“Probably for the best.” She laughs, but I can’t help but notice the rosy glow on her cheeks. “Minus the you carrying me part.”
Oh, really?
I keep my quips to myself for once as we split apart for our rooms.
After swapping my suit for jeans and a button-down shirt, I head for the lobby, making a quick stop at the front desk to pick up the basket I ordered.
“Are you ready?” a familiar voice behind me asks.
I turn to find a very different Sabrina Bristol than any I’ve encountered. My breath catches for a hot second.
She’s wearing pink pants that accent every curve and a tie-dyed tank top underneath a silky white cardigan.
As usual, she’s gorgeous, but the dramatic tie-dye is probably the most outlandish thing I’ve ever seen her in. “You’re into tie-dye? Do you also have a crystal healing habit I didn’t know about?”
She grins and her face goes rosy again. There goes my dick, jerking in my trousers like a badly behaved pet.
“The tank top’s technically part of my pajamas. When we come to these things, we never get much time to explore. I kinda figured I’d be in meetings the whole time we were here. So I didn’t pack for an outing at the park.”
“You aren’t going to want to wear those clothes to bed after being out in the sand.” I instantly regret my words.
What will she wear to bed, then?
I already know she’s adorable when she sleeps, I see it every time on our jet rides, and tonight she’ll probably have to sleep nude.
Fuck, what does she look like when—
“Are you okay?” Her eyes soften, and she bites her bottom lip with a smile.
Dammit, I’m flustered, and I’m sure she knows it.
“Never better. Let’s go. I know a few good places we can go. It’s not quite Sedona with its fabulous rocks and greenery, but Saguaros and sunsets are a godsend.”
Her gaze falls to the basket hanging in my hand.
“What’s that?”
I shrug. “Snacks. Just a few light things I had packed. Come on.”
I walk toward the door, forcing an end to this conversation.
Sabrina tags along, but being locked inside a vrooming sports car with her does nothing to calm my—nerves?
Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.
Any other description would be far less appropriate when it involves the hard-on from hell that just won’t die.
“Where are we going?” she asks, turning to bat her happy mocha-colored eyes at me.
“McDowell Mountain Park. It’s a big place, tons of trails, mountains, and wildlife. If we’re lucky, we’ll see a tortoise.”
“Oh, yay. I love those guys.” She claps her hands together softly.
God. I wish a certain part of my anatomy came with a shell to hide. It’d make this insane venture of mine a lot less awkward.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her widening grin, hoping she hasn’t noticed my bulge.
I don’t say anything but glance from the road to her.
“You want to hear something funny? It’s slightly pathetic, maybe, but I think you’ll laugh.”
“Sure,” I tell her.
“This is probably the craziest place I’ve ever been, away from Illinois. The scenery, the air, the sun...it’s all so different here. I mean, before working for you and traveling to hotel rooms all over the country but never actually leaving the hotels, at least, I’d never been anywhere more exotic than Wisconsin.”
Wow. What has her life been like? I’m not blind to my own privilege and luxuries, but she seems sheltered even compared to my other hires.
“Do you like expanding your world?”
“Yeah.” She leans her head against the car window. “I love the mountains and cacti here. It looks like another planet compared to the Midwest. And I don’t mind traveling for work—I’m grateful for the chance—but...I also hope someday I’m able to go places with time to soak them in.”
I chuckle. “Work isn’t a vacation. We’re dealing with very demanding clients and competitors pissier than any rattlesnake out here.”
“I know, but we were so close to Hollywood in L.A. I wish I could’ve seen the stars.”
“Like who?” I ask.
“No, not actors. Like the ones on the ground.”
“Oh—the Avenue of Stars,” I say.
Mental note: Next time we’re in L.A., make sure there’s time for a Hollywood trip.
The desert sun dips low in the sky, casting a brilliant neon-red sheet over everything. We’re well outside the city now, past Scottsdale and Fountain Hills. The suburban houses thin and the landscape turns wilder, filled with brush and soaring cacti and hawks that look like they’re on a mission.
“Whoa.” Sabrina fuses her face to the passenger window. “This is beautiful, Mr. Heron. I knew I’d like the desert since it’s unique, but I didn’t know it’d be so breathtaking.”
“It only gets better at sunset. Trust me.”
“Wow, look—that’s amazing!” She beams with a smile far brighter than the landscape lit all around us.
I glance over.
She’s pointing to the mountain range in the distance, one of the taller McDowells with its wrinkled, rolling peaks and winding valleys. It looks like a giant took a rake to the entire landscape thousands of years ago.
“I’ve never seen rocks like that before,” she whispers with the awe only a flatlander has.
“There were mountains in L.A.,” I remind her, fighting a smile.
“Oh, right. We didn’t really get out of the hotel much.”
“I’m sorry.” I pull over to the side of the road.
She shrugs, rolling her delicate shoulders.
“It’s business, and you pay well. I’m not complaining.” She blinks as I turn down a rockier side road. “What are we doing?”
“Since you adore the mountains so much, I thought we’d stop and have a look around. This is part of the main park, anyway. Just not the main entrance.”
“Oh, sounds great.”
A minute later, we’re parked and she opens her door, stepping out with the grace of an explorer in a new world.
“Be careful,” I say, getting out of the car. “Flip-flops probably aren’t the best shoes for this excursion. These trails are rougher than they look.”
“Chill. I’m totally fine,” she assures me, throwing a thumbs-up as the desert breeze whips her hair around.
Destroyed.
For what feels like a minute, I’m rooted to the ground, standing there like a lunk who’s forgotten how to walk.
All because the Arizona sun turns Sabrina Bristol into a work of art.
Passion.
Music.
Soul.
She’s an angel cast in rusted light and shadows that contrast far too brilliantly with her mahogany hair and a smile that could rob a man blind.
My hands drift to my pockets, though my wallet isn’t what I’m worried about losing.
I just don’t have a way to check my head, my heart, and find out if I’m still all there, or completely hollowed out by this spitfire Venus I damn sure shouldn’t be fawning over.
“Follow me,” I clip off, forcing my knees to move so I break the trance.