Page 17 of Resisting Her Playboy Boss

‘Ted Coulson, I’m driving you up there,’ he introduced himself amiably. ‘You’ll need to save your questions for the boss, though. I only manage the deer farm business, not the lodge.’

‘Okay.’ She smiled, happy to feast her eyes on the amazing scenery for now anyway—the questions could come later.

The snow-covered, spiky line of mountains was breathtaking. She could think of at least ten projects that had filmed in those Alps. She listed a few into her notebook and checked her watch to time the trip from airport to the station. But it wasn’t too long before they left the main road and roared along a shingle one. Time disappeared as she breathed in the view—the mountains, the endless sky, the tussocky rolling land. Oh, yeah, no wonder the place was a popular choice for cinematographers—untouched beauty as far as the eye could see. Majestic.

But she blinked as the lodge came into view. ‘Oh, wow.’

She knew there were several luxury properties around here, but this had to be one of the best. Man-made majesty this time.

‘Something, isn’t it?’ Ted said dryly.

She breathed deep, trying to quell the nerves suddenly twanging just beneath her skin. ‘It certainly is.’ And she really, really didn’t want to stuff this up.

Ted took the truck right up to the side of the house where there was a wide, covered porch, so passengers could alight unruffled by inclement weather. He was out of the car and opening her door before she’d managed to stop staring at the magnificence of the massive wooden door of the building. Yeah, just the door had her amazed.

She stepped out of the car, feeling like a pixie who’d mistakenly entered a giant’s lair. She turned on the spot, checking out the view the house had of the surrounding mountains. This was out of her league. As Ted drove away—apparently in a hurry to get back to his deer—she heard that massive door swinging open and she turned, her biggest smile switched on. She wanted to make the best first impression ever.

Only her mouth gummed.

He had that ‘Lucky’ tee shirt on again. Those flattering blue jeans again. He had that smile again. The same chocolate ganache eyes—glossy, deep brown. And amused.

‘Ellie Summers.’ He held out his hand to shake hers, that smile full on his face.

‘Youwere the mystery shopper?’

He just grinned more.

‘You watched like five minutes.’

‘I saw all I needed to. It’s obvious you have a gift.’

‘Don’t try to flatter me.’

‘Why would I when I already know that won’t work with you? I’m merely stating a fact.’

She avoided looking him in the eye because she knew if she did she was going to laugh and she refused to let him away with it that easily. ‘I’m not going to give you what you want.’

‘How do you know what I want?’

‘I can see it in your eyes.’

‘You’re not looking at my eyes.’

She closed her own, knowing her skin was sizzling—aliens in outer space would be able to see the glow from her cheeks. She was both disappointed and excited—a zillion thoughts ran through her head in a nanosecond. This couldn’t be his place—and if it was, had he brought her here under false pretences?

‘You don’t own this lodge,’ she asserted. ‘It belongs to an Argentinian guitarist.’

‘Andreas sold it to my company last year and I truly do want to open it up for tours,’ he said calmly, apparently able to read her mind.

‘But you asked forme.’ Not her boss or the other more experienced employees.

‘Because you’re the best guide. Inventive, best when you’re improvising rather than sticking to a script someone else has written. So I want you to write the script. You’re good at creating the fun scenarios.’

The fun scenarios?

‘And that’s all you want from me?’ Now she was blushing more because she’d made a massive fool of herself in assuming...

‘Oh, no,’ he said as calmly as ever. ‘I also want to have wild animal sex with you for hours until neither of us can move. But perhaps it isn’t very politically correct of me to admit that.’ A flash of that wide, wicked smile.

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