Forever Flint. Barbara Boswell

Forever Flint - Barbara  Boswell


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key differences, of course. Flint’s thick glossy black hair was cut short, and she was fairly certain that the male cover models wore theirs long and untamed. And Flint’s white designer polo shirt and khaki trousers were a far cry from the loin cloths and feathers favored on the book covers.

      “Dad was Sioux and Mom was Irish,” Flint recited his bloodlines with a nonchalant shrug. “And my brother and sister and I prefer the term Indian to Native American. Just a personal preference, not a political statement either way”

      She nodded her head, gazing into eyes that were almond-shaped and black as coal. When he looked at her the way he was doing now, his heated gaze seemed to liquefy her insides.

      “We have to get going,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm. “Get in.”

      For a moment, he thought she was going to balk, to refuse and run back into the airport terminal.

      It would be for the best if she did, he decided, because just standing here looking at her during this time-filling, time-wasting conversation was turning him on so fast and so hard that the prospect of spending additional time with her, of sharing a tent with her. . .

      That stunning realization struck him for the first time. The six men booked for the trip were to sleep in pairs in three tents. Hall was matched with Yagano, Bouvier with Figueroa, Sam Carmody with Asher Carey.

      Which meant that Flint Paradise was assigned a tent with Ashlinn Carey! He was supposed to sleep in closest proximity to her for the next two weeks’

      Flint removed his hand at the same moment she jumped back. He could still feel the softness of her skin under his palm, and he robotically flexed his fingers. That he had touched her at all was uncharacteristic of him. He wasn’t the touchy-feely sort, given to casual physical contact. Yet he’d reached out and taken Ashlinn by the arm, which practically qualified as an intimate act for him! Such behavior was way out of line, Flint reproved himself. After all, the arrangement between Tour & Travel magazine and Paradise Outdoors made them colleagues, professionals working together.

      But then, she was supposed to be Asher Carey, a red-blooded man’s man, not Ashlinn, an irresistible temptress.

      They couldn’t go on this trip together. It was as simple as that. Now, all he had to do was to tell her so, to cancel the entire excursion and reimburse Tour & Travel and the other four members of the expedition.

      Ashlinn moistened her lips. His touch seemed to be seared onto her skin like a brand. She could still feel the warmth and strength of his big hand. She couldn’t stay, she decided. Not when she felt this forceful attraction to Flint Paradise. It was both scary and thrilling, like being on a roller coaster heading toward the top of a precipitous drop at warp speed.

      Ashlinn had always hated roller coasters.

      She would tell him that she was leaving Sioux Falls, that she was going back into the terminal right now, and no, he needn’t bother to help her carry her suitcases back inside, thanks very much. She was going to fly back to New York tonight if she had to go by way of Seattle to do so.

      But despite the decisive plans being concocted in their heads, neither Flint nor Ashlinn spoke a word

      Flint continued to hold the door for her, and she slipped into the front seat of the car, watching as he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed inside.

      Both simultaneously buckled their seatbelts The clicks of the metal clasps were the only sounds heard within the confines of the car.

      Flint turned the ignition key and the engine kicked into gear

      They were on their way.

      Two

      “Earlier this evening, I got the key to your motel room and put some of your new Paradise Outdoors gear in there,” Flint said at last, breaking the silence between them.

      It was rare for him to take the lead in making conversation, but he felt that need now. Ashlinn’s presence was galvanizing.

      “You have the key to my room?”

      He could guess what she must think. “I didn’t keep it, of course. I turned it back in at the desk,” he assured her hastily.

      Suddenly a vivid erotic fantasy flashed to mind, featuring himself slipping the key into the lock and entering her room where she waited for him in the darkness, lying on the bed wearing nothing but a drowsy, welcoming smile.

      Flint coughed and gave his head a quick shake. Luckily, his mind cleared.

      “You’ll have to repack, using our extended-journey backpack.” It was a command, not a suggestion.

      “You actually expect me to take two weeks’ worth of clothes and supplies from my two full-size suitcases and stuff it all into a backpack?” Ashlinn sounded edgy and incredulous.

      But she was glad they were talking again. Sitting in total silence while the car whizzed along the interstate highway left her too much time to imagine what lay ahead. Already a nervous anticipation was building within her.

      “Yes, I actually expect you to do that, Ashlinn.”

      The sound of her name on his lips stunned her back into silence.

      It was stupid to get so rattled because he’d simply called her by her own name, Ashlinn admonished herself. Except calling her by name made things between them seem personal.

      And of course, there was nothing personal between them; there was absolutely nothing between them at all. This foolish crush she seemed to have developed on him was certainly one-sided and didn’t count. She’d better quash it fast, before she truly humiliated herself.

      “Where will I keep my suitcases and the things left behind in them?” Ashlinn was pleased that her voice sounded crisp and efficient, no small feat when she still felt like a dazed schoolgirl. “Do I have the hotel room for the full two weeks?”

      It seemed a possibility at this point. With Tour & Travel financing the entire expedition, further extravagance on Junior’s part wouldn’t surprise her at all.

      “Junior isn’t that much of a spendthrift. Not when he’s not the recipient of his own largesse.”

      Ashlinn looked over at Flint, startled. It was as if he’d read her mind.

      They traded brief spontaneous smiles, then swiftly, rather guiltily, reset their frowns.

      “You can leave the rest of your belongings in my office at company headquarters,” Flint said stiffly. “We’ll have to head there first tomorrow morning to get you fitted with hiking boots and some special socks and, uh,” he cleared his throat. “A few personal things the catalog carries, things that are specifically sized and designed for women”

      “First? You don’t mean we’re going there before dawn, do you?”

      “We have to. The other guys already have everything and will expect to leave on schedule. They arrived this afternoon, as Carmody advised everybody to do. You’re the only member of the group who insisted on taking a late flight in.”

      “I didn’t insist. I was told the departure time and handed a ticket. And now I’ve got an assignment to complete, if I want to keep my job.”

      She turned toward him. “Will you help me do that, Flint?”

      It was the first time she’d said his name and the effect upon Flint was hot and instant. He shifted uncomfortably and hoped she wasn’t looking at his lap because his body wasn’t keeping any secret of his attraction to her. It responded reflexively, despite his attempt to will otherwise.

      “I’ll—do what I can,” he mumbled, forbidding his eyes to look her way. He trained his gaze ahead, on the monotonous flow of traffic on the interstate.

      “Good. Thank you. The first thing we need is to bring some other women along on this trip,” Ashlinn said briskly.

      Flint tensed.


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