“So later you’ll show up in your soldier’s clothes?”
“I promise.”
She glanced up at him and grinned. “Can I swoon?”
“Do you want to?”
“With every breath I take.”
“Liar,” he murmured, then kissed her briefly before releasing her and grabbing her suitcase as well as his own.
She followed him into the lodge.
The main room was huge, both wide and tall, soaring up three stories. On the far wall was a fireplace large enough to host a committee meeting. There was plenty of wood and trophy heads mounted on the wall. The reception desk stretched for about fifty feet. It was midafternoon on a Friday and the place should have been crowded. Instead she saw only one other guest. Jeff had told her they rented the entire place even though their client list was kept at less than twenty-five. She couldn’t imagine what the executives were spending on the three-day course. Although if the information kept them alive, how could they put a price on the weekend?
This was Jeff’s world and she was about to get an inside view of it. She couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Maybe—
Jeff stopped just short of the reception desk and turned to her. “What did you want to do about a room?” he asked.
Ashley blinked. “A room? I’d prefer to have one. Sleeping in the car has never been my idea of a good time.”
“Did you want one of your own?”
It took her a second to figure out what he was asking. A room of her own, as in did she want them to share a room?
“We’re not at home,” he continued, avoiding her gaze, which was so unlike Jeff. “I thought you might prefer to have the privacy.”
He was nervous, she thought suddenly. And embarrassed, if his shuffling feet were anything to go by. She wouldn’t have thought Jeff capable of either emotion.
“Will I be in the way if I stay with you?”
His gray gaze settled on her face. His look was so intense, it was almost like being touched by him.
“I’d prefer us to be together,” he said, “but it’s your call.”
She raised herself on tiptoes. “Do you think they have a room with a mirror on the ceiling?”
He grinned. “I’ll ask.”
He moved to the reception desk. As he registered them, Ashley felt a fluttering sensation in the center of her chest. A warm, mushy kind of fluttering that occurred more and more when she was with Jeff. She knew what it meant and it scared her to death. She didnotwant to be falling for this man. Especially when she didn’t know what he was feeling about her. She wanted to think that this mattered to him, that it was more than just casual, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Ready?” he asked.
“What?”
She glanced around and saw that their bags had been whisked away. He handed her a room key, then put his hand on the small of her back to urge her forward. They walked down a long corridor that led to the conference rooms. Double doors stood open. A young woman smiled and handed Jeff a clipboard and Ashley a name tag. Only her first name had been printed in block letters.
“Let’s go,” he said, and motioned for her to step into the conference room. Ashley prayed for courage, then did as he requested.
The room was about forty by forty, with several conference tables set up, facing front. About two dozen people stood talking in small groups. There were only two other women and they were both older than Ashley by at least a decade.
All the name tags had first names only, with no indication of who was whom or where anyone was from. She noticed several of Jeff’s staff standing around the perimeter of the room. Zane was up in front, talking with one of the hotel staff. When he saw Jeff, he shook hands with the staff member and moved toward his partner. Ashley took a seat at the end of one of the tables. No one might be identified by location and occupation, but she could tell that everyone here was wealthy, powerful and probably tipped more than she made in a year. Why on earth had she let herself be talked into this?
“Welcome,” Jeff said as he moved to the front of the room. “Ritter/Rankin Security is pleased to have you here for our executive security weekend retreat. I’m Jeff Ritter and this is my partner, Zane Rankin.”
Everyone took a seat. A short, round man sat next to Ashley. He appeared to be close to sixty and had the most gorgeous diamond pinky ring she’d ever seen. His suit looked softer than her flannel pj’s and she would swear she’d seen his face in the international financial section of the Seattle paper. Please God, don’t let him want to exchange business cards, she thought humorously.
“One of our staff members is moving among you, passing out a schedule for the weekend,” Jeff continued.
