# Forever Flint

Barbara Boswell

MEN of the YEAR MAN of the Month "If you're pregnant, we're getting married!" -Flint Paradise, CEO and surprised father-to-be After a single night of passion put Ashlinn Carey in the family way, millionaire businessman Flint Paradise acquired a very stubborn, pregnant bride. Ashlinn made it clear that unless his shotgun vows included loving and cherishing their baby, it wouldn't be a warm, willing wife he'd come home to.But the rugged loner didn't know the first thing about loving anyone . And with the sexiest woman he'd ever seen expecting his child, Flint wasn't about to wait nine months to start learning… . Some men are made for lovin' - and you'll love our MAN OF THE MONTH!

When The Stick Turned Blue, October’s Man Of The Month Turned White! Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Copyright

When The Stick Turned Blue, October’s Man Of The Month Turned White!

Flint had just conceded that coming to New York after Ashlinn had been a mistake when the bright blue-and-white box in her bathroom’s trash can caught his eye. The words printed on the box seemed to leap into Flint’s line of vision: Pregnancy Test. To burn into his consciousness. Nothing could have prevented him from picking up that box. From reading every word on it.

He heard a small gasp and looked up to see Ashlinn standing a few feet away, wearing old ripped jeans and a faded Yankees baseball shirt.

Flint spotted the plastic stick with the test result and snatched it up. “Congratulations. According to this, you’re going to be a mother. When were you going to tell me?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire—where you’re guaranteed powerful, passionate and provocative love stones that feature rugged heroes and spirited heroines who experience the full emotional intensity of falling in love!

This October you’ll love our new MAN OF THE MONTH title by Barbara Boswell, Forever Flint Opposites attract when a city girl becomes the pregnant bride of a millionaire outdoorsman.

Be sure to “rope in” the next installment of the exciting Desire miniseries TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB with Billionaire Bridegroom by Peggy Moreland. When cattle baron Forrest Cunningham wants to wed childhood friend Becky Sullivan, she puts his love to an unexpected test.

The always-wonderful Jennifer Greene returns to Desire with her magical series HAPPILY EVER AFTER Kiss Your Prince Charming is a modern fairy tale starring an unforgettable “frog prince ” In a sexy battle-of-the-sexes tale, Lass Small offers you The Catch of Texas. Anne Eames continues her popular miniseries MONTANA MALONES with The Unknown Malone And Shen WhiteFeather makes her explosive Desire debut with Warrior’s Baby, a story of surrogate motherhood with a twist.

Next month, you’ll really feel the power of the passion when you see our new provocative cover design Underneath our new covers, you will still find six exhilarating journeys into the seductive world of romance, with a guaranteed happy ending!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to

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Forever Flint

Barbara Boswell


www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARBARA BOSWELL

loves writing about families. “I guess family has been a big influence on my writing,” she says. “I particularly enjoy writing about how my characters’ family relationships affect them.”

When Barbara isn’t writing and reading, she’s spending time with her own family—her husband, three daughters and three cats, whom she concedes are the true bosses of their home! She has lived in Europe, but now makes her home in Pennsylvania. She collects miniatures and holiday ornaments, tries to avoid exercise and has somehow found the time to write over twenty category romances.

One

“I was told to look for the Paradise Outdoors sign at the gate. I’m Ash. . .”

“You’re Asher Carey?” Flint Paradise stared at the dark-haired, dark-eyed young woman standing before him and the sign he held, Paradise Outdoors, spelled out in bold black letters.

“Ihat can’t be right,” he replied to his own question.

Asher was definitely a male name, wasn’t it? Of course, these days, who knew? But she had to be in her twenties, and in the decade she’d been born in, parents had sensibly reserved masculine names for boys. Hadn’t they?

“No, my name is Ashlinn and. . .”

“I figured you weren’t Asher Carey.” Flint was relieved. It was imperative that she not be. He was here at the Sioux Falls airport to meet the flight of Asher Carey, the writer for Tour & Travel magazine, the male writer booked for the two-week Paradise Outdoors Company expedition.

“I’m from Tour & Travel magazine in New York, here for the Paradise Outdoors expedition,” she interjected.

This couldn’t be! Flint urgently flipped through the papers affixed to his clipboard. The name Asher Carey headed one sheet.

“See, here it is. Asher.” Flint showed her the paper, pointing at the name. “He’s the one booked on the trip.”

“Yes, it does say Asher,” Ashlinn Carey conceded with a shrug. “Maybe it’s a typo or something. I can show you all kinds of ID proving that I’m Ashlinn Carey and that I am with Tour & Travel. If you’d care to call the publisher, he will assure you this assignment is all mine.”

She appeared unflappable. No wonder. She considered the mixup to be a minor error. A typo! It was so much more than that, Flint decided grimly. What they were facing was a catastrophic case of mistaken identity. For not only was Ashlinn Carey a woman, she was a very pretty woman—and by the looks of her, a hip urban type who would be about as comfortable in the wild as a buffalo would be in a New York City magazine office.

And he was supposed to take her and four men besides himself camping in the Black Hills of Custer State Park for two weeks? Two weeks in the outdoors with an out-of-her-element city girl? Who looked. . . delicious, even after a long flight complete with layovers in two airports? Flint half expected his life to flash before his eyes, like a drowning victim going down for the last time.

The two stood facing each other.

“I don’t know how something like this could have happened,” Flint growled as he permitted himself another covert perusal of her, noting every one of her attributes.

There were many. Thick shiny hair, almost jet-black in color, sleek and straight and shoulder length. Wide-set coffee-brown eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. Good features, good face. He guessed that she’d never gone through an awkward, unattractive stage in her life. His kid sister Eva had been like that—adorable baby, darling kid, cute teen and, ultimately, pretty woman. But no further references to Eva applied, because the fierce jolt of arousal that suddenly struck him as he stared at Ashlinn Carey had nothing to do with brotherly admiration and everything to do with. . .well, arousal. Attraction. If he believed in the schoolboy fantasy of lust at first sight—which he didn’t, of course—it probably would feel a lot like this.

Flint tried to divert his unexpected attack of desire by redirecting his thoughts to something else. Something suitably distracting. He conjured up quick mental images of his teenaged half sisters, Camryn and Kaylin, who could always be counted on to infuriate him. But the mental trick didn’t work; the girls’ powers of annoyance faded in comparison to Ashlinn Carey’s considerable sensual draw.

He continued to gaze at her. The burgundy lipstick she wore looked freshly applied, perhaps moments before the plane had landed. The color accentuated the full, fine shape of her lips. She was wearing a one-piece black jersey outfit and a pair of ultra-fashionable black boots that added a few inches to her height. Still, at nearly six-four, he was considerably taller than she.

“You’re supposed to be a guy,” he said hoarsely.

How he wished she were! Barring that, it would’ve helped a lot if she didn’t have such an eye-popping figure, if she were one of those unappealing living toothpicks currently showcased in ads. Instead, Ashlinn Carey was soft and curvy in all the right places and projected a sultry allure without even trying. His skin felt uncomfortably warm, his entire body taut.

Ashlinn surveyed him coolly. “Well, I’m not a guy, am I? Are you Sam Carmody?”

“No.”

“You’re supposed to be.”

Flint assumed she was needling him with her argument about his identity, since he’d just done the same thing to her “I guess I had that coming,” he grumbled.

“My trip packet clearly states that Sam Carmody, the director of marketing for Paradise Outdoors, who is also in charge of this expedition, will meet my plane at the airport,” Ashlinn insisted.

“Carmody is in the hospital in traction for the next three weeks. Skateboard accident. The idiot,” Flint muttered under his breath before he could catch himself.

“You’re not very sympathetic. Three weeks in traction sounds awful.”

“I’ve been trying to be sympathetic since I got the bad news last night. But all I can think of is that any thirty-two-year-old man who tries to skateboard down the front steps of the high school is an idiot.” Flint grimaced. “I’m only a year older than he is, and I wouldn’t dream of going near a skateboard. Especially one day before the camping trip that’s been his own pet project from the start.”

“To be perfectly honest, I think I’d rather be in traction myself than to go to a place called the Badlands. I mean, the name itself says it all, doesn’t it? What can be good about going there?” Ashlinn smiled for the first time. “Since the trip is canceled, I’ll just book a flight back to New York and...”

“The trip is still on. The other four guys have already arrived and are raring to go. I’m the new leader of the pack, so to speak.”

Flint dragged his eyes away from her, a defensive move on his part because her smile had affected him tangibly, like a blow upside the head. He felt queerly disoriented.

Flint was appalled. And bewildered. First, the sight of her set his body on fire, then her smile literally dazed him. What was going on here? he wondered with a consternation mingled with alarm. He had never been the emotional type, succumbing to the impulses of a hot and instant physical attraction. He was a thinker, a planner, rational and controlled.

The last tune he’d been goaded into acting on impulse. . .

Flint frowned, remembering last year’s folly when his twin brother, Rafe, had persuaded him to pick up a blond businesswoman in a downtown hotel coffee shop. Within an hour, he had been back in his office, without ever laying a hand—or anything else—on the woman. He’d recognized that it was Rafe’s ribbing, not his own attraction to the blonde that had prompted his actions, and swiftly ended the impetuous date.

But Rafe hadn’t chided him about the lack of women in his life for months In fact, Rafe was so absorbed in his new marriage that Flint doubted that he even noticed his twin’s lack of a social life. No, he couldn’t blame his inconvenient impulses toward Ashlinn Carey on his brother.

Flint’s frown deepened. “Anyway, we’re not going to the Badlands, we’re going to the Black Hills. Since you’ve obviously not done your homework for this assignment, let me clue you in—they’re two different places.”

“Oh.” Ashlinn’s face flushed. “I. . . I was only recently given this assignment.”

“Sure” Flint made it clear that he didn’t believe her Great, just great. In addition to everything else, she was a slacker. As a devout workaholic, he couldn’t abide such behavior.

Ashlinn was looking none too pleased herself.

“Four other guys are taking this trip?” she asked succinctly. “I’m supposed to spend two weeks on an all-male adventure into the wild?”

Flint shrugged. “We took it for granted this trip was for men only. What woman reads a magazine like Tour & Travel? So why would they even have women writers on the staff?”

“Have you ever read Tour & Travel?” demanded Ashlinn. “Most of it is geared toward professional women who enjoy interesting weekend getaways and vacations to charming little places where. . .”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same magazine? Carmody showed me a copy, and it was geared toward—well, guys like Carmody.”

“Thirty-two-year-old idiots who skateboard with teenagers,” Ashlinn said darkly.

“Men who are free from domestic responsibilities and have a penchant for adventure and challenge,” Flint found himself lapsing into the marketing-speak of Carmody himself. “And who also have plenty of disposable income to spend on the specialty items that Paradise Outdoors sells.”

“And that would be skateboards and other toys for the alleged adult male?” Ashlinn inquired sarcastically.

“Let’s stick to your magazine and its focus—whatever that is,” countered Flint. “For starters, redefine what you mean by ‘charming.’ Because if it involves things like running water and gourmet dinners and shopping, none of those were in last month’s issue of Tour & Travel.”

“Oh no, last month’s issue!” Ashlinn heaved a groan. “I’d actually managed to forget about it. Or maybe it’s simply pure denial. That issue was the first one to come out under the. . .new publisher. He’s changed the entire format, the entire concept of the magazine. Everything is different now.”

“I see. Sort of.” Flint gazed quizzically at her. “That still doesn’t explain why the magazine sent you out here. I can’t imagine that Carmody wasn’t clear about this being an all-male excursion.”

“Well, I guess the ‘Asher’ could have been a typo. But I’m becoming more and more convinced that he—Presley Oakes Jr., the new publisher of T & T—did this on purpose.” Ashlinn’s deep-brown eyes flashed fire. “It would be exactly like him to pull a stunt like this, first assigning me to write an article, then making it about a testosterone-fueled trip into some godforsaken wilderness.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you don’t much care for your new boss,” Flint said dryly.

She drew a sharp breath. “I was a senior editor at the magazine until Junior’s father bought it and turned it over to him. Do you know what it’s like to work for a boss who’s just celebrated his twenty-third birthday?”

“Twenty-three, huh?” Flint wondered what response she was expecting. Weren’t women notoriously touchy about their age? He cleared his throat. “Er, I guess that makes him younger than you?”

“Duh!”

“I was trying to be tactful,” Flint defended himself.

“You needn’t bother. I’m not ashamed of my age, which is five years older than Junior. Five pivotal, crucial years!”

“I’m guessing things got off to a rocky start when Junior took the helm,” Flint surmised. “So he’s making a senior editor write about a camping trip, and to top it off, he sends a female to go with a bunch of guys. Yeah, things are beginning to fall into place now.” Flint nodded his head knowingly. “Too bad Paradise Outdoors got dragged into Junior’s scheme to get rid of you. Wait until I talk to Carmody! He should’ve picked up on the. . .”

“There is no scheme to get rid of me!” cried Ashlinn.

“No?” Flint arched his brows. “If you’re so secure in your position, then why didn’t you refuse this assignment? It doesn’t sound like you were very enthused about it, even before you got here and found out it was men only.”

“That’s not true, I. . .”

“Shall I quote yourself to you? ‘The Badlands, the name itself says it all’ . . .‘what can be good about going there?’ Let’s not forget ‘some godforsaken wilderness.’ And then there was your unsurpassed glee when you assumed the trip was canceled. You actually smiled.”

He remembered the flash of sexual heat her smile had inspired in him. He’d better make sure that didn’t happen again.

Ashlinn’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, you’re right. I wasn’t looking forward to the trip. And I . . . didn’t do much reading about the state of South Dakota so I thought the Black Hills were in the Badlands, not separate areas. No offense.”

“None taken. Not too much, anyway. So you felt you couldn’t just say no when you were given the assignment?”

“One doesn’t say ‘no’ to Junior and still have a job. So far I’ve survived the purge that followed his takeover.” She heaved a sigh.

“Sounds bad. Why haven’t you quit?” Flint was genuinely curious.

She made a wry face. “I have this practical side that asserts itself, reminding me that I can’t afford to be unemployed. I’ve barely made a dent in my student loans and I have other key bills to. pay—you know, like food and rent. I’d really hate to give up eating and live on the streets.”

“Cheer up, this expedition should definitely broaden your options. You’ll learn survival skills so you can live off the land.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“Well, yes.” Flint’s lips twitched. “I thought a little humor couldn’t hurt.”

“You might notice that I’m not laughing.” She glowered at him.

There was nothing remotely humorous about her predicament, Ashlinn mused glumly. As if this assignment from the little weasel who’d pronounced T & T’s format—and staff—stale and stodgy and too old weren’t bad enough, it was now quite clear that she was unwelcome on the expedition. The group leader was as eager to be rid of her as Junior was to replace her at Tour & Travel with one of his young buddies.

Well, she wasn’t going to give either one the satisfaction of her quitting!

Ashlinn clutched her overnight bag so tightly that her fingers ached. To say that she hadn’t been looking forward to this trip was definitely an understatement. She’d always loathed Carey family camping vacations while growing up, and as an adult gladly avoided places where sleeping bags, cooking over an open fire and applying mosquito repellent by the quart were required.

Now this. Plus, she was to be the only female among a gang of would-be Daniel Boones bent on exploring the wilderness with high-tech gadgets and equipment. Could it get any worse?

It could.

“We’re scheduled to leave at dawn tomorrow,” said Flint.

“Dawn?” Ashlinn echoed, dismayed. “Why so early? It’s not like the Badlands—uh, the Black Hills—are going anywhere. They’ll still be there if we leave at a decent hour in the morning.”

“Dawn is the decent hour to begin this trip,” Flint said firmly “We have to drive nearly the length of the state to reach the campgrounds.”

Ashlinn glanced at her watch. It was already past ten—and that was Central Time Her body was still operating on Eastern Standard Time, which made it a whole hour later.

“Where’s the baggage claim?” she asked wearily. “I’ll collect my luggage and then we can get out of here.” She was booked into a motel tonight and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and try to get some sleep before the odious dawn departure.

“Luggage?”

“You look as if you’re unfamiliar with the concept.” Ashlinn’s patience was wearing very thin.

“How much luggage?” His testy tone matched hers

“Just two suitcases,” she began defensively. “I. . .”

“Well, you’ll have to leave them behind. We’re only bringing what we can carry in the extended-journey-size backpacks. Everybody is receiving identical ones, courtesy of Paradise Outdoors”

Ashlinn stared at the man who was not marketing chief Sam Carmody. His eyes, black as obsidian chips, were watching her closely, no doubt to gauge her reaction to his latest pronouncement. He was openly trying to discourage her; he was still hoping that she would bail out of the torturous fate awaiting her.

Not that she didn’t want to.

But that practical side of her nature dismissed the misery of rising before dawn and lugging a heavy-duty backpack through rugged terrain. She really had no choice. The raise she’d been counting on had fallen through when Tour & Travel had been sold, and her living expenses seemed to be increasing, though she’d actually cut back her spending. She hadn’t eaten out once since Presley Oakes Jr. took over the magazine, and in a city of great restaurants like New York, that was a cruel hardship indeed.

But the prospect of unemployment was far worse.

If she were fired, the benefits she would be eligible for wouldn’t come close to making ends meet. And if she quit her job, she wouldn’t get a cent from anywhere Either way, she would have to leave New York. . .

She couldn’t leave New York, she wouldn’t! Ashlinn resolved once again. She loved the city; living there had always been her dream and an obnoxious little twerp like Presley Oakes Jr. wasn’t going to drive her away. Neither was the replacement for the hapless Sam Carmody.

She was going on this trip, she would write the wretched article and keep her job. She would show this outdoor fanatic that she could survive in the wilderness, and when she returned to the office she would outlast Junior, who was bound to grow bored playing a magazine publisher. As it was, he had nothing in common with the adults on the T & Tstaff, and seemed to spend most of his time at work playing computer games in his office.

An invigorating wave of hostility washed over her. “Who are you, anyway?” she demanded.

“Flint Paradise, president and CEO of Paradise Outdoors.”

“And you have the time to take over the role of group leader into the wild, even though you’re the president and CEO of a company?” She regarded him suspiciously. “Doesn’t sound like your presence is exactly vital to your business. Or maybe your company doesn’t do much business? Is this trip a desperation measure to garner some kind of. . .”

“Paradise Outdoors is having a banner year,” Flint cut in testily. She’d clearly struck a nerve with her jibes at his company. “Furthermore, I’m viewing the next two weeks as a paid vacation, the first I’ve ever taken.”

“Translation—you couldn’t get anybody else to go,” taunted Ashlinn. “That certainly bodes well for this trip.”

Flint was irked. How had she guessed that his entire senior staff had opted out of the trip, citing irrevocable family plans and obligations, an excuse they knew he couldn’t give? Still, he was loathe to admit that to her.

“Why wouldn’t I take advantage of an all-expenses-paid trip? Because the entire expedition, including guide fees, has been bankrolled by your magazine.”

Ashlinn was momentarily taken aback. “It has?”

“It has” Flint started walking toward the baggage claim area.

Automatically, Ashlinn trotted alongside him. “Junior didn’t mention that Tour & Travel was financing the trip.”

“Well, you are. Carmody arranged the logistics of the expedition, but Tour & Travel is footing the bill for everybody. Paradise Outdoors will also get a year’s free advertising in the magazine and publicity for the products used, because you’ll be writing about them in your article.”

They came to stand beside a revolving carousel, waiting for the luggage to appear.

“Let me make sure I have this right—Tour & Travel is funding this camping trip and giving the Paradise Outdoors Company free advertising for a year plus free publicity for products sold by the company?” Ashlinn said carefully “What exactly does the magazine get out of this deal?”

“That’s what I asked Carmody.” Flint shrugged. “He told me the publisher said Tour & Travel wanted the article badly and thought it was worth paying for.”

“I see.” Boy did she ever! Junior hates me and is hoping I’ll either quit or get permanently lost in the wilderness, Ashlinn thought grimly. He’d consider that worth paying for, especially since it was his daddy’s money, not his own, that he was throwing around.

“Carmody had all the proper contracts signed so I had no objections to this trip—until now,” Flint added, narrowing his eyes. “Now, I not only have objections, I have grave reservations.”

“Oh, I had those from the start,” muttered Ashlinn.

They watched in silence as baggage from the flight began to slide down the chute onto the carousel. Ashlinn quickly claimed hers, two matching top-brand suitcases that she’d purchased on sale. She was an excellent shopper, tracking down bargains, finding quality merchandise at the lowest prices. It was a talent that wouldn’t come in too handy on this particular trip, she acknowledged ruefully.

“Let’s go.” Flint handed her his clipboard and his sign and lifted a suitcase in each hand. He grimaced at the weight.

She decided to beat him to the punch with, “Go on, make the predictable tired old quip about rocks being in there. How about asking me if I packed everything but the kitchen sink?”

“Did you?” He headed toward the doors. “Now it’s your turn to laugh politely at the lame joke.”

“Ha, ha,” she said. “Was that polite enough?”

Though he carried the two heavy bags, he was striding along at a rate that made her half run to keep up with him. They left the terminal and headed toward the parking area, eventually reaching a champagne-colored Saturn.

Flint proceeded to load her bags into the trunk.

“I guess we won’t be taking this car into the Bad Hills,” Ashlinn said. She sounded nervous, even to herself.

She was nervous. Because it had just occurred to her that she was expected to climb inside this car with this man, whom she hardly knew. At night, in an unfamiliar city. She was too well-versed in stranger danger not to be uneasy. Alarm quickly followed. What should she do?

“That would be the Black Hills,” corrected Flint. He opened the passenger door for her and stood there, waiting for her to get in. “And you guessed right. My car stays home. We’re taking a big van with four-wheel drive and tires sturdy enough for the roughest terrain.”

Ashlinn hesitated beside the door and began to leaf through the pages on the clipboard, stalling for time. She couldn’t bring herself to move, let alone get into the car where the two of them would be alone together in the darkness.

She skipped over the ‘Asher Carey’ page and read aloud the names on the other four sheets. “Jack Hall. Etienne Bouvier. Rico Figueroa. Koji Yagano. They’re the other ones going on this trip?”

Flint nodded. “Hall is Australian, Bouvier is French, Figueroa from Argentina and Yagano from Japan. Each writes freelance articles for men’s travel-outdoor-adventure magazines in his own country.”

“Then there’s me, from the USA. The group is a veritable United Nations of travel magazines.” Ashlinn managed a faint smile.

“And Paradise Outdoors will get advertising and publicity in all those magazines. This trip of Carmody’s really was a good idea, and getting Tour & Travel to finance the whole thing took extraordinary salesmanship.” Flint’s irritation with his injured marketing chief appeared to soften.

“My entire staff is committed to taking the company into the global marketplace I don’t know how much you know about Paradise Outdoors, but we’ve grown from a small niche company selling specialized travel gear by catalog to a broader inventory and national customer base. Now we’re headed worldwide.” Flint’s face lighted with enthusiasm as he talked about his company. Ashlinn found herself studying him, and as she watched and listened, her fear was transformed into something else entirely. All of a sudden, she was excruciatingly aware of everything about him.

Like his height. He literally towered over her, and in her boots with their three-inch heels, she was nearly five-eight, which wasn’t exactly short.

He was strong too; he’d proven that by whisking along her ten-ton suitcases like feather pillows. The short sleeves of his white cotton shirt revealed the hard muscles of his arms.

Ashlinn swallowed hard He was tall and strong—and then there was the additional matter of his looks. Somehow, those hadn’t registered until now, either. He was very handsome, not to mention virile-looking.

Her mouth was dry. “Tall, dark, and handsome” was a cliché, but definitely applied to him. Words were her stock-in-trade, and Ashlinn realized she could come up with a thesaurusfull to describe Flint Paradise.

He seemed to be expecting some response from her. Floundering in the mind-shattering seas of sexual awareness, Ashlinn couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“My father started the business thirty years ago, and I took over as CEO after his death seven years ago. My staff instituted the full-color catalog, expanded the inventory and the mailing list and got a website on the Internet for cybersales. We’re well situated to take Paradise Outdoors into the millennium,” Flint proudly volunteered, with no prompting from her.

“Paradise is an unusual name, a good one for your company,” Ashlinn finally came up with something to say, but she winced upon hearing it aloud. Could that really be her? She sounded like a simp! Self-consciousness struck, accompanied by an adrenaline rush. Mature women of twenty-eight did not develop instant crushes, did they? Yet she was behaving as if that was exactly what had just happened to her.

Thank heavens Flint seemed unaware of it.

“We were told our great-grandfather chose the name Paradise,” he explained. “The chief was a Lakota Sioux and liked the sound of that particular Anglo word, so he decided to use it for his name.”

Flint’s eyes locked with Ashlinn’s.

“Lakota Sioux? Like in Dances with Wolves?”

“Yeah.” Flint gave a laugh. “I keep forgetting about that movie, but people, especially women, keep reminding me.”

Ashlinn suspected he was laughing at her but carried on anyway. “There’s a certain chic to being Native American,” she suggested.

Not to mention romance, added a teasing little voice in her head. And he does conjure up thoughts of romance, doesn’t he?

She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from Flint Paradise. He had a long straight nose, high cheekbones, a well-shaped mouth and his skin was the color of polished bronze. He really did bear a resemblance to a hero on the cover of an historical romance novel—not that she read them, she preferred her history straight and factual, not plagued by love. There were a few key differences, of course. Flint’s thick glossy black hair was cut short, and she was fairly certain that the male cover models wore theirs long and untamed. And Flint’s white designer polo shirt and khaki trousers were a far cry from the loin cloths and feathers favored on the book covers.

“Dad was Sioux and Mom was Irish,” Flint recited his bloodlines with a nonchalant shrug. “And my brother and sister and I prefer the term Indian to Native American. Just a personal preference, not a political statement either way”

She nodded her head, gazing into eyes that were almond-shaped and black as coal. When he looked at her the way he was doing now, his heated gaze seemed to liquefy her insides.

“We have to get going,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm. “Get in.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to balk, to refuse and run back into the airport terminal.

It would be for the best if she did, he decided, because just standing here looking at her during this time-filling, time-wasting conversation was turning him on so fast and so hard that the prospect of spending additional time with her, of sharing a tent with her. . .

That stunning realization struck him for the first time. The six men booked for the trip were to sleep in pairs in three tents. Hall was matched with Yagano, Bouvier with Figueroa, Sam Carmody with Asher Carey.

Which meant that Flint Paradise was assigned a tent with Ashlinn Carey! He was supposed to sleep in closest proximity to her for the next two weeks’

Flint removed his hand at the same moment she jumped back. He could still feel the softness of her skin under his palm, and he robotically flexed his fingers. That he had touched her at all was uncharacteristic of him. He wasn’t the touchy-feely sort, given to casual physical contact. Yet he’d reached out and taken Ashlinn by the arm, which practically qualified as an intimate act for him! Such behavior was way out of line, Flint reproved himself. After all, the arrangement between Tour & Travel magazine and Paradise Outdoors made them colleagues, professionals working together.

But then, she was supposed to be Asher Carey, a red-blooded man’s man, not Ashlinn, an irresistible temptress.

They couldn’t go on this trip together. It was as simple as that. Now, all he had to do was to tell her so, to cancel the entire excursion and reimburse Tour & Travel and the other four members of the expedition.

Ashlinn moistened her lips. His touch seemed to be seared onto her skin like a brand. She could still feel the warmth and strength of his big hand. She couldn’t stay, she decided. Not when she felt this forceful attraction to Flint Paradise. It was both scary and thrilling, like being on a roller coaster heading toward the top of a precipitous drop at warp speed.

Ashlinn had always hated roller coasters.

She would tell him that she was leaving Sioux Falls, that she was going back into the terminal right now, and no, he needn’t bother to help her carry her suitcases back inside, thanks very much. She was going to fly back to New York tonight if she had to go by way of Seattle to do so.

But despite the decisive plans being concocted in their heads, neither Flint nor Ashlinn spoke a word

Flint continued to hold the door for her, and she slipped into the front seat of the car, watching as he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed inside.

Both simultaneously buckled their seatbelts The clicks of the metal clasps were the only sounds heard within the confines of the car.

Flint turned the ignition key and the engine kicked into gear

They were on their way.

Two

“Earlier this evening, I got the key to your motel room and put some of your new Paradise Outdoors gear in there,” Flint said at last, breaking the silence between them.

It was rare for him to take the lead in making conversation, but he felt that need now. Ashlinn’s presence was galvanizing.

“You have the key to my room?”

He could guess what she must think. “I didn’t keep it, of course. I turned it back in at the desk,” he assured her hastily.

Suddenly a vivid erotic fantasy flashed to mind, featuring himself slipping the key into the lock and entering her room where she waited for him in the darkness, lying on the bed wearing nothing but a drowsy, welcoming smile.

Flint coughed and gave his head a quick shake. Luckily, his mind cleared.

“You’ll have to repack, using our extended-journey backpack.” It was a command, not a suggestion.

“You actually expect me to take two weeks’ worth of clothes and supplies from my two full-size suitcases and stuff it all into a backpack?” Ashlinn sounded edgy and incredulous.

But she was glad they were talking again. Sitting in total silence while the car whizzed along the interstate highway left her too much time to imagine what lay ahead. Already a nervous anticipation was building within her.

“Yes, I actually expect you to do that, Ashlinn.”

The sound of her name on his lips stunned her back into silence.

It was stupid to get so rattled because he’d simply called her by her own name, Ashlinn admonished herself. Except calling her by name made things between them seem personal.

And of course, there was nothing personal between them; there was absolutely nothing between them at all. This foolish crush she seemed to have developed on him was certainly one-sided and didn’t count. She’d better quash it fast, before she truly humiliated herself.

“Where will I keep my suitcases and the things left behind in them?” Ashlinn was pleased that her voice sounded crisp and efficient, no small feat when she still felt like a dazed schoolgirl. “Do I have the hotel room for the full two weeks?”

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?”

She nodded. “If my family were polled, I’m sure I’d win the title of The Worst One. I was an overly dramatic child and a sarcastic, bratty teen. I like to think I’ve improved as an adult, but I’m afraid that among my relatives, my reputation is set in cement.”

“Your family has yet to experience the worst,” Flint assured her. “My two half sisters hold the Worldwide Worst title. Of course, their late unlamented mother made Lucrezia Borgia look like a real sweetheart, so they come by it naturally, I suppose.”

“If their black-hearted mom wasn’t yours too, that means you shared the same father,” Ashlinn surmised easily.

“Yes, Ben Paradise.” Flint’s black eyes were hard. “A year after my mother’s death, Dad married Marcine, who spawned Camryn and Kaylin.”

“Sounds like you’re still holding a grudge against her for that.”

“Among other things. And after observing my father’s misery with Marcine, I have no desire to experience the gothic horror known as marriage first-hand.”

Ashlinn wasn’t sure if she ought to offer a counterargument. Emphasizing the success of her family seemed insensitive at best, boastful at worst, when Flint’s own fell into the dysfunctional category.

They both lapsed into a silence which soon grew oppressive to Ashlinn.

“Now that you’re all adults, do you ever see your half sisters?” she asked. She knew how easy it would be to sever family ties as an adult; she had to make a special effort to keep in touch with her own siblings and steps, who were scattered all over the country. She did it willingly. But then, she didn’t consider any of them to be satanic spawns. Hopefully, they no longer saw her as one.

“Camryn and Kaylin aren’t adults, they’re teenagers and live with my brother here in town.” His tone was dour. “So I see them.”

“They’re in Sioux Falls?” An idea, born of desperation, suddenly dawned on her. “We could ask them to come camping with us tomorrow!”

“Have you heard a word I said?” Flint was astounded. “Why in the world would I take those two hellions camping? I wouldn’t take them anywhere! I can barely make it through an occasional dinner at my brother’s home with them, let alone two full weeks of. . .”

“But we need more females on the trip, and you haven’t come up with anybody else. Anyway, chances are better for teens to be able to go somewhere at the last minute than for. . .”

“Absolutely not!” Flint cut in again. “If you knew Camryn and Kaylin, you would realize how truly terrible your idea really is.”

“Introduce me to them,” Ashlinn said boldly. “If they’re as bad as you say, then obviously, I won’t want them along. But if you’re harboring some kind of grudge against two perfectly normal kids just because you didn’t like their mother marrying your father, then I want them on the trip.”

“Lady, if you’re trying to infuriate me, you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest expectations”

“I’m beginning to believe I’m on the right track,” countered Ashlinn. “After all, they live with your brother. He must like them, so how awful can they be? Unless you can’t stand your brother, either?”

“I love my brother!” Flint declared with a fervor that touched her. “But unfortunately, he has an exaggerated sense of duty. In fact, Rafe is probably the most dutiful person on the planet. He took in the girls after their mother died three years ago and kept them, even though they’ve wreaked havoc on his life.”

“Hmm,” said Ashlinn.

“You don’t believe me?” Flint was indignant. “Okay, I’ll let you be the judge. I’ll take you to Rafe’s house and you can meet the girls. One minute in their company will have you convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t want to spend another one. They’re all night owls, so we can just drop in.”

His tone was so ominous that Ashlinn felt more than a little apprehensive. Did she really want to meet two bad seeds? She buoyed her courage by thinking of Junior, the boy boss. If she could endure working for him day after day, taking a few minutes to assess Flint’s allegedly demonic half sisters would be a breeze.

Flint was heartily regretting his rash challenge by the time he turned onto Deer Trail Lane, a tree-lined street in a well-tended housing development. Bringing Ashlinn here was stupid beyond imagining, but since he’d let her goad him into it, he could only blame himself. His jaw clenched.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Ashlinn remarked politely as they drove along the long street.

“My brother used to own half a duplex farther down this road, but he bought a single-family house a few months ago. Seems like he’s always working on the place. His latest project is to convert the garage into an extra room.”

Flint sighed wistfully, remembering better days, when Rafe had plenty of spare time to spend with him and Eva. Not anymore. It had been months since the three of them had gone out to dinner together or taken in a movie

“I’m assuming he got a bigger place because of the half sisters you can’t stand?” Ashlinn couldn’t resist mentioning the obvious.

“Not just for them,” Flint protested halfheartedly. “Rafe got married last Thanksgiving and his wife wanted more room too.” He pulled into the double driveway of a big two-story house. “In addition to the girls, they have two foster kids, little boys, Trent and Tony.”

“They’ve only been married for about eight months and they have four kids living with them?” Ashlinn was impressed. “Your brother sounds wonderful, a guy like my stepdad. It takes a very special kind of man to share his life and his wife, especially with kids who aren’t his own.”

“Yeah.” Flint, who truly loved and admired his brother, felt an ignoble rivalrous niggling as she rhapsodized about Rafe, which was odd, because he was always the one to lead the chorus of praise for Rafe. It was unnerving to consider the possibility that he wanted to hear Ashlinn rave about Flint Paradise. Unnerving and alarming as hell!

And worse was yet to come

Ashlinn was out of the car and halfway to the front door of the house when she noticed that Flint was lagging behind. Quite purposefully, it seemed to her.

“A prisoner on his way to the electric chair probably keeps the same pace you’re doing right now,” she observed dryly, pausing to wait for him to catch up to her.

“I probably should warn you.” Flint cleared his throat.

He arrived to stand beside her, not realizing how closely until their shoulders brushed. It was unlike him to invade someone’s personal space; he normally kept a definitive distance between himself and another. Not this time. When he turned slightly, the entire length of their arms were touching, and his hand skimmed hers.

But Ashlinn made no move away from him. “About what?” she murmured.

Flint remained where he was. He inhaled deeply, and the aroma of her shampoo, a tantalizing spicy scent, filled his nostrils. He fixed his eyes on her glossy black hair that looked so soft and silky it took considerable restraint to keep himself from touching it. Stroking it.

“I guess I should warn you that this might prove to be awkward in more ways than one.” His voice lowered. “You see, there is—something of a strain between Rafe’s wife, Holly, and me.”

Ashlinn looked up at him, her dark eyes illuminated in the bright porch-lights. “Is it her fault? Or yours?”

He was instantly annoyed. “If you’re looking to incriminate someone, don’t choose Holly. She isn’t to blame for anything. I’m the one at fault.” He strode toward the door, his head held high and proud.

“I wasn’t trying to incriminate anybody.” Ashlinn scurried after him. “I was just trying to get a better handle on the situation.”

They reached the small porch. She stumbled as her heel caught on the top step, and automatically, Flint reached out to catch hold of her waist, steadying her. Ashlinn laid her hands on his forearms, bracing herself.

She lifted her head and their eyes met. Their position was not unlike that of a couple on the verge of a kiss, in those first early uncertain seconds of contact before moving into each other’s arms.

Ashlinn’s heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears. “Thanks. I—I’ve been warned that the heels on these boots will end up killing me.”

“They aren’t at all practical.” Flint frowned his disapproval. “Paradise Outdoors would never carry such useless merchandise. Luckily, you’ll get a much better, functional pair of boots tomorrow.”

His fingers tightened briefly on the curve of her waist, then he dropped his hands and stepped away from her, out of touching range.

She could feel the phantom pressure of his hands on her. Ashlinn told herself she wasn’t disappointed, she was relieved he hadn’t tried to kiss her. She wouldn’t have allowed him, of course; after all, she hardly knew him.

But he hadn’t even tried . . .

“You were about to tell me about the—the strain between you and your sister-in-law,” she reminded him.

Her body was still pulsing with the urgency he’d roused—and left unslaked. Had he been affected by their proximity at all? she wondered. Since he’d half turned away from her, she couldn’t clearly observe him. Yet he seemed calm enough. She was the one whose breathing was closer to panting.

Ashlinn looked away from him, forcing herself to study the decorative grapevine wreath on the front door. Red, white and blue ribbons were woven through it, presumably in homage to last week’s Fourth of July holiday.

“About Holly . . .” Flint was struggling with his own urgency and control.

What better way to quell desire than to remember how wrong he’d been about Holly? If he were ever asked to cite his turnoffs, being wrong would head the list.

“I made the drastic mistake of jumping to all the wrong conclusions about Holly when my brother first got involved with her,” he said dolefully. “Unfortunately, I shared my opinions with Rafe and strongly advised him against marrying her.”

“Been there.” Ashlinn gave a rueful sigh. “Done that—twice. I zealously warned both my sister Courtney and my stepsister Michelle not to get involved with the men they ended up marrying.”

“Twice?” repeated Flint.

“I didn’t learn from my mistake the first time.” Ashlinn did not spare herself. “I didn’t let Courtney’s marital success keep me from insisting that Michelle was doomed to misery. I bet if Eva started dating someone seriously, you’d think long and hard about shoving your negative opinions down her throat.”

“Yes,” agreed Flint. “I certainly would.” He couldn’t envision himself making the same mistake twice.

A peculiar sense of relief was surging through him. His gross misjudgment of Holly continued to plague him, but hearing that Ashlinn had fallen prey to similar errors twice was oddly heartening.

“I told Rafe that Holly was a calculating manipulator,” he dared to confess.

Ashlinn remained unshocked. “I told Courtney and Michelle that Connor and Steve were insincere users, the kind of smooth operators who would dump them and break their hearts And both guys turned out to be model husbands and fathers, devoted to their wives and children My stepbrother said I was a sour pessimist and my own brother told me I was jealous of Courtney and Michelle.” She winced.

“Why don’t people appreciate good old-fashioned caution these days? Just try to exercise it, and others completely misunderstand your motives!” Flint was incensed on her behalf. “I’ve only spent a short tune with you, but I can certainly tell that you’re neither sour nor pessimistic.”

“Thanks,” murmured Ashlinn. “I’m not jealous of Courtney and Michelle either. Honest.”

“I believe you.” He took a deep breath. “I originally saw Holly as a schemer with an agenda and thought it was my brotherly obligation to tell Rafe what he was up against.”

“Let me guess what happened,” Ashlinn said wryly. “Holly turned out to be the ideal wife for your brother.”

“She turned out to be a saint!”

Ashlinn smiled at the hyperbole. “You have to be dead to be a saint, Flint, that’s the rule.”

“Well, Holly is a living saint,” Flint insisted. “She’s a doctor, a psychiatrist who’s established a solid practice and is respected and admired by the medical community here. Even more important, she’s made my brother happier than I’ve ever seen him. And she’s committed to those four impossible kids who aren’t even hers.”

“She does sound like a paragon. Seems like you and I have both proven how perceptive we are when it comes to love and romance,” Ashlinn said lightly. “Which is to say, not at all. We’re definitely better off dedicating our energy to our careers.”

“Yes.” Flint nodded his agreement. “But I have to admit that hearing you made the same mistake I did—twice—makes me feel less like a paranoid lunatic.”

Her dark eyes gleamed “If I’m not a sour jealous pessimist, you certainly aren’t a paranoid lunatic.”

They stared at each other, their expressions conveying mutual understanding, mutual acceptance. Both took an unconscious step closer.

“Eewww! Look who’s lurking around our house!” A piercing young voice sharply broke the aura of intimacy enveloping them. Seemingly from nowhere, a Jeep Cherokee had appeared, and emanating from it was that girlish voice of pure disdain.

Flint and Ashlinn jumped apart, almost to opposite ends of the small porch. The vehicle came to a screeching halt m the driveway, the doors were flung open, and two dark-haired girls jumped out.

Ashlinn didn’t have to ask who they were Flint’s face was dark as a thundercloud as he watched his two teenaged half sisters saunter to the door, their young faces surly as they stared from him to Ashlinn.

“Make sure you get your cash from him upfront, honey,” one girl addressed Ashlinn, her tone and her dark eyes insolent. “And I hope you’re up to date on your shots, especially your rabies shot.”

The other one snickered.

“You can apologize to Miss Carey right now, Camryn,” snapped Flint. “And you too, Kaylin.”

“’Cause you told us to?” Camryn laughed. “Yeah, right. That’ll happen.”

She brushed by Ashlinn and Flint and entered the house, her younger sister close on her heels.

Flint automatically moved to follow them inside. The door slammed shut.

“Well, now you’ve met them,” he growled. “Was I exaggerating?”

“I’ve never seen a door literally slammed in someone’s face before,” Ashlinn said uneasily. “Do they do that often?”

He didn’t bother to answer. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Ashlinn wasn’t about to argue. The teenagers couldn’t have made it more clear that she and Flint were unwelcome. And just like he’d said, taking them camping was out of the question. But just as the two turned to leave, the door opened again.

“The girls said you were here, Flint. With a, er, a friend.”

Ashlinn gaped at the man standing in the doorway, whose voice sounded exactly like Flint’s. He looked exactly like Flint, too.

She stared from one brother to the other. If she didn’t know that Flint was wearing the white shirt and khaki trousers, she wouldn’t have been able to distinguish him from the other man, who wore a pair of faded old jeans and no shirt at all. His bare bronze chest shone in the light.

“You’re twins!” she exclaimed, then grinned, unable not to. “I do have a remarkable grasp of the obvious, don’t I?”

“I’m Rafe Paradise.” He extended his hand to her to shake.

She took it and introduced herself while scrutinizing Rafe closely. The resemblance to Flint was uncanny, but on closer inspection, she noticed a few subtle differences. Rafe’s face was more open, his expression friendlier in comparison to Flint, who appeared more guarded and aloof. Rafe’s smiles came more easily; she already knew that Flint’s were rare.

Rare and thrilling, she mused, remembering the potent impact Flint’s smiles had upon her. But Flint was not smiling now.

“We were just leaving, Rafe,” Flint said tersely. “Sorry to have disturbed you this late.”

“It’s my fault,” Ashlinn interjected. “I was the one who insisted on coming.”

Rafe didn’t ask why. “Glad you’re here. Come in.” He cupped Ashlinn’s elbow and ushered her inside, giving her no choice but to accept his invitation. Which gave Flint no choice but to follow them both into the house.

“Holly, we have company,” Rafe called up the stairs.

“The evil twin’s out of his crypt again,” announced Camryn who stood on the stairway, eyeing Flint and Ashlinn. “And he brought the queen of Darkness with him.”

“Be quiet, Camryn!” snapped Flint.

“Camryn, go to your room.” Rafe heaved a sigh. “Now.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” Camryn flounced up the stairs.

“I know that little brat thinks she has a genetic right to insult me, but Ashlinn should not have to put up with it’” Flint, standing behind Ashlinn, placed a protective hand on her shoulder. His fingers tightened, drawing her back a little toward him.

“What’s going on?”

Ashlinn turned at the sound and was sure that the tall slim brunette gliding regally down the stairs just had to be Holly, Rafe’s wife. She studied the other woman. Flint had neglected to mention how beautiful his sister-in-law, the doctor, was.

Both Flint and Ashlinn stared at Holly, who was tying a knot in the navy silk belt that matched her robe. Her cheeks were flushed, her brown curls tousled. And then there was Rafe wearing only his—hastily pulled on?—jeans.

Ashlinn gulped. It did look as if they had intruded on a private moment between the couple “We’re so sorry to disturb you.”

Holly and Rafe exchanged quick glances. “We were just watching a movie on TV,” Holly said smoothly and introduced herself to Ashlinn.

“I guess you’re wondering why we’re here,” Flint spoke up. “Ashlinn wanted to know if Camryn and Kaylin could come along on the Paradise Outdoors camping expedition, the one Carmody set up before his skateboard accident.”

Rafe gaped, dumbfounded. “You want them to join you and your girlfriend on. . .”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Flint said vehemently, lifting his hand from Ashlinn’s shoulder as if he’d been scalded. He immediately moved to stand apart from her.

Ashlinn tried to ignore her discomfort. “Can the girls come along?”

“Did you know that Camryn and her friends taught Sam Carmody how to skateboard?” Rafe frowned pensively. “We didn’t like him hanging around with high-school kids and told her to stay away from him. Whether or not she listened is a. . .”

“The girls both have their jobs at the mall,” Holly inserted. “They really can’t leave on such short notice, Flint.”

“So you two are going camping together?” Rafe arched his brows, his expression speculative as he studied Flint and Ashlinn. “Should be an interesting trip. Will you be sharing a tent?” he added, his eyes gleaming, unable to hold back from a little brotherly ribbing.

“It wasn’t planned, it just worked out that way” Flint was immediately defensive. A flush stained his cheeks, turning his skin a deep golden bronze. “This is ridiculous” He snatched Ashlinn’s hand and pushed open the front door. “We’re out of here, right now!” He left the house, dragging Ashlinn along with him.

They got into the car and sped away from the house.

“It wasn’t planned, it just worked out that way?” Ashlinn repeated. Her heart began to pound, fast and loud. “Does that mean I’m actually supposed to share a tent with you?”

“You look panicked at the thought. Fearing for your virtue? Have you bought into Camryn’s evil twin accusations?”

“I’m not panicked and I don’t think you’re evil, but I’m not sharing a tent with you or anyone else. I want my own tent! Since Tour & Travel is paying the expenses, just bill them for an extra tent. Because I will not. . .”

“Relax. I don’t want to share a tent with you either. Asher Carey and I were assigned to share one, but Ms. Ashlinn Carey is definitely getting her own. The extra cost can come out of Junior’s lunch money.”

“You were only joking.” Ashlinn tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand was trembling. “I knew that.”

“No, you didn’t.” He was clearly relishing her overreaction. “And I warned you the Paradise clan wasn’t one big happy extended family like yours, but you insisted on meeting the girls. Well, I was right, wasn’t I?” Flint’s voice held an unmistakable ring of triumph.

“Are you one of those annoying types who always have to have the last word?”

“I’m not annoying, but yes, I’ve been told that I do like to have the last word,” he admitted, not at all offended by the charge.

“Ohhhh! These next two weeks are going to be interminable.” Ashlinn was vexed, but more with herself than with him. For there was an unwelcome excitement bubbling inside her that she couldn’t suppress.

“Interminable,” Flint agreed.

But his grim pronouncement was at odds with the slow smile playing across his face.

Three

By the time the Paradise Outdoors expedition arrived in Custer State Park the next afternoon, Ashlinn was uncomfortably aware that she had more in common with Presley Oakes Jr. than with her fellow campers. At least the boy publisher enjoyed city life and had never escaped from a war zone or attempted to climb Mount Everest.

Jack Hall, Etienne Bouvier, Rico Figueroa and Koji Yagano had done all that and much more. They were professional out-doorsmen and adventurers, each with a long resume of successful feats and scrapes with death. In addition to writing about their escapades for their respective magazines, all four were proud contributors to The Most Dangerous Places on the Globe, a book Ashlinn had never heard of.

Flint had.

“The title is self-explanatory. It’s a kind of guidebook for the most dangerous places in the world, destinations that aren’t recommended for travelers,” he explained as he drove the party in an enormous rented van to the park in southwestern South Dakota. Ashlinn was sitting beside him in the front while the other four men sprawled two to a bench in back.

“They are places that definitely aren’t recommended for tourists,” added Jack Hall, his tone and expression making it clear that he considered tourists a threat to the quality of life, much the same as flesh-eating bacteria.

“Your state department forbids you to go to many of the places we’ve been,” Rico Figueroa added enthusiastically.

“Then why go? And why bother with a guidebook for unsafe places?” Ashlinn asked what she considered to be the most obvious questions.

She heard a groan. An impatient sigh. And then silence descended.

Ashlinn chewed her lower lip. She’d done it again; it seemed she had a talent for exasperating this crew.

She cast a glance at Flint. At least he didn’t look exasperated.

Flint caught her eye. “Maybe ‘guidebook’ isn’t the best choice of word. Think reference book instead.”

He’d responded politely to all her questions and remarks when the others wouldn’t, Ashlinn mused gratefully.

“The book is more of an anthology,” Flint continued, filling the silence. “The various contributors write about what they saw and did in dangerous cities and countries all over the world. There are plenty of armchair adventurers who enjoy experiencing danger vicariously.”

“You’re in travel publishing, Ashley, you know that,” chided Jack Hall.

“It’s Ashlinn,” she corrected, not for the first time. “And Tour & Travel features articles on places like Sausalito and Williamsburg. Our readers want amenities and charm, not threats to their lives.”

“But your new publisher is set on changing that,” Flint reminded her.

As if she needed reminding! Ashlinn sighed.

“Custer State Park probably is less dangerous than crossing any street in Paris, but our stay there will be a useful respite,” said Etienne Bouvier. “With no distractions in the evenings, I plan to polish my article on my encounter with headhunters.”

“Before you ask,” Flint murmured under his breath to Ashlinn “He’s not referring to an executive search agency.”

She knew he was kidding and chuckled quietly. “I think they’d throw me out of the van if I asked, even as a joke,” she whispered back. “They take their adventures very seriously.”

“The next two weeks are the equivalent of lying in the sun on a beach, something I rarely do,” piped up Rico. “But I intend to completely relax on this trip.”

“We’re scheduled to rock climb, mountain bike and climb a peak, among other activities,” Ashlinn pointed out, reciting their proposed itinerary from the list she’d been given that morning. “None of that can be termed relaxing.”

For her, just thinking of what lay ahead was fatigue-inducing. The possibility of relaxation during the next two weeks seemed as remote as their campsite.

“I think that climbing Harney Peak, which is 7,242 feet high, might qualify as relaxation compared to the twenty-thousand-some feet they scaled on Everest,” observed Flint.

“I guess when you put it like that . .” Ashlinn’s voice trailed off.

The thought of attempting to climb over seven thousand feet still did not strike her as child’s play. She pictured rocks and falls and broken bones.

“Glad you’re along to translate for the lady, Flint,” Koji said gratefully.

Ashlinn knew he wasn’t referring to language difficulties, because all the men spoke English fluently. Nor was the lack of understanding between her and her fellow campers the result of typical male/female differences so well-documented in the pop psychology books proliferating on bookstore shelves.

No, she and the four international risk takers were like creatures from separate universes with absolutely no common frame of reference. She found their bold mindset, their casual bravado, so incomprehensible that even small talk posed a difficulty. Since they’d met this morning, she’d invariably said the wrong thing, irking or boring the four happy wanderers.

But as Koji had mentioned, Flint was proving valuable as a translator cum peacemaker, interpreting her to the men and vice versa. Though he hadn’t risked his life on seven continents, somehow, fortunately, he was able to relate both to those who had and to Ashlinn.

“Since she’s offering no fringe benefits, we’re grateful you don’t mind baby-sitting her, Flint,” said Jack Hall in a relieved better-you-than-me tone.

Ashlinn couldn’t let that remark go unchallenged. “That crack about fringe benefits is too low to dignify with a rejoinder, and I don’t need a baby-sitter!”

The four men laughed, as if she’d told a hilarious joke.

“You need a baby-sitter a helluva lot more than we need a guide, chica,” said Rico. “The four of us have had more than enough experience to be on our own in a state park in South Dakota. You can’t say the same.”

More hearty macho laughter. More stories of being held at gunpoint, of drinking snake blood, of bribing their way in and out of the hellholes of the world while loving every minute of it.

Ashlinn leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes, pretending she’d nodded off to sleep. She had already had enough interaction with her campmates. Two whole weeks with them loomed like an eternity.

It seemed ironic that last night, she had been apprehensive about spending the next two weeks with Flint. Who could have guessed that today she would consider him the closest thing she had to a friend and ally?

But it was true. Flint was courteous, treating her as an equal member of the expedition, not an unwelcome pest. The same couldn’t be said for the others in the group.

Ashlinn’s mind drifted back to her meeting with them this morning, after her predawn trip to Paradise Outdoors’ company headquarters with Flint. To the fateful moment when she’d informed the men that she not only wasn’t a good cook, but her campfire cuisine was even worse than her everyday efforts.

“But cooking is what women are created for!” Rico exclaimed, shocked.

Ashlinn had felt obliged to offer a rebuttal. What woman wouldn’t? But Flint had caught her hand, pulling her out of earshot of the group.

“For the sake of congeniality, I recommend just letting that one pass,” he suggested quietly.

“But he just relegated women back to the Stone Age!” objected Ashlinn. “On behalf of women everywhere, I. . .”

“You can talk till you’re hoarse, but you’ll never convince him otherwise. Anyway, the men agreed to do the cooking for themselves,” Flint pointed out. “You won’t be slaving over a hot campfire, except to make your own meals. Can’t you view that as a victory on behalf of women everywhere?”

“I guess so.” Ashlinn was very aware that Flint was still holding her hand. A small shiver rippled along her spine.

“Cooking isn’t the only thing women are good for,” Bouvier had interjected, his eyes raking Ashlinn’s trim blue-jeaned figure. “Don’t forget about sex.”

“As if we ever could!” Jack Hall had laughed rakishly “Maybe you’ll share your tent with one of us, lovely lady? Or all of us, if the gods are smiling”

Ashlinn didn’t know if he was kidding or not but decided to set the record straight right from the beginning.

“The gods aren’t smiling,” she said succinctly. “So don’t bother going through the motions, because you’ve already struck out.”

Only Bouvier didn’t get her baseball metaphor. “I have a can of Mace,” Ashlinn clarified her position for him. “If you try anything with me, I’ll use it on you.”

“So you’ve already made your choice, then?” Koji’s eyes were fixed on her hand linked with Flint’s.

Her face flaming, Ashlinn dropped Flint’s hand. “My choice is to be left alone!”

Just in case they decided to take her literally and abandon her in the wild, she added, “I expect to be treated exactly like any other member of this group. As if I were Asher Carey.”

Rico said something in a language she didn’t recognize and they all laughed. Except Flint. He looked as uncomprehending as she did.

“An old Sinhalese saying,” Koji explained. “Remind us to translate later, Flint.”

Ashlinn guessed the remark was outrageously sexist and dealt with a woman’s place in the most insulting terms. Well, she didn’t want to be here any more than they wanted her along. It was just too bad she was so totally outnumbered. If only Flint’s half sisters hadn’t been so impossible.

As the four men swapped tales of the smugglers’ bazaar in Peshawar, Ashlinn fell into a light fitful sleep that lasted until the van came to a stop.

She opened her eyes to see an enormous buffalo standing a few feet away, staring straight at her. She gasped.

“Bison,” Flint laid his hand on her arm. “Don’t be alarmed. There are about fourteen hundred of them roaming in the park. We’re on Wildlife Loop Road, and they often stop traffic along this stretch.”

Several cars were stopped behind them on the narrow road as a few bison meandered across. More animals were grazing on either side of the road.

“I’ve never seen a live buffalo before,” she said, awed. “Only stuffed ones in museums.”

“I’d like to ride one of those,” enthused Jack Hall. “I’ve ridden camels in Saudi and elephants in India.”

“Haven’t we all?” Figueroa sounded bored.

Ashlinn and Flint caught each other’s eye. “Camels and elephants are so passé,” she imitated Figueroa’s jaded tone. “Riding bison is the latest thrill.”

Flint swallowed a smile. “Riding bison is forbidden,” he informed his charges. “They can be dangerously unpredictable and bad-tempered.”

“With this group, you’re better off saying bison are so tame that even grandmothers find them dull to ride,” Ashlinn murmured. “Nothing seems to excite our fellow campers more than the possibility of breaking every bone in their bodies.”

Flint laughed.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Bouvier.

“Ashlinn just made a—um—a buffalo joke,” Flint said, as they exchanged conspiratorial smiles.

“Your ancestors worshipped the buffalo, didn’t they, Flint?” Koji asked respectfully. “I’ve read a lot about the American Wild West.”

Since Flint had made it clear he was a modern-day workaholic who preferred his office to anywhere else, the Wild West reference struck Ashlinn as particularly absurd. She couldn’t stifle another outburst of laughter.

“Now you’re laughing at Flint’s native culture?” Bouvier’s voice was icy with disapproval.

“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “It’s just that I can’t picture Flint in the Old West era.”

“I can,” said Koji, and launched into an impassioned discourse about the softness of contemporary society and its toxic effect on men. Fortunately, according to him, the five men in the van were immune to this modern-day plague and remained true men’s men; living, breathing tributes to the hardy male wamors who preceded them.

“I wasn’t accusing you of being a couch potato,” Ashlinn murmured to Flint. “Honest.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice equally low.

Not that it mattered, because the four warriors in the back weren’t interested in the conversation going on in the front. They’d already launched into an eager discussion about the challenges of hunting for game in assorted trouble spots.

“Just for the record, I prefer contemporary times,” continued Flint. “I’ll take one of the Paradise Outdoors water-tight tents instead of a lean-to made out of sticks and mud any day.”

“A cell phone over smoke signals,” added Ashlinn.

Flint nodded. “A pair of Paradise Outdoors woodsman boots with Durotech socks rather than moccasins.”

“Paradise Outdoors power-zoom binoculars instead of squinting.” She shrugged apologetically. “I’m running out of examples, that was the best I could do.”

“There are countless examples,” enthused Flint. “Let’s start with this GPS automotive navigator sold by Paradise Outdoors.”

He pointed to the electronic geopositional satellite unit mounted on the dash. “The unit has built-in maps of highways and major metro streets in the United States and most of Canada and Mexico, and also includes rivers and lakes. It continuously tracks and uses up to twelve satellites for precise operations.”

Ashlinn was impressed. “That makes a compass seem obsolete”

“Although Paradise Outdoors does sell a wide range of fine compasses,” Flint added quickly, never one to disparage any merchandise sold by his company.

“Maybe for nostalgia buffs?” teased Ashlinn. “How’s that for a marketing hook?”

“Pretty bad, but I’ve heard worse,” said Flint.

“Surely not from Skatm’ Sam Carmody, marketing genius?” Ashlinn suggested

“Why are you so down on Carmody?” Flint asked. “Actually, I’d like to bring him into the family, convince him to try his luck with Eva ”

“Sam Carmody and Eva?” quizzed Ashlinn

Flint nodded his approval. “Carmody and Eva would be good together The company would get to keep a stellar marketing talent in the family and—er—”

“Yes, ‘and—er,’” Ashlinn mocked. “Paradise Outdoors would get to keep Carmody, but how would Eva benefit? What does she get out of such a setup?”

“Eva has stock in the company. What’s good for Paradise Outdoors is good for every member of the Paradise family?” suggested Flint. “A fairly weak argument, I’ll grant you that.”

“I should mention that family fix-ups and all the expectations that go with them usually bomb big time,” Ashlinn warned. “I’m speaking from personal experience.”

“Your family has tried to fix you up a lot?” Flint realized he was scowling. His gut began to churn when he also realized how much he absolutely hated the thought of her dating a lot of different men, family setups or not. He hated the thought of her dating any man.

His breath caught in his throat. Good Lord, he couldn’t be jealous, not him. Flint Paradise had never succumbed to sexual jealousy in his life. And to feel jealous of the unnamed, unknown men who’d been set up with Ashlinn. . .that was foolish beyond reason. And he was infinitely reasonable, never foolish. He could only be relieved that she appeared to be completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Finding a match for me was turning into a regular Carey family project,” Ashlinn replied, and heaved a groan. “But I finally had to lay down the law and tell them no more match-making, especially after the last guy.”

“Bad?” asked Flint. He knew he sounded too hopeful and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

She hadn’t.

“Bad doesn’t begin to cover it. Try ‘unendurable’ I have my sister Courtney to thank for inflicting her brother-in-law Nathaniel Tremaine on me.” Ashlinn shuddered at the memory.