by Nicola Marsh
‘Help me get this stuff packed away, you big oaf.’ Cody winked at Jade as he pushed Jack towards the supplies and she smiled her thanks.
‘Well, this place looks like a hive of activity.’
She stiffened at the sound of Rhys’s deep voice behind her, every rebellious cell in her body leaping to attention. Her libido shouldn’t twang like this, not after what he’d said, but it looked as if her body had missed the chill-out memo her mind had dictated earlier.
Mustering her best blasé expression, the one her mum used to snub people beneath her to great effect, she turned towards him.
‘We’re sorting supplies. Want to help?’
She expected him to bolt but, then again, when did he ever do anything she expected?
‘Sure.’
‘We’ll offload the rest of the stuff. Jack, come help.’
Intuitive, Cody raised an eyebrow and she nodded, grateful for the time alone with Rhys. If they were to continuing working together, she had a few things to say.
‘Need a hand?’
Of course Rhys wanted to help the boys. He must’ve caught a glimpse of the smoke pouring out of her ears.
‘We’ve got it covered, boss. You stay and help Jade.’
Giving her a thumbs-up sign behind Rhys’s back, Cody headed off, leaving her with a man who looked decidedly uncomfortable. Maybe the guy had a conscience after all.
‘You seem to have everything under control. Maybe I’ll start dinner—’
‘Stay.’
To her amazement, a faint pink stained his cheeks. Could her suave, rugged boss be blushing? Could he actually have a heart?
Squaring her shoulders, she eyeballed him. ‘I owe you an apology.’
His eyebrows shot up, his shocked expression almost comical.
‘Calling my boss a bastard doesn’t exactly hold me in good stead for employee of the year, so I’m sorry.’
‘I should be the one apologising.’
Jamming his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, he rolled back on the balls of his feet, edgy and awkward.
‘I acted like a jerk.’
And then some, but this wasn’t about rehashing what they’d said. It was about establishing a working relationship so she could get through the rest of her tenure without falling apart and running back to Sydney with her dreams of being a biologist in tatters.
‘At least we both know where we stand.’
The awkward silence lengthened and she glanced away, uncomfortable beneath his piercing stare. He looked at her as if he wanted to say more, regret evident in the down-turning of his mouth, in his morose expression.
Sadly, there was nothing more to say.
She was a complication he didn’t want; he was a complication she didn’t need.
Frowning, he said, ‘This is—’
‘How it’s going to be ’til my contract runs out.’
Pointing at the next box to be shifted, she squatted to get a good grip. ‘Give me a hand?’
With a terse nod, he did just that.
They worked in silence until Cody and Jack returned, and as she joined in the boys’ usual ribbing she couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the closeness she’d developed with Rhys.
They’d talked, they’d laughed, they’d screwed it all up by having sex.
As he bent to hoist the last few boxes she struggled to keep her gaze off his butt—and lost—one thought echoing through her head.
What a damn shame.
As Jade dragged the last of the heavy branches out of the forest and into a small clearing she took one look at Rhys standing like a sentinel over the towering pile of wood offcuts and wanted to bolt back into the welcome darkness of the trees.
Swinging an axe to fell saplings, wielding a machete to trim branches, stacking wood, stripping back and repainting canoes she could handle—though her aching, calloused hands would probably argue the point—but another second under his cool indifference would make her take an axe to him.
It had been a month, four long, excruciatingly long, weeks, where she’d done her best to act professional, tackling every task with unbridled enthusiasm, determined to show him that what had happened between them didn’t affect her in the slightest.
At first she’d thought his pushing her to take on more tasks, more responsibility, was another test, seeing how far she’d go before cracking. But he wasn’t unfair in his demands, just bossy and superior, exactly how he’d been at the start when he’d set that challenge.
This time he was using work as a reinforcement of their relationship. Him, boss; her, employee.
She should be glad. Focusing on doing a good job and showing him she was more than up for any task he set kept her mind off that one, incredible night they’d shared, and what they could have again if he weren’t so pig-headed.
Though her sweeter-than-honey employee-of-the-month routine was wearing him down. She could tell. The harder she strove without protesting, the tenser he became. And she’d caught him checking her out. Several times, which only served to spike her latent anger.
For she was angry, furious in fact, that they’d had one wonderful night together and could have more if he weren’t so darn stubborn. He’d hurt her and she’d coped by throwing herself into work, but regret that he’d broken off their fledgling relationship before they’d given it a chance still gnawed, urging her to do something about it.
She wouldn’t have got this far—leaving her cushy life behind, doggedly pursuing her dream, determined to ultimately make it as a biologist—if she were content to sit back and let things happen. She liked her newfound independence, liked being in control of her own destiny, which made this situation even more untenable.
What was the point of mincing words and tiptoeing around each other in a taut working relationship when they could be relaxed, easy-going, enjoying each other’s company socially and professionally? And physically, though she wouldn’t go there now, not when his reticence to acknowledge the sparks between them had her so close to breaking point that one more itty-bitty confrontation and she’d snap like the twigs on the kindling pile.
Surely she wasn’t the only edgy one, yet there he stood, clutching his clipboard, master of his domain, cool, imperturbable, infuriating.
What she wouldn’t give to shake him up a little, test his mettle, see if work-focused Ranger was as unflappable as he portrayed.
It came to her in that second.
She’d done the right thing over the last month, being the model employee, subduing her hurt at his rejection, agreeing to the emotionless terms he’d set. And what had it got her? His admiration for her job skills and little else. Time to change the status quo. Up the ante. He might have set the boundaries for their relationship, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t push them, right?
Hoisting the heavy branch onto her shoulder for extra effect, she marched across the clearing and dumped it on top of the stack she’d already collected.
‘That’s the last of them. What’s next?’
He didn’t glance up from his clipboard, his frown clear indication her jaunty tone pained him as much as her accomplishing another task in record time.
‘Take a breather.’
‘I’d rather keep going. Build up my stamina.’
He glanced up, his frown intensifying, while something unfathomable shifted behind those ice-blue eyes.
‘You’ve done enough for today. Take the afternoon off.’
‘Maybe Cody and Jack need a hand? Clearing undergrowth from the picnic area is a huge job. I’m sure they’d like some help—’
‘You need a break. Take it.’
He swung away, but not before she’d seen guilt streak across his face. So the guy had a heart, buried deep beneath layers of self-imposed guilt and macho bravado.
She could do as he said, take the easy option. But their monthly supply run was coming up fast and this time it was their turn to head into Skagway. Things were tense enough now; no way could she put up with any mo
re.
‘I don’t need a break. I need—’
You. One little word, so simple yet so complex.
He swung back to face her, his expression wary.
Not willing to push that far yet, she pretended to examine her blistered hands.
‘I need a manicure, badly.’
His relief was comical. ‘Can’t help you there.’
Spurred by a little mischievous imp residing in her brain, she stepped closer, rolled her shoulders.
‘Maybe another of those massages you’re so good at?’
Heat flared in his eyes before he damped it with a deliberate blink.
‘No.’
‘Pity, because I’ve got a really tight spot right about here.’
She lifted one shoulder before stretching it back, biting back a triumphant laugh when his gaze strayed to her breasts stretched against the cool wool of her crimson jumper.
‘And here.’
Turning around, she pointed to her lower back, knowing where his gaze would end up—about a foot lower.
‘Don’t push me, Jade.’
His gravelly voice sent a shiver of yearning through her as she slowly turned back to face him, grateful it had come to this.
‘Like how you’ve pushed me?’
‘That’s different. It’s work,’ he ground out, flinging the clipboard away and thrusting his hands into his pockets.
Taking a step, another, she got right up close, close enough for her sensory receptors to hit overload the minute she inhaled his addictive outdoorsy scent.
‘Is it?’
‘Yes, damn it.’
His rebuke lost some of its force when she smiled, refusing to give an inch.
He took a step back, she took a step forward, spurred by the need to confront him and his crazy ideas of ignoring this thing between them.
‘Here’s what I think.’ She laid her palm against his chest. ‘I think you’re hoping I’ll crack. The harder you push me, you think the angrier I’ll get. Who knows—maybe you want me to quit?’
Her palm slid upward, rested over his heart, to show him she meant business. ‘Well, here’s a news flash for you. I’m made of sterner stuff than that.’
Tilting her head up, she met his steely gaze unflinchingly. ‘I can handle anything you care to dish out and more, Ranger.’
He didn’t move, every muscle rigid, the hard angles of his face highlighted by the wan sunlight dappling the clearing.
She had no idea how long they stood there, toe to toe, each unwilling to back down, the silence amplifying every breath frosting the air between them.
Then a shift, a small one, as he angled his body towards her rather than stepping away, the corners of his mouth easing into a smile that snatched her breath and made her crave him more than ever.
‘Maybe it’s time to ditch the Princess tag?’ He gestured at the wood pile. ‘Perhaps Wonder Woman fits better these days?’
She chuckled, buoyed by his backhanded compliment.
‘See this?’ She touched his mouth, briefly traced his smile, before dropping her hand. ‘I want to see more of that in Skagway. Lose the angst. It’s not working.’
To his credit, he didn’t play dumb. ‘Focusing on business is easier than thinking about us.’
She snapped her fingers. ‘Well, golly, Ranger, and here I was, unaware there was even an us.’
‘Bit late for coyness.’
Patting his big, broad chest, she glanced up from beneath her lashes. ‘I’m not the one playing hard to get.’
He laughed outright at that and for a long, exquisite moment, when his gaze drifted to her lips, she thought he might kiss her.
‘Nothing has essentially changed. We still can’t be together.’
‘So you keep saying,’ she muttered, annoyed that the faux closeness of the last few moments, the lovely flirting, the easing of residual tension only to be replaced by sexual tension, had vanished.
This time, when he stepped away, she knew the spell had broken. ‘Did the boys mention the accommodation situation in Skagway?’
‘About hotels booked out by the fishing convention? Yeah, they told me.’
He hesitated, and she didn’t make it easier for him, knowing the source of his unease. ‘And you’re okay with staying at my condo?’
‘I’m okay if you are.’
She hadn’t been, not at the start. When Cody had told her she’d pretended to nod and act all businesslike, saving her hissy fit for back in her room. The way Rhys had treated her the last month she’d rather sleep buck naked in an igloo than share a condo with him, until reality hit.
This supply trip was all business; Rhys wanted to pretend all they had between them was business. Let them see how long Ranger lasted in business mode when they had to be in each other’s faces for a weekend.
‘Don’t worry, I’m immune to you now. Your virtue’s safe.’
In a flash he’d captured her chin, brushing his thumb with tantalising, deliberate thoroughness across her bottom lip.
‘Immune, huh?’
He swooped in for a kiss, a quick, hard, prove-a-point meshing of lips before he broke it off, picked up his clipboard and strode away without looking back.
Lucky for her, for her knees shook so hard she plopped onto the nearest log and ended up dislodging her neat woodpile and sending the lot scattering.
Great. Looked as if her work efforts were in the same state as her resolve.
In tatters.
Dumping his backpack on the rocky shore, Rhys scanned the forest edge for Jade. She should’ve been here by now. Maybe she’d backed out of the supply trip? After their confrontation yesterday, he could live in hope.
One month had passed since they’d slept together.
Four long weeks.
Twenty-eight excruciatingly long days.
He’d tried the polite, cool, distant approach, he’d tried the reserved approach, he’d tried the pushy boss approach, yet Jade acted the same, treating him with respect underlined by wry amusement. As if she was waiting for him to snap and change his mind about their situation.
He should be happy. She was the model employee: dedicated, driven, enthusiastic. When the tourists filled out feedback forms at the end of a day in the wilderness, her name popped up constantly, carving him a regular dose of humble pie.
Initially, he’d expected her to fail spectacularly out here, had half expected to send her back on the first JetCat out of here. But she’d surpassed his wildest expectations.
And his wildest fantasies.
He groaned, swiped a hand over his face. It did little to wipe the constant X-rated flick playing in his head, the one that remembered every torturous detail of their one staggering night together.
Seeing her every day over the last month yet being unable to touch had been pure torture. He’d wanted it this way, didn’t need the complication. But what if trying to hold her at bay made things worse rather than better?
Damn, he needed her. It had moved past wanting a long time ago. If it had been that easy, having sex would’ve scratched that itch and he could’ve moved on. Instead, he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, without constantly thinking about her, wishing for something he could never risk having.
Then she had to go and push him yesterday, baiting him, teasing him to get a response and, hot damn, he’d given it to her. He’d already been hanging on to his shredded self-control by a thread and after four long, tense weeks her deliberate goading had got to him. He’d snapped.
That kiss shouldn’t have happened. Though he guessed he should be grateful he’d settled for a brief kiss when he’d wanted so much more.
‘Ready to go?’
He blinked as she strode towards him, all long denim-clad legs and tight red jumper highlighting curves that made his palms itch to run all over them.
‘Sure.’
He looked away, out over the water, needing to focus on something else before she read the desperate yearning in his eyes. ‘JetCat should be h
ere in a minute.’
‘No worries.’
She dumped her backpack next to his, bent to pick up a rock, and skipped it across the water.
‘Where’d you learn to do that?’
‘My dad.’
Her wary tone didn’t invite further questions but he’d already damaged their relationship beyond repair. What was one more foot in mouth?
‘Have you spoken to your folks since you got here?’
‘Hell, no!’
She stood, dusted off her hands—of the rock or symbolic of washing her hands of her folks? ‘Besides, I bet they’re too busy traipsing around the world to even notice I’m gone.’
Something in her tone alerted him to a deep, dark hurt and before he could second-guess himself he placed a hand on her shoulder. To his relief, she didn’t shrug him off.
‘You coming here was about them too, wasn’t it?’
She chewed on her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth, and he clamped down on the urge to trace its fullness with his fingertip.
Squeezing her shoulder, his hand dropped, but he didn’t back away, standing close, there if she needed him.
With a resigned sigh, she glanced up and what he saw in her eyes punched him in the gut: disillusionment.
‘What did they do?’
Apart from her dad pulling strings to get her this job, interfering, when he had a suspicion she’d throw a fit if she ever found out.
As if she was coming to a personal decision, her shoulders sagged, some of the tension draining out of her.
‘I saw my dad with another woman. I told my mum. Know what she said?’
He shook his head, though he could guess. His parents moved in the same circles as hers, would happily shove any scandal under the priceless Aubusson rug rather than taint the perfect image.
‘That I was naïve. Women in our position should expect things like this to happen, should turn a blind eye.’
Her mouth contorted. ‘Men have urges, apparently, it has nothing to do with the family and I’d do well to remember that for my own marriage.’
He swore, guessing what came next.
‘Like I’d ever put up with crap like that.’
Her hands fisted, her defeated posture snapping upright. ‘So I confronted Julian, asked him if he’d ever play away on me, expecting him to say, “no way, honey, you’re my one and only true love”.’