“So are you in?” Ethan asked.
Corrie gave Ford a once-over, searching his face. Despite thescowl, she noted the panic in his eyes. Worry that she might actually say no.
Clearly, they were onto something big, and he was afraid he might lose it if he didn’t have her help. Finding out more was worth the pain of having to spend a car ride and an evening in Ford’s company.
At least the scenery was decent.
“All right, I’m in. But I reserve the right to change my mind in the morning.”
Both Ford and Ethan breathed sighs of relief as their shoulders relaxed, and Ford walked toward Corrie. A rush of heat washed over her at his proximity.
“Trust me... You won’t be changing your mind,” he whispered in her ear as he reached down to grab her bags.
His warm breath, laced with spearmint, tickled behind her ear, sending another sizzling inferno soaring through her body. Though, unlike the last time, this one was centered around her nether regions.
But if there was one person in the world she didn’t trust with anything—especiallyher nether regions—it was Dr. Ford Matthews.
Chapter
Two
This was a bad idea. Averybad idea.
The wind whipped through Corrie’s hair as they traveled down the dirt road. Even though she had it pinned to the back of her head, a few unruly deep brown waves dipped with dark honey danced through the air, brushing across the smooth golden skin of her face.
Dr. Corrie Mejía was even more beautiful than he’d remembered.
Too bad she hated his guts. Not that he could blame her. Hell, sometimes he hated himself, too, or at least the times when he put on that smarmy act like he’d done at the airport. But he couldn’t help it. Whenever he was around her—her and only her—Ford the Douchebag always made an appearance.
He couldn’t believe he’d actually told her she could call himboss.
Douche. Bag.
He shook his head thinking about it, catching Corrie’s curious glance in the rearview mirror. A glance that quickly turnedintense as those rich brown eyes bore through him like lasers. Perhaps this was her attempt at being menacing. Little did she know, however, that the only thing on his mind was wondering what those eyes would look like staring up at him from his bed. Staring at him like that one night they’d spent alone in the library.
Did she ever think about that night, too?
This dig waswaytoo long to be on a forced sexual sabbatical while in the Mexican jungle with Corrie around,especiallyif she kept wearing outfits that hugged every single one of her soft curves the way this one did.
“How much longer?” she called out.
“About fifteen minutes,” he called over the wind and the roaring engine as they careened down the bumpiest dirt road in all of Mexico, lined with Mexican elms.
“Good. My back’s killing me,” she said as she arched her torso, pushing out her breasts even farther.
Why? Why couldn’t the only person with any possibility of helping him look like a troll? Or at least not be a goddess like Corrie? Ford wouldn’t mind her tearing off his clothes given the opportunity.
A small part of him hoped that she’d change her mind. That they’d get in one of their infamous arguments once he showed her the site—or, preferably, even before—and that she’d leave. In many ways, it would be better to simply let the investor know that they’d failed rather than have to put up with Dr. Corrie Mejía for who knows how long. He already knew from experience that they worked terribly together, if you could call itworking togetherat all. He didn’t need to add sexual frustration on top of it.
Because if there was one thing Ford knew, it was that he andCorrie couldneversleep together. Ever. No matter how many times he’d thought about it. Because if there wasanotherthing he knew, it was that sleeping with Corrie would end disastrously, giving her yet another reason to hate him more than she already did.
But Ford was desperate. So desperate he’d willingly risk all the wrath and fury of Corrie Mejía if it meant he might be able to save his mother.
A tear pricked his eye, and he quickly blinked it away, though not before earning another curious look from Corrie. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, Corrie always watching him. He couldn’t tell if it was suspicion or something else, but every time he caught her eye, his X-rated imagination strayed and kicked up the temperature another couple of degrees. The conditions were bad enough as it was. More heat was the last thing Ford needed.
Well, that and another failure to add to his growing list.
Dusk settled over the heavily canopied jungle, casting darkness over the area. He’d hoped they would arrive earlier so they could give Corrie a tour this evening, but now it would have to wait until morning. With this new arrangement, though, and the potential that she might pull the plug in the morning, he didn’t really want to get into all the specifics of the dig. Maybe Ethan trusted her, but Ford hardly trusted anyone in this business, at least not until they’d had time to build a solid foundation. What he was doing on a dig funded by a complete stranger was beyond him. But, so far, the investor, Pierre Vautour, had come through on every promise. No expense spared. And despite his rocky relationship with his boss at Yale, he trusted that Dr. Crawley wouldn’t have sent him astray by introducing him to Mr. Vautour in the first place.
