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Jack chuckled. “But maybe not at 7:00 a.m.?”
Simon’s voice relaxed. “That’d be nice. But I’m on call whenever you need me.”
“Am I screwing up anybody else’s schedule?” Jack asked.
Cleveland had exclusive use of one of the Osland company jets, while Jack was the primary user of the other. But Jack didn’t need his jet every day, and other Osland executives frequently booked it when he was in L.A.
“Hunter called a charter company. We’re covered.”
“Great. Thanks for your patience, Simon.”
“No worries. I’m fine. I’ll grab some tickets for a show tonight.”
“Have a good time.” Jack hung up the phone, his hand resting on the receiver for a moment. He’d wondered if Kristy might enjoy a show. Cirque du Soleil was playing.
He rolled out of bed.
He took a cold shower and brewed himself a cup of coffee in the in-room machine. Then he picked up the phone to call his assistant.
“Hey, Jack,” came Lisa’s voice on her cell phone.
“Morning,” he responded. “Didn’t wake you, did I?”
“It’s seven o’clock,” she responded. Lisa was a morning person extraordinaire.
“Been jogging yet?”
“Just putting on my shoes.”
“Well, I’m stuck in Vegas.”
“Really? How’d that happen?”
“Jet trouble. Simon’s having it repaired.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Why don’t you grab a flight?”
“I’ve got a passenger.” It wasn’t really an answer, since commercial airlines generally had more than one seat available on their flights.
But Lisa was too polite to ask any questions. “You need anything from me?”
“Did we hear from Neil Roberts on the Perkins project?”
“Let’s see.” Something rustled in the background. “He says escrow will close on the factory Friday. The union agreements are almost finished—some sticking point on pension transferability. And the tooling for the robotics hit a snag in Bombay, but he’s dealing with it next week.”
Jack jotted a couple of notes on the hotel stationary. “Does he need me to call?”
“Didn’t say so.”
“Okay. I’ll touch base with him on Monday. Anything else?”
“Harry’s retirement in the New Year. If you want the engraving done on time, we have to get the order in now. Gold or platinum.”
“You’ve seen them both. You decide.”
“He’ll want the gold.”
Jack shrugged in the suite. He’d have gone with the platinum. But Lisa knew their Western Regional Controller better than he did. “Go ahead then.”
“You sure?”
“You’re the expert.”
He could hear the grin in her voice. “It’s about time you—”
“Have a good run.”
“I will. Have fun in Vegas.”
Jack grunted something noncommittal before he hung up the phone. He wasn’t in Vegas to have fun.
His gaze wandered to Kristy’s bedroom door. But having fun was certainly turning into a huge temptation.
He left his notes on the small desk and crossed the room to her door, knocking lightly.
“Hmmff?” came a muffled reply.
He eased the door open. “You waking up?”
She rolled onto her back, her blond hair fanning out across the white pillow, and her creamy shoulders peeking out above the ivory duvet while Dee Dee resettled herself on the foot of the bed. “I am now.”
“Not a morning person?” His hand tightened on the doorknob, and he forced his feet to stay glued to the carpet while he let himself wonder if she was naked under the sheets.
“Not when I stay up half the night eating chocolate and ice cream.”
Jack’s gut clenched once more at the memory of how she’d dug into the chocolate volcano, her tongue curling around the spoon, rescuing a drop of chocolate sauce that had dabbed on her lower lip. He wondered for the thousandth time how he’d had the strength to send her off to her own bedroom.
He forced his thoughts back to the present. “I have good news and bad news.”
She sat up, trapping the sheet under her arms, bringing it tight against what he was now sure were her naked breasts. “The good news first.”
It took him an inordinately long time to find his voice. “We have tickets to Cirque du Soleil.”
“I guess I don’t have to guess the bad news.” But she didn’t look overly distressed at the thought of staying in Vegas.
Jack clenched his teeth, redoubling his effort to stay on this side of the room. “Simon’s waiting on the parts shipment,” he lied.
She nodded her acceptance of the explanation. “Any guesses as to when he’ll get them?”
Jack mustered up a casual shrug, the words Don’t do it, Don’t do it turning into a mantra inside his head. He was proud of how normal his voice sounded. “Up in the air. We may have to do some more gambling to keep the room.”
Kristy smiled at that, and the world shifted inside Jack. Her eyes turned the most incredible shades of blue. They sparkled like jewels when she was happy, then darkened to a smoky sky when she was aroused. He hadn’t made her angry yet, but he’d bet anger had its own distinct shade.
For a split second he realized he was going to find out exactly how her anger looked come Monday. The thought clobbered him, until he shoved it aside.
She shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed, one delicate foot peeking out the side of the blanket. “You do know, don’t you, that we could lose more gambling than the suite actually costs?”
He let his gaze rest on her perfect pink toes. “Law of averages says we won’t.”
“I thought the odds were on the side of the house.”
“They are. But most people neither win nor lose big. And we’d have to lose pretty big to cover all this.”
She glanced around. “True enough. If we’re going to be stuck here, is there any chance we could get our suitcases from the plane?”
He forced his gaze from her bare foot and focused on the headboard behind her left ear, forcing himself to regroup and think logically about his plans. They could send for their suitcases, certainly. But that would undermine his efforts to make her feel like she was in a Cinderella fantasy. Clothes and jewelry were an important part of the package. She had to get completely caught up if he expected her to marry him by Sunday night.
“Don’t you think it’s more fun for me to take you shopping?” he asked.
She frowned. “I can’t let you keep spending money on me.”
He gave another shrug. “It’s my fault you’re stuck here.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You broke the plane?”
“I own the plane.”
She hesitated for a few seconds. “I guess you do, don’t you?”
The question seemed rhetorical, so he didn’t bother answering.
“This is all a bit surreal for me,” she said.
Jack fought the urge to move farther into the room to reassure her. “Just go with it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
She was obviously worrying about Cleveland, and she’d think to call him soon if Jack didn’t at least pretend to explore some alternatives.
He took a chance. “We could book commercial tickets, but that’ll probably take just as long as waiting for Simon.”
Then he held his breath and waited.
“I suppose,” she ventured, clearly not convinced.
He tried to lighten the atmosphere. “We’re marooned, Kristy. Think of it as being on a desert island.”
She cocked her head, and he could tell his ploy was working. “A desert island that comes with a casino, chocolate volcanoes and Cirque du Soleil?”
“Hey, I had to pull a lot strings to get those tickets.”
She gave a small, self-conscious smile. “Sorry. I’ll stop complaining and lighten up.”
“Yes. Do stop complaining. And do lighten up. We’re marooned together until tomorrow, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”
She glanced around at the sumptuous furnishings and the rich curtains in the spacious bedroom. “I have to say, this is the best desert island ever.”
Jack chuckled at that. “Come on, then. Let me show you the rest of it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
KRISTY sat up straight and peered past the Eldorado Tours sign to a mass of bright yellow, blue and red fabric that billowed out across the packed desert sand.
“What’s that?” she asked, bracing her hands on the dashboard as Jack bounced the rented SUV into a dirt parking spot next to the porch of a small, graying building.
“It’s a hot air balloon.” He smiled, clearly pleased with himself as he shoved his sunglasses above his forehead.
She blinked at his profile. “You told me we were going to see the Grand Canyon.”
“We are.”
“But—”
He killed the engine and set the hand brake. “Did you think we’d ride down the cliffs on burros?”
She angled her body to face him. “I thought we’d drive up to the edge and take a look over.” She’d never been to the Grand Canyon, but she imagined there were any number of lookouts along the main road.
“This is way better,” said Jack. “We’ll cruise down between the cliffs and get a close-up of the river.”
Kristy’s stomach dipped at the thought of skimming close to jagged rocks in something as fragile as a hot air balloon. “Is that safe?”
“It’s safer than falling off a burro on a narrow trail.”
She glanced back at the rapidly expanding balloon. “That’s your benchmark for safety? Anything above falling off a burro?”
Chuckling, he opened the driver’s door. “Don’t be a wuss. You’ll have a blast.”
Taking a deep breath, Kristy reached for her own door handle, trying to remember if she’d ever heard reports of balloon fatalities in the Grand Canyon. She couldn’t think of any, but that might simply mean the mathematical odds were catching up with them.
Jack rounded the hood and pulled on the top of her door, drawing it open the rest of the way.
“Have you ever ridden one?” she asked.
The roar of the balloon’s gas burner echoed in the air as the huge balloon lifted from the ground, taking on a life of its own in a slight, desert breeze.
