LITMIR.BIZ

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sat up even straighter. “Fine. All right. I want you to wait to do the Spotlight on San Cristóbal until you’re ready to take me along as your assistant, instead of one of the associates. That’s what I want, okay? I want to go.”

      He rested his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers. Yeah, he was playing this, stringing it along to enjoy her honest excitement, her clear desire to be directly involved in the feature she had just proposed. Most of the time, she was careful around him, she guarded that light in her eyes from him. She tried to keep things all business.

      And he respected that, he really did. Still, it was gratifying for him, to listen to her speak with heat, with passion. To see her eagerness, her enthusiasm, her willingness to push for what she wanted, to try to get him to give her a chance, to let her take the next step.

      She glared at him. “Just tell me. Just give me an answer. Will you wait for a few months to do my Spotlight?”

      “No.”

      Her sweet, soft mouth trembled as she pressed her lips together to keep herself from calling him a thoroughly inappropriate name. He liked that about her, too. She had passion, but she also kept herself in hand. She took care not to step over the line.

      “Well.” A slow, deep breath. A toss of that flame-colored hair. “Fine, then. You were right, I needed to ask. At least I’ll never kick myself because I didn’t even try.”

      “I don’t think you’ll kick yourself at all.”

      She blinked. And then she gasped. She got what he was hinting at. “You’re serious?”

      “Yes. It’s early, I know. But you learn fast. I think you’re ready. You’ll get to prove yourself.”

      “I’m going with you?” Breathless, heartbreakingly hopeful.

      “Yes, Zoe. I’m doing your Chiapas trip instead of the one to Mykonos. I’m leaving Monday, August second. And you are going with me.”

      Chapter Four

      “Have you made the reservations for Mexico yet?” Dax asked the next morning as he stepped out of the elevator.

      Of course she had. She’d worked late the day before, getting everything set up. She handed him his coffee. “Yes. Mexicana Airlines. One stopover in Mexico City and then on to the international airport at Tuxtla Gutiérrez, the capital city of the state of Chiapas. We can get a taxi from there to …” She let the words trail off as she saw that he was shaking his head. “Is there a problem?”

      He took the lid off his coffee, sniffed it the way he always did and then enjoyed a careful sip. “Cancel the flight.”

      She blinked. “Excuse me?”

      “How are you in small planes?”

      “With enough Dramamine, anything is possible, but—”

      “Good. I’m going to fly us.”

      Not in her plan. Not in the least. “Dax …”

      “Don’t argue. Just do it.”

      “If I could only make one little point …”

      “You’re boring me, Zoe.”

      “Too bad. I intend to make my point and my point is that readers like to know how you got there—on a commercial flight, just the way that they will. Especially since this is supposed to be a budget destination.”

      His smile was annoyingly smug. “Now you know more than I do about what readers want in a Spotlight?”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      “But you sure as hell are thinking it. Cancel the reservation. We’re going to have some fun.”

      The way he said that kind of scared her. “I, um, didn’t know you were a pilot.”

      He gave her a look of endless patience. “I may be in magazine publishing now, but I spent years adventuring in the wilds, from Borneo to the South Pole.”

      As if she didn’t know that. “Yes, but—”

      “I’ve been flying small planes since I was too young to drive a car. Cancel the flights.”

      She ground her teeth together and reminded herself that he was the boss, that she was very grateful to him for giving her this chance when she’d been his assistant for only a month. “Yes, Dax. All right.”

      “I love it when you’re obsequious. It happens so seldom. And guess what?”

      “I have no idea.”

      “I’ve already found our photographer.” He paused, sipped more coffee.

      “I’m listening.” No, she had no illusions it was going to be her.

      And it wasn’t. “I called Ramón Esquevar. He’ll be in Guatemala next week and he’s promised to meet us in San Cristóbal.”

      Okay, she was totally impressed. She sighed. She couldn’t help it. Esquevar was world-class. His photographs appeared in Time and National Geographic. She’d always hoped someday she might meet him. Now she would get to watch him work.

      Dax was grinning at her. “You’re speechless.”

      She let her smile bloom wide. “Esquevar. I can hardly believe it. That’s fabulous.”

      “We got lucky. The timing just happened to be right for him.” He spotted her ring finger, where a ring that looked exactly like the one she had broken the day before glittered, big and bright. “That was fast.”

      She kept on smiling. Let him think what he wanted. She’d gone back to the same shop last night, got there just before it closed. The tattooed shopkeeper had dug up another ring for her—even given her a discount after she gave him a hard time for selling shoddy goods.

      Dax sipped his coffee and watched her for a minute, no doubt waiting for her to confess that there was no Johnny and there never had been.

      She did no such thing. 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

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