She got to her room and he got to his. He slipped his key card into the door and toed it open. Goldilocks seemed to be having trouble, and he wasn’t about to leave her out in the hallway so he waited. Contemplated inviting her into his room for the tenth time in the last two minutes.
But if he did that, no way could he trust himself to be a gentleman. And while he’d thought about doing all sorts of uncivilized things with her since watching her try to tie her bikini top, he had to kick those ideas out of his head. No way would he risk losing his million-dollar bet to Clay over her irresistible sweet-and-sexy temperament. Not to mention she was a reporter on assignment and getting up close and personal wasn’t part of the deal. He only needed to keep his hands off for a week. After that, he’d never see her again.
Her door lock finally unclicked. She pushed it open and peeked inside. “Looks like we’re connected.”
“Don’t even think about barging in on me,” he said, unable to keep the hint of mirth out of his voice, and then he slipped into his room before he connected them in all sorts of ways.
Chapter Four
Charlie sighed. The words “painted desert” made perfect sense now. The stretch of Route 66 highway she and Connor were traveling on looked like something out of an Ansel Adams painting. And it looked even more picturesque the second time.
She peeked at her none too happy driver. The tense muscles of his neck stood out and the tight set of his jaw put her a little on edge. Only a little because he still looked irritatingly gorgeous with his wavy hair, defined cheekbones, and blue cotton polo shirt. Not rumpled in the least given all the time they’d spent in the car. The silent treatment, however, killed her. Pretty soon she’d start belting out, “Get your kicks on Route 66” to see if that might get him to lighten up.
Yes, she’d accidentally left Ash’s—her—camera at the Shake & Soda Shack and they’d had to drive back there this morning to pick it up, but she’d apologized. Twice. Once on the way there and once on the way back. Give a girl a break. This was her first big assignment and she’d gotten a little flustered.
Only he didn’t know that.
The first part anyway. He’d definitely seen her flustered yesterday and had smiled at her several times when no one was looking. It was as if he found her something of an anomaly and it had put her at ease for some strange reason. Maybe he did know about the first part and had decided to play along.
But mess up his schedule and jeez, he turned back into Captain Sourpuss.
She ran her fingers over the stamped penny in her pocket. So far luck had yet to make an appearance.
“Tell me why Route 66,” she said in her serious-reporter voice to break the silence. The roof shielded them from the sun today, and she turned her air vent to the side for a little less cold draft. “There are monuments all over the world. What made this project a must?”
“Two main reasons.” He tossed a quick peek at her. “The surviving businesses along the highway were struggling and the roadside architecture was deteriorating. If we can restore what is arguably one of the biggest tapestries of twentieth century Americana, then we help revitalize the communities whose economies have declined.”
“History is important to you.” She stared at his profile. He also hadn’t shaved this morning and the stubble made him look even sexier—if that were possible.
“Yeah, it is.”
“I can barely remember what happened last week.”
He turned his head and though she couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, she did notice his brows inch up. “I think we’ve established you have a memory problem.”
“Oh come on. Like you’ve never forgotten something.”
“Nope.” His shoulders relaxed, and his voice took on a playful tone.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Then you’re just weird.”
He tried to hide it, but Charlie caught a teensy, tiny smile. He probably didn’t get called weird very often. If ever. “More like mindful,” he said. “With three older sisters who constantly acted like a Mother Hen, they drilled responsibility into me.”
What little hair she had on her arms stood on end in annoyance. “Are you saying I’m not responsible?”
“I’m saying you might have a blithe disregard for organization.”
Twisting to face him better, she brought one leg up under her bottom. Her insides itched to get into it with him. It having more than one meaning, but she’d focus on his flippant remark right now. “I didn’t know nature boys knew words like blithe.”
His smile widened. “My Stanford professors would be appalled to hear you talk like that. And my sisters would kick your ass.”
Stanford? She’d graduated from there, too, but she’d rather talk about his family. “Sounds like you’re close to them. What do they do?” Sandra Swanson and Amory Gibson had done a great job of keeping their kids out of the limelight. Charlie supposed her parents had as well.
“They’re all married with small children. They do the mom thing and a lot of charity work.”
“Do you see them very often?” Charlie had always wanted a sister. Someone she could confide in, who wouldn’t judge or dismiss her.
Connor scratched behind his neck. “Not as often as they’d like. But they call and text and send me videos of my nieces and nephews.”
Charlie closed her eyes and slid her leg out from under her. She settled back against her seat and looked out the windshield at the vast desert landscape. “Sounds nice.”
“What about you?”
“It’s just me,” she said, letting a little too much wistfulness creep into her voice. Which was silly. She’d never been lonely. Her parents paid her plenty of attention—a blessing and a curse—and she never had a shortage of friends.
“Sounds nice.” He gifted her with that full-wattage smile of his.
She appreciated it, sensing he knew she hadn’t loved being an only child. “So your sisters tortured you with accountability. Did they paint your nails and put flowers in your hair, too?”
He laughed and the rich, happy sound was like a burst of sunshine inside her chest. God, when he relaxed, he could do serious damage to a girl.
“They did. That’s strictly off the record by the way.”
“Of course.”
“I’m guessing you gave your parents a run for their money all on your own.”
Her turn to grin. “Most definitely. They were overprotective, which meant I rebelled as best I could. Hey, what’s that?” She squinted, trying to make out some activity up ahead in the sweep of barren land.
“Looks like—”
“It’s a carnival. That’s a Ferris wheel.” Beyond the fair, a small town came into view as the highway started a slow descent. She leaned forward in excitement. “Let’s check it out.”
“No time.”
Charlie shot him a pleading look. “Twenty minutes. Just one quick ride and one game if they have them.”
He shook his head. “We’re running late, and I don’t plan to waste any more time.”
“Okay, first off, stopping to do something fun is not a waste of time. And second, you really need to chill on the schedule, dude. I’ve got nowhere to be after our interview so don’t think you have to keep to six days for my benefit. I’m flexible.”
“I’m not.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he added. “A buddy of mine is getting married and after we finish in Oklahoma City, I need to get to Denver.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“The twenty-third.”
“That’s the following weekend. I may not be the best at directions, but I don’t think it takes a week to get there.”
“True, but—”
“Please, Connor. I promise to be quick.” They were almost upon it now, and she thought about reaching over and taking hold of the steering wheel to veer them off the highway.
His chest slowly rose and fell, the li
ght blue shirt stretching across his very fine muscles. A peek inside his head would probably reveal a scroll of theories in bold font. Like, stopping + carnival ride = 15.4 minutes and parking + ride and game = 22.7 minutes.
“You’ve never been to a carnival before, have you?” Tenderness replaced firmness in his tone.
She shook her head, too choked up to answer. She’d traveled to a great many places with her parents, but her father only stayed in five-star hotels and considered the slides at the swimming pools amusement enough.
Connor let out a resigned sigh and took the exit. He got in line behind about a dozen cars to pay the parking fee before entering the festival grounds.
“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching out to squeeze his arm. Touching him sparked feel-good prickles in her fingertips.
“You should probably use the bathroom while we’re here, too.”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, sir, Mr. Time Police.” Could she help that she had a bladder the size of a walnut?
They parked and headed toward the red-and-white-striped awning at the entrance. Connor refused to let her pay for their entry, and when the girl in the small booth asked if they’d like to purchase ride tickets too, he bought them each the best deal: twenty-five tickets for twenty bucks. She wasn’t sure if he only had twenties in his wallet or if he wanted her to enjoy more than one ride.
It didn’t matter. She grabbed his hand, wanting to feel those warm sensations again, and headed straight for the Ferris wheel. “Come on!”
His grip tightened and she glanced back at his gorgeous eyes, sculpted cheeks, and mouth she was pretty sure could make a straw moan. Her heart pounded. She hadn’t meant to turn this into something that felt a thousand miles away from professional, but from the attentive look on his face, she got the feeling deep down, he thought so, too.
…
The woman unnerved him. Confused him. And the only thing he knew for certain was one minute he wanted to throttle her and the next he wanted to get her naked and writhing beneath him. He’d never met anyone like Charlie before—strong but vulnerable. Impulsive, but considerate.
Her interest in the carnival had been palpable, filling the space in the car with enthusiasm that reminded him of his first time to a fair. But the eye-rolling was what had done it. Rather than find the expression irritating, he found himself turned on by her sass, and suddenly stopping to prove he had a fun side, too, was all he wanted to do.
He glanced down at their hands. No one else’s grip had ever felt this good. The squeeze he’d given her fingers had been an involuntary reaction. When they touched, he forgot about everything else but being in the moment.
“Hurry!” she said, tugging him along faster. “I think we can catch the next ride.”
He kept up with her, wondering if her excitement for the ride or his worry about time motivated her quick pace. Probably the former.
They were the last couple loaded onto the ride. “You ready for this?” he asked.
“So ready.” She bumped his knee with hers and scooted a little closer. Her comfort with him made his pulse race. The little touches were spontaneous, tiny gifts that whet his appetite for more.
The wheel kicked into gear, lifting them up, up and away. Charlie squirmed a little, giggled, and smiled so broadly no doubt the people on the ground could see it.
“This is awesome,” she said when they reached the highest point.
Sitting beside her, it was awesome. The sun shined in a bright blue sky, a warm breeze ruffled her blond hair, and she smelled like a botanical garden.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Think the ticket guy will let us stay on for a second ride?”
The wheel rounded the bottom, their passenger car swinging slightly on the rise. “I’ll see that he does.” He couldn’t explain why he’d grown more at ease with her, too, but he thought it had something to do with the penny she’d given him yesterday. That one small act of kindness and he knew she was the kind of girl a guy made promises to. The kind of girl a guy lost bets for.
She smiled and he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her full lips, pert nose, and slightly rounded cheeks. “Thanks,” she said, sparing him a quick glance before returning to take in the scenery.
They made another rotation. And another. Just about to the top of the next revolution, the ride jerked and the wheel abruptly stopped, leaving them in the twelve-o’clock position.
Charlie grabbed the edge of her seat but didn’t say anything.
“This happens sometimes,” he said to calm any fears she might have about being stuck. “Especially with rides like this that travel to different locations. It’ll start up again in a minute.”
“I’m not worried.” She looked sideways at him, but a little over his head so their eyes didn’t meet, and the most adorable smile lifted the corners of her mouth. The grin spilled out playful and secretive.
“Did you know the world’s tallest Ferris wheel is in Las Vegas?” she asked. “At five hundred and fifty feet, it’s nine feet taller than the second tallest wheel. That one is in Singapore. The very first Ferris wheel was something like two hundred and sixty feet tall, so more than half the size of those. It was built in the late 1800s in Chicago.”
Did Goldilocks ever stop talking? “I knew about the one in Vegas. So you’re an expert on Ferris wheels? Did you do a piece on them?”
“No. I just happened to hear a segment on national public radio and useless knowledge tends to stick in my head.”
“And useful knowledge?”
Finally her gaze settled on him. “Funny.”
“Hang tight a few more minutes everyone,” the ride operator shouted. “We apologize for the delay.”
“This must be killing you,” she said. “Wasting time up here.”
Oddly, he didn’t mind at all. “It’s not too bad.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I get the feeling you’re not too happy about it.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She looked away.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up.”
“Liar.”
That got her attention. Her pulse leaped at the base of her neck. She wore a sleeveless light green blouse today and all of a sudden he wanted to put his mouth on her shoulder. Work his way up the smooth column of her neck to her earlobe, her cheek, her lips.
She twisted to face him better. “You really want to know what I’m thinking?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve always…” She sucked in a breath when he kept his eyes on her midnight blues. “I’ve always had this fantasy of being at the top of a Ferris wheel with a gorgeous guy and having him kiss me.”
“Really? That’s your fantasy?”
“One of them.” She narrowed her eyes, but it didn’t diminish their light.
“And I fit the bill?” he said, unable to stop himself from moving his stare to her mouth. Christ, he wasn’t expecting her to say any of that, but now that she had, he had the urge to fulfill all her fantasies.
“You asked.” She shrugged and started to turn away.
He caught her jaw and tilted it up to his. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
Long, dark eyelashes reached the arch of her brows. “We shouldn’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She squirmed, her breath caught. “Yes,” she whispered.
There were a lot of reasons whey they shouldn’t, but not one of them registered more important than fulfilling her fantasy.
“Good.” He brushed his lips softly over hers, thinking he’d keep it light, quick, PG-rated. But the second he tasted her, the rules changed. Because she put a hand on his chest, moved closer, and kissed him back.
Her mouth crushed his, hard and hot. Hellish good sensations blazed trails up his arms, over his shoulders, down his sides, and lower.
He slid his hand up her back, then down, until it rested at the base of her spine. She tasted like coffee and mint and if she let him, he’d kiss her till Sunday.
In only two days, Goldilocks had gotten to him. Captured something he didn’t think was up for grabs for longer than a night—his attention. And his admiration.
He slowed the kiss so it became more about learning and savoring instead of fast and furious. She moved her hand up his chest, snaked it around his neck, and ran her fingers through his hair. She let out a moan and Jesus, combined with her supple lips, he answered with some deep, guttural sound he’d never made before.
Chemistry.
They’d had it since the second he caught her bikini top.
And while he’d been trying to convince himself he preferred silence to her runaway mouth, she could talk all she wanted if it meant an uninhibited response like this when they kissed.
“Mmm,” she murmured against his mouth as she brought her other arm up and around his neck. The move lifted her shirt and exposed her warm, soft skin to his palm. He splayed his fingers around her waist.
His other hand cupped the back of her head, and he touched her lower lip with his tongue. Her mouth opened in response and that’s all it took for him to deepen the kiss. To give with mindless strokes and sweet invasion. Intense desire wove through him, marked him. Goldilocks knew how to kiss.
She pressed closer, the tips of her breasts brushing against the thin material of his shirt. His cock grew even harder. If they weren’t five hundred and fifty feet up in the air inside a two-by-four box he would’ve had her naked by now. Moved his mouth down her body and let his tongue delve between her legs. He wanted to taste every inch of her. See how loud his name could be shouted.
A ragged sigh met his ears—hers? His? With their mouths fused together it was hard to tell whose rush of breath was whose.
Without warning, the Ferris wheel jolted back into service. Charlie pulled away. Her long lashes swept down and then up. She locked her electric-blue gaze on his and something in the atmosphere shifted. His heart thudded heavily and more than the all-consuming lust heating his blood was the urgent desire to make Goldilocks happy. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him to let her spend as much time as she wanted at the carnival.
“Not bad, Mr. Gibson,” she said, scooting back.
His Million Dollar Risk Page 4