by Snow, Nicole
I try to ignore how striking she looks in this car with the sun spilling down in gold rivulets, igniting the landscape around us in a promising spectrum of tans and reds. Phoenix shows most of its fall colors in an interplay of light and shadows.
“Let’s stop back at the hotel and change. I’m not wearing a tie into the desert.” I pull out of the rental place’s parking lot. “It’s nothing like the summer here, but a hike in the evening sun can still get warm. Just curious, why didn’t you make our reservations at the resort? I would’ve paid any upcharge for the convenience.”
“They were booked,” she says. “Sorry. I made the reservations the day you asked me to. Reading your mind isn’t on my list of powers yet.”
Yet?
I snort, nodding. “It’s fine. I didn’t decide if this was the conference I’d bring the entire team to until I saw the attendee list.”
“Always so tactical.” She grins.
“Always.” I pull into the hotel and leave the car with the valet to watch for the next ten minutes. “You’ll want jeans and sneakers.”
Sabrina’s eyes roll up like she’s thinking as we head for the elevator.
“Thanks, Dad. I can dress myself.”
I smile. “What, do you not have those things?”
“Won’t yoga pants and flip-flops do the trick?”
I chuckle. “I’ll loan you a pair of shoes.”
She glances down at my feet. “Yeah, I’m not sure that’s going to work. We’d also better get going while there’s still plenty of light.”
“Fine. Do flip-flops and we’ll stay on the kiddie trails. I guess I’ll carry you if we meet a scorpion.”
“Probably for the best.” She laughs, but I can’t help but notice the rosy glow on her cheeks. “Minus the you carrying me part.”
Oh, really?
I keep my quips to myself for once as we split apart for our rooms.
* * *
After swapping my suit for jeans and a button-down shirt, I head for the lobby, making a quick stop at the front desk to pick up the basket I ordered.
“Are you ready?” a familiar voice behind me asks.
I turn to find a very different Sabrina Bristol than any I’ve encountered. My breath catches for a hot second.
She’s wearing pink pants that accent every curve and a tie-dyed tank top underneath a silky white cardigan.
As usual, she’s gorgeous, but the dramatic tie-dye is probably the most outlandish thing I’ve ever seen her in. “You’re into tie-dye? Do you also have a crystal healing habit I didn’t know about?”
She grins and her face goes rosy again. There goes my dick, jerking in my trousers like a badly behaved pet.
“The tank top’s technically part of my pajamas. When we come to these things, we never get much time to explore. I kinda figured I’d be in meetings the whole time we were here. So I didn’t pack for an outing at the park.”
“You aren’t going to want to wear those clothes to bed after being out in the sand.” I instantly regret my words.
What will she wear to bed, then?
I already know she’s adorable when she sleeps, I see it every time on our jet rides, and tonight she’ll probably have to sleep nude.
Fuck, what does she look like when—
“Are you okay?” Her eyes soften, and she bites her bottom lip with a smile.
Dammit, I’m flustered, and I’m sure she knows it.
“Never better. Let’s go. I know a few good places we can go. It’s not quite Sedona with its fabulous rocks and greenery, but Saguaros and sunsets are a godsend.”
Her gaze falls to the basket hanging in my hand.
“What’s that?”
I shrug. “Snacks. Just a few light things I had packed. Come on.”
I walk toward the door, forcing an end to this conversation.
Sabrina tags along, but being locked inside a vrooming sports car with her does nothing to calm my—nerves?
Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.
Any other description would be far less appropriate when it involves the hard-on from hell that just won’t die.
“Where are we going?” she asks, turning to bat her happy mocha-colored eyes at me.
“McDowell Mountain Park. It’s a big place, tons of trails, mountains, and wildlife. If we’re lucky, we’ll see a tortoise.”
“Oh, yay. I love those guys.” She claps her hands together softly.
God. I wish a certain part of my anatomy came with a shell to hide. It’d make this insane venture of mine a lot less awkward.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her widening grin, hoping she hasn’t noticed my bulge.
I don’t say anything but glance from the road to her.
“You want to hear something funny? It’s slightly pathetic, maybe, but I think you’ll laugh.”
“Sure,” I tell her.
“This is probably the craziest place I’ve ever been, away from Illinois. The scenery, the air, the sun...it’s all so different here. I mean, before working for you and traveling to hotel rooms all over the country but never actually leaving the hotels, at least, I’d never been anywhere more exotic than Wisconsin.”
Wow. What has her life been like? I’m not blind to my own privilege and luxuries, but she seems sheltered even compared to my other hires.
“Do you like expanding your world?”
“Yeah.” She leans her head against the car window. “I love the mountains and cacti here. It looks like another planet compared to the Midwest. And I don’t mind traveling for work—I’m grateful for the chance—but...I also hope someday I’m able to go places with time to soak them in.”
I chuckle. “Work isn’t a vacation. We’re dealing with very demanding clients and competitors pissier than any rattlesnake out here.”
“I know, but we were so close to Hollywood in L.A. I wish I could’ve seen the stars.”
“Like who?” I ask.
“No, not actors. Like the ones on the ground.”
“Oh—the Avenue of Stars,” I say.
Mental note: Next time we’re in L.A., make sure there’s time for a Hollywood trip.
The desert sun dips low in the sky, casting a brilliant neon-red sheet over everything. We’re well outside the city now, past Scottsdale and Fountain Hills. The suburban houses thin and the landscape turns wilder, filled with brush and soaring cacti and hawks that look like they’re on a mission.
“Whoa.” Sabrina fuses her face to the passenger window. “This is beautiful, Mr. Heron. I knew I’d like the desert since it’s unique, but I didn’t know it’d be so breathtaking.”
“It only gets better at sunset. Trust me.”
“Wow, look—that’s amazing!” She beams with a smile far brighter than the landscape lit all around us.
I glance over.
She’s pointing to the mountain range in the distance, one of the taller McDowells with its wrinkled, rolling peaks and winding valleys. It looks like a giant took a rake to the entire landscape thousands of years ago.
“I’ve never seen rocks like that before,” she whispers with the awe only a flatlander has.
“There were mountains in L.A.,” I remind her, fighting a smile.
“Oh, right. We didn’t really get out of the hotel much.”
“I’m sorry.” I pull over to the side of the road.
She shrugs, rolling her delicate shoulders.
“It’s business, and you pay well. I’m not complaining.” She blinks as I turn down a rockier side road. “What are we doing?”
“Since you adore the mountains so much, I thought we’d stop and have a look around. This is part of the main park, anyway. Just not the main entrance.”
“Oh, sounds great.”
A minute later, we’re parked and she opens her door, stepping out with the grace of an explorer in a new world.
“Be careful,” I say, getting out of the car. “Flip-flops probably aren’t the best shoes for this excursion. These trails
are rougher than they look.”
“Chill. I’m totally fine,” she assures me, throwing a thumbs-up as the desert breeze whips her hair around.
Destroyed.
For what feels like a minute, I’m rooted to the ground, standing there like a lunk who’s forgotten how to walk.
All because the Arizona sun turns Sabrina Bristol into a work of art.
Passion.
Music.
Soul.
She’s an angel cast in rusted light and shadows that contrast far too brilliantly with her mahogany hair and a smile that could rob a man blind.
My hands drift to my pockets, though my wallet isn’t what I’m worried about losing.
I just don’t have a way to check my head, my heart, and find out if I’m still all there, or completely hollowed out by this spitfire Venus I damn sure shouldn’t be fawning over.
“Follow me,” I clip off, forcing my knees to move so I break the trance.
I point to the mountaintop and a wide, flat ledge of rocks below that should make a good place to sit.
“We’ll have a great view from there if we hurry.” I grab the picnic basket out of the back seat and lead the way.
A few minutes in, I turn back to find Sabrina struggling along behind me.
“Why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll catch up,” I tell her.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“I insist. Ladies first.” I wave my arm in front of me, hoping she’ll pass.
The ground becomes rockier and less even when we’re closer to the shaded area I plan to stop at. Sabrina almost loses her footing, rocks skidding out from under her.
I slow down, ready to catch her if she falls. She uses her hands to catch herself and rebalance several times, yet continues the climb.
She’s quick on her feet.
I’m not sure I could do that so gracefully in flip-flops.
Then she missteps with a loud squeal.
I slide the picnic basket up my wrist and stretch my arms to catch her. It doesn’t matter though, because she’s falling, overcompensating her balance, and slams into my chest.
Shit.
I brace myself to keep from keeling over with her. My free hand instinctively closes around her, turns her gently to face me, and I hand her the picnic basket.
“Hold this.”
“Why?” she asks.
I sweep her off her feet. Literally.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m cradling her head in one elbow while her feet dangle over my other. Our eyes lock with a hot polarity that makes her gasp.
Fuck.
For a second, I wish this grip on her was about more than preventing a broken neck. She trembles at my touch, supple curves and rippling hair, my own raging desire personified in one stubborn, gorgeous, and right now far too vulnerable young woman.
Sabrina.
You’re fucking killing me.
I have to turn my head, breaking our stare, and take a ragged breath. Who knew something that feels this good could be torture?
The proximity reminds me how beautiful she is, and the way she stares up at my lips with hers parted, stunned, and wanting does nothing to dispel the demon thoughts in my brain.
“Are you crazy?” she demands. “You’re...you’re actually carrying me. Did you see a scorpion?”
I smile, wishing like hell I had a less lethal reason for hoisting her up.
I’m fully aware this is inappropriate.
Making sure she doesn’t break her neck isn’t.
“Worse,” I tell her. “A broken neck and wrongful death suit are both things I don’t need. Send me an army of scorpions over that.”
“Ha-ha,” she says, wrinkling her nose.
She tries to glare at me, but it’s diminished by the way her lips turn up in a smile.
“I thought it was funny,” I growl. “Where’s your sense of humor?”
“Nowhere with creepy crawlies involved.” She shudders, tucking herself into my chest. “I don’t need that kind of wildlife up here.”
When we reach the ledge several paces later, I set her on her feet.
“Thank you,” she says.
“For what?”
She hugs her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes to the side. “Um, everything? Getting me out of that conference early, driving us here, making sure I didn’t fall on my butt. You’re a nice guy when you want to be.”
I don’t dare acknowledge that last part, so I spread out the picnic basket, the blanket, and open the wine. I pass her a glass I’ve unpacked.
“You make it sound like I rescued you from a burning building. You hated the Adzilla conference that much?” Something in my gut screams I should say more, but this seems like a benign place to start.
She bites her lip.
“I liked the presentations. Very informative. I’m still pretty new to this industry.” She gives a half-smile, but the expression looks pained. “I can’t say I really like the forced socializing. It felt like high school on steroids.”
Nice punch to the gut, but how can I blame her?
After that first night and my outburst with Jake Willis, anyone would wonder.
“I’m sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “If anything I did spoiled your time here, rest assured it won’t repeat itself. I’m a man who learns from his mistakes.”
And I am, even if the confrontation with Willis felt more like a near-crime of passion than any boo-boo.
Sabrina sits down, crossing her legs in front of her, sipping her wine. “Don’t worry. I’m not complaining. This is the perfect end to a pretty decent time here.”
“Tell me something good,” I say, clinking my glass softly against hers. “There’s more to your life than proving you can handle whatever I throw at you, hiding from black cats, and never venturing beyond the Wisconsin hinterlands.”
Her smile is almost sad, and those russet-brown eyes darken a shade.
“I’m an open book, but there isn’t much to tell. My friends call me Brina.” She bites her lip. “You—you could call me Brina.”
“Brina.” I roll the name off my tongue, tasting how soft it feels mingled with the wine. “That’s pretty, I’ll admit. My friends and enemies alike call me Mag, but you already knew it. You can, too, if you’d like, since we already went there over email.”
“Oh my God.” She laughs. “You have friends? Besides Ruby and Armstrong, I mean? I didn’t really think you did anything but work.”
Damn.
Busted.
Of course, I’m not going to let her know how artificial my social life really is.
“I don’t do the best job keeping in touch with the folks who count. Not really, but they do exist. A couple guys from my old unit, now settled back in Cleveland with wives and kids,” I say, finishing a glass of wine and filling another for her. “So, Brina, what else? Work, Wisconsin, and...?”
“I still design whenever I get a chance. I’ve always loved art, and it’s how I met my bestie in school, Paige. Right now, though, I just like making money. Keeping a roof over my head gets expensive in the city. So is the leaky roof over my paren—” She stops mid-sentence and goes quiet.
I lean in, waiting for more, hating how she turns away.
One more reason I’m glad I hired her after that day in the park.
Besides being the best executive assistant I’ve ever had, she really needs this job.
“A leaky roof sounds dangerous with winter almost here,” I mumble, pulling out my phone and opening a page I’ve bookmarked with a certain whimsical romance author.
“What are you doing?” she asks, draining her glass, struggling to look over my shoulder. “Mag?”
“Nothing,” I say, trying not to smile.
“You’re lying,” she squeaks, reaching for my phone. “Let me see, c’mon!”
I jerk it away from her, type five thousand units into the quantity field, and before she can stop me, I hit buy.
“I want to see!” she holler
s, twisting around like a playful kitten.
I’m laughing as her hand waves in front of my face. I lean back, moving the phone away from her.
The confirmation page comes up just as her hand closes around my phone, and she bends it in a way my hand can’t twist. The screen lights up her face in the dusk, showing me how delicate her lips look when they fall open, forming a perfect red O.
She stares at it for a minute and then looks at me. “Five thousand copies of Farm Love? Are you insane?”
“Yes. We talked about romance books in L.A., and you never told me your mom wrote them,” I say sharply, narrowing my eyes at her. “My EA needs to be more forthcoming. Now your parents can have a brand-new roof over their heads while libraries all over the country enjoy Emily Bristol’s work. Consider it a bonus. A belated one I would’ve given you anyway after your work on Woof Meow Chow and the Jazzle Razzle accounts. We might have lost Stedfaust and his gourmet pet food if you hadn’t been in the meeting that day.”
I didn’t think her eyes could get any wider, but they do.
“And frankly, I should’ve apologized sooner,” I grind out. “Better late than never. I’m only half the devil you think I am, Sabrina.”
“It’s...I just...what? Okay. First, it’s not an EA’s place to be ‘forthcoming—’” She puts finger quotes around that word and I smile. “Not about her parents’ occupations. Not even with her boss. But I’m glad you’re happy with my work, apology accepted, and...thank you, Mag. Thank you so, so much.”
Does she hear herself?
How could I not be pleased with her work? Aside from me, she’s hands down the hardest worker at the senior level, and she’s a breath of fresh air.
“You’re welcome,” I mutter, totally disinterested in drowning in her praise.
I turn my head and wait for her to follow, which she does a minute later.
“Will you look at that?” I say, pointing to the sky.
The lingering sunset turns the whole landscape into brilliant stripes of pink, red, purple, and orange. All the magic this place is known for, as I’ve seen years ago on other trips.
This time, though, it isn’t just the sun freeing my overworked mind.
Brina is a torrid sight I’ll never forget.