Read A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) Online
Authors: Elizabeth Lane
“Oh, it’s you.” With a bitter chuckle, he swiveled the chair toward her. “How did things go with Quinn today?”
“Fine. We had a good time. But what are you doing here?”
Buck shook his head. “Sit down, Terri. I hope you’re in a patient mood because I need a good listener.”
“What is it?” Terri took the chair on the near side of Buck’s desk. “Did everything go all right with the sheikhs?”
“Like clockwork.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Evie was there to pick them up on time, smooth flight and park tour, first-rate lunch…” His voice trailed off. “Terri, would you ever call me naive?”
She met his troubled gaze. “Why?” she asked. “What happened?”
“This would make a funny story if it wasn’t so frustrating. Everything went swimmingly with the sheikhs. By the time we’d finished the tour and come back to the hotel, I was congratulating myself on money and effort well spent. Then it came time for me to see them to their rooms for a rest before the barbecue…” He gave a bitter chuckle. “I realized they were looking at me, as if expecting more. Finally the tallest one, who did most of the talking, took me aside and asked me—” Buck broke off, shaking his head.
“What?”
“He asked me, ‘Where are the girls?’”
Terri’s jaw dropped as the implication sank home. “Oh, Buck!”
“I should’ve expected this,” he said. “I should have realized what they’d expect and made it clear before they even came that none of that would be happening here. I wear a lot of hats in this business, but the one thing I’m not, and won’t ever be, is a damned pimp.”
“So what did you tell them?”
“What could I tell them? I said that girls weren’t part of the package. They were polite enough, even when I turned down the extra money they offered me, but I could tell they weren’t happy about it. And something tells me they won’t be offering to back my new resort.”
“I’m so sorry.” Terri knew how much planning and effort had gone into this venture. Buck’s disappointment was evident in his tired voice and every line of his face. Terri checked the urge to move behind his chair and rub his shoulders. Two days ago she might have done it. But not now.
“What about the river trip?” she asked. “Is it still on for tomorrow?”
“Yes, they still want to go. Which reminds me, Terri, we’ve got a couple of the staff out sick. The equipment truck’s loaded and ready to go, but I’ll need you to drive it down to Lee’s Ferry and bring it back here once the gear’s unloaded.
Terri stifled a groan. She knew what that meant. She’d be leaving at 4:00 a.m. with the two camp boys, to be at the landing with the big trailer truck, which held the two uninflated rafts, the air pump, the food and cooking supplies, the tents, the portable latrine and the other gear. By the time the clients arrived by helicopter at eight thirty the rafts would be inflated, loaded and ready to go—one for the clients and the other for the gear. After that, she’d make the two-hour solo drive back to the resort.
“Sorry to dump this on you at the last minute,” Buck said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’d drive the truck myself, but I’ll be helicoptering in with the sheikhs. I’ve decided to guide the river trip myself. Maybe I can still salvage the situation.”
Terri counted the hours the round-trip in the truck would take out of her day. Not good timing. She had a lot to do tomorrow, and she’d wanted to spend more time with Quinn—even more so now that Buck had said he’d be going on the trip with the sheikhs. With her father gone, the girl would be lonesome. “Isn’t there anybody else who can haul the gear down?” she asked. “Bob, maybe?”
“He’s not licensed to drive that big truck. If he has a problem, the insurance company won’t pay.”
“Fine.” Terri sighed and shrugged. “I’ve done it before. No reason I can’t do it again.”
“Thanks. And just one more thing, Terri.”
Her pulse quickened. Maybe this was the moment. Maybe he was going to ask her to stay—and not just for the job, but for
him.
“I know you’ve given your two weeks’ notice,” he said. “But I’m hoping I can talk you into staying through the gala. It’s only another week or so—and it’ll be a mess without you. I’ll pay you a bonus, of course. Name your price.”
She should have known better. Feeling as if she’d just been slapped with a frozen fish, Terri rose from her chair. “I’ll let you know after you’re back from the river run. But you’ll have to make it worth my time.” She walked to the door, then turned. “If you don’t mind a suggestion, why don’t you go home and spend some quality time with your daughter before tomorrow?”
“Good idea, but I need to check the supplies for the trip and make sure everything’s on the truck. By then it’ll be time for the barbecue with the sheikhs. You’re welcome to come if you like.”
“Not on your life. They’re all yours.”
“See you tomorrow, then.” Rising, he moved to the outside door of his office and opened it. “Thanks again for agreeing to drive the truck. I appreciate your help.”
“It’s my job.” Her voice dripped icicles, but Buck didn’t seem to notice.
He left and closed the door. Terri double-checked to make sure both doors to his office were locked, then returned to her own office and switched on her computer. The sooner she got today’s work done, the sooner she could go home and rest up for an early start tomorrow. She wasn’t happy about driving the truck, and even less happy about the way he’d taken her for granted yet again. She should have walked out on the spot and left him with his movie-star mouth hanging open.
Buck didn’t care about her as a woman. He never had and he never would. She’d consider staying through the gala as he’d asked because she knew how much it meant to the business and she didn’t want to let anyone down, but once that was over, she’d leave this place—and that man—behind for good.
* * *
The heavy trailer truck rumbled over the narrow road, swaying dangerously every time a wheel sank into a pothole. Half-blinded by the sunrise above the red-rock mesas, Terri ground the gears and wrestled with the wheel. Years ago, at Buck’s suggestion, she’d learned the skills, and acquired the paperwork, to fill in for almost any job in the company. Not only could she drive the truck, she was licensed as a skydive instructor, bungee-jumping instructor and boat pilot. She was also a fair mechanic and certified in first aid and lifesaving. When Buck referred to her as his right-hand woman he wasn’t just throwing out words. Anything he could do, she could do almost as well, if not better. It was a situation that backfired on her often when, like today, she was the only person on hand qualified to do an unpleasant task.
Next to her on the single bench seat, the two camp boys were catching some extra sleep. Still in their early twenties, they were both seasoned river runners. It would be their job to motor ahead in the loaded supply raft, set up camp and have everything ready when the clients arrived at the end of the day’s run. At Phantom Ranch, where the adventure would end, they would put a tow on the client raft and continue all the way to Lake Mead, where both rafts would be hauled out of the water, unloaded, deflated and trucked home.
Eli Rasmussen, a local boy with freckles and red hair, was snoring, his mouth open, his head drooping to one side. George Redfeather, Evie’s nephew, handsome and polite, had fallen into a quiet doze. Glancing at them, Terri smiled. Both young men were good-humored and likable. Eli could sing and play the guitar, and George was a master Native American storyteller. They’d been Buck’s first choice for this trip, and she knew they would give it their all. For their sakes, Terri could only hope the four sheikhs would be generous tippers.
Up ahead, she could make out the low prefab buildings that marked Lee’s Ferry, the launching point for boats running down Marble Canyon, into the Colorado River and through the Grand Canyon. She checked her watch. Time to wake the boys. With her help, they’d have a little over an hour to get everything ready before the helicopter was due.
One vital member of the team would be meeting them here. Arnie Bowles, an expert river pilot, lived in Page, the big town near the Glen Canyon Dam. He’d be dropped off by his wife, Peggy. Terri glanced around for him as she pulled the truck into the parking lot. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Maybe Arnie had car trouble.” Eli had jumped out of the cab and was opening the back of the trailer.
“Maybe so. He usually gets here early.” Terri began moving the food coolers out of the way while George hauled the first of two outboard motors down to the water’s edge. They worked swiftly and efficiently, each one knowing exactly what needed to be done.
Half an hour later, Arnie had yet to arrive. Terri was getting concerned. He had her cell number, as did the office, but no one had called her. Maybe Buck had heard something.
At eight thirty, they heard the whirr of the approaching helicopter. Minutes later, the machine touched down, sending up clouds of red dust before the rotors slowed. Buck jumped to the ground. The four sheikhs, swarthy, handsome men dressed in rain gear for the river, climbed out behind him.
Spotting Terri, Buck beckoned her close. “There’s been a change of plans,” he said. “Arnie can’t make it. We’ll need you to take his place.”
Terri’s eyes went wide. “But—”
“Listen to me.” His gaze drilled into her. “If you can’t do the job, we’ll have to cancel the whole trip.”
“You can’t reschedule for tomorrow?”
“No time. They’re due for meetings in Vegas right after the trip.” He leaned close to her. “Listen, Terri, they’re already disappointed about the girls. The only way to salvage this is to give them a good river run.”
“But what about the office? What about Quinn—and my grandmother?”
“It’s only for three days. We can cover that. I’ll make some calls.”
Before Terri could protest again, he turned back to the four men. “We’re good,” he said. “Give us a few minutes, and we’ll push off.”
Terri knew better than to argue. Once Buck made up his mind there was no stopping him.
She had just a few more weeks to put up with his high-handed insensitivity. After that, Buck Morgan, the ten years she’d been at his side and that one hot encounter in his bed would be history.
Thankfully, Arnie’s rain gear, needed for protection against the chilling spray of the river, had been stowed in the client boat. While Buck made his calls, she decided to get the waterproof pants and jacket, and slip the set over her clothes. But first, knowing what could happen to possessions on the river, she gave her purse to the helicopter pilot, a man she trusted, and asked him to leave it at the hotel desk for her.
To get to the waiting rafts, she had to walk between the truck and the clients, who were standing in a close group. As she passed the tallest of the four men, she felt an unexpected press on the seat of her khakis.
Terri stifled a gasp. There could be no mistaking that touch. That arrogant, billionaire jerk had just patted her on the rump.
CHAPTER FIVE
T
he river was swollen with spring runoff, its water chocolate brown with silt. Calm, rippling stretches alternated with wild rapids that raced and tumbled, spraying the air with mist.
Terri knew the river like the back of her hand. She used the outboard motor to steer the raft into the spots that would make for an exhilarating but safe run, letting the rapids carry it downstream. The four sheikhs whooped and cheered as the flat-bottomed rubber raft bounced and slithered over the roiling water, roaring with laughter as the cold, muddy spray drenched them from head to toe.
Buck had introduced them by name—Abdul, Omar, Hassan and one more she’d already forgotten. Matching those names with faces was more than her busy mind could handle, especially when she was running on a mix of aggravation and insufficient sleep. To keep them straight in her head, she’d renamed them Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Moe—in order of their height.
Eeny was the one to watch.
Scanning the river ahead, she steered right to avoid a jutting rock. This was the easy part of her job. She could simply pilot the raft, ignored by the clients as they enjoyed the ride, and by Buck who sat in front, pointing out interesting sights and lecturing on the geologic history of the canyon. For now she could relax. But that pat on her rear had put her on high alert. Once they reached camp she would have to watch her back. She mustn’t let herself be caught alone or give any hint that she might be available. Having to slap a client’s face would be bad for Buck’s business.
They’d be camping in the canyon three nights, then riding mules up the long, steep trail to the South Rim. She could handle the physical rigors of the journey, but between the discomfort of being the only woman and her worry about the duties she’d left behind, Terri was already anxious for the trip to end.
Buck hadn’t even given her a chance to back out. As always he’d ignored her needs and taken for granted that she’d do what he wanted.
All the more reason to quit and move on.
* * *
Buck’s eyes swept the sheer sandstone cliffs that rose on both sides of the river. Then his gaze shifted to the rear of the raft, where Terri sat with one hand on the tiller. Even in the oversize rain gear she wore, she looked every inch a woman. He’d seen the way the four men looked at her, especially Abdul, and he didn’t like it. In their culture, an unveiled female, especially a pretty one, might easily be seen as fair game, especially since they were already paying for her services as river pilot.
He could hardly put her in a burka. But once they got to camp he would need to keep her in sight and make it clear to the men that female employees were off-limits.
Off-limits.
This trip was supposed to make Terri fall in love with the area again and choose to stay. The last thing he wanted was for her to get so fed up with ogling clients that she’d be even more determined to leave.
Besides, Abdul had no right to think of Terri as someone he was entitled to due to his money and position. Terri deserved more respect than that—and she knew it. They’d had plenty of rich men and celebrities in and out of the resort through the years, and Terri had never been dazzled or overawed by anyone. She wasn’t the type to fall into a stranger’s bed just because she was flattered by his attention or impressed by his wealth.
His thoughts spiraled back to that interlude in his bedroom, with Terri leaning above him, eyes closed, moist lips parted, hair hanging down to brush his face as she moved above him, pushing him deep, and deeper, into the honey of her sweet body… Instead of falling into bed with a stranger, she’d fallen into bed with him, and it had been
phenomenal
.
The raft pitched and dived, jarring him back to the present. As they plowed into another stretch of rapids, Buck grabbed the seat to keep from being flung into the water. Best keep his mind on what was happening, he scolded himself. But even then, his gaze was drawn to Terri. With her hood flung back, her wet hair streaming, her eyes bright with excitement, she was so wildly beautiful that she took his breath away.
The realization hit him like a gut punch. He’d had her once and vowed it wouldn’t happen again. But right or wrong, he wanted her back—in his arms, in his bed.
Heaven help him, was he falling for his right-hand woman?
* * *
With the canyon shadows deepening, the raft crunched onto the broad sand strip below the camp. George was waiting to catch the tether line Buck tossed him and help pull the raft partway out of the water. Terri waited in the stern while the four men climbed out onto dry land—Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Moe. By now she couldn’t have remembered their real names for ten thousand dollars. Her body ached from holding herself steady against the pounding current of the river. Her face, hair and rain clothes dripped with muddy water.
The sight of the glowing fire on the high, grassy bank and the aroma of grilling prime rib eye steaks reminded her that she was also hungry. The way the four sheikhs dragged their feet climbing up to the camp gave her hope that they were worn out, too.
Buck had waited for her by the raft. He gave her his hand as she climbed over the inflated bow and jumped to the ground. “Good work, Terri. Thanks for coming along.”
“You didn’t exactly give me a choice.” She was too tired to be gracious.
“Is everything all right? You sound a little ragged around the edges.”
“Just unsettled, that’s all, and worried about all the things we had to leave hanging. I don’t trust Bob’s ability to run the office while we’re both away. Quinn wanted me to come by. And I didn’t even get a chance to check on my grandmother.”
“I did ask Bob to call Canyon Shadows and let them know you’d be away.”
“Does Quinn know where we are?”
“She was asleep when I got home last night and still asleep when I left this morning. But I spoke with Mrs. Calloway. They’ll be fine.”
But Quinn won’t be happy. You should have at least talked to her.
The words hovered on the tip of Terri’s tongue, but she bit them back. There was nothing to be done now. They couldn’t make phone calls from here. The rafts could communicate with each other by two-way radio. But there was no cell phone service in the canyon. Until they made it up to the South Rim, they’d have better luck calling from the moon.
Supper was eaten around the fire, sitting on camp stools and eating off sturdy paper plates. Eli and George were superb camp cooks—the prime steaks, hot buttered biscuits and roasted corn were all delicious. The three sheikhs Terri had dubbed Meeny, Miney and Moe were polite and pleasant. But Eeny—Abdul, the jerk who’d patted her rump—was already complaining.
“My grandfather lived better than this with his camel herd in the desert. Sleeping on the hard ground in a tent the size of a tabletop, no showers to wash off the mud, no laundry service—and everybody sharing that unspeakable latrine. We at least expected some kind of lodge, with beds and bathrooms.”
“This canyon is one of the natural wonders of the world.” Buck gazed across the fire, his voice weary but patient as he gave his stock answer. “There are rules we follow to preserve it. The most important rule is that when we leave here, nothing can be left behind. Whatever we bring in has to be brought out—the equipment, the trash, down to the last soda tab. And nothing goes in the river. Even pissing on the bank will get you slapped with a citation.” He glanced around the circle of faces. “When you climb off that mule on your fourth day you’ll be as tired, sore and filthy as you’ve ever been in your life. But you’ll remember this adventure forever.” Like a lawyer resting his case, he rose and walked away from the fire, back toward the tents.
Terri’s pulse skittered as the realization struck her. There were six small dome tents in the camp—one for each of the clients, one to be shared by Eli and George, and another that had been packed for Buck and Arnie. But since Arnie wasn’t here, she’d be sharing that one with Buck.
There was nothing to be concerned about, she told herself. They were both exhausted and would probably drop off as soon as they crawled into their sleeping bags. And judging from the glances Abdul was giving her, sharing a tent with Buck would be safer than sleeping alone. The less fuss she made over the situation the better.
Eli had picked up his guitar and was strumming the opening chords of an old Hank Williams song. He had a Hank Williams voice to go with it, and this canyon, with the river whispering and the fire glowing, was the perfect setting for the old-time music. Now, while the men were listening, would be a good time to visit the latrine, Terri thought. Screened by a canvas tarp on poles, the portable device had been set up at the end of a winding path through the willows.
She had finished and was making her way back along the trail, guided by the glow of the campfire beyond the willows, when a dark shape blocked her path.
“Ah, here you are, beautiful one.”
Terri’s heart sank as she recognized Abdul. She willed herself not to sound nervous. “Yes, I was just on my way back to the fire. The latrine’s all yours. Here, I’ll step aside so you can get by.”
She tried to move out of his way, but his hand flashed out to clamp her wrist. “I don’t have the patience for games,” he growled. “A thousand dollars for a night in my tent. If that’s not enough you can name your price. I’ve got the cash. Just wait till the others are asleep, then come to me.”
Reining in her anger, Terri willed herself to stay calm and be firm. “No,” she said. “I’m not that kind of woman. Just let me go, and we’ll forget all about this.”
“No, you say?” His grip tightened. “More money, then. Two thousand. Three thousand. Shall I keep going? Any woman can be bought for the right offer. All it takes is enough money to turn her into a whore. Five thousand.”
“Let…me…go!” Terri twisted helplessly against the strong hand that clasped her wrist. “Let me go or I’ll scream!”
“Let her go, Abdul. Now.” Buck’s low voice, thin and flat and dangerous, came out of the shadows behind the man. “Do it!” he snarled. “Nobody touches my woman!”
The man dropped his hand, letting her go. “Forgive me, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t know she was your property.” His tone was edged with mockery. “I should have made the offer to you. Five thousand dollars cash for a night with her.”
Buck pushed between Terri and his client. “For five cents, I’d beat you to a bloody pulp and throw you in the river,” he snapped. “Go back to the others. Behave yourself, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But tell your friends, if you or any of them so much as look at her—”
He let the threat hang, turning to Terri as the man stalked back toward the fire. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
Terri struggled to contain herself. Only now did she realize how scared—and how outraged—she’d been. When she tried to speak, the words emerged between hysterical giggles. “Heavens, what were you thinking, Buck? You could’ve made yourself five thousand dollars off me!” She dissolved into helpless spasms that bordered on sobs.
“Stop it, Terri.” His strong hands gripped her shoulders. As she began to tremble, he pulled her close, holding her hard against his chest. “It’s all right, girl. I’m here and, so help me, I won’t let that bastard near you.”
His clasp calmed her. For a moment Terri let him hold her. She felt safe and protected in his arms—but she knew better than to lower her guard. She was in far more danger with Buck than with the sheikh, because her heart was involved.
She forced a careless laugh. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did. Otherwise your billionaire client could’ve ended up with a bloody nose.”
“If he’d hurt you, I’d have given him a lot worse than that.” His arms tightened around her. His voice grated with reined anger.
Despite the warning tingle, she tilted her face upward. He leaned close, within a hand’s breadth of kissing her. But this time, when the alarm bells went off in her head, she listened. Even if she were fool enough to let him kiss her, this wasn’t the time or the place—not when they were facing three nights together in a tiny tent. She pulled away. He let her go.
Still shaken, she tried to make light of the situation. “Wait till I’ve been on the river a couple more days, with no change of clothes, no makeup, and not even a comb or a toothbrush,” she joked, turning back down the path. “I expect my asking price will go way down from five thousand dollars.”
He stopped her with a touch on her shoulder. “You don’t have to go back to the fire, Terri,” he said. “You don’t have to face that man again tonight.”
“But I do. I need to show him that I’m all right, and that the awful things he said didn’t affect me.”
“Fine, but I’ll come with you,” he said, falling into step behind her. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Of course you aren’t.” She pasted on a mocking smile. “After all, as you said, I’m your woman.”
* * *
The night was dark, the narrowed sky above the canyon like a river of stars. By lantern light, Buck helped George and Eli stash the last of the dinner gear in the raft, douse the fire and bury the ashes. Breakfast tomorrow would be coffee heated on a propane stove, fresh fruit and pastries, so no morning fire would be needed.
Buck glanced toward Terri. She was huddled on a flat rock, hugging her knees and looking up at the sky. He knew she must be exhausted—piloting the raft was hard work, and the encounter with Abdul must have left her badly shaken. But even with the four clients zippered into their tents, he didn’t want her going to bed until he was ready to go with her. Earlier, he’d taken Eli and George aside and told them what had happened. Now Terri would have three protectors looking out for her.
Terri was one tough lady. She’d be all right, Buck told himself. But he needed her to have a pleasant, relaxing experience on this trip. If she was stressed out from fending off a misbehaving client, his plan to convince her to stay wouldn’t stand a chance.
Apart from Abdul, the other sheikhs were all right. They were well mannered and cooperative, and appeared to be enjoying themselves despite the rough conditions. But none of them seemed inclined to stand up to Abdul and correct his behavior. Maybe he outranked them in some way, or maybe they’d known him long enough to accept his conduct.