Page 12 of Holiday Hire

"A favor?"

"Yep."

"What kind of favor?"

I shrug. "I don't know, just something in the future if I need it."

Mistrust fills his expression again.

"Fine. If you're scared of what I might ask you to do, then we don't have to bet," I mutter, then roll my eyes and turn away.

He blurts out, "What do I get when I'm right?"

I think for a moment, then reply, "Same thing. A favor."

He scoffs. "But you won't be here to make good on that favor."

Anger hits me. His assumption I won't make it through the trial period is insulting. "Just forget I said anything."

He veers to the right and pulls into the private airport. He parks close to the jet's staircase and gets out.

By the time he gets to my door, I've already jumped out of the cab, unsure why I'm agreeing to return here.

Because I need a job.

Because Lance and I need a break.

Because I'm running out of money.

"See you in a few days," I say, stepping toward the plane.

He moves in front of me. "Wait."

I freeze, hating the heat rising in my cheeks, and slowly glance up.

He towers over me. A gust of wind blows by us, and his scent flares around me, accelerating my flutters. His cowboy hat creates a dark shadow on his face, but I swear he's looking at the tattoo peeking out of my tank top.

Maybe he's a pervert and staring at my chest.

He declares, "Bet's on."

I put my hand on my hip. "I thought you were worried about collecting your win."

His lips twist. "Nah. I only take bets I can win, but I'll figure it out."

I sarcastically laugh. "So you train racehorses and gamble but you're worried about me influencing your boys?"

A hint of amusement fills his expression. He nods, agreeing, "Yep. Like I said, I understand responsible gambling. And apparently, you do not."

I huff, then straighten my shoulders. I hold my hand out. "Okay, Alexander. You're on."

His large, tanned hand reaches toward me. His fingers wrap around mine.

Electricity runs down my back. I take a shaky breath, surprised by the intensity.

The darkness in his gaze deepens. He locks eyes with me until I feel like I'll melt into a puddle at his feet. His gruff voice declares, "Looking forward to my win."

Everything about his statement and what it does to me, confuses me. It deepens an ache I haven't felt since I first started dating Lance. It gives a new spark to the anger burning within me. And it makes me more determined than ever to pass his test and win this bet.

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