A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) (6 page)

However, that didn’t mean Buck had to put up with it. After the way Abdul had spoken to Terri, the idea of him so much as touching her made Buck want to grab the man by his shirtfront and knock out his front teeth.

Leaving the loaded raft, Buck walked over to where Terri was sitting. “How are you doing?” he asked her.

“Better. The sky makes me feel peaceful. I don’t want to punch anybody anymore.”

He laughed, enjoying her sense of humor. “Ready to turn in?”

“More than ready. I could go to sleep right here on this rock.”

“Come on, then.” He turned on his flashlight and offered his arm, which she took. Earlier he’d sensed her unease about sharing a tent. But he felt no sign of it now. They were both too tired to be tempted by anything except a good night’s rest.

Reaching the tent, he unzipped the flap. The two sleeping bags had been laid out on the floor, with little more than a foot of space between them. “Go ahead,” he said, holding up the flap. “I’ll wait out here while you get out of your clothes and into your sleeping bag.”

“Don’t bother. I’m too tired to undress.” She ducked inside, kicked off her sneakers and hung her damp socks from one of the tent supports. By the time Buck followed her inside, she’d crawled into her sleeping bag and pulled the top up past her ears. If she wasn’t asleep yet, she was making a good show of it.

The night was pleasantly warm. Without bothering to undress, Buck slipped off his boots and stretched out on top of his sleeping bag. He’d expected to drift right off, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him rest. He remembered how Terri had felt in his arms tonight, how she’d clung to him, quivering like a small, scared animal while she cracked lame jokes to hide her fear.

She was amazing—stubborn, brave, sexy and so beautiful that Buck could scarcely believe he’d taken her for granted all these years.

When she’d looked up at him, it had been all he could do to keep from kissing her. Wisely, she’d pulled away. Kissing Terri would have been a mistake. After making love to her, and fighting the urge to do it again, a single kiss would only have left him frustrated, wanting something he could never let himself have again.

Buck was hiding a secret, one he’d kept from her since Steve’s death eleven years ago. That secret alone, if it came out, would be enough to drive her away from him forever.

* * *

Buck’s voice woke Terri at dawn the next morning. She opened her eyes to find him bending over her in the tent with a cup of steaming black coffee in his hand.

“Good morning.” He was annoyingly bright-eyed and cheerful. “How’d you sleep?”

She sat up, finger-raking the tangles out of her hair. “Like death. Did I snore?”

“No comment.” He grinned, stubble-chinned and handsome even at this ungodly hour. “Here, I brought something to wake you up.” He handed her the coffee. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks.” She took a careful sip and felt the lovely, caffeinated heat trickling down her throat. “Are our guests awake?”

“Not yet. I figured I’d give you a head start on the latrine. Ladies first.”

“Thanks again. I don’t suppose you have an extra toothbrush. My mouth tastes like roadkill.”

“Actually, I do. I grabbed it from the gift shop when I realized I was going to have to hijack you to replace Arnie.”

“I’ll take it now, with toothpaste on it, please.”

“Coming up.”

Terri sipped her coffee, watching him as he rummaged in his dry bag. How long had it been since she was last on the river with Buck? The business had gotten so big, her own job so demanding, that she’d forgotten what it was like—the coolness of morning, bird calls blending with the sound of the current, and the first taste of fresh, hot coffee. She was rumpled, dirty and facing another strenuous day at the tiller. But right at this moment, life was good.

She would miss times like this when she left her job. But she hadn’t changed her mind about going.

An hour later they were on the water. Here the canyon was narrower and deeper, its walls towering on both sides of the river. The current was swift, the rapids wild and treacherous. It took all Terri’s skill to maneuver the raft through the tumbling, pitching water. Wave after wave broke over the bow, drenching everyone on board.

The four sheikhs alternately whooped with excitement and clung to the rope lines in fear for their lives. After Terri negotiated an especially challenging stretch of rapids, the men broke into applause. For a woman, especially, it was no small thing to be earning their respect. Terri caught Buck’s eye. He gave her a grin and a thumbs-up.

His approval warmed her—but she’d earned it by being good at her job, Terri reminded herself. She was Buck’s right-hand woman, and loving him would never be enough to change that.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, with the sun sinking below the high canyon rim, they reached calmer water. The smell of wood smoke and barbecue, wafting upriver on the breeze, told them they were nearing their camping place.

It had been a decent day, Buck observed. And Terri had done a great job. She had to be feeling good about the way she’d impressed the clients. But would it be enough to make a difference in her plan to leave?

Twenty minutes later they dragged the raft onto the sand and stumbled—cold, hungry and exhausted—into camp. Even Abdul was subdued. Hopefully he’d be too worn out to complain or make Terri uncomfortable. If the man stepped out of line one more time, Buck wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place.

A hearty meal of barbecued beef, baked beans, potatoes and skillet cornbread revived their spirits, but by the time the meal was done and Eli had serenaded them with a couple of songs, the sheikhs were trudging off to their tents to get ready for bed.

Buck helped Eli and George clear away the meal and stash the gear. Terri had wandered off toward the river. Buck had seen Abdul go into his tent, but he still didn’t like the idea of her being alone. Leaving the boys, he followed the way she’d gone.

He spotted her sitting on a rock at the river’s edge, gazing out across the water. Watching her from behind, he was struck by how lonely she looked. Terri had been with him for ten years. In that time, beautiful and smart as she was, she’d never had a serious relationship with a man. She’d been there for her work, for her grandmother—and for him.

Sensing his presence, she glanced around and saw him. He raised his hand in silent greeting, then came forward and took a place beside her. For a few moments they sat without speaking as the peace of the river flowed around them. Nighthawks swooped and darted, catching insects in the moonlight. The distant call of a coyote echoed down the canyon. Terri’s hands fingered a pebble.

“Are you all right, Terri?” he asked her.

“Fine.” She tossed the pebble into the river. “I just needed a little time to wind down.”

“Am I intruding?”

She gave a slight shake of her head. Maybe she just wanted to be still, Buck thought. But this might be his best chance to talk with her.

“You’re so quiet,” he said. “What are you thinking?”

“The same old thing. Just worrying about what we left behind—work issues, my grandmother and Quinn—especially Quinn.” She turned toward him. “You shouldn’t have gone off and left her without saying goodbye, Buck. Quinn adores you. She needs you more than she lets on. Nobody can take your place, not Mrs. Calloway, not even me.”

He scuffed a foot in the sand. “I’ve been planning to spend more time with her. And I will, when we get back.”

“Planning isn’t the same as doing. You don’t even need to be here. You came because you wanted to interest those sheikhs in that new resort plan. Buck—” She laid a hand on his arm. “Why on earth do you need a new project? You’re already too busy to make time for the most important person in your life—your little girl. And Quinn’s growing up. One day she’ll be on her own and it’ll be too late to have a relationship with her.” Her grip tightened. “You’ve built a great business and done a lot for the town. Why isn’t that enough? Why can’t you let go and make time for what really matters?”

The woman knew where to jab. Buck gazed at the river shimmering in the moonlight, knowing her question made sense but unsure of his answer. “You knew me growing up,” he said. “The poorest kid in town, with a mother who waited tables and turned tricks at the truck stop. Maybe I had to work to get past that. And when I became successful, maybe I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing that made me feel worth something. How’s that for an answer?”

There was more, he realized. It involved making up for the way Steve had died. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Have you ever forgiven your mother?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” It was as honest an answer as he could give.

“She loved you, Buck. What she did—sacrificing her pride, her reputation—she did to keep food on the table and a roof over your head. But maybe you felt like you had to be better than where you came from.”

And maybe he’d shut down emotionally because he’d felt that the mother who’d birthed and raised him hadn’t deserved his love.

But then, damn it, he hadn’t come out here to be psychoanalyzed.

“Don’t quit, Terri,” he said. “I need your help. The season, the gala and Quinn, too—I can’t handle all that without you. I’ll raise your salary, give you stock in the company, cover your grandmother’s care, beat any offer that’s out there. Name it and it’s yours. Just don’t go.”

She stood, her face in shadow. “It’s too late for that, Buck. I’ve already made up my mind. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me when you come to bed.”

As she turned away, the moonlight caught a glimmer of tears.

Hands thrust into his pockets, Buck watched from a distance as she disappeared inside the tent. Blast it, he’d done everything but beg on his knees, but it hadn’t worked. Terri seemed more determined to go than ever.

What was he going to do without her?

* * *

The third day of the run tended to be the most taxing. Today, in the sweltering, tropical heat of the lower canyon, Terri’s unwashed clothes felt sweat-glued to her body. Her hair was stiff with its dried coating of muddy water. Worse, she was nearing the time for her period to start. Since it often came early, she could only cross her fingers and hope Mother Nature would hold off her monthly visit till the party reached the lodges and shops on the rim.

The canyon here had taken on a bleak moonscape quality, with the river rushing between walls of dark gray basalt that dated from the early creation of the earth. There was no shade here, few plants, no visible animals and no refuge from the burning sun.

It was a relief when, at last, the sun went down, the canyon opened up and the raft reached the last night’s campsite. Except for the usual griping from Abdul and some jokes about the canyon being hotter than Dubai, the sheikhs had borne up well. But everybody was sweaty, tired and ready for the trip to end tomorrow.

As the clients trooped up the bank to collapse in folding lawn chairs and gulp cold drinks, Terri stayed behind to help Buck pull the raft higher and secure the line to a boulder.

Buck had been his usual cheerful self, but even he seemed frayed around the edges today. Terri couldn’t help wondering if she was the cause of it.

“At least we should have a calm farewell party,” she said. “Nobody has enough energy to complain, not even Abdul.”

“Lord, let’s hope so.” Buck held out his free hand to help her up the slope. “Come on. Let’s get some dinner and some rest.”

She took his hand and let him pull her up. It wasn’t fair, she groused silently. With his mussed hair, rumpled clothes and stubbly beard, Buck still managed to look like a romance cover model. While she looked more like a drowned rat.

Dinner was grilled chicken with asparagus, roast potatoes and a bottle of alcohol-free champagne, meant for farewell toasts. But no one seemed up for toasting. The bubbly liquid was simply drunk. By the time they’d finished, it was getting dark. Clouds were rolling over the high canyon rim.

Tonight it was George’s turn to entertain. In his melodious voice, accompanied by the rhythms he beat on his painted buckskin drum, he told stories of animals and how, according to legend, things had come about in the beginning of time. Most clients enjoyed George’s stories. But the sheikhs were yawning before he was half-finished. In the middle of a tale, Abdul interrupted with a sharp clap of his hands.

“Enough!” he said imperiously. “How can we call this a party without a dancing girl? You, boy. Give me your drum.”

George’s face was expressionless, but Terri could sense the tension in him as he hesitated, then handed the man the drum, which, Terri knew, had been in his family for generations. With his long, manicured fingers, Abdul began beating out a sensual rhythm. “Now you.” His gaze fixed on Terri, who sat next to Buck. “Stand up. Dance for us.”

This was too much. Terri’s temper rose to the boiling point. She was about to jump up and give the man a piece of her mind when Buck rose to his feet, quivering with too-long-restrained outrage. “Terri isn’t your dancing girl,” he said in a glacial voice. “And that drum isn’t yours to play. Here.” He strode to the far side of the fire, snatched the drum away, returned it to George’s hands and turned back to face Abdul. “Maybe this is how you treat people where you come from. But in this country, especially on my trips, every person has the right to be treated with respect.”

Picking up a five-gallon bucket of river water, he poured it on the fire, dousing the flames. “We’re done here,” he said. “Go back to your tents and get ready to be on the river by sunup. We should be at Phantom Ranch before noon. From there, you can plan on a five-hour mule ride to the top.

As if to underscore his words, he took the half-empty bottle of nonalcoholic champagne and poured it on the smoking ashes. “I mean it,” he said. “We’re done.”

* * *

Buck sat in a lawn chair next to the doused fire pit, stirring the ashes with a stick to check for live coals. As expected, he found none, but at least it gave him something to do.

Everyone else, including Terri, had gone to bed, but Buck was too wired to sleep. This would be his last night in the canyon with Terri. He’d hoped that in the peaceful beauty of this place, he could talk her out of quitting her job. But nothing had gone right. Now she seemed more determined to leave than ever.