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“He’s got to be the grouchiest man on the face of the earth. I think I’ll be fine.”
“So the accident changed him?”
“Accident?”
“Dean was a very happy sort of party guy, until Alex’s girlfriend was killed after Dean—” Eva paused. Her tone went from conversational to royal in one indrawn breath. “Actually, Kristen, if Dean didn’t tell you, then let’s not poke that bear, either.”
“He told me.”
“Then you understand how sensitive this is.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll call in some favors to find Suminski office space. Our vacation is over in two days. There’s no sense in cutting it short now. You can handle Dean and his staff for two days, right?”
Kristen said, “Yes, ma’am,” again, but she hung up the phone with the oddest feeling in her stomach. Dean might think he wouldn’t see her again, but Princess Eva had just put her in charge of him.
She tried to stem the crazy bubbly feeling behind her ribs, but she couldn’t. Dean might seem like the coldest man on earth to the rest of the world, but he’d confided in her, laughed with her, kissed her.
She did not want to let him go.
* * *
Dean’s jet landed in Grennady four hours after the plane carrying Kristen, Stella and the portion of Suminski Stuff staff who were working on the series of games. Jason was staying in New York to do some PR and some hand-holding, so Dean had met him for breakfast before he’d flown out. But he’d been glad to have the excuse of meeting Jason, so he didn’t have to spend a long flight with Kristen, tempted by another kiss, wishing circumstances in his life were different. Because his life wasn’t different. It couldn’t be different. He was who he was.
And damn it! Though he’d had a rough beginning and made one huge mistake involving Alexandros Sancho, he was basically a lucky guy. Mostly because that mistake with Alexandros had taught him some hard lessons. He now did nothing without forethought. Lots of forethought.
Kissing Kristen might have been the most impulsive thing he’d ever done, but it hadn’t been thoughtless. He knew he’d never see her again. Even though they’d soon be in the same small country, there was a chasm of protocol between them. He’d deal with her boss because that was the level he was on. She’d deal with Stella because that was the level she was on. Nine chances out of ten he wouldn’t even see her in passing.
He’d reasoned all that out before he’d kissed her and he’d been fine with it. But he hadn’t counted on her lips being so soft or her kiss being so tempting. He hadn’t counted on his head spinning and his hormones begging to take over. Still, he’d kept control. He’d stepped away like a gentleman.
And he’d eliminated a long plane ride with her by leaving for Grennady much later than his staff, and now here he was alone...
In the middle of the night.
In the frozen tundra.
Good God, it was cold!
And dark. Darker than he’d ever seen.
Of course, having grown up in the city, accustomed to streetlights, car lights and neon signs, he hadn’t really been exposed to darkness.
He looked up and simply stared for a few seconds. The twinkle of a million stars, light-years away, almost stole his breath—which wouldn’t be too hard to do since it was a visible puff of freezing air every time he exhaled.
Crap! It was cold!
And they’d lost a day. Considering time difference and travel across an ocean, it was late Monday night, early Tuesday morning, depending on how you looked at it. He was cold, late, and he’d had to force himself away from the first woman who’d really interested him in ten years. This trip was off to a fantastic start.
He wasted no time racing to the limo that awaited him. But instead of the driver opening the door, Kristen appeared at his side and pulled the latch to offer him entry.
“Good evening.”
He had to shake himself to keep from staring at her. He’d meticulously planned it so he’d never see her again. Yet here she was.
He took another freezing breath to give himself time to recover from the shock, to stop the tingle that sprang to his lips, to fight his eyes from drinking in the sight of her. To get himself back into work mode. To remember she was an underling to the people with whom he’d be dealing for the next six weeks. And to speak normally.
