The Business Trip (2 page)

"We, of course, will be using that time well."

It took a moment for his words to filter through her mind.

"We?" she croaked.

"That's right Ms. Montgomery. I have a business trip to make. Alaska. And I want you to go with me."

"Alaska? A-l-a-s-k-a?"

"That's right. There's a big oil company based there looking to integrate new technology to control their pipelines. I mean for Johnson Electronics to win their contract."

"But why me? Why do I have to go with you?"

"I need you, Ms. Montgomery. There's going to be a lot of information exchanged in meetings. I need my executive assistant with me."

"But what about my extra two weeks? Don't I get any time off?"

"You're salaried. I made it clear from the start that I expect more from my salary people. It's part of the job."

"But--"

"No buts, Ms. Montgomery. We need to get moving on this immediately. We'll need reservations to Anchorage. Then, as I understand it, it'll only a short two- to three-hour ride up into the Chugach Mountains where the oil company has a retreat. They'll provide transport from Anchorage. We'll be leaving two weeks from today."

Well, damn, Liza thought. What would Satin do now?

The dark-haired man's hand moved up the stockings and slowly traced the edge of the garter, kissing the woman senseless in the process. It was a wet, noisy kiss, with their tongues busily mating, lips open wide. She felt like all she wanted was to swallow him whole. His dark blue eyes sparkled with desire and she felt as if she was melting...

Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep.

Liza groaned and put the pillow over her head to block out the sound of her alarm clock going crazy.

God, timing.

She had the world's worst timing in the world. It never failed. She was always getting woken up or interrupted before she got to the good parts. She reached out and pressed the off button. She wanted more than ever to roll over and go back to her dream. But Clayton Johnson and Alaska were waiting for her. She wished she had the nerve to tell him to take his job and shove it. She wished, just once, Clayton would look at her the way the man in her dream had.

Liza pushed back the covers. She wasn't going to quit and she wasn't going to complain about going to Alaska. She didn't have what it took. But when she returned, she and Clayton Johnson were going to have it out. No more excuses.

Clay Johnson looked over at his executive secretary as she slept in the chair beside him. They were on the second leg of their journey. It had been nothing like he expected, and he wasn't the least happy.

He wasn't unhappy with her. In fact, Eliza's buoyant sense of humor was the only thing that kept him from going off. To be honest, it wasn't only her buoyant humor that was a steadying force. The fact was his executive assistant was a knockout. It didn't matter what she wore. The business suits that made him want to forget all about work when the little slit at the back showed off those amazing little legs. Or what she was wearing now--the black leggings with thick socks showing at her ankles, the clunky little boots that shouldn't have been sexy, and a wool sweater that made him thank his Maker for cold weather.

Clay remembered veterans of World War II talking about the impact of the poster girls--busty starlets in sweater dresses--on the fighting men. He'd never really gotten it. But this was the first time he'd seen Eliza in the clingy wool material. Now he was thinking a company-wide memo requiring sweaters be worn at least once a week wouldn't be out of line at all.

Yes, this was supposed to be a business trip. At least that's what Liza thought. But he had plans for much more. There was only one problem. Everything that could go wrong had.

Their flight from Buffalo had been delayed due to a snow squall. The small, modern but intimate Cessna scheduled for the last leg that should have been just him and her and the pilot, turned out to be a reject from World War II held together with rubber bands and chicken wire. They were supposed to be sipping perfectly chilled champagne in reserved but richly appointed splendor, where they could cuddle and watch the majestic, raw beauty of Alaska unfold beneath them.

Instead, there was no time for romantic anything. All either one of them could do was hang on for dear life against the unbelievable turbulence and pray for their lives. At least neither had to use the barf bags so thoughtfully provided by their pilot.

The plane hit a particularly deep pocket of dead air and dropped quickly. He looked over at Eliza's green face. He felt the answering swirl in his stomach.

Yet...

Whatever had possessed him to think of wooing this woman with a business trip to Alaska? He should have stuck with Bermuda like his best friend had suggested. But no, he had to try to do things in the roundabout way. He'd thought this would be more romantic. Alone, surrounded by rustic yet well-heeled beauty in southeastern Alaska. Nothing to do but make love in front of a roaring fire, make love snuggled on a deep feather bed, make love anywhere their hearts desired.

It had taken a bit of planning and maneuvering on his part. He'd had to pay a hefty fee to convince the owner they should be the only ones renting the ten-room lodge for this weekend.

And this pilot and plane, which didn't look anything like the picture on the internet website, had cost much more than a weekend jaunt to Bermuda would have.

Well, next time, he promised himself, he would not try subversion. Next time... Good God, he hoped he never again had to trick this woman into joining him, but if there was a next time, he was just going to do something normal.

Trick Eliza Montgomery. That was what this had come down to. He'd been too afraid she'd turn him down, so instead of just taking the chance and asking her out like any other normal woman, he'd chickened out.

He told himself it was because he didn't want her to think she had to go out with him because of her job. He'd wanted to do something worthy of a hero in a romance novel.

Now, instead of just winning over his elusive executive assistant's heart, he had to keep her from throwing up.

Poor Mr. Johnson, Eliza thought as she saw the angry twitching along the strong muscle of his jaw. He's not a happy camper.

If she wasn't so busy battling airsickness, she might feel sorry for him. Obviously he'd expected something a little flashier and modern from the company he was hoping to do business with. He had been expecting to be met by the company officials, not some scruffy looking bush pilot who appeared to be lost in the '60s--1860s, that is. The pilot also--she sniffed and wrinkled her nose--either had a severe gland problem or hadn't seen a bar of soap in a month of Sundays. She laughed at the thought.

"Did you say something?" Clayton turned and looked at her as he yelled the question over the sound of the engines.

Eliza looked at him and decided to give the guy a break. After all, this wasn't his fault. "No," she replied. "At least the scenery is special. Look."

He leaned over and looked out the window on her side, his arm brushing hers and his rock hard thigh edging against her leg. Eliza's breath caught at the electric thrill that moved through her. She imagined his strength holding her, molding her, as they brought each other to the edge of ecstasy.

She shook her head at her whimsy. He would not be bringing her to the edge of anything. Not as long as she looked the way she did. He looked like a Greek God. Today, dressed down in jeans that fit him as faithfully as a lover, a cotton flannel shirt that molded his rock hard abs and perfectly developed pecs, shoulders and arms, and rugged work boots, Clayton Johnson looked like a strapping lumberjack, ready to rescue a damsel in distress.

He looked like he would still have the stamina to hammer into said damsel all day and all night. Her eyes lingered on his package, encased in denim but still obvious, and her mouth watered.

She realized he was looking at her oddly and stammered as she felt the blush riding to her cheeks. "I'm sorry...what did you say?"

"I said you're right. The scenery is special. So are you."

Eliza felt a different kind of thrill move through her. She felt her smile widen. "Why thank you, Mr. Johnson. I thought you'd never notice."

"Call me Clay, please. After all, we're in the back of beyond. I think some of the office formality can be lost, don't you?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I'm not a big fan of formality."

He smiled. Eliza responded. Mr. Johnson, er, Clay was always handsome, but when that smile of his widened across his sensuous full lips and lit up those wonderful eyes, he was mouthwateringly perfect.

"I've noticed that," he said. He looked like he was about to say more when suddenly the plane banked sharply. The plane skimmed over the top of lush, evergreen trees so dense Liza wondered if any human had seen them from the ground up in decades. Though she knew there was no danger, she caught her breath. The tops looked so close that she could have reached out and touched them.

Then, as if startled by their appearance, a beautiful eagle took flight racing even with their plane before peeling out away from them as if tired of playing with silly humans.

The plane turned again and suddenly the forest dropped away. Below, glistening in the bright sun was a perfect lake. Although there was snow covered ice stretching out from the shoreline, it must have been nearly as deep as at its center as Lake Erie because there the water was such a pure blue Liza could see the darker shapes of fish skimming along under the surface.

As they came down, their water landing gear touching the lake, a huge log cabin came into view at the far end. She caught her breath at the sheer beauty of the picture.

"Oh, look," she exclaimed. "Isn't it wonderful?"

This was just like Satin's story "Alaskan Desire," only much more vivid. There was snow, of course, but it looked even whiter than it did when it glistened on Lake Erie at home. As beautiful as the scenery was, she realized that the man sitting next to her was even more capable of stealing her breath. The hero in "Alaskan Desire" had been a lumberjack with a cock like a saber saw. When she closed her eyes, she saw her boss dressed in work boots and nothing else.

It would take all her control to keep from jumping his bones the minute they landed.

Clay smiled. Finally, things were beginning to be what he expected. He looked around the luxurious cabin as their pilot set their luggage on the floor. There was a great room with gleaming hardwood floors, a long, comfortable sofa, a couple of chairs that looked big enough to easily fit two people in front of a mammoth stone fireplace. There was a fire burning cheerfully and a huge bearskin rug taking up the bulk of the floor space in front of it. His palms itched with the overwhelming desire to see a naked Eliza lounging on the rug in front of the fire.

"Wow," she said, echoing his thoughts. "I can't say much for the trip in, but this place is fantastic."

"Yes," he agreed.

She walked forward into the large room. His gaze lingered on the way her leggings faithfully outlined her stupendous ass. Now, his fingers and his cock itched for another reason.

He reached in his pocket, grabbed a wad of cash without looking and handed it to the pilot. He took the hint and left them alone.

Clayton moved forward following Eliza as she wandered through the first level of the house. It was a little disconcerting because each room they entered put fantasies in his mind of what he would like to do with his assistant.

In the kitchen, as she exclaimed over the state of art commercial stove and work island, he saw himself lifting her on top of said counter. She would gasp in surprise, but would soon warm up to their activities.

Suddenly, something inside him snapped. He'd been fantasying about being with her in a situation like this from the day she'd started to work for him. Now, he couldn't wait any longer. With her back facing him, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her luscious ass full against his cock.

"Mr. Johnson," she screeched.

"For God's sake, call me Clay," he murmured. Incredibly, he felt her butt cheeks flexing. The result created a natural canal that measured him like a leather glove. He lowered his head and nibbled on her neck. It was like tasting ambrosia. He'd been dying to find out if the scent she wore day in and day out at the office was bottled or something else.

As a wave of cinnamon and spice drifted over him, he knew the smell was uniquely Eliza. Over the year-and-a-half she'd worked for him, he'd found himself waking up in the middle of the night with a raging hard-on with that exact smell lingering through his mind.

When she gasped and tilted her neck to give his mouth better access, he took advantage, nibbling his way from her ear lobe down to the tender indentation of her shoulder. At the same time, his hands moved up from her waist and gently stroked the edges of her breasts. Even through her sweater, he could feel the wonderful weight of them. Her hand moved and rubbed through his hair at the crown of his head. He raised his head. He had to give her one chance to stop things before it was too late. If she said no now, he didn't know how he'd handle it, but he knew he had to give her the chance.

"Eliza," he said, turning her so she faced him. "You make the choice."

Her eyes were glorious, luminous with her desire. He felt hope burgeoning along with every thing else south of his border.

"On the rug or in the bed?" she purred.

"Both." He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the floor. She laughed along with him as their lips met in a hungry kiss that soon turned their sounds to moans.

She was sweet and tangy at the same time as his tongue darted across her lips and entered her mouth to explore the taste and textures he found there. Hot, wet heat met his tongue, along with just a hint of the spearmint gum she had chewed in the airplane to keep her ears from popping.

He finally broke off the kiss long moments later. She leaned her head against his chest and he knew she could feel the racing of his heart. The way her breath was rasping through her lips told him she was just as excited as he. He bent slightly and then put an arm under her legs, picking her up and striding rapidly into the living room. The bedroom would definitely have to wait for round two.