Your Room or Mine?

“Hardly. Which means it must be-”

“Gavin,” they said simultaneously.

“I’ll take care of this.” Jack reached for his desk phone and punched a few numbers. “Carla, this is Jack,” he said into the receiver. “Is Gavin available?” A few seconds later, he said, “Gavin, I just saw the itinerary for this weekend’s retreat. About this orienteering outing with Madeline-”

Jack’s words cut off and he frowned. “But… is it really neces-” A long pause. “But the expense-Oh. Everyone else isn’t arriving until Saturday morning.” Another long pause, interspersed with a few muttered “I sees,” and more scowling followed. “Yes… uh-huh… right… okay. I understand.” He replaced the receiver and faced her.

“Well, you really told him,” she deadpanned. “Way to take care of it. I don’t know word for word what Gavin said, but based on your end of the conversation and your expression, I’m guessing it was Gavin’s idea and that we’re going orienteering Saturday morning.”

“At six a.m.,” Jack confirmed, looking as displeased as she felt.

“Did he say why?” Maddie asked.

“Yes. He ‘senses some tension’ between us and ‘wants us to bond.’” His gaze practically skewered her. “What a load of garbage.”

“Biggest load of garbage I’ve ever heard,” she said, not to be outdone. “Based on your accusatory tone and expression, you clearly think this tension is my fault.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Did it ever occur to you that your my-way-or-the-highway attitude might be the problem?”

“Frankly, no,” he said. “Because I’m not that way at all, which if you knew me even slightly you would know. And I find it very amusing that you of all people would accuse me of being so.” He mimicked picking up the phone. “Hello, Kettle? Black Pot calling.”

She forced herself to draw a deep, calming breath and bury her annoyance at him for being, well, so damn annoying, and at herself, for allowing him to get to her. “I’m only here to help, Jack. I’m not the enemy.”

He favored her with that looking-right-through-her expression that spiked her blood pressure. Although he didn’t utter a word, she could see his resentment and it really rankled. Enough for her to say, “I think I must be clairvoyant, because I can easily read your thoughts.”

“Oh? What am I thinking?”

Adopting a masculine, deep voice, she said, “ ‘She’s getting paid big bucks to give answers I already know to questions I never even asked. She knows squat about my business-for cryin’ out loud, she doesn’t even like coffee- and I don’t want her here.’ ”

He considered for several seconds, then nodded. “That sums it up very well. Except you left out ‘and I sure as hell don’t want to be stuck in the woods with her.’ ”

“Sorry.” She shot him a fake smile. “My psychic abilities become depleted when surrounded by too much hot air and testosterone.”

He matched her fake smile with one of his own. “As a consultant, you would be the expert on hot air.”

“Ha ha. And don’t worry about being stuck in the woods with me. I know how to use a map and a compass. Plus, unlike the male of the species, I’m not afraid to ask for directions.”

“Ha ha to you, too. As for this orienteering bonding thing-it doesn’t matter that we don’t like the idea. Gavin wants it and that’s the way it is.” His gaze wandered down to her high-heeled patent leather pumps. “Are you going to be able to handle being in the woods?”

“Are you going to be able to handle having to ask me for help to get out of the woods?”

“I won’t need to ask for help. Or directions.”

“Typical. Do you know how many lost men have uttered that same statement?”

“No. But I don’t get lost. I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“Uh-huh. Ten bucks says you get us lost at least once.”

He raised his brows, then smiled. Damn, he had a great smile. No fair. “Deal. You realize you’ll never see that ten bucks.”

“If I don’t, it’s only because you’ve refused to admit that we’re lost.”

“Noooo,” he said as if she were in kindergarten. “It’s because of my superior directional abilities.”

“Right. Please, don’t mind me. I’m just looking at the ceiling. Really. Not rolling my eyes at all.”

“I promise that if I’m lost I’ll admit it.”

“Do you know how many lost men have uttered that same statement?”

He raised his hand, like a boy taking a scout’s pledge. “I am a man of my word.”

“Excellent. Then let’s make it twenty bucks. I need a new lipstick.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and something flickered in his eyes. Something that looked hot and raw and heated her from the inside out. Good grief, her sexual drought now had her imagining things, like a thirst-crazed person in a desert who sees a mirage of an oasis. But damn, that look affected her as if he’d actually caressed her, and she found herself moistening her lips.

And that time there was absolutely no mistaking the heat that flared in his eyes. Whoa. For the space of two erratic heartbeats he stared at her mouth as if she were a warm fudge brownie and he were craving sugar.

Then he blinked and shook his head, as if coming out of some sort of trance. Probably the same one that had clubbed her over the head. He obviously said something to her, because she saw his lips moving, but damned if she knew what it was. So she said the only word she could cough up.

“Huh?”

“Twenty bucks for a lipstick seems pretty steep.”

“Oh? You shop for many lipsticks?”

“No, I’m just making an observation. As a fiscally responsible CFO type.”

“Are you implying I’m fiscally irresponsible?”

“No. I’m just saying I think twenty bucks is a lot for a lipstick.

But I’m not surprised, coming from someone who plans an expensive weekend bonding deal at a resort.”

“Well, as a fiscally responsible consultant type, I can assure you it depends on the lipstick. Some are definitely worth it. And the weekend won’t cost nearly as much as years of unproductive interactions in the workplace.”

Again his gaze dropped to her lips, and for several seconds she couldn’t breathe. Then he frowned and handed her back her itinerary. “If you say so. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.”

“Of course.” She left his office, relieved to be away from whatever momentary madness had gripped her. She walked with her usual brisk pace back to her own office, and was halfway down the hallway when she felt the weight of someone’s stare. She looked over her shoulder and nearly stumbled when she noticed Jack leaning against his doorjamb, watching her. His expression appeared to be a combination of confusion and irritation.

She resumed her pace, and realized that’s precisely how she felt-confused and irritated. Why the heck had he, of all people, made her dormant hormones jump like they’d been zapped with a Taser? That was irritating. He was irritating.

And unfortunately, given their forced proximity during this upcoming weekend, she knew more irritation awaited her on the horizon.

Good thing she couldn’t stand Jack Walker. Because if she did… well, that would be really irritating.

Four

By the time Jack finally arrived at Casa di Lago Friday night, he was tired, annoyed, hungry, and thirsty. Thanks to computer problems his day at work had been stressful. He’d enjoyed a light, early dinner, but then courtesy of Atlanta’s notoriously heavy Friday night traffic, combined with the never ending road construction and a fender bender that blocked three lanes of the interstate, the hour-and-a-half drive to the resort had turned into a three- and-a-half-hour nightmare. All he wanted was a cold drink, some hot food, and some serious sleep.

After parking his car, he dragged his tired ass toward the resort’s curved archway entrance, pulling his black