Expecting the Boss's Baby / Twins Under His Tree. Karen Rose Smith
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Название: Expecting the Boss's Baby / Twins Under His Tree

Автор: Karen Rose Smith

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish

isbn: 9781408903704

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ The deception might be a little frayed around the edges. But it still did the job, still made it clear to Dax—to both of them—that she was off-limits to him as a potential bed partner.

      Finally, he growled at her, “What are you grinning about? Why aren’t you working?” and turned and disappeared into his office.

      The rest of that week and the one that followed were hectic. There were a thousand and one things to do before they could be ready to go. And the time line to get everything in order was scarily short. Preparations for the Spotlight trips usually took months of careful planning. But not this time. Dax had decided they were changing everything up. And Dax, after all, was the boss.

      Over a stolen hour for lunch the Friday before they left, Lin said it was his nature. “Things go too smoothly for too long, he can’t stand it. He needs challenge, a little crisis theater, some spice in his life.”

      Zoe sipped her iced tea. “You know he’s flying us?”

      “Why not? He owns three or four planes. Might as well use one of them.”

      “A small plane, he said. A single-engine plane. Ugh.”

      “Look on the bright side. Commercial flights are a zoo these days, planes breaking down, the nightmare of security checkpoints. With an airline, you could land in Mexico City and never leave.”

      “We have to stop just over the border at Nuevo Laredo anyway, and deal with customs. The checklist of papers we have to carry and file is endless. We even had to get third-party liability insurance from a Mexican company.”

      Lin waved a hand. “Travel’s a pain, it’s true.”

      “That’s not what I’m talking about. I love to travel, under any circumstances. I love luxury destinations. And I don’t mind roughing it.”

      “But you hate small planes, is that it?”

      “No, I can take a small plane. I get a little motion sickness, but I have the pills to handle that.”

      Lin shrugged. “Then what is it? Is Johnny upset that you’ll be gone for a week?”

      “No. Of course not. Johnny … supports me. Completely.”

      “Then what is the problem?”

      Zoe thought about Dax. His honed razor of a mind, his hot body. His gorgeous bedroom eyes that could look so low-lidded and sensual, but somehow always saw way too much. She loved her job. She would not lose it. And she had this feeling lately that Dax had set out to purposely tempt her.

      Just the two of them, in a small plane. It seemed … dangerous—though, really, how could it be? He would be flying the damn thing. No way would he have a chance to try convincing her of the benefits of joining the mile-high club.

      And even if he did break his own rule and make a pass, well, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. She had her priorities in order. Ending up in bed with Dax was at the very top of her list—her never-to-do list.

      “Zoe. Yoo-hoo. You’re zoning out on me here….”

      Zoe blinked away her worries and pasted on a bright smile. “Sorry. You’re right. The small plane thing is fine. It’s perfect. The whole trip is perfect. I don’t know why I’m complaining. I’m going to meet Ramón Esquevar. It’s my first Spotlight, one I came up with myself, and I’m thrilled to be going. There is no problem. No problem at all.”

      They were in the air at eight in the morning on Monday, the second of August. The four-seater Cessna 400 Corvalis TT—for Twin Turbocharged—was top-of-the-line among single-engine aircraft, Dax explained. Zoe thought it was rather like sitting in a big, comfortable luxury sedan—a sedan that sailed the clear blue sky and had an instrument panel instead of a dashboard.

      There was plenty of room in back for the clothing and equipment they would need, and then some. Zoe had taken her Dramamine and was feeling pleasant and relaxed as she looked down on the San Antonio sprawl below them. She watched as it faded away behind them.

      “This baby has a cruising speed of two-hundred thirty-five knots,” Dax told her with the pride men always seem to have in their big, expensive toys. “We’ll be in Nuevo Laredo in no time.”

      And they were. They checked in with customs and were cleared for takeoff again an hour later. Because the Cessna 400 had a ginormous gas tank, they could now go all the way to their destination airport at Tuxtla Gutiérrez. That would take another five or six hours.

      “I can’t wait,” Zoe said drily. But she would have to. She’d been careful not to go overboard on the morning coffee and to visit the ladies room at Nuevo Laredo. But even with that, she had a feeling she was going to be very grateful to touch down and race for the nearest el baño.

      For a while, Zoe watched the land flow away from them below and snapped a few random pictures of the starkly beautiful desert rock formations with her lightweight Nikon D90, which she considered the best possible all-around camera there was.

      Yes, she had more expensive cameras. She had a nice trust fund and could afford to indulge herself. But for most situations, the D90 and a couple of good lenses were all she ever needed.

      Dax seemed happy as a kid in a big candy store. He extolled yet more of the virtues of the Cessna 400.

      “Safety is a top priority with Cessna. Every exterior surface—fuselage and wings and the flight controls—is embedded with lightning mesh. You never have to worry about a lightning strike. Also, they install static wicks on the back edge of the wings and elevator, which means static buildup is discharged safely without affecting function or disrupting other electrical systems.”

      “That really puts my mind at rest,” she told him drily.

      “I knew it would. I love to fly. My uncle Devon, the family ne’er-do-well, taught me. He had a ranch near Amarillo.”

      “Being a rancher makes a guy a ne’er-do-well?”

      “To my father, it did. He and my uncle were the last of the Girard line. My father expected my uncle Devon to do what all Girards have done. Because a Girard comes from money—and is fully expected to do his part making more money. My uncle refused to follow the plan.”

      She knew that Great Escapes was not a huge moneymaker. “So you’re kind of like your uncle, huh?”

      The dig didn’t even faze him. “Yeah, guess I am. But I do understand money and I know whom to hire to make me more of it, so I can afford to indulge myself in my passion for travel and in my magazine.”

      “And in your airplanes and expensive cars and designer motorcycles.”

      “Yes, exactly. And still my fortune just keeps on growing.”

      “Not that you’re bragging about that or anything.”

      He slanted her a glance. “You really should be more impressed with me, you know.”

      “Sorry, I’ll work on that.”

      “And where was I?”

      “Your ne’er-do-well rancher uncle who taught you СКАЧАТЬ