s erratic reaction as his cocky grin widened. Okay, Superman was her new boss. So what if he knocked the socks off her? She just had to remind her clothes not to follow suit.

Annoyed at her physical reaction, she sat straighter. She should be ecstatic she’d got the job, though a small part of her felt cheated. She’d expected a proper interview, a chance to impress with her enthusiasm, not some odd cat-and-mouse game.

‘You certainly have an interesting interview technique. Where did you pick it up? Bosses-R-Us?’

He ignored her barb, though his smirk said it all. ‘Call me Rhys. We’re fairly informal around here.’

His confident tone rankled as much as his smug expression.

‘Does that informality extend to harassing prospective employees?’

He frowned, sat forward and placed both hands on the desk, asserting his power.

‘What I put you through was a test. Unconventional, I know, even unfair, but I’m the boss and what I say goes.’

She shook her head, resisting the urge to stab a pen through his hand. ‘I’m not some crash-test dummy you can experiment with.’

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘No, I guess not.’

An awkward silence lingered before she blurted, ‘Look, I’m really keen to start. Do you want to ask me any questions? Check out my credentials?’

She could’ve bitten her tongue as his gaze briefly flicked over her, checking out credentials of a different kind.

For a brief moment she wanted to get the hell out of here, job or not. But she couldn’t. The memory of the last confrontation with her parents, the truth of Julian’s treachery, hadn’t waned. If anything, the truth about her family, her fiancé, motivated her to stick this out, whatever warped game her new boss was playing.

After another lengthy pause, he nodded, curt, dismissive, as he gestured to her résumé sitting on top of the desk.

‘You’ve ticked all the boxes—sense of adventure, love of nature, excellent customer service skills and an advanced certificate in first aid. Looks like you match our job description.’

Grateful play time was over, she nodded.

‘I wouldn’t have flown all this way if I didn’t feel I could be an asset to your company.’

‘You haven’t listed any formal training apart from a first aid certificate, though Callum was suitably impressed with you at the screening interview.’

He picked up her résumé from the top of his in-tray and flipped through it. ‘Impressed enough to get you this far, anyway.’

She blushed, incriminating heat creeping up her neck and into her face. How could she list any formal training if she didn’t have any? Pity attending theatre and nightclub opening nights, colour co-ordinating the latest haute couture and shopping for a living couldn’t be classed as essential job skills.

‘As you can see, one of my career objectives is to become a biologist. This job would be perfect, giving me on-the-job experience and further credits when I apply to enter university as a mature student.’

She sucked in a deep breath, silently praying he bought her spiel. While all of it was true—her dream to be a biologist, her need for on-the-job training, her intention to enrol at uni—all the enthusiasm in the world didn’t stack up too well against a lack of formal skills.

‘As far as qualifications go I believe life experience is more important than a piece of paper. I’ve always been a people person, and I’m confident I can handle leading tour groups competently.’

She didn’t add, If I can handle your weirdo interview I think anything Alaska tosses my way will be easy.

To her relief, he closed her résumé and tossed it on the desk.

‘Though the job sounds adventurous your main role is customer service. Is that going to be stimulating enough for you?’

The way he said ‘stimulating’ almost sounded X-rated. What was wrong with her? The sooner she got to Alaska, surrounded by all that ice, the better.

Suave Superman had undermined her confidence and lowered her defences quicker than she could rebuild them. And when the walls tumbled, her common sense usually got lost in a tidal wave of useless emotions, like trust and believing not every man was a lying, cheating hound.

Now her outrage at his strange interviewing techniques had fled, she needed to get out of here. For the longer he stared at her with those all-seeing, too-intense blue eyes, the more chance she’d fluff it and he’d realise exactly how ill-equipped and under-prepared she was to tackle a job of this magnitude.

‘I’m looking forward to everything about this job.’

The moment her life in Sydney had fallen apart, she’d made a decision.

She could’ve wallowed, gone berserk on retail therapy, maxing out Daddy’s Platinum in petty revenge. Instead, after a day’s private pity party holed up in her favourite day spa, she’d realised what she had to do.

Grow a spine. Cast off her rose-coloured glasses. And do what she should’ve done years earlier.

Follow her dream.

‘You’re aware we cater to a high-end market? Luxury tours all the way?’

She nodded, confident in that aspect of her job. She’d grown up in moneyed circles, had rubbed elbows with the world’s elite, so relating to them in this forum would be the least challenging aspect of her new job.

‘Callum gave me a full rundown on the company. I’m looking forward to the challenge.’

His silence was disconcerting, his gaze too inquiring, too sceptical, too potent.

Keeping her voice crisp and businesslike, she forced a smile. ‘Thanks for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.’

She stood and offered her hand. As his fingers curled around hers the shock of physical contact shot up her arm and zapped her in places she’d deliberately ignored since learning the truth about Julian.

‘Welcome to the team. I look forward to liaising with you.’

Nodding, she whirled around and strode across the office, anxious to reach the door. Her mind had conjured up all sorts of intimate ways she could liaise with her delectable new boss.

‘Drop by tomorrow. Cheri will have your travel arrangements and training schedule waiting. Good luck, Jade. Great meeting you.’

His words sounded genuine as he opened the door for her and she briefly wondered if she’d imagined the whole bizarre scenario.

‘Thanks. See you in six months.’

Great, she had the job. Not so great, her new boss had tied her up in knots and she thought he was hot, despite her personal vow to ignore men for…oh, the next millennium or so.

Luckily, Alaska and Vancouver were poles apart. She’d be traipsing around glaciers while he stayed behind his desk a thousand miles away. Perfect.

Nothing like a good dose of hypothermia to cool hyperactive hormones.




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.

Let him dish it out. She could take it.

Rhys chose that moment to bend and pick up his backpack, the faded denim clinging to his great butt, and her confidence evaporated as quickly as a glacier under the summer sun.

Professionally, she could handle anything.

Physically, her body was letting her down in a big way.

As he straightened and hoisted his pack onto his back she quickly snapped out of the butt-induced trance and gathered her bags. She had a large backpack and a small duffle bag, a far cry from the Gucci luggage her parents had given her for her six-month trip to Europe, a twenty-first birthday present six years ago. Thankfully, she’d stored it with the rest of her belongings back home, along with her bitter memories.

‘Need a hand?’

His smile kick-started her heart all over again when she’d just steadied it into some semblance of normality after those blistering stares.

‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

‘Suit yourself.’

She waited until he moved out of earshot before muttering, ‘Princess, my butt.’

His mini-stumble would’ve gone unobserved but for the quick grin he threw over his shoulder before he strode towards the plane without a backward glance while she lagged behind, lugging her bags, torn between ogling his tempting butt and wanting to plant her foot firmly in the middle of it.

‘Don’t straggle.’ She heard the amusement in his taunt, the assured confidence he’d won this round.

No competition. Giving him a swift kick in the butt won hands down if she was silly enough to get that close.




Chapter Four


JADE had sipped Cosmopolitans at New York’s trendiest bars, she’d savoured margaritas at exclusive Mexican Riviera resorts, she’d sculled flavoured vodkas in London’s finest clubs, but nothing came close to the atmosphere of this chic, cosy bar tucked away off Skagway’s main street.

A steel-and-glass enclosed fireplace radiated a welcoming heat in one corner, trendy chrome tables and chairs circled the room and a stainless-steel bar ran from the entrance to the back.

Soft jazz filtered through high-tech speakers, muted music clips flashed across a wide, flat screen suspended over the bar and the exotic cocktails distributed to patrons had her wondering if she’d stepped into a time machine and been whizzed back to Sydney.

But one glance behind the bar dispelled that illusion.

Some incredibly talented architect had captured the real beauty of Skagway and brought it directly into the bar with a monstrous clear glass pane that ran the entire length of the bar, allowing patrons to enjoy the towering snow-capped mountains as a background to their upmarket drinks.

She’d never seen anything like it and the view of all that rugged splendour had her itching to start her job.

As if reading her mind, Rhys raised his boutique beer in her direction before taking a long slug, looking just as comfortable here as he had in his slick designer suit in Vancouver.

He unnerved her but here she sat, playing at being the model employee, when every passing second made her more aware of him as a man rather than just a boss.

When he’d first suggested they have a drink for some company bonding, she’d been hesitant. But she couldn’t beg off when Jack and Cody had been gung-ho so she’d tagged along, more than a little alarmed when the guys had ditched them after one beer in favour of one of the rowdier pubs they’d passed.

She’d been tempted to bolt too until she’d seen the gleam of challenge in Rhys’s too-blue eyes. He’d expected her to do a runner too so she did the exact opposite, plonking her butt on a chair, ordering a soda and steeling her nerve for some meaningless small talk before she could make her escape.

‘What do you think so far?’

Taking a sip of soda to ease the dryness in her throat the longer he stared at her, unwavering, as if he really valued her answer, she carefully replaced the glass on the table, annoyed when her hand trembled slightly. ‘It’s great. I can’t believe I’m actually in Alaska.’

He chuckled, the laugh lines crinkling adorably around his eyes. ‘You’ve only seen the airport and the main street so far. Are you really that impressed?’

She recalled the deep fjords they’d flown over and her first glimpse of the quaint Alaskan town that looked as if it hadn’t changed in a hundred years.

‘I love what I’ve seen. Can’t wait to explore.’

He leaned across the table, creating an intimacy she found intoxicating yet terrifying.

‘Lucky you’ve got such an experienced guide.’

‘You really that good?’

His mouth quirked in a cocky smile that had her heart tripping and her head wishing she’d ordered something stronger than a soda.

‘I’m better than good. I’m the best.’

She tried to ignore her pounding pulse, to focus on his lips as he spoke. Unfortunately, looking at his lips didn’t help her concentration.

‘That’s a big call, Ranger. Sure you can live up to it?’

‘You’ll just have to try me and find out. You strike me as a girl looking for adventure and I think I’ve got just the thing for you.’

His eyes glimmered in the low light from a flickering votive candle in the middle of the table, conveying an enthralling danger that thrilled yet scared her.

Consuming heat swept through her body, burning everything in its path, including her common sense. She’d had a close call with a rat fiancé, had had her trust in the parents she loved shattered, yet here she was hanging on this guy’s every flirtatious word. And not just any guy, he was her boss. Even if her common sense had gone AWOL she knew boss should equal hands off. Should being the operative word.

‘And what would that be?’

‘Six months in the most spectacular, unspoilt wilderness you’ll ever see with an expert park naturalist as your personal guide. What more could a girl ask for?’

Oh, she could think of plenty of things, but wisely kept her wayward thoughts to herself.

‘Tell me more.’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Whether you fend off wild animals in your spare time?’

He laughed as she battled the instant image of Ranger Rhys shirtless, his torso glistening with sweat, muscles rippling as he wrestled a moose with his bare hands.

Perspiration peppered her brow at the thought as she surreptitiously dabbed it and gestured towards the fireplace. Yeah, as if that was making her hot.

‘I enjoy the wilderness, if that’s what you’re asking.’

She wanted to ask more than that: such as how long he’d been here, how many tours he’d led, how many women he’d dazzled with those come-get-me eyes and wicked smile.

‘Interesting. After seeing you at the office I figured you to be the businessman type. Relishing the head-honcho role, running the company from behind the comfort of your desk.’

His smile faded, shadows clouding those brilliant blue eyes to muted midnight.

‘Yeah, guess I’m the typical suit now, though I don’t see it as a bad thing.’

She noted the tensed shoulders, the sudden clenching of his fingers around the glass he held, and wondered who he was trying to convince.

‘Grappling with figures can be just as rewarding as shooting the rapids. I haven’t been out in the wild for two years and I don’t miss it.’

His voice, devoid of all emotion, was a telltale sign in itself. His spiel sounded rehearsed, one he’d recited often by the sounds of it.

‘You’re kidding? Number crunching versus thrills and spills? If you’re a park naturalist you must love the wilderness. Why haven’t you been out in all that time?’

She could’ve bitten her tongue as his expression closed tight. He was her boss and she barely knew him. What on earth made her blurt out a question like that?

His body language screamed defensiveness, which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. She knew better than this. She’d attended balls at international embassies all around the world, was usually the epitome of tact and diplomacy. Now, her social skills had deserted her, along with her self-confidence in reading people.

An awkward silence stretched as he stared into the bottom of his glass, his lips compressed and, though she should shut up, an unseen, previously undiscovered demon urged her to give it a last shot.

‘Look, we’re going to be colleagues for the next six months. Don’t you think we should know a bit about each other, beyond the everyday niceties?’

His gaze lifted, the bleakness slamming into her, quickly replaced by the ferocity of one of the famed black bears she’d read so much about. So much for the meet-and-greet stage of their working relationship.

‘If you’re so keen on sharing secrets, why don’t you tell me why you ran away from Australia and flew all the way out here, huh? And don’t give me that bull about wanting to be a biologist because I don’t buy it.’

Jade took a steadying breath. She’d started this, she’d have to finish it whether she liked it or not.

‘I didn’t run away. I needed a new start.’

Understatement of the year.

His stare bored through her as if he could read her mind. ‘New start? Must involve a guy.’

‘Why would you say that?’

She aimed for nonchalance, knowing it must look as if she’d swallowed a salmon whole.

‘You’re an intelligent, beautiful woman. Bet you had the guys lined up back in Sydney.’

A slow warmth suffused her cheeks at his compliment, the inner glow Julian had extinguished reigniting with the simple admiration from this man.

‘Just one guy. He cheated on me.’

He winced. ‘Sorry. What a jerk.’

She sighed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She could tolerate probing questions; she couldn’t stand his pity.

‘All in the past now. Good incentive to focus on the future. No one to stand in my way now.’

‘I admire your resolve.’ He gestured to the barman, indicating another round. ‘Same for you or would you like something stronger?’

‘Soda’s fine.’

So much for finding out more about him; once she’d flapped her loose lips, part of her pathetic life story had flowed out and the ship had well and truly sunk.

‘I’ve told you my sorry tale—what’s yours?’

He avoided her eyes, focusing on the table, the silence stretching like a taut highwire ready to snap.

‘Come on, it can’t be that bad,’ she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

After the waiter cleared the glasses and replaced their drinks, Rhys looked up and her heart twisted at the despondency in his eyes.

‘One of my tour guides died on my last tour.’

He shook his head, hopelessness evident in the dejected slump of his broad shoulders.

‘You okay?’

She laid a tentative hand on his forearm, wishing she could think of the right thing to say and coming up with nada.

He threw off her hand, sat back so abruptly his chair scraped across the floorboards.

‘You asked for my story, you got it. Ready to go?’

What could she say? No, she wasn’t ready, because she wanted to know more about the tragic death that turned a carefree charmer into a bristling bore in an instant? No, that she wanted to apologise for pushing him when she barely knew him?

Swallowing her regrets, she nodded and followed him out of the door.

So much for shared confidences resulting in a better working relationship. The way he’d just glared at her, the glaciers wouldn’t be the only things frozen over the next six months.

Nice going. Great ice-breaker technique.

Shaking her head in disgust, she wondered how to make up for her gaff.




Chapter Five


AS THEY stepped out into the crisp night air, Jade took a few head-clearing breaths before falling into step beside Rhys, almost having to run to keep up with his long, angry strides.

Why the heck had she hounded him? She’d wanted to foster a good working relationship, not alienate him completely on her first day!

With his head bent, hands thrust into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched against the howling wind, she had some serious work to do to resume the tentative working relationship she’d established earlier in the night.

‘Hey.’

He glanced at her, his expression hidden in shadows. ‘Leave it alone, Jade.’

She could leave it alone. She should leave it alone. But where would that leave them tomorrow? And the next day? And for the next six months when she tried to nail this job?

‘Let’s head back to the hotel.’ He instantly picked up the pace, leaving her no option but to pull up the collar of her Gore-Tex parka and do the same rather than trail behind like a trained husky.

‘Slow down.’

She doubted he heard, with the wind whipping her words away as soon as they left her mouth, and he continued stalking, huge strides that had her practically jogging along next to him.

Okay, so she’d pried into his personal business, opened an old wound that explained why he’d been stuck behind a desk the last two years, but if she didn’t clear the air the next few months could be tough.

‘Hold up.’

She reached out, tugged at his jacket, startled when he stopped abruptly and she slammed into his back.

‘Ouch!’

She rebounded and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her, imprisoning her in a vice grip.

‘What now?’

She could barely see in the dim street lighting, but heard the exasperation in his voice.

‘We need to talk about this.’

‘No, we don’t.’

He hadn’t eased up with the Tarzan grip and her concern quickly morphed into something else, something a lot like a woman all too aware of six feet plus of hot, sexy male within touching distance.

‘You’re ticked off. Not a good start to our working relationship. I don’t want to leave things like that.’

She bit down on her tongue, realising she was babbling and wishing she could tuck her Gore-Tex between her legs and hightail it back to the hotel like a good little employee, leaving her Pinocchio nose out of his business.

‘Like what?’

‘Tense. Awkward.’

She shrugged, feeling more foolish by the minute, a feeling that only increased as she focused on the patch of smooth bronze skin at the base of his throat where his parka zip didn’t go all the way up.

The colour of his skin matched her favourite crème caramel dessert, oh, so tempting A bizarre urge to lick it popped into her mind as an inane craving to taste him urged her to close the short gap between them and…Just one little lick, surely that wouldn’t be harmful? Yeah, just as the calories never went straight to her hips when she ate the real thing.

Lost in a fanciful haze, she missed the moment he loosened his grip and started running his hands over her upper arms, and though she wore a woollen jumper under the parka her skin tingled.

‘Doesn’t seem too tense now.’

She stared at his lips, transfixed. The last thing she needed was a kiss from her boss. What she wanted, now that was a different matter entirely.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she tilted her head up, eager to feel that first liberating explosion of sensation when lips fused.

No kiss was as electrifyingly exciting as a first kiss and she had a feeling Rhys would know all the right moves. He had the attitude, the confidence, the lips that just begged to be kissed and she’d forgotten every sane reason why she shouldn’t.

She waited, every second an exquisite lesson in torturous anticipation, every second taunting her with a million logical arguments why she should pull away now and make a run for it.

‘Damn it!’ He muttered a string of soft curses under his breath as he released her, the air between them suddenly frigid as her eyes flew open to be confronted by a broad expanse of back.

He’d been a sigh away from their lips touching and he’d had the willpower to stop the kiss. Willpower she should’ve had.

Mortified, she didn’t know whether to laugh it off or pretend it hadn’t happened. Yeah, as if that were an option.

She knew it was for the best he hadn’t kissed her their first night in Alaska; mixing business with pleasure was crazy, especially when she’d have to spend the next six months with him. Then why did she want to blubber like a jilted wallflower on prom night?

‘Well, I guess we’re back to tense again.’

Her false laugh grated, but they had to get past this, had to forge some kind of working relationship. No way was she heading back to Australia without some decent work experience on her CV to help facilitate her entry into university.

He turned, his gaze raking over her yet giving away little as he ruffled the dark hair curling slightly over his collar.

‘Won’t be tense if we forget that ever happened.’

His calm voice and confident stance were at complete odds with her tumbling belly and quivering resolve. She should’ve admired him for it; instead, his cool nonchalance aggravated her beyond belief.

Of course they should forget it. But ignoring the four-hundred-pound bear in the corner of the igloo wouldn’t make it go away, and no way could she survive the next six months with this tension humming between them.

‘So we’re supposed to forget the fact you almost kissed me?’

His lips curved into the kind of smile that made forgetting the urge to kiss him impossible.

‘Maybe you almost kissed me?’

‘No way! You were holding me, you leaned towards me, you—’

‘I get the picture.’

He shook his head, but his smile merely widened. ‘Must’ve lost my head for a moment. Forgive me?’

With that cheeky smile and naughty gleam in those incredible blue eyes, how could she refuse?

Besides, nothing to forgive. She’d wanted that kiss so badly she’d practically invited it: leaning into him, tilting her head, closing her eyes…

She inwardly cringed, outwardly fixing the serene expression she’d used to great effect at many a boring function.

‘Forgotten.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Just like that.’

‘Good.’

She should’ve been relieved they’d brushed over it so easily, should’ve been grateful they could laugh at it thanks to his handling of the situation.

But there was nothing remotely like relief or gratitude simmering between them as they stood there, gazes locked, the frosty air steaming from the short breaths they exhaled, the tension buzzing between them as potent as ever.

She had to escape before she did something foolish—again.

‘I’m heading back to the hotel. See you in the morning.’

He nodded. ‘I won’t be far behind you. ‘Night.’

As she picked her way along the pavement, more carefully this time, she felt his stare burning into her back and it took every ounce of her meagre willpower not to look back.



Rhys kept Jade in his sight as he followed her.

He’d acted like a jerk at the end of their drinks session in the bar, an even bigger jerk for almost kissing her as a distraction technique.

She’d got too damn close in the bar, her doe-eyed stare all soft and encouraging, and he’d nearly blurted out the truth of why being back here stung.

It had been a close call and he couldn’t afford to let the princess playing pauper creep under his guard.

At least he’d learned her reason for being here. It had less to do with her urge to study biology and more to do with some idiot who’d cheated on her.

She was running away from her old life, dabbling for a while, before she’d head back to her gowns and baubles.

It should annoy him, the fact she was using a job most people would give their eye teeth for as an escape, but he understood. Boy, did he understand the driving need to run when the going got tough.

As for that kiss…His initial plan to shock her into forgetting the awkwardness following his blurted admission had vanished the moment he’d touched her.

It had been an impulse, something guaranteed to shock her. Ironic, he’d been the one shocked with how close he’d come to losing control when she’d stared at him with those big brown eyes, her sensual mouth an inch away…

For that split second between going through with a callous kiss that meant nothing, a calculated kiss meant to distract, and sensibly pulling back, he’d ached to hold her, to touch her, to bury his face in her sleek chocolate-brown hair.

Thankfully, he hadn’t gone through with it and she’d handled his idiocy with aplomb, demonstrating what he already knew. Jade Beacham had class and then some.

He’d moved in the same social circles many moons ago, had met girls like her as a teenager. Pampered, pretty princesses with high expectations and endless credit via Daddy’s gold card. If it sounded like a princess and acted like a princess, it expected to be treated like one.

He’d escaped early enough to never get involved with one and had determinedly avoided that type of woman since. Playing lackey to a high-maintenance woman just wasn’t his style.

Uh-uh, when he’d finally opened his heart to a woman, it had been someone the absolute antithesis of a pampered princess.

And look what had happened as a result.

Cursing soundly, he headed towards the hotel. This wasn’t the time for another lapse in judgement. It was hard enough just being back in this town.

With Jade’s curvy image imprinted on his brain, and the answering spark he’d glimpsed in her beautiful brown eyes, he had a feeling things were about to get a lot harder.




Chapter Six


JADE rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom as the pale dawn light filtered through the curtains. She glanced in the mirror, not surprised to see dark rings under her eyes. After a sleepless night, what did she expect?

Stepping under the shower, she tilted her head back, allowing the warm water to sluice over her face. She shampooed her hair, soaped her body and shaved her legs, focusing on the mundane tasks in a futile attempt to block out the memory of last night—and the cringe-worthy fact she’d almost kissed her boss.

She’d lain awake half the night replaying every tension-fraught moment since she’d met Rhys Cartwright. After that bizarre interview and her original initiation into the company, she should’ve known things would go downhill.

Though for a brief moment in the bar last night, she’d felt a connection, a genuine sharing of information that led to bonding.

Before she’d botched it all big time and made a mess of everything.

She’d lied to him. She’d told him the kiss was forgotten when in reality it was all she could think about. She couldn’t forget the feel of his strong hands stroking her arms, his intoxicating outdoorsy-woody smell, those blue eyes heavy with passion, the sight of his lips descending towards hers…

With one last icy blast she turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower. The rush of cold air raised goose bumps over her damp skin; or was her physiological reaction a result of imagining Rhys’s kiss?

Her hands shook as she dried off, the nerves she’d managed to subdue in the shower taking flight again. How on earth was she going to face him today?

No matter how efficiently they’d brushed it off last night, pretended it never happened, she’d have to show up to her first day on the job all perky and bouncy and enthusiastic when inside she’d be a quivering mess.

Shrugging into her robe, her gaze landed on her toiletry bag propped on the bathroom counter.

There lay her answer.

Whenever she’d had to attend a big event in the past, whether afternoon tea with royalty or polo with a prince, she’d ensure she looked her best. Perfect make-up, styled hair, killer outfit. Looking good gave her confidence and if ever there was a time she needed a boost, this was it.

She donned stretch black pants, a sapphire jumper and the latest design in hiking boots, then concentrated on the onerous task of applying make-up. Keeping the colours neutral, she applied a light foundation and translucent powder, outlined her eyes with blue kohl, smudged a bronzed eyeshadow over her lids, whisked the mascara wand over her eyelashes and finished off with a smidgeon of pale pink lip gloss.

Not bad. The make-up provided an excellent confidence mask, though it was difficult to disguise the doubt in her eyes. Her windows to the soul definitely needed some new blinds.

She snacked on a bagel to quell her rolling tummy as she quickly repacked and ten minutes later joined the guys down at the wharf awaiting their JetCat transport. After handing over her backpack to the transport staff, she took a deep breath and headed down the wooden planks.

A long, low wolf whistle heralded her arrival. ‘Look at you.’ Jack gave her a thumbs up, his grin appreciative.





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