Just Dare Me.... Stephanie BondЧитать онлайн книгу.
handing over McGee, who squirmed in Tori’s unfamiliar arms. “I have to do this to get the CEG account.”
“I don’t know why that stupid account is so important to you.”
Detecting a note of abandonment in her friend’s voice, she laid a hand on her arm. “Tori, you were the one who pointed out the inequity of the account assignments. I’m only fighting for what I deserve.”
But instead of cheering up, Tori only looked more morose. “I’ve seen documentaries on these wilderness survival trips—they lure you in with romantic notions of sitting around the campfire, and the next thing you know, you’re running for your life, being hunted by some guy with a crossbow.”
Gabrielle squinted. “You watch way too much television. And I assure you, there were no romantic promises. I’m expecting the worst—eating bugs, dangling from cliffs—”
“Sharing a tent with Dell Kingston.”
Gabrielle blinked. “What? Now who’s lost their mind?”
“That’s what everyone in the office is saying,” Tori said, her voice tinged with a gossipy tone. “That Dell is going to get the CEG account and get into your pants.”
Anger flared in her chest. “Well, they’re wrong, and you can tell them so.”
“Just be careful,” Tori said earnestly. “I know how you feel about Dell—”
“I don’t—”
“I know how you feel about Dell, and I just don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret.”
Gabrielle inhaled a calming breath, trying not to let her friend’s comments make her any more nervous about the long drive into the mountains with Dell that stretched ahead of her. She’d never missed having a car before today. She closed her eyes against the image of his dancing brown eyes. Come on, Gabby. I dare you.
“Trust me,” she said forcefully, for her benefit and for Tori’s, “Dell Kingston has nothing on his mind for this weekend except scoring higher than me on the competition.”
“I’d say you’re right about one thing,” Tori said dryly. “His mind is on scoring, all right.”
Gabrielle massaged her temples—this she did not need. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking care of McGee?”
“We’ll be fine until you get back. Hey, have you ever noticed that McGee looks a little like Mr. Noble?”
“You think?” Gabrielle said, backing down the stairs and shoving on her sunglasses. “I’ll call you if my cell phone works in the mountains.”
“Good luck,” Tori yelled. “Get Nick Ocean’s autograph for me. And keep your tent flap closed!”
DELL CHECKED his watch, then glanced at the front of the Marta station for the hundredth time. Had he missed her? Considering the color of her hair, he didn’t think that was possible.
And considering her flair for misadventure, she might be lying at the bottom of a set of stairs somewhere, or hanging from a flag pole. The pale slip of a woman would be lucky to make it through the weekend without breaking her lovely neck. Still, he shook his head, smiling at Bruce’s genius. The man couldn’t flat-out deny Gabby’s request for the account without Human Resources climbing all over him. A competition was the perfect way to give Dell the account without making it look so obvious.
And Gabby had nearly conceded on the spot—he’d seen it in her eyes. He still wasn’t sure what had driven him to dare her to accept the challenge. Something about the woman had always piqued his interest, even before her transformation. Gabby had this air of aloof independence that made him want to rankle her. Her pluckiness intrigued him. He could have walked out of Bruce’s office with CEG in his pocket. But this way, he told himself, she’d feel as if she’d given it her best shot, and would be more willing to assist on the account. And it would give her a chance to warm up to him.
There was only one problem—
A flash of red caught his attention and sure enough, it was Gabby, dressed in loose cargo pants and a white T-shirt, her blazing hair pulled back into a long, thick ponytail. She struggled to stand upright with the large backpack strapped to her slender body. God, she looked so young and vulnerable and…sexy.
The problem that had been gnawing at him all week hit him full force, causing him to shift in his seat. Little Gabby Flannery had always been a curiosity to him, but over the past few days in the office, every glimpse of her in her new slim suits and short skirts, with her hair flowing wild around her shoulders, had him setting his jaw against an unexpected surge of lust.
How he was going to keep his hands to himself during four days of close contact with her in the great outdoors while trying to make sure she didn’t kill herself, he didn’t know.
He climbed out of his SUV and waved. She smiled and lifted her hand, but the movement threw her off balance and sent her stumbling backward to sit down hard on the sidewalk.
He rolled his eyes and hurried across the street to help her. “Are you okay?”
She looked up and nodded, fumbling with the straps of the backpack across her chest.
“Let me,” he said, then unfastened the straps, willing himself to ignore the incidental contact with her full breasts.
This was not a promising start.
When she was free, he helped her to her feet and picked up her pack, wincing at its weight. “Christ, do you have a body in here?”
“No,” she murmured. “Just trying to cover all the bases.”
“Let me guess—high heels and makeup?”
She frowned. “No.”
He winked, then headed toward his SUV. “You’re late, we need to get on the road.”
“Sorry. I had to drop my dog off at Tori’s, and the trains were delayed.”
“Do you have one of those Tinkerbell dogs?”
She gave a little laugh that he liked the sound of. “McGee is a bulldog, and I don’t think he’d take kindly to being called a Tinkerbell.”
“Nice name,” he said grudgingly, surprised that she would own such a substantial canine. He’d always wanted a dog himself, but his hectic travel schedule had always prevented him from owning one…at least that was his excuse, he acknowledged wryly.
He loaded her backpack into the rear of his vehicle, next to his own pack, which was half the size and weight. He’d been camping and hiking enough to know that most people packed too much gear. “So your friend, Tori…she’s a little gloomy.”
“She doesn’t like you, either,” Gabrielle said, climbing into the passenger seat and closing the door with a bang.
He frowned, then swung up into his own seat. “I didn’t say I didn’t like her.”
“It’s okay,” Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. “We’re used to it.”
“Used to what?”
“Used to being ignored by the senior account execs.”
He sputtered. “We don’t ignore the junior account managers.”
“Really? What’s the name of the guy who sits in the cube next to mine?”
“The new guy?”
“He’s worked there for five years.”
“Oh…right.” Dell tried to conjure up the man’s face in his mind. “Mike something?”
“Close—Oscar. Oscar White. Nice guys with two kids, puts in about seventy hours a week at the office.”
“Oh. Well, I guess our paths haven’t