Her Bad, Bad Boss Page 6

  He needed to cut her some slack.

  As his gaze drifted to the spectacular glacier shimmering in the distance he crossed to the window, braced his hands against the glass.

  He needed to chill out and nothing centred him more than a visit to his favourite place on earth.

  The east wing charmed Jade the moment she stepped through the door. If the outside of the house held her enthralled, the inside far surpassed her wildest dreams.

  The wing was the size of an average suburban house, a huge open-plan room consisting of leather lounge suite with recliner chairs, a flat-screen TV the size of a bed sheet, state-of-the-art sound system and a sleigh bed that could fit a family of Santa’s elves quite comfortably.

  Throw in the honey-coloured floorboards and matching beams soaring overhead, the squishy rugs underfoot, the kitchenette and monster bathroom, and she could happily live here for the next six months.

  But by far the most attractive feature of the room was the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a breathtaking vista. Towering snow-capped mountains, lush green forests and an incredible ice glacier that sparkled a pristine blue in the pale sunlight.

  Crossing to the glass, she reached out, touched it, imagined touching the ice. A shiver of excitement shot through her. Being here felt good. And she hadn’t felt good in a long time.

  She didn’t go in for spiritual stuff, but the moment she’d set foot on Glacier Point she’d been buzzing with the rightness of all this.

  Her hand slipped down the glass, her fingertips the last lingering contact before she shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for fanciful ideas. She had enough to do, starting with the many challenges of a new job and ending with keeping her hands off her new boss.

  The glacier snagged her attention again and she couldn’t look away. On the JetCat Rhys had told them they could have the morning off to settle in. Glancing across at her backpack, she wrinkled her nose. Plenty of time to unpack. Right now, she’d rather get out there and explore. Besides, a good dose of bracing fresh air might prepare her for the afternoon’s orientation with the boss.

  When they’d arrived at the house she’d sensed his tenseness, had heard the brittle undertone in his voice. Being back here affected him more than he let on and an uptight boss did not make for a stress-free introduction to working life.

  Yep, she definitely had to calm herself before this afternoon and what better way than a few hours with her first up close and personal experience of a glacier?

  Jade followed a worn, muddy path through the forest, stepping over rocks and exposed tree roots. Despite taking care she stumbled several times, the slippery surface underfoot as disconcerting as the thought of starting her new job.

  She’d been running on adrenalin until now, muscling her way into that pre-screening back in Sydney, organising the logistics to make the interview in Vancouver, arriving determined to nail the job, feigning confidence since she’d learned the boss himself would be on this tour.

  Now she’d actually arrived, the reality of her situation hit home.

  She had absolutely zero experience in leading luxury wilderness tours, no customer service skills and a limited knowledge of the local area despite swotting up on every book and Internet site she could find.

  Rhys expected the best. He’d said so during the interview. The interview she’d swanned through with loads of fake bravado and little hands-on experience.

  She might desperately need this job to facilitate her entry into university, but now she’d arrived, completely overwhelmed by the beauty and vastness of the place, the reality of what she was letting herself in for hit home.

  She needed to be the best darn tour guide Wild Thing had ever employed. Failure wasn’t an option.

  No pressure on you, then.

  Wincing, she rounded a trailhead and entered a small clearing, gasping at the breathtaking glimpse of her first glacier up close.

  Wow.

  If seeing the glacier from the house had made an impact it was nothing compared to standing on a pebbled foreshore, wishing she could reach out and touch the sheer icy face.

  She couldn’t breathe; like the first time she’d laid eyes on her boss, actually.

  As if her thoughts conjured him up, he stepped into view from behind a clump of trees and her lungs constricted, protesting the lack of oxygen as she observed him unnoticed.

  Standing on a rocky outcrop surveying the scenery, he looked at one with nature. His profile, with those high-slashed cheekbones and cut-glass jaw, reminded her of the glacier’s sharp angles: as impressive, as rugged, as beautiful.

  Even from a distance she could sense his tension, his posture abnormally straight, his shoulders rigid. Definitely her cue to leave.

  Easing backwards, she stepped on a twig, shattering the silence: His head snapped towards her in an instant, his expression shuttered.

  She pasted a smile on her face while inwardly cursing her klutziness as he strode towards her, long legs encased in denim, legs used to going places and getting there damn fast.

  ‘What do you think of my favourite spot?’

  She stared at the majestic icy peak, the sun reflecting off its shimmering surface, sending shards of cool gentian into the horizon, opening her mouth to find the right words and failing, eventually settling for, ‘It’s unbelievable.’

  His face relaxed into a smile. ‘I had the same reaction first time I saw Davidson Glacier.’

  They stood in silence, looking at the glacier, while she snuck glances at him, relieved he’d lost the brooding expression.

  When he’d first spotted her, she’d half expected him to be angry at her for intruding on his turf, but thankfully he’d relaxed enough to tolerate her being here.

  ‘Exploring?’

  She nodded, all too aware of their seclusion now he stood a foot away. When she’d been alone, the magic of this place had amplified. But with him in her personal space—as big and daunting as the ancient pines surrounding them—the vastness had shrunk, leaving the two of them too close.

  ‘Yeah, I saw the glacier from my window, was keen to take a closer look.’

  ‘How close do you want to get?’

  She swallowed, sure there was nothing remotely suggestive about his question, but her errant mind focused on that stupid almost-kiss again, reading too much into every little nuance, every little word.

  ‘Uh—’

  ‘See those canoes down there? They’re not just for show.’

  She blushed, tried to cover her embarrassment with pep. ‘Lead the way, Ranger.’

  He hadn’t called her on the nickname and she wondered if he was as afraid of broaching it as she was. Nicknames implied intimacy, friendship, two things she should shy away from with him.

  ‘Come on.’

  They continued down the trail for another half mile before reaching the lake, where a huge canoe lay beached on the rocky sand.

  ‘Your chariot, Princess?’

  He picked up an oar and held it out to her like a prized glass slipper. Not that she believed in that particular fairy tale. She knew all too well how fast princes could turn into frogs.

  ‘What’s with the Princess tag?’

  ‘A term of endearment.’ He grinned, a carefree smile that held tones of the cheeky boy he must’ve once been. ‘Along the lines of Ranger.’

  She grinned right back at him, the two of them caught up in a moment too special to explain, too fragile to last as she wondered if it was too late to bolt into the forest and not look back.

  Reluctant to break the spell but needing to before she said or did something silly, she jerked a thumb at the canoe. ‘We use these on the tours?’

  ‘Yeah, these babies allow the tourists to get as close to the glacier as possible.’ He held out a hand to her. ‘Hop aboard.’

  Grateful for the helping hand, she clambered over the side and adjusted to the gentle rocking, hoping she didn’t end up face-planting in the water.

  ‘S
coot over, I’ll sit next to you.’

  She glanced around in surprise; there were enough vacant seats in the boat for another six people.

  ‘To maintain the balance.’

  His lips quirked in a naughty smile, the devilish glint in his eyes the same spectacular ice-blue as the glacier in front of him, alerting her to the fact his reasons for sitting next to her were far from practical.

  As he settled next to her on the thin wooden plank, she tried to ignore the rub of his hard thigh against her own. Slivers of desire pierced her veins, sharp, bordering on painful, rendering her powerless against this guy and how he made her feel.

  She took a calming breath, only to be swamped by his tantalising outdoorsy aftershave again, the one that short-circuited every self-preservation mechanism.

  ‘We’ll use the motor engine. Unless you feel like rowing?’

  She shook her head as he shrugged out of his parka and laid it on the seat behind him, the simple action pulling his jumper tight across his chest, emphasising its breadth, its width, tempting her to touch…

  As the engine roared to life and the canoe shot across the lake her fingers dug into the wooden seat. Grateful to have something else to focus on other than the tsunami of desire threatening to swamp and overturn every good intention she’d ever had of keeping him at bay, she focused on the breathtaking scenery, savouring the bracing frigid air slapping her cheeks.

  He cut the engine as they neared the glacier face and the canoe drifted, allowing her to absorb the significance of what she saw in silence, the occasional bump of an ice chunk against the hull the only sound to disrupt the quiet.

  She marvelled at the intense indigo of the ice as it contrasted with the polished granite walls and could hardly believe the size of the awesome ice as it tumbled from its mountainous height to the lake below. A cold wind suddenly sprung up, settling over her like a damp cloak.

  Rhys noticed her shiver, picked up his parka and draped it across her shoulders. ‘Better?’

  Rather than stopping, her shudders intensified, though not from the cold. Being snuggled into his warm parka, his seductive scent imbedded into it, she wanted to snuggle in and never come up for air.

  Then she made the mistake of glancing up while he was adjusting the parka, reaching across the front of her to pull the collar tight and secure it, his warm breath fanning her cheek, his lips inches away.

  Her eyelids slammed shut as she concentrated on cold things in an effort to counteract the heat generated by his nearness: Think freezers, think Arctic winters, think snowstorms.

  It didn’t help.

  With a resigned sigh, she opened her eyes, looked into his and did a spontaneous, crazy thing she knew she’d live to regret.

  She kissed him.

  Took the decision out of his hands by locking her arms around his neck, tipping her chin up, brushing her lips across his in the hope she’d send any last fleeting resistance straight to the bottom of the lake.

  A soft sigh fell from her lips, seemed to galvanise him into action. His mouth devoured her, demanding a submission she was more than willing to give. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue full access to her craving mouth. Their tongues met in a sinuous dance, winding around each other in an endless quest for pleasure.

  ‘This isn’t a good idea,’ he muttered, easing back a fraction.

  ‘Says who?’

  She kissed him again, not giving him time to protest further. This was wrong, so wrong; then why did it feel like the best thing that had happened to her in a long time?

  She’d yearned for his kiss since last night, yet the reality far surpassed expectation. He kissed how he looked; like a dream, and she never wanted to wake up.

  She held his head, her fingers splayed through his hair, pulling him closer. The silky strands teased her fingertips and she wanted to feel the rest of him. Hell, she wanted to run her hands over every last inch of him and come back for more.

  With a reluctant groan he slipped his arms around her, his touch heating her better than any fire could. She leaned into him, fused to his body as she melded against him. Her body burned, her passion igniting with the skilled touch of his lips, his hands. She was a bonfire just waiting to happen. Just her luck he’d lit the match.

  She’d never found her breasts particularly erogenous, though they ached for his touch, her erect nipples rubbing against the lacy confines of her bra. As if reading her mind, he slipped a hand under her jumper.

  ‘That’s so good,’ she whispered against the side of his mouth, the soft, breathy sound at one with the serenity surrounding them in a sensual cocoon.

  He growled, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the silence as his lips blazed a trail of hot, moist kisses from her ear to the hollow of her throat, as his hand cupped her breast and started to massage. Her world almost exploded as his thumb brushed across a sensitised nipple, the nub aching for his touch. As she edged closer to him, her newly awakened breasts craving his mouth with every passing second, the canoe started to rock wildly.

  He pulled away and stared at her, wide-eyed, stunned, his dazed expression reflecting hers.

  ‘A cold shower mightn’t be a bad idea right about now, but a dunk in this icy water’s probably taking things too far?’

  ‘Agreed.’

  She had no idea how long they stared at each other, their ragged breathing the only sound before he turned away on the pretext of fiddling with the engine.

  How did he do that—just turn off? She was still seeing stars.

  She scuttled across the seat away from him, adjusting her jumper self-consciously and wishing she could think of something funny to say as he restarted the engine. An uncomfortable silence grew, punctuated by the spluttering engine.

  ‘That was a first.’

  Stupidly, she said the first thing that popped into her head and he looked at her as if she’d gone mad, not knowing if she referred to the canoe, the glacier or that scintillating kiss.

  As she tried not to cringe only one thought echoed through her head.

  It’s going to be a long six months.

  Chapter Nine

  JADE winced as she tweezed the last splinter from her hands, flexing her fingers and wishing she hadn’t when the latest blister popped.

  With a self-pitying sigh, she rummaged in the first-aid kit, doused the blister in antiseptic before sticking a Band-Aid across it, another to add to her collection.

  She managed a wry grin as she studied her hands at arm’s length, hands once treated to a French manicure on a weekly basis and now resembling something from a horror film with her split and cracked nails, calloused palms and multi-plastered fingers.

  Not that she minded. These hands were testament to days of hard work, where she’d groomed trails, cleared forest growth and chopped wood.

  While she’d been walking like a saddle-sore cowboy for days, and her muscles continued to protest, the fact she’d tackled every task gave her a sense of satisfaction she’d never imagined.

  It hadn’t been easy, far from it. Working in the wilderness was nothing like the gentle hikes through the Blue Mountains that she’d loved, or exploring ice caves in the Alps.

  She’d always adored the cold and, combined with her love of nature, Alaska was her dream destination. Mentally, she was on the page. Physically, her cosseted body had a lot of catching up, toughening up, to do.

  Snapping the first-aid kit shut, she shoved it into her backpack, checked the next job on her list and frowned.

  Time for some one-on-one time with the boss.

  Her induction week had been manic, giving her little time to ponder the consequences of that mind-blowing kiss when she’d rocked the boat, literally. Thankfully, Cody and Jack had given her most of her training and she’d barely had time to assimilate one piece of information before being bombarded with another.

  The guys were patient, Rhys less so. He had high standards, demanding nothing less than perfection. She could handle it. What she couldn’t handle was
his cool composure bordering on abruptness, as if that make-out session in the canoe never happened and he clearly blamed her for it.

  When they’d talked about their mutual love of nature after the kiss, she’d harboured a hope they could forget it and move on. By his curt manner over the last week, he’d reverted to treating her as an employee, a recalcitrant one at that, rather than someone who understood what it meant for him to be back here.

  Reaching the shed, she dropped her backpack, stretched out her kinked back muscles and donned her chipper professional mask, the one that had made her face ache with the effort over the last week since the ‘kiss that shall not be discussed’.

  He glanced her way with the briefest nod.

  ‘Itinerary clear?’

  His tone clipped, Rhys checked the wet-weather gear for the fifth time that morning.

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded. ‘That’s only the hundredth time you’ve asked me.’

  He lifted his head from the task at hand, his stare imperturbable. ‘No harm in being prepared.’

  ‘You can’t always be prepared for every eventuality.’

  ‘What would you know about it?’

  Keeping her mouth shut would’ve been the smart thing to do, but she’d had a gutful of his unflappable attitude and his annoying ability to act as if nothing had ever happened between them.

  ‘Plenty.’

  She planted her hands firmly on her hips, staring him down, daring him to argue.

  He straightened and she silently cursed for noticing how hot he looked: taupe trousers accentuated his long legs and a green polo shirt with the Wild Thing gold emblem, a bald eagle in flight over the left breast pocket, hugged his broad chest. The uniform did little to detract. If anything, the deep green highlighted his brooding dark looks to perfection.

  ‘So, you think a week out here makes you an expert?’ His eyes narrowed, a dangerous gleam in their indigo depths.

  ‘No, though I think I’ve learned enough to be a competent performer.’