He reached blindly into his bottom drawer in
search of his daily nourishment. Empty cellophane wrappers rattled,
heralding a futile search. Annoyed, Sam frowned and pulled the
carton from the drawer. Emtpy. It figured. Another “Aw, hell,”
emerged from his mouth as he stared at the carton. A blond, blue
eyed pixie with rosy lips stared back at him. No more than eight,
the bright-eyed child on the box wore an impish grin that always
made him smile.
Hi stomach grumbled and the smile
disappeared. “Not even eleven o’clock and it’s already been a
double Aw-hell day,” he said to no one in particular, then tossed
the box into the trash.
Outside his office, Sam heard the telltale
swoosh of the door closing. “Mona, you’re late,” he called
threateningly.
“
Yeah, I know, but I brought
a peace offering,” she returned, not the least bit repentant or
intimidated. A few second later his punctually-challenged,
slower-than-a-sloth secretary shuffled into his office, then hurled
a carton of Honey-Lu’s Fudgy –Nutty cakes at him. “It’s Saturday,
Sam,” she said in an unhurried drawl, which perfectly matched her
equally speedless personality. “Be thankful I’m here.”
Sam grinned and caught the box in midair.
Mona rolled her eyes disgustedly, “Geez,
you’re easy. I had to sleep with my last boss to get a grin like
that. Gimme a minute, “she added, “and I’ll get your coffee. Make
that five minutes. No ten.”
Having grown accustomed to Mona’s slightly
warped brand of humor, Sam ignored her comments. “What have we got
this morning?” he called to her retreating figure.
“
Nothing,” Mona’s
disembodied voice returned. “So why am I here?”
“
Mona,” Sam warned, his
usual response to these verbal skirmishes. He heard her put-upon
sigh and smiled.
“
Simon and I are both on
schedule,” his secretary informed him finally. “Brent had a setback
yesterday due to inclement weather, but plans to complete his
expedition this afternoon.”
Sam nodded, simultaneously digesting the
information and the food. Good. Now if there weren’t any major
setbacks—there are always a few minor ones, no matter how many
precautions were taken—then this week would go off without a
hitch.
As for himself, he didn’t have an adventure
planned until the middle of next week. Ordinarily, he didn’t have a
lengthy break between stunts, but the leaky roof on his mother’s
house simply couldn’t wait any longer. He grimaced. Another spring
shower and her foyer would resemble an ornamental pond.
Mona returned, the promised coffee in hand.
“There’s a limo out front. You didn’t have an appointment
scheduled. Are you expecting someone?”
Sam shook his head and chewed thoughtfully as
Mona left to investigate. A limo. That sounded promising, he
thought, so long as it wasn’t a woman. Sam had nothing against the
fairer sex, per se. However, despite their best intentions, they
usually balked at some point, which often meant he lost half his
profit.
Furthermore, most of the socialites who had
the money to afford the agency’s services seemed to think that his
guides came as part of the deal. Sam employed men who kept
themselves in excellent shape, not just to look good, but because
physical fitness was imperative in this line of work.
As a result, to avoid lawsuits and other
unpleasantness, Sam strictly prohibited any sort of romantic
involvement between his guides and clients. He didn’t advertise
much, but counted mostly on referrals. Hell, one broken-hearted
debutante with a rich daddy could ruin him professionally as well
as financially. He refused to allow the risk—he couldn’t afford
it.
Sam was brushing the cake crumbs off his desk
when Mona returned. “So, who’s here?”
“
One Louisa
Honeycutt.”
Damn. A woman. “Honeycutt,” Sam murmured
thoughtfully. Why did that name ring a bell? Before he could ponder
it any further, Mona announced his impromptu appointment—without
asking him, of course—and ushered the woman into his office.
She didn’t fit the picture in his mind of a
female client who’d arrived in a chauffeur-driven limo. He’d seen
them before. The face and shape changed, but the uniform and
posture rarely did. Sleek, polished, Donna Karan suit, Ferragamo
pumps, an expensive sort of glow.
But this woman was different.
Clouds of curly, honey-colored hair framed a
heart-shaped face that was virtually devoid of makeup and too
charmingly cute to be called beautiful. She had big, baby blue
eyes, glinting with intelligence and something delightfully
mischievous, and long, gold-tipped lashes. A spattering of tawny
freckles dusted her nose, and a little dimple winked beside her
rosy lips. He’d seen that face before…but where?
She reddened under his stare and cleared her
throat. “Good morning, Mr. Rawlins. I appreciate your seeing me on
such short notice.” Her gaze slid to his desk and a hint of a smile
tease her lightly glossed lips. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your
breakfast.”
The sound of her voice snapped Sam to
attention. “No, no. Not at all.” Feeling foolish, he summoned a
smile and extended his hand. Hers was soft and so small that he
gentled his grasp to keep from hurting her.
Feel uncharacteristically disconcerted, Sam
willed himself to focus on business. He cleared his throat. “Ms.
Honeycutt, have a seat.”
“
Call me Lou, please,” she
replied.
Per his invitation, she perched on the edge
of the chair. At that point, Sam noticed her dress. And what
healthy male—hell, living male—wouldn’t notice that dress?
Made of white satin, it was a long,
scoop-necked, body-hugging confection that left little doubt as to
the slender, yet curvy form beneath. The dress was so tight Sam was
inclined to believe it’ been shrink-wrapped on. He could see the
outline of her ribs. Her hips. Teeth clenched, he sucked in a slow
breath. If she were wearing underwear—and that was a big if—t’d
have to be white silk and he’d bet his next mortgage payment it was
a thong.
Sam shifted in his seat and
took a sip of coffee to wet his suddenly parched mouth.
Aw, hell
he thought again.
She was a potential client. Placing mental wagers on the choice of
her undergarments was hardly professional. Still, the idea made him
think of other unmentionables; and, before he could stop himself,
Sam’s wayward gaze had moved to her breasts. He swallowed tightly.
Just as he suspected—no bra either.
“
I need to go on an
adventure today,” the woman who wanted to be called Lou announced
brightly.
Sam blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“
An adventure, she said,
excitement sparkling in her baby blues. She leaned forward. “What
can you arrange for me immediately? Like today. Preferably in
another part of the country. I’d like to leave as soon as
possible.” She smiled and made a little victorious salute with her
fist. “I’m ready for the time of my life.”
Sam’s libido wilted. He felt an idiotic grin curve
his lips. “You’re serious.”
“
Quite,” she confirmed with
a patient smile. “Now if you’ll just outline your packages, I’ll
choose one and we can be on our way.”
She folded her hands in her lap and waited
with an expectant smile.
Dumbfounded, Sam raked a hand through his
hair, let out a heavy breath, then leaned forward. He could feel
the idiot grin on his face again and made a valiant effort to erase
it from his lips. “Look, Ms. Honeycutt—”
“
Lou, please,” she demurred
with a smile. “And I assure you, any adventure will do. I’m quite
flexible. However, time is of the essence, so whatever package you
think will suit—”
“
Ms. Honeycutt. Er, Lou,” he
corrected at her arched brow. Sam gave a little disbelieving
chuckle. “I’m afraid you’re confused about the service my company
provides. We aren’t a travel agency, ma’am. We’re adventure
guides.”
“
Perfect,” she beamed. “I’m
in need of an adventure. Now which one would you
suggest?”
Was she purposely misunderstanding? Sam
wondered. Inwardly, he sighed. “Again, I think that you’ve been
given some misinformation about our firm and the services we
provide. We don’t have any packages or unplanned adventures. You
plan your own adventure and Double Dare provides a guide and
handles all the necessary preparations.”
Her delicate brows drew together. “You mean I
have to think up something on my own?”
Sam chuckled at the note of
dread in her voice. “Well, it wouldn’t exactly be
your
adventure if you
didn’t.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “No, I suppose it
wouldn’t, would it?” She sighed, then brightened and aim a
thousand-watt smile at him. The familiarity of that grin struck Sam
once more, but to his puzzlement he still couldn’t place it. “Well,
be that as it may,” she said determinedly, “I’d still like to go on
an immediate adventure. Couldn’t we just do a
by-the-seat-of-our-pants affair?” She waved her hand airily. “Maybe
start with a trip to the beach? I’ve always wanted to try
snorkeling.”
Snorkeling? Same smothered a laugh. She
didn’t need Double Dare, she needed a big bathtub…and a buddy.
Admittedly, he needed the money and her
adventure would most likely be the tamest expedition he’d ever
hosted. But something told him—some innate sense of
self-preservation—that getting involved on any level with this
gorgeous creature would be a monumental mistake. For someone who
made his living by taking risks, Sam was exceedingly careful with
personal decisions. His swift physical reaction to her had made Lou
Honeycutt a personal decision.
Presently, Sam didn’t have time for a
relationship, permanently or otherwise. And wouldn’t ever have time
for one if he didn’t concentrate on business.
“
Look, Ms. Honeycutt—” Sam
leaned forward and prepared to stand. “—I really think that given
your needs, you’d be better off soliciting the aid of a good travel
agent. I can recommend one, if you—”
“
I see,” she interrupted
crisply. “Snorkeling is too tame for you. Okay. Fine. I can think
of something else. Quite honestly, I didn’t think that I would have
to justify my adventure.” She speared him with a dry look. “And you
are the one who pointed out that I must invent my own.
Nevertheless," she sighed-“if snorkeling isn’t your style I’m
certain that I can come up with something a little
more…titillating. Let’s see,” she mused.
Aw, hell. “Ms. Honeycutt—”
“
What if I swam with
sharks?” she suggested. “Personally, I have always found dolphins
more to my liking. Such graceful creatures. And we wouldn’t have to
worry about getting eaten by them, but I guess that’s the draw,
huh?” She frowned with distaste. “The danger of being ripped apart
limb from limb. Bit in half by a great white or the like.” Her eyes
widened. “Dismembered or disemboweled by a flesh-eating fish that
anyone with half a brain shouldn’t want to be near, much less swim
with, but…”
At this point, Sam almost laughed. She seemed
to be taking more to herself than to him and, despite his
intentions otherwise, he found her preoccupation oddly delightful.
Nevertheless, he needed to steer her to another agency.
“
Ms. Honeycutt-“ he tried
again.
“
Or,” she kept right on, as
though he hadn’t spoken a word, “I suppose I could see trekking
after Bigfoot. Truthfully, I’ve never given more than a passing
thought to the fabled Sasquatch, but…”
“
Ms. Honeycutt,” Sam
interrupted more forcefully before she could regale him with her
thoughts on the pros and cons of chasing the mythical being. “I
really think—”
“
Look, Mr. Rawlins,” she
interrupted anxiously. A hint of desperation rang in her voice.
“I’m in need of an adventure.” She took a deep breath and a wobbly
smile teased her lips. “A t-ten to fourteen day adventure, to be
exact. Obviously, I don’t have anything specific in mind, but I
need to leave at once.” Her gaze searched his. “I’ll pay handsomely
for your services.”
Something in her tone, her demeanor set off a
warning bell in Sam’s head. Man-eating sharks and Bigfoot
forgotten, he paused and gave her a considering look. “Are you in
some sort of trouble?”
A sharp titter of patently false laughter
erupted from her throat, reinforcing Sam’s suspicions. Giving him a
don’t-be-silly look, she reached up and twisted a coil of gold hair
around her finger. “T-trouble?” she stuttered. “No, of course not.
Why would you think that?”
“
I don’t know…” Sam trailed
off absently. A broken string with a few tiny pearls lay next to
the curve of her breast. A breast he shouldn’t have been looking
at, but… Puzzled, Sam frowned. Noticing the direction of his gaze,
she blushed and jerked her arm down.
“
As an added incentive, I’ll
offer a b-bonus.”
With that remark Sam tensed and looked away
for a moment. Why did the haves always assume the have-nots would
be bought? He forced a tight smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t work that
way.”
“
I never assumed you did.
I’m not trying to buy you, Mr. Rawlins,” she assured, smiling
again. “I’m trying to buy some ti-, er…an adventure,” she hastily
corrected. Puffing a breath of air on her nails, she blithely
polished them on her dress. Her gaze darted to his, then back to
her nails. “A spur of the moment request deserves additional
compensation, of course.”
She casually named another
figure—one so staggering Sam’s jaw dropped. One that, despite his
reservations, he couldn’t simply reject out of hand…because it
would make his dream—the premiere issue of
The Edge
-a reality.