Pushing His Luck Page 6

  “Think there will be any more?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Well, we are in a jungle so…”

  She sighed and slumped back into her seat, though she still kept as far from the window as she could. “I was afraid of that.”

  “No worries. We’ll get you a huge flyswatter or something you can carry around.”

  “Flyswatter? How about a machete.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  He used her shoe to scrape off what was left of the creature, but when he tried to hand the shoe back, she looked at it suspiciously.

  “Did you get it all off?”

  He frowned slightly, looking it over. “I think so. If not, I don’t think what’s left can hurt you.”

  She visibly shuddered. “Yeah, that’s not going to work for me.”

  He grinned again, although the sheepish squint of his eyes implied he at least felt bad about laughing at her pain. Not that she blamed him. She knew exactly how ridiculous she must look right then. And now that her heart rate was slowing to a more human range again, she could laugh at herself. Hell, if she wasn’t able to laugh at her antics, she’d never get through the day.

  “Sorry for the freak out,” she said.

  “Ah, no worries. I’ve dealt with far worse, believe me.”

  She shook her head. “Not possible.”

  “No, seriously. Throw a spider at Brooks and see what happens.”

  She laughed. “I’ll have to do that sometime. Though I doubt he’s ever jumped in your lap before.”

  “Not true. Brooks is…well, Brooks is Brooks. You’ll just have to take my word for it that jumping into my lap is one of the tamer things Brooks has done. Though, I will admit, he’s never done it in a moving car.”

  She smiled again, grateful he was being so cool about it and that he was dealing with the aftermath.

  He rubbed her shoe in the grass again, making sure nothing remained that might traumatize her. “I promise, it’s as clean as I can make it,” he said, presenting it over his arm like a waiter in a fancy restaurant presenting a bottle of wine.

  “Thanks,” she said, though she still looked at it like it might jump from his hands and bite her. The damn thing was covered in spider cooties now. It would have to be burned for sure.

  “Allow me,” he said. He bent and lifted her foot, slipping the sandal back on. His hand lingered on her leg, and she opened her mouth to comment on it, but her breath caught in her throat and a shiver ran down her spine in spite of the blazing heat.

  She should say something. Or pull her leg from his grasp. Or…do something other than sit there slowly strangling on the sensations his lingering fingers created.

  He finally seemed to notice he still held her leg, and he hastily let go and stepped back, jamming his hands in his pockets.

  Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but instead she gave him a small smile and a quiet, “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Well,” he said, clearing his voice and pulling out his phone, “I think we lost the rest of the group. I better call and…”

  The van pulled into sight before he could dial, and Brooks and Cole stuck their heads out the window.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Brooks asked, his amused gaze taking in Charley half reclined and sideways with her bare leg sticking out of the door and Chris’s guilty face.

  Chris shot him an irritated look. “Nothing.”

  “Everything okay out there?” Cole asked, his voice concerned but his face holding as much amusement as Brooks’.

  “Yep, fine. Just a minor pest problem,” Chris said.

  “Ah, come on, man. You aren’t that big of a pest,” Brooks said.

  The laughter from the rest of the van passengers floated out to them, and Charley bit her lip to keep from joining them. Chris closed his eyes and muttered something. Charley wasn’t sure, but he might have been counting to ten. Or praying for the strength to not kill his friends.

  He ignored the rest of the comments coming from the peanut gallery and looked down at her. “You good?”

  “Yes. As long as there aren’t any more of those things hanging out in here.”

  He leaned his large frame into the doorway. “I can’t promise that, but if there are, my lap is available whenever you need it.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but he just grinned and shut her door before hurrying around to the other side.

  This trip certainly wasn’t panning out the way she expected. Considering she needed to keep everything strictly business, that really wasn’t a good thing. And Chris wasn’t making it any easier.

  In fact, he’d been downright charming all day. Interesting, since he hadn’t wanted her along on the trip. So, either he really couldn’t help himself—which was possible—or he liked her too much to care—which was improbable. Or, more likely, he thought flirting would butter her up enough to get a good score on his risk assessment and get himself a glowing recommendation.

  She sighed and resolved again to keep her head out of Fantasyland and back on the ground where she belonged. She needed to focus on the assessment, get it done and over with, and get back to real life. And hopefully, to a promising new career. Then she could get away from Chris and all the confusion he caused in her head.

  Until then, she’d have to keep reminding herself what was at stake. No matter how much her hormones might want to convince her to the contrary, Chris wasn’t worth risking her career. Especially when the chances of him being interested in anything more than her professional stamp of approval were slim to none.

  She ignored the sharp sting of disappointment that thought caused and stuck her earbuds back in her ears.

  She had a life plan, and she was going to stick to it.

  Chapter Six

  Within the hour, they’d hauled all their luggage to Cass’s place and gotten settled into their rooms.

  Charley stood in the middle of her gorgeous suite, looking back and forth between the two rooms. They were both beautiful and more luxurious than anything she’d ever stayed in before.

  But one was obviously smaller and a bit more generic, containing a nice but normal four-poster double bed with a thin layer of mosquito netting and an upscale but run-of-the-mill bathroom. The other room boasted an incredible hand-carved four poster that would be right at home in a castle somewhere, along with yards and yards of luxurious netting, artfully draped around the king-sized bed that was piled high with the softest-looking pillows she’d ever seen.

  And the bathroom…she wandered over to take a peek and stopped short, sucking in a breath. The room was tiled in bright mosaics and sported a massive double-headed walk-in shower and a sunken bathtub that looked more like a small swimming pool. That decided her. Christopher Lachlan was a billionaire. He probably had ten bathrooms like this in his house and got to stay in rooms like this all the time. She didn’t. And she wanted that tub.

  She went back and got her bags from the common room between the suites and staked her claim in the master room. The guilt and anxiety gnawing at her at the audacity of choosing the better room when Chris would no doubt expect it nearly had her turning back. But another glimpse of that tub kept her where she was. In fact…she glanced down at her phone. She had no idea how long Chris would be gone, but as far as she knew, they didn’t need to be anywhere until dinner. She had the time. And she knew just how she’d use it.

  By the time the tub was filled with lavender-scented bubbles and steaming water, she had her bags unpacked and was ready to relax. The day had definitely not gone as she’d expected so far. But then nothing about this job had gone as expected. She’d thought she’d spend a day or two shadowing Chris around New York, watching him do whatever it was billionaires did on a workday. And then she’d write up her report, present it to his board and the reps from the insurance company, and be on her way. Hopefully, without any fallout from her slight deception.

  Her firm—ex-firm—would be pissed when they found out she’d done the asse
ssment, seeing as how she was no longer working for them. But they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it at that point, and both the insurance company and Lachlan Enterprises would be happy enough with her results that they wouldn’t question anything. That was the idea, anyway. Though, if she didn’t recommend Chris for insurance, things might go south fast. At least on his end.

  She tried not to think about that. He wasn’t the one she was there to impress. It was the insurance companies she needed to build a relationship with. They were the ones she’d be working with long term, the ones who would mostly be hiring her for assessments. Whether or not Chris was happy wasn’t something with which she needed to concern herself.

  Easier said than done, especially when she was on an all-expenses paid trip of a lifetime and sleeping half a room away from him.

  She pulled an armful of bubbles up to her chin, giving herself a bubble beard like she used to when she was a child. The popping bubbles tickled her nose but did little to dissipate the unease radiating through her at the whole situation. She shouldn’t have let herself get talked into this trip. It was so inappropriate on so many levels. Though Izzy had a point about it being a great way to see Chris in his natural habitat, as it were. Still…

  Charley scooped up more bubbles and gave herself a hat.

  “Oh! Sorry…” Chris’s voice sounded from the doorway, and Charley jumped with a squeak. Their eyes met for half a second before he quickly turned around.

  “Sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t realize you were in here…”

  “It’s fine,” she mumbled, pulling as many of the bubbles as she could gather to her chest. Not that he could see anything. She hadn’t been stingy with the bubble bath, and she was sunk to her chin in a sea of foam.

  “I’ll, uh, just wait outside for you,” he said, his voice almost shaking with amusement.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  “No rush.”

  No rush? Whatever. Like she could relax now.

  He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled the door shut behind him and gave her a sexy little half grin that had her stomach crashing to her toes. “That’s a good look on you.”

  Her jaw dropped, popping the bubble beard she’d forgotten about until that second.

  The second the door closed, she climbed out of the tub, brushing off as many of the bubbles from her body as she could before pulling on the plush robe that hung from the door. She made sure it was wrapped tight about her and hurried into the shared common room where Chris was lounging on the couch while perusing his phone.

  The moment she came into sight, he dropped it onto the table and smiled up at her. “Sorry about that. I expected you to be in the other room, and I didn’t see your bags when I entered so…” He shrugged, though everything about his demeanor screamed amused rather than contrite.

  As for her, her embarrassment evaporated on a wave of irritation at his assumption that she’d automatically leave the best room for him. Despite the fact that she’d been feeling guilty about not doing that herself just minutes before. Still, it was one thing for her to think it, another entirely for him to expect it.

  Her annoyance helped her gather her composure, and she was able to tuck her robe under her legs and sit primly and properly on the armchair next to the sofa. If it was one thing she’d learned from a lifetime of doing her utmost to remain in control at all times, it was to fake it until you make it. She’d just act confident and controlled until her equilibrium returned and she was composed in truth.

  She gave him what she hoped was a cool and collected smile. “I know the room I chose is slightly better than the other, but I am your guest, after all, and a rather unwilling one at that.”

  His eyebrow rose. “I’ve been accused of many things, Ms. Claybourne. Keeping unwilling women as guests has never been one of them. If you wish to return home, you have only to ask.”

  Her smile warmed a little at that. “Unwilling is probably the wrong word. Reluctant might be better.”

  He laughed. “That makes two of us. As for the room, I’m happy for you to stay in whichever one you wish. I am theoretically supposed to be trying to impress you, after all.”

  “Theoretically?” she asked with a slight head tilt. There was no theoretical about it. The man should be kissing her ass every chance he got considering how bad things looked for him at the moment.

  “Guess I need to up my game.”

  She gestured at the grand room behind her. “I think this already borders on over-the-top bribery. Upping your game might be downright criminal.”

  He chuckled. “One can hope. Sorry again for the whole Peeping Tom routine. I didn’t see your bags, so I guess I assumed…”

  “I’ve unpacked them. I despise living out of a suitcase.”

  He laughed again. “I don’t think my bag has been unpacked in over a year. I travel so much I just keep it packed at all times.”

  “Don’t you hate being on the road all the time?”

  He shook his head. “I love it. I get a little squirrely if I stay in one place too long. You don’t travel much?”

  “Not really. I mostly work in the city, and my family is spread out enough we don’t get together often. I’m a bit of a homebody, I guess. Give me a cozy blanket, a comfy couch, and a good book or show to binge and I’m happy,” she said.

  He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, to each his own.” He stood and grabbed a small duffle from the floor by the couch and headed to the smaller room. “Just a head’s up. If you hate going out, you’re not going to like tonight’s plans much.”

  “Why is that?” she asked, her stomach doing the familiar anxious flip that had her gripping the side of her chair. “Where are we going?”

  But instead of answering, Chris just gave her one of those devastating smiles that had her stomach flipping for all different reasons and disappeared behind his door.

  …

  Chris watched Charley’s face as they neared the entrance to the hotel where the casino was located. He couldn’t read her no matter how hard he tried. She seemed…confused maybe? There was a slight furrow to her brow, though she didn’t appear to be distressed. Maybe it’d been wrong to talk her into coming with them, but leaving her on her own seemed more wrong.

  He’d like to pretend it was because he didn’t want her finishing up her evaluation and sending off a damning report when he wasn’t paying attention, but that wasn’t it. He just didn’t like the thought of her sitting all by her lonesome in some foreign hotel while the rest of them were off having fun.

  She intrigued him. Everything about her was a walking contradiction. From outward appearances, he’d never think she had a moment’s doubt about anything. She seemed like a person who was in control and had her shit together at all times. Impeccable, tasteful clothing. Soft auburn hair falling past her shoulders in tamed, shiny waves that looked like they’d never been out of place. A calm, soothing voice that would probably pacify rabid tigers into lying down for a belly rub. Everything about her painted a picture of a classy, well-traveled, well-educated, worldly woman.

  And yet this same woman had fought him over a jug of milk that ended up all over the floor, broken a heel on soft carpeting, nearly crashed his plane, and been caught up to her neck in bubbles and nothing else in a tub he’d assumed was his. For someone so put together, a lot of stuff seemed to go wrong for her. But she dealt with it all remarkably well, he’d give her that.

  However, it also made it damn near impossible for him to figure out what was going on in her head. She was looking around at their surroundings with faint curiosity. He couldn’t tell if she was happy to be there, dismayed or scared, or just totally indifferent to it all.

  He was leaning toward indifferent when a flash of interest crossed her face and she made a beeline to the roulette table. Costa Rica’s gambling halls were definitely different from those in the States. Besides being smaller and generally more subdued, the games differed a bit.

 
Roulette was one of the more popular games. Well, the Costa Rican version of canasta, which was pretty much the same game only the ball was pulled from a big spinning basket like a good old-fashioned game of bingo. But they did have regular roulette tables, and Charley was already slapping some chips down on numbers and ignoring the scowling dealer who, like most dealers in Costa Rica, seemed to take pride in being rude to everyone. Though that was part of the ambience that made it fun. Once you got used to it.

  The ball clunked into the slot for Red 17, and a faint smile touched Charley’s lips. Wow. Coming from her, that was quite a reaction. If she’d been in Vegas, or any other person, he’d have expected an excited woot or some indication she was thrilled she’d just tripled her bet. But it was Charley they were talking about. And that sort of behavior was frowned on in the Costa Rican casinos, anyway. It was a good thing he’d been sure to warn her and his friends to dress down instead of glamming it up like many did in the States. Well-dressed gamblers were nothing but a huge Rob Me sign here. But even in shorts, sandals, and a simple V-neck white T-shirt, Charley still stood out in the crowd. The woman screamed class no matter what she was in.

  Even when she was in nothing but a bubble beard and hat floating in a pool of steaming water.

  He shook his head to try and get rid of that image, not that it did him any good. The glorious vision that was Charlotte-Leigh Claybourne in the tub was branded into his brain forever.

  And that was a big, big problem. Because the delectable Ms. Claybourne was off-limits. Inaccessible. Forbidden.

  And damn if that didn’t make him want her more.

  But since he really wanted to keep the company he’d busted his ass over for the majority of his adult life, he was going to have to keep his hormones in check and leave good ol’ Chuck alone.

  Another clunk of the ball and faint grin from Charley signaled another win. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed her luck seemed to have changed. A few surly gentlemen across the table from her shot unfriendly looks in her direction, and Chris was by her side before he’d consciously decided to move. She glanced up at him briefly before turning her attention back to the game.