Forever Flint. Barbara Boswell
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advantage of an all-expenses-paid trip? Because the entire expedition, including guide fees, has been bankrolled by your magazine.”
Ashlinn was momentarily taken aback. “It has?”
“It has” Flint started walking toward the baggage claim area.
Automatically, Ashlinn trotted alongside him. “Junior didn’t mention that Tour & Travel was financing the trip.”
“Well, you are. Carmody arranged the logistics of the expedition, but Tour & Travel is footing the bill for everybody. Paradise Outdoors will also get a year’s free advertising in the magazine and publicity for the products used, because you’ll be writing about them in your article.”
They came to stand beside a revolving carousel, waiting for the luggage to appear.
“Let me make sure I have this right—Tour & Travel is funding this camping trip and giving the Paradise Outdoors Company free advertising for a year plus free publicity for products sold by the company?” Ashlinn said carefully “What exactly does the magazine get out of this deal?”
“That’s what I asked Carmody.” Flint shrugged. “He told me the publisher said Tour & Travel wanted the article badly and thought it was worth paying for.”
“I see.” Boy did she ever! Junior hates me and is hoping I’ll either quit or get permanently lost in the wilderness, Ashlinn thought grimly. He’d consider that worth paying for, especially since it was his daddy’s money, not his own, that he was throwing around.
“Carmody had all the proper contracts signed so I had no objections to this trip—until now,” Flint added, narrowing his eyes. “Now, I not only have objections, I have grave reservations.”
“Oh, I had those from the start,” muttered Ashlinn.
They watched in silence as baggage from the flight began to slide down the chute onto the carousel. Ashlinn quickly claimed hers, two matching top-brand suitcases that she’d purchased on sale. She was an excellent shopper, tracking down bargains, finding quality merchandise at the lowest prices. It was a talent that wouldn’t come in too handy on this particular trip, she acknowledged ruefully.
“Let’s go.” Flint handed her his clipboard and his sign and lifted a suitcase in each hand. He grimaced at the weight.
She decided to beat him to the punch with, “Go on, make the predictable tired old quip about rocks being in there. How about asking me if I packed everything but the kitchen sink?”
“Did you?” He headed toward the doors. “Now it’s your turn to laugh politely at the lame joke.”
“Ha, ha,” she said. “Was that polite enough?”
Though he carried the two heavy bags, he was striding along at a rate that made her half run to keep up with him. They left the terminal and headed toward the parking area, eventually reaching a champagne-colored Saturn.
Flint proceeded to load her bags into the trunk.
“I guess we won’t be taking this car into the Bad Hills,” Ashlinn said. She sounded nervous, even to herself.
She was nervous. Because it had just occurred to her that she was expected to climb inside this car with this man, whom she hardly knew. At night, in an unfamiliar city. She was too well-versed in stranger danger not to be uneasy. Alarm quickly followed. What should she do?
“That would be the Black Hills,” corrected Flint. He opened the passenger door for her and stood there, waiting for her to get in. “And you guessed right. My car stays home. We’re taking a big van with four-wheel drive and tires sturdy enough for the roughest terrain.”
Ashlinn hesitated beside the door and began to leaf through the pages on the clipboard, stalling for time. She couldn’t bring herself to move, let alone get into the car where the two of them would be alone together in the darkness.
She skipped over the ‘Asher Carey’ page and read aloud the names on the other four sheets. “Jack Hall. Etienne Bouvier. Rico Figueroa. Koji Yagano. They’re the other ones going on this trip?”
Flint nodded. “Hall is Australian, Bouvier is French, Figueroa from Argentina and Yagano from Japan. Each writes freelance articles for men’s travel-outdoor-adventure magazines in his own country.”
“Then there’s me, from the USA. The group is a veritable United Nations of travel magazines.” Ashlinn managed a faint smile.
“And Paradise Outdoors will get advertising and publicity in all those magazines. This trip of Carmody’s really was a good idea, and getting Tour & Travel to finance the whole thing took extraordinary salesmanship.” Flint’s irritation with his injured marketing chief appeared to soften.
“My entire staff is committed to taking the company into the global marketplace I don’t know how much you know about Paradise Outdoors, but we’ve grown from a small niche company selling specialized travel gear by catalog to a broader inventory and national customer base. Now we’re headed worldwide.” Flint’s face lighted with enthusiasm as he talked about his company. Ashlinn found herself studying him, and as she watched and listened, her fear was transformed into something else entirely. All of a sudden, she was excruciatingly aware of everything about him.
Like his height. He literally towered over her, and in her boots with their three-inch heels, she was nearly five-eight, which wasn’t exactly short.
He was strong too; he’d proven that by whisking along her ten-ton suitcases like feather pillows. The short sleeves of his white cotton shirt revealed the hard muscles of his arms.
Ashlinn swallowed hard He was tall and strong—and then there was the additional matter of his looks. Somehow, those hadn’t registered until now, either. He was very handsome, not to mention virile-looking.
Her mouth was dry. “Tall, dark, and handsome” was a cliché, but definitely applied to him. Words were her stock-in-trade, and Ashlinn realized she could come up with a thesaurusfull to describe Flint Paradise.
He seemed to be expecting some response from her. Floundering in the mind-shattering seas of sexual awareness, Ashlinn couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“My father started the business thirty years ago, and I took over as CEO after his death seven years ago. My staff instituted the full-color catalog, expanded the inventory and the mailing list and got a website on the Internet for cybersales. We’re well situated to take Paradise Outdoors into the millennium,” Flint proudly volunteered, with no prompting from her.
“Paradise is an unusual name, a good one for your company,” Ashlinn finally came up with something to say, but she winced upon hearing it aloud. Could that really be her? She sounded like a simp! Self-consciousness struck, accompanied by an adrenaline rush. Mature women of twenty-eight did not develop instant crushes, did they? Yet she was behaving as if that was exactly what had just happened to her.
Thank heavens Flint seemed unaware of it.
“We were told our great-grandfather chose the name Paradise,” he explained. “The chief was a Lakota Sioux and liked the sound of that particular Anglo word, so he decided to use it for his name.”
Flint’s eyes locked with Ashlinn’s.
“Lakota Sioux? Like in Dances with Wolves?”
“Yeah.” Flint gave a laugh. “I keep forgetting about that movie, but people, especially women, keep reminding me.”
Ashlinn suspected he was laughing at her but carried on anyway. “There’s a certain chic to being Native American,” she suggested.
Not to mention romance, added a teasing little voice in her head. And he does conjure up thoughts of romance, doesn’t he?
She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from Flint Paradise. He had a long straight nose, high cheekbones, a well-shaped mouth and his skin was the color of polished bronze. He really did bear a resemblance to a hero