A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) (7 page)

Exhausted by the long, hot day and upset by the scene with Abdul, she’d turned in early. Knowing his restlessness would keep her awake, Buck had stayed up, prowling the camp and waiting for his nerves to calm. At last he’d settled in a chair, resolving to stay until he could get to sleep without disturbing Terri.

His head had begun to droop when he was startled by a faint but unmistakable sound—the opening of a metal tent zipper. Peering toward the tents, he could make out a moving figure. It was too tall to be Terri and it didn’t appear to be Eli or George. It had to be one of the sheikhs.

As Buck watched, the man hesitated, then turned and walked straight toward him.

“Good evening.” It was Omar, the quietest of the four. Compared to the others, he seemed almost shy, perhaps because he spoke halting, schoolbook English.

“Good evening to you, Omar.” Buck rose and greeted him politely. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Please sit,” Omar said. “I was hoping for this chance to speak to you alone.”

Buck sat down again and waited for Omar to pull up a nearby camp stool. “What is it?” he asked, bracing for more complaints. “Is something wrong?”

Omar leaned closer, his voice dropping. “I want to apologize for my friend Abdul. The man is like a brother to me. But I am not proud of how he has treated you, your staff or your woman. We are guests in your country. Guests do not behave this way. I might have corrected my friend, but that would have offended him. For that, too, I must apologize.”

Buck thought back over the past three days. He could dismiss the complaining. But Abdul’s behavior toward Terri was unconscionable.

“Maybe you should apologize to Miss Hammond,” he said. “She was forced to come on this trip when one of the men couldn’t make it. She’s done a fine job, but if I’d known how your friend was going to treat her, I would never have brought her along.”

“I am truly sorry for that. But I fear that an apology to her face might be awkward, both for her and for me. Perhaps, since she is your woman, you could apologize for us.”

“I will give her your apology,” Buck said. “But she’s not really my woman. She’s my employee and my friend—and very much her own woman.”

“But you share a tent.”

“Only because we have to. Believe me, there’s nothing going on in there but sleep.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Omar’s mouth. “In that case, you must be a very foolish man. A woman like that—so beautiful, so strong, with so much spirit—how could you not give her the attention and appreciation she deserves?”

“That—” Buck sighed as he rose to his feet “—is a very long story.”

“Too long for the late hour, perhaps.” Omar rose with him and extended his hand. “I will bid you good-night.”

Buck accepted the man’s handshake and watched as he made his way back to his tent and ducked inside. Yawning now, he shook his head. He had a lot to learn about people and their natures. But right now, if he didn’t get some sleep, he’d be dead on his feet tomorrow.

He was debating whether he should give Terri more time when a lightning bolt cracked across the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap. The clouds split open, pouring a deluge of rain down into the canyon.

CHAPTER SIX

B
uck’s first impulse was to rush to the shelter of the tent. But the rafts were loosely tethered on the riverbank, just above the waterline. The camp was safe on high ground, but if the rain caused the river to rise, the rafts could be swept away, leaving the group stranded here.

His crew recognized the danger. George and Eli burst out of their tent and joined Buck in the wild race to the river. Terri, appearing out of nowhere, was right behind them, running barefoot through the storm.

Leaping and sliding down the muddy slope to the bank, they reached the rafts and grabbed the ropes, George and Eli on the gear raft, Buck and Terri on the client raft. The river was already rising from flash floods upstream. Muddy water swirled around their ankles, the current tugging at the rafts. Minutes later, it might have been too late.

Bracing and pulling with all their strength, they managed to drag the rafts to safety and secure the lines around the heavy boulders that littered the upper bank. It hadn’t taken long. But by the time it was done, all four were drenched and exhausted.

The rain had slowed to a misty drizzle. As George and Eli headed back to their tent, Buck gave Terri his hand to help her up the slippery bank. She was soaked to the skin. Her khakis clung to her body, cold-puckered nipples showing through her shirt. Her hair framed her face in dripping strings. The night air was warm, but the river water had been frigid. She was so cold her teeth were chattering.

“Come on, let’s get you warm.” Buck circled her with an arm, feeling her body shiver against him. “You didn’t need to come out here in the storm, Terri. I could’ve managed the rafts with the boys.”

“Could you?” She fell into step beside him. “What if you couldn’t? We might’ve lost a raft and everything in it. I was doing my job, just as Arnie would’ve done if he’d been here.” She was silent for a moment, limping a little as they moved toward the tent. “What was Arnie’s problem, anyway? You never told me why I had to take his place. You just said he couldn’t make it.”

The guilt that stabbed Buck’s conscience was too sharp to ignore. He’d told Terri enough lies. She deserved the truth—about this, at least.

“I have a confession to make,” he said. “I switched Arnie’s schedule because I wanted
you
on this trip. You’d just told me you were quitting. I wanted some time with you before you left, away from the chaos of the office—I was hoping I could change your mind.”

She’d stiffened against him, still shivering. “You know I don’t like being manipulated, Buck.”

“I know. But I really wanted you to have a good time.”

“You could’ve just asked me.”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Probably not. I’ve worried the whole three days about what I left behind.” She stumbled against him, wincing.

“What’s wrong? Did you hurt your foot?”

“It’s just a sticker. I can get it out.”

They’d reached the tent. He raised the flap for her to duck inside, then followed her. “Sit,” he said, reaching for his flashlight and switching it on. “I’ll have a look at that foot.”

Terri didn’t argue. Still dripping, she lowered herself to the space on the floor of the tent. Buck wiped the mud off her feet with a towel from his bag. It was easy to find the cactus spine that was stuck in the ball of her foot, but it was in deep. She gave a little yelp as he pulled it out.

“Are you okay?” He sponged away a drop of blood, then salved the spot with the antibiotic cream he kept in his kit.

She nodded. “Just cold.”

“You can’t sleep in those wet clothes. You’ll need to hang them up to dry.”

“I know. You, too.” She hesitated. Her show of modesty was ludicrous, since he remembered the sight of her, half-naked and straddling his hips. But they both seemed to have decided not to mention that.

“Here.” He switched off the flashlight, leaving the tent in darkness. “For privacy, that’s the best I can do. You first. I’ll give you some space.”

He moved back into a corner of the tent, crouching in the cramped space as he listened to the small sounds of Terri getting undressed—the slide of a zipper, the rustle of bunching fabric, the little grunt of effort as she peeled her wet pants over her hips. The mental picture was enough to bring him to full arousal. He battled the urge to seize her in his arms for a repeat performance of that morning in his room. This wasn’t the time or place. The tent was too small, its walls too thin and it was too close to neighbors. If he made love to Terri again—and the need to make that happen was driving him crazy—he wanted to do it right.

She draped her clothes on the tent frame, then snuggled down into her sleeping bag. “All clear,” she said.

Buck felt chilled, too. He stripped off his clothes, hung them up and crawled into bed. They lay side by side, zipped into their sleeping bags, both of them still too charged with adrenaline to sleep. Realizing she was awake, Buck decided to take a chance.

“Should I apologize for this trip?” he asked. “I had good intentions, but I know it’s been rough on you.”

She rolled over to face him in the darkness. “There’s no need to apologize for the trip. I enjoyed the good parts and survived the bad. What I’m unhappy about is that you lied to get me here.”

“I know. But I was desperate to bring you. Since I knew you wouldn’t come willingly, it was either tell a fib or tie you up and throw you on the raft.”

“No comment.”

Waiting for Terri to say more, Buck studied the faint outline of her face in the darkness. He remembered watching her today on the river, as the breeze fluttered a strand of chestnut hair across her sun-freckled face. Even after a third day of roughing it on the river, she was beautiful—not like the pampered women he usually dated, but strong and graceful like a wild mare or a soaring hawk. He’d always thought she was pretty. But not until this topsy-turvy week had he realized how magnificent she was.

Was it too late to stop himself from falling in love with her?

For years, he’d told himself that Terri was off-limits as anything but a friend. She was Steve’s sister, and he’d promised to care for her like family. But she’d broken out of that box, and he could no longer deny the power of his growing feelings for her.

Don’t go, Terri. Stay here. Give us a chance to see what might happen.

Buck knew better than to say the words. Terri deserved a better life than she’d found in Porter Hollow as his right-hand woman. If she wanted to go and find it, who was he to stop her—especially since she’d already made up her mind to leave?

She’d fallen silent. “Are you getting sleepy?” he asked.

“A little. But I’m still cold.” Her teeth chattered faintly as she spoke.

“Come here.” Impulsively, he grabbed a fistful of her sleeping bag and pulled her against him. Terri didn’t resist. Wrapped chastely in a cocoon of nylon and synthetic down, she nestled her rump into the curve of his body and let him wrap his arms around her. Within minutes her breathing told Buck she’d drifted off to sleep.

As he lay with his arm across her shoulders, the tingle of awareness became an ache, deepening the urge to move above her and taste those soft lips. He imagined unzipping her sleeping bag, cradling a satiny breast in his palm and stroking her nipple until she moaned.

But as long as he was fantasizing, why stop there? He could imagine being someplace else, someplace private, clean and warm where he could scoop her up in his arms and carry her to bed, where they could relive their single bedroom encounter over and over till they were both deliciously sated.

Was Terri having similar dreams? She’d climbed into his bed once. Surely she wouldn’t be averse to doing it a second time, and more…

Buck’s thoughts had triggered his arousal again. Imagining an ice-cold shower, he brought himself under a measure of control. Tomorrow they’d be back in their familiar world, slipping into their roles as boss and employee as they counted the days till her departure. The more he thought about it, the less he looked forward to it.

How could he let her walk away without taking one last chance?

By the time they reached the South Rim tomorrow they’d be sore, hungry, tired—and within a few minutes’ walk of a comfortable lodge with a good restaurant. They’d both be ready for showers, a good meal and a night’s rest before driving back to Porter Hollow in the company vehicle that waited for them. The possibilities were…intriguing, to say the least.

Holding that thought and cradling Terri close, Buck drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Phantom Ranch, at the bottom of the Grand Canyon’s inner gorge, was a cluster of picturesque stone cabins and a small lodge with beds that could be reserved by hikers, river runners and mule riders for a night’s rest. Here Terri, Buck and the four sheikhs gathered their personal gear and left the raft to be towed downriver by George and Eli.

Terri stood on the riverbank, watching the two rafts disappear around the bend. She would ask to make sure the clients had tipped the hard-working camp boys. If not, she would suggest to Buck that he pay them a generous bonus. They’d earned it on this trip.

By the time the group had taken advantage of the restroom and enjoyed snacks at the cantina, the mule train had arrived to take them up the winding trail to the rim. Terri had hiked that trail—a grueling eight-hour climb—several times in the past. Today she was grateful for the mule ride, which would cut the time by nearly half. She was hot, filthy and anxious to get back to her normal routine.

They mounted up and headed out at a plodding, swaying walk. There were seven big brown mules including one for the driver, who took the lead. Buck brought up the rear with Terri in front of him, and the sheikhs were strung out between. Riding single file on the narrow trail, there wouldn’t be much chance to talk, which was fine. She needed some quiet time to regroup for whatever awaited her back in Porter Hollow.

She was sharply aware of Buck riding behind her, but she was too emotionally raw to turn and give him a look or a word. Last night in the canyon, he’d been so kind and protective that she’d almost believed he could care for her. But back in the real world, she knew Buck was bound to become as demanding and insensitive as ever.

The person she’d been a week ago would have patiently followed Buck’s orders and accepted being taken for granted as her due. But now she knew she didn’t have to be a doormat for any man—not even the high-and-mighty Buck Morgan.

The air in the deep gorge was like a sauna. By the end of the first hour, Terri was dripping. She swigged from the furnished canteen to stay hydrated. At least the higher portion of the trail would be cooler. But looking up from here, the next three hours up a steep, winding trail couldn’t be over soon enough.

By the time the mule train wound its way onto the rim of the canyon, the sun was low, the air fresh and pleasant. While Buck tipped the mule driver, the four sheikhs, muddied, bone-weary and sore, climbed off their mounts and staggered toward the limousine that waited to take them to the lodge.

Terri stood with Buck at the trailhead and watched the limo drive away. “At last,” Buck muttered.

“Amen,” Terri echoed. “By the way, I forgot to ask. What’s our plan for getting home?”

“The SUV that Kirby drove here with the sheikhs’ luggage should be waiting for us behind the lodge. Since Kirby will be going as steward on the jet tomorrow, you and I will be driving the vehicle back. Are you hungry? We could have dinner before we leave, or even check in, clean up and get a good night’s sleep. How does that sound to you?”

Tempting
, Terri thought. She knew what would likely happen if they stayed the night. The question was, did she want another no-strings-attached romp with Buck? One that, like the last time, would lead nowhere and mean nothing?

“Let me think about that while I run to the rest-room,” she said. “Maybe you should call and let somebody know we’re here.”

“Fine.” Buck whipped out his cell phone. “It’s almost five. With luck there’ll still be somebody in the office. If not, at least I can pick up any messages on my landline.”

“You might want to call your house, too. Quinn will want to know you’re on your way back.”

She left him and strode off to the nearby stone building that housed the restrooms. Before leaving, she took time to splash the dusty sweat residue from her face, neck and arms and slick back her hair. She looked like forty miles of bad road—or bad river. She didn’t have a change of clothes, or even a credit card to buy something clean in the gift shop or one of the tourist boutiques. Maybe she and Buck could order room service if she agreed to stay the night.

If she agreed to stay the night?
Was she really considering it? What about her pride?

Still uncertain, she walked outside to find Buck waiting for her. The look on his face stopped her in her tracks. Her pulse lurched. Something was wrong.

“What is it?” she asked. “Did you reach anybody at the office? Is everything all right?”

“I spoke with Bob. Everything at the office is fine.”

“Did you call Quinn?”

“I called the house. Nobody answered so I left a message.” He drew a sharp breath. “Terri—”

In the silence that hung between them, she felt cold dread crawling up her spine. “Tell me,” she said.

“It’s your grandmother. She passed away two days ago.”

* * *

Buck watched the color fade from Terri’s face. She’d loved her grandmother. The loss would cut her deeply. But even more painful, and more lasting, would be the regret that she hadn’t been there to comfort the old woman in her final moments—and say goodbye.

For that, Buck had nobody to blame but himself.

She hadn’t spoken a word. She didn’t have to. Her anguished expression said it all. No thanks to him, she’d wasted three days on the river and, in a time of dire need, failed her beloved grandma, the woman who’d been like a mother to her.

“I’m sorry, Terri.” The words fell pathetically short of what he wanted to say.

“I need to get home now. Let’s go.” Turning away from him, she strode off in the direction of where their vehicle would be waiting. Her spine was rigid, her shoulders painfully square.