Forever Flint

It seemed a possibility at this point. With Tour & Travel financing the entire expedition, further extravagance on Junior’s part wouldn’t surprise her at all.

“Junior isn’t that much of a spendthrift. Not when he’s not the recipient of his own largesse.”

Ashlinn looked over at Flint, startled. It was as if he’d read her mind.

They traded brief spontaneous smiles, then swiftly, rather guiltily, reset their frowns.

“You can leave the rest of your belongings in my office at company headquarters,” Flint said stiffly. “We’ll have to head there first tomorrow morning to get you fitted with hiking boots and some special socks and, uh,” he cleared his throat. “A few personal things the catalog carries, things that are specifically sized and designed for women”

“First? You don’t mean we’re going there before dawn, do you?”

“We have to. The other guys already have everything and will expect to leave on schedule. They arrived this afternoon, as Carmody advised everybody to do. You’re the only member of the group who insisted on taking a late flight in.”

“I didn’t insist. I was told the departure time and handed a ticket. And now I’ve got an assignment to complete, if I want to keep my job.”

She turned toward him. “Will you help me do that, Flint?”

It was the first time she’d said his name and the effect upon Flint was hot and instant. He shifted uncomfortably and hoped she wasn’t looking at his lap because his body wasn’t keeping any secret of his attraction to her. It responded reflexively, despite his attempt to will otherwise.

“I’ll—do what I can,” he mumbled, forbidding his eyes to look her way. He trained his gaze ahead, on the monotonous flow of traffic on the interstate.

“Good. Thank you. The first thing we need is to bring some other women along on this trip,” Ashlinn said briskly.

Flint tensed. She’d wrung a simple note of compliance from him, and already she was giving orders. She thought all she had to do was to whisper his name and he’d melt like a snowball in July. Well, Ashlinn Carey was in for a surprise. His sobriquet, “Iceman,” had been deservedly earned. He didn’t melt for anyone.

“More women? You want to make this trip into some kind of Beach Blanket Black Hills?” His voice lowered, his tone both cold and fierce. “Forget it, Ashlinn.”

This time she wasn’t charmed by his use of her name. “Do you really think I’m advocating some kind of Naked Singles romp in the great outdoors? Ha, you wish! All I mean is that we need more women on this trip to curb the bouts of macho male bonding and competition. You know they’re bound to occur.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped Flint. “I wonder if you do.”

“I certainly do. I know that one woman among five men is practically a nonentity. The five of you will forge ahead without me, you’ll do things I simply can’t. I know how guys act, I have an older brother and two stepbrothers. And I also know that having a balanced number of women in a group sets a different tone. The presence of women provides certain guidelines and constraints and limits to the. . .”

“You’re imparting the viewpoint of women-as-the-old-ball-and-chain? Interesting.”

“Of course, should you guys still insist on jumping off cliffs or swimming in hypothermia-inducing water, at least I’ll have some company picking berries while you’re doing it.”

Flint smirked. “Who would have thought a sophisticated big-city lady editor would attest to the stereotypes of action-oriented, risk-taking male and passive berry-picking female?”

“Who would have thought?” she echoed, not rising to the bait. “Will you call some women you know and ask them to come with us?”

“We leave tomorrow at dawn, remember? That’s not enough notice. Nobody can just pick up and leave so quickly.”

“You could at least try. Call your girlfriend. Won’t she jump at the chance to spend the next two weeks with you?”

Ashlinn attempted to ignore the flush that suffused her face and spread throughout her whole body. She wasn’t fishing for information, she assured herself; she was merely confirming the inevitable. Odds were great that a man like Flint Paradise—handsome and successful—did have a girlfriend. Maybe several

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Flint said bluntly.

A swell of joy surged through her followed by a rush of embarrassment. If he were to guess. . .

Ashlinn shuddered. “Then call some of the women, uh, you date casually,” she strove to sound blasé.

“I don’t date,” Flint growled through his teeth. “I don’t have the time for it. My work is my life. Paradise Outdoors is all I want and need. Is that so difficult to understand?”

Her eyes widened. “I get the feeling you’ve had this conversation before—with somebody who puts you very much on the defensive.”

“I’m not on the defen—” he abruptly paused, then breathed a sigh. “Okay, maybe I am, a little.”

“Who nags you about working too much and too hard?” Ashlinn pressed, curious. “Your parents? Mine accuse me of being too dedicated to my career. They have a ‘you’re letting life pass you by’ speech that I can recite word for word. I hear it almost every Sunday during our weekly phone calls.”

“My folks are both dead, so no, they don’t worry about my lack of a social life.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. Has to be a sister, then I know how sisters are, I have a younger one plus two stepsisters.”

“My sister is in her senior year in medical school, and she’s as devoted to her work as I am to mine No, Eva would never nag me, but my brother has been known to make some pointed comments about my priorities.”

“Brothers can be just as interfering as sisters,” Ashlinn conceded.

Flint angled a quick look at her.

A shaft of moonlight cast her delicate profile in relief. Stop it! he admonished himself Think of her as a customer, not a lovely desirable woman. Pretend she is Asher Carey and make trivial conversation. Become bored, immediately’

“You already mentioned a slew of brothers.” Listening to anyone drone on about their family normally had a narcotic effect upon him. Surely it would be no different with her, no matter how sexy she was. “How big is your family anyway?”

“Big. We’re a Brady Bunch-type clan. My mom had three kids when she married my stepdad, who had four.”

“Now there’s a prescription for disaster!” Flint exclaimed. Unfortunately, being startled and appalled was the antithesis of boredom.

Ashlinn looked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Because it’s so obvious. Keep in mind the Bradys are fictional characters, Ashlinn. In real life. . .”

“Things worked out well,” Ashlinn cut in. “The seven of us are all grown up and on our own and the folks are happily retired in Florida. See, a fairy-tale ending.”

“I don’t like fairy tales,” Flint growled. “Never have. I can’t suspend the disbelief.”

“How about sociology, then? The Careys are a successful case of a modern blended family.”

“Even fairy tales are more believable than that.”

“You couldn’t be this negative on the subject unless you’ve had some personal involvement with it.” Her interest was piqued. “Were you married to a woman with kids who. . .”

“God, no” His invocation of the Almighty was heartfelt. “I have never been married, nor do I intend to be. The whole point of marriage is to have a family and I already have more family than I know what to do with. The last thing I need or want is any more relatives.”

His vehemence amused her. “Who’s the worst?”

“Are you taking about relatives?”