Wilde Side. Jannine Gallant

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to hold back a laugh, relieved she’d been smart enough to opt out of a second cup of coffee with her breakfast.

      “Here we are, folks, Boundary Creek Campground.” The driver’s amused gaze met hers in the rearview mirror as the older woman stopped the van behind the limo. “For those in need, toilets are over to the right through those trees.”

      When Devin pulled the release handle on the door to slide it open, the journalist bolted past her and disappeared into a stand of lodgepole pine. She and the videographer riding in the back seat climbed out more slowly. Stretching her arms out in front of her to ease kinked muscles, she took a bracing breath of chilly morning air—then nearly choked when her gaze landed on the man approaching at a fast clip. If he were a mere mortal. Devin had serious doubts. The specimens who hung around Capitol Hill didn’t have hard-muscled chests tanned to a deep bronze, or arms that could surely sweep her off her feet with little effort. Short brown hair, damp from a shower—or maybe a swim in the river roaring loud enough to drown out the chirping birds—crowned a face with a straight nose, hard jaw and square chin.

      When the blue T-shirt he’d just pulled over his head shifted down to cover drool-worthy abs, Devin forced her gaze upward. Amusement sparkled in green eyes flecked with gold, and a hint of a smile curled firm lips.

      Why wouldn’t he laugh? She must look like a gaping idiot with her mouth hanging open. She snapped her jaw shut. Too late for damage control. The newcomer had already veered right, his full attention captured by the congressman waiting beside the limo.

      Shrewd gray eyes bright with pleasure softened the blunt features of Hinsdale’s rugged face as the big man greeted him. “Howdy, stranger. How long has it been?”

      “Way too long.” A grin stretched the hottie’s mouth to reveal even teeth. “My parents’ thirtieth anniversary party three—no—four years ago.”

      The initial handshake turned into a back-slapping hug. Devin’s boss had mentioned the owner of Wilde Waters Rafting was a family friend. She could only assume from the congressman’s genuine smile, not the effortless one he pasted on for public appearances, that the recipient of the bear hug was Sawyer Wilde.

      Walton stepped back and glanced over his shoulder. “Sawyer, you remember my son, Dwight. He’s grown some since you last saw him.”

      “Of course.” The rafting guide held out a hand. “How’s it going?”

      The congressman’s teenaged son straightened from his perpetual slouch. Dark hair hung in his face but didn’t disguise disdainful brown eyes as he briefly grasped the offered hand. “It’s going.”

      Silence descended.

      Walton cleared his throat, then motioned to the two additions Devin had been forced to accommodate at the last minute. His brother-in-law and teenaged nephew had been included to boost the family angle and give his campaign more credence with conservative voters.

      “Charles, come meet Sawyer Wilde, my godson and our guide for the trip.” The regulation smile flashed again. “His father and I go way back to our college days at the University of Wyoming. Sawyer, this is my brother-in-law, Charles Monahan, and his son, Alex. Charles lives in your neck of the woods, just east of Cody. Maybe you two have met?”

      Sawyer shook Charles’s outstretched hand. “I don’t think so. Do you work in Cody?”

      “No, I’m in sales, so most of my time is spent on the road, but Wyoming’s my home base.”

      The congressman turned on the heels of his sneakers and frowned. “Devin, where the devil…oh, there you are.”

      Brushing her fingers down the sides of her spandex running pants, she stepped forward to hold out a hand to the hottie. “I’m Devin Lockhart, the one responsible for flooding your inbox with emails.”

      A warm, callused palm closed over hers as moss green eyes scanned her face then dipped lower for a brief moment before returning to meet her gaze. “I appreciate your attention to detail. It made organizing this trip relatively smooth despite all the complications involved with hosting a public figure.”

      When he let go of her tingling fingers, she stuffed them in her sweatshirt pocket. “My job is to make things easier for the congressman.”

      Walton patted her shoulder. “And she does it so well. Until November rolls around and the votes are counted, my life will be a three-ring circus. Without Devin, I’d be sunk.” His voice lowered. “If these press people try to do anything to tarnish my image, she’ll be all over them.”

      One of Sawyer’s brows shot up. “Will things be any better once you’re elected president?”

      Hinsdale’s booming laugh echoed through the pine trees. “I like your positive thinking, though I’m well aware chances the people will elect an Independent candidate are slim.”

      “Your numbers in the polls are climbing.”

      Flinty eyes gleamed. “Yes, they are. We’ll see what happens.” The congressman clapped his hands together. “I’m ready to get this adventure started. When do we shove off?”

      “As soon as we load your gear and have a brief talk about safety and what can be expected while we’re on the water. Take a little time to stretch after your drive, have a snack, change if you need to. Temps are expected to warm up considerably.” Sawyer glanced back at Devin. “Maybe you could gather any stragglers and arrange for the whole group to meet me down by the river in about twenty minutes?”

      She nodded. “Organizing is what I do best.”

      When his gaze perused her from head to toe a second time, her cheeks heated…along with a few more intimate areas. She shifted and crossed feet clad in a pair of old flip-flops.

      Bright eyes darkened to match the surrounding evergreens. “Somehow, I doubt organizing is the only thing you’re good at.”

      * * * *

      Walton’s assistant was hot. Super hot. Not that Sawyer was complaining. Based on her ultra-efficient email correspondence, he’d expected an older woman in a no-nonsense suit and sensible shoes. Not a twenty-something cutie in flip-flops and form-fitting workout pants. The form they fit was definitely curved in all the right places. Devin Lockhart would no doubt make this rafting trip a whole lot more interesting than he’d anticipated.

      From the get go, he’d expected a challenging few days. If Dwight’s surly attitude was any gauge, Walton’s son had a chip the size of a bull moose on his shoulder. Sawyer didn’t anticipate any cooperation from that one, but the brother-in-law and nephew seemed likable enough. Sawyer hadn’t met the media team yet. In addition to the congressman’s relatives, the group included a journalist and videographer for Political Spotlight, a national news show. Last, but certainly not least, the only female in the group, the sexy assistant. Seven newbies who’d probably never paddled a raft in their lives, tackling the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. They’d be lucky if everyone survived the trip. There was a reason this particular stretch of whitewater was nicknamed the River of No Return.

      Sawyer rolled his eyes. As he’d been told, the sole purpose of this fiasco-in-the-making was to splash Walton’s backwoods adventure across the media in a push for votes, and all his pleas to change the venue to a less challenging river had been summarily dismissed. An email from the assistant pointed out that a leisurely float down tame waters would defeat СКАЧАТЬ