LITMIR.BIZ

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He might be odd, but she could’ve really learned a lot from someone with his experience.

      She’d done a Google search on him before the interview, had been blown away by his field experience. Rhys Cartwright wasn’t your average CEO. He’d travelled the world after gaining his degree, had seen more places and done more exciting things than she’d ever dreamed about.

      She envied him. While she’d been attending polo matches and nightclub openings and charity galas, he’d been out in the wilderness—the Amazon, the Arctic—making a difference.

      Not that she hadn’t loved her old life. She had, with every breath she took. But it had been a lie, all of it, and when the world as she knew it had collapsed around her ears she’d been left with the bitter knowledge the life she’d loved had been rather empty anyway.

      She might have walked away from a brilliant marriage in the making and parents she’d idolised but, in shrugging off the constraints of her old life, she’d been reborn. Emotionally, psychologically, maybe even physically; for there was no other explanation for her irrational reaction to Rhys’ raw sexuality.

      Her hormones, bruised and battered from Julian’s neglect while he’d focused on work, had jump-started in a big way the instant she’d met her charismatic boss. She should be relieved he wouldn’t be accompanying her to Alaska.

      Then why the annoying sliver of disappointment?

      With an exasperated huff she dumped her backpack, rolled her shoulders and glanced at her watch. She had two hours before meeting her new co-workers at the airport. Back in Sydney, she would’ve grabbed a latte, surfed the Net on her iPhone or colour co-ordinated her outfit for that night’s upcoming party.

      Here in Vancouver, about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime, she did the only sane thing: flipped open her Lonely Planet guide and started reading.

      Suck it up. You can do this.

      Pasting a fake smile on her face—a smile honed through many years of attending gala functions as part of the Beacham brigade—Jade strode towards two men wearing Wild Thing polo shirts.

      Her legs wobbled the entire journey across the tarmac as she wished for an errant plane to drop on her head.

      Whatever made her think for one stupid second she could swap stilettos for hiking boots, angora for anoraks? She was a novice, an inexperienced one at that, about to spend six months in the Alaskan wilderness.

      Sure, she’d always loved nature, had thrived on school excursions to the Outback, to the Blue Mountains, her love of cold weather flourishing when her class had camped near the foot of Mount Kosciusko.

      She’d begged her parents to take her camping after that. Predictably, they’d turned up their noses and chosen a first-class trip to a six-star spa resort in Thailand instead.

      So she’d become smarter then, researching her favourite cold spots around the world—Val d’Isère in France, Queenstown in New Zealand, Sahoro in Japan—and pointing out the luxury accommodation and spa treatments to ensure her parents would visit. While they’d sunk cocktails in the bar and been smothered in caviar facials, she’d explored on her own, following trails off the beaten track, collecting local flora, revelling in the sub-zero temperatures.

      She’d loved every second of those trips and now she had a chance to follow a secret passion: a true love of the outdoors. No way would she allow a last-minute attack of nerves to stop her.

      Reaching the guys, she smiled and held out her hand.

      ‘Jade Beacham.’

      The taller guy shook her hand firmly. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack Summer and this oaf is Cody Winter.’

      Cody, shorter, rounder and shaggier—he reminded her of a giant teddy—elbowed his colleague and sent her a warm grin. ‘Don’t mind him. He lives in the wild most of the time.’

      She laughed. ‘Summer and Winter?’

      The guys chortled. ‘Strange, but true. Gets a laugh out of the tourists.’

      ‘I bet.’

      Jack cupped his ear. ‘Is that an Aussie accent I hear? You from Down Under?’

      ‘Sydney.’

      She loved the buzz of the Harbour city: the vibe, the excitement, the eclectic mix of people and restaurants and shops. Sydney never slept, the perfect party town for a party princess. Who had flung off her crown, kicked off her glass slippers and left her Prince Charming to turn back into the toad he was.

      ‘Did you go to the Olympics? That would’ve been awesome!’

      She shook her head, remembering the prissy party she’d attended with her folks instead. She’d been mad keen to attend the opening ceremony, but her folks had been invited to Dubai for the launch of some new hotel so they’d flown there, followed by a whirlwind visit to London and a stopover in Paris for a soirée on the way home.

      She’d missed the whole Olympics but in typical Beacham fashion, Daddy had taken her to the next Olympics in Athens, flying first-class all the way.

      ‘No, I missed out. Watched it on TV though.’

      She could see Cody, the more perceptive of the two, noted her discomfort.

      ‘Don’t worry, Aussie girl. Where we’re going you’ll see more sport than you could ever wish for.’

      ‘Really?’

      The image of fierce lumberjacks in checked jackets sprang to mind though, apart from fishing, she didn’t think Alaska had much sport.

      Jack rolled his eyes. ‘You ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’ve seen the way the tourists pour off the cruise ships, trample through the bush, jostle each other for the best position in the bus or canoe, then push and shove their way towards the food at the end of a tour. A medal-winning performance to the last person standing.’

      She laughed, relieved the boys had a sense of humour. It would make the next six months a lot easier if they didn’t resent the newbie and concentrated on making her laugh instead.

      ‘Hey, boss, come to wish us bon voyage?’

      Jack’s question came from left field as a strange prickling awareness raised the hairs on the nape of her neck.

      Someone stood close behind her. Too close. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was: her flip-flopping belly was a great recognition device.

      ‘No bon voyage. This time I’m coming along to keep an eye on you.’

       Oh, no…

      Not wanting to appear rude, she turned, sent him a curt nod in greeting.

      Rhys Cartwright had lost the suit; unfortunately, faded denim jeans highlighted lean legs, the bottle-green polo shirt increasing the impressive breadth of his shoulders. Yep, definitely a superhero bod. And now he was coming with them? No way.

      ‘That’s great, boss.’ Cody extended a hand.

       Yeah, real great.

      ‘Cool.’ Jack shook his hand too as she surreptitiously cleared her throat, trying to ease the sudden constriction at the thought of Rhys accompanying them.

      While the boys busied themselves with the luggage and equipment, Rhys leaned closer, invading her personal space with his own special brand of ka-pow.

      ‘Needless to say, I’ll be watching you too.’

      His ice-blue eyes pinned her with their brilliance as she suppressed a shudder of anticipation. Must be her eagerness to learn from him. Yeah, that was why her tummy tumbled and her palms grew clammy at the thought of spending six long months in the wilderness with her new boss. Her story and she was sticking to it.

      ‘You don’t have to worry. I’ll do my best.’

      And she fully intended to. She

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