Page 4 of Driving Him Wild

These days I turned away more requests from family members eager to promote their own sectors

of the family business almost as much as I turned away other public business requests.

In content and advertisement alone, the magazine was scheduled almost twelve months in advance.

Which was why nothing could be allowed to get in the way of its smooth running.

Not even the man lauded as a genius with a camera. The man currently casting a disdainful eye

over the assembled crew, the two heavy-duty glacier helicopters standing two hundred feet away

waiting to transport us away from this beautiful-but-deadly frozen tundra once we were done, and the half-dozen tents set up around the camp, before meeting mine.

His eyes lingered a second or two longer, a touch of sensual awareness stealing into his face when

his gaze dropped to my mouth. And stayed.

Two of the huskies began yapping at each other. A sharp whistle from Jensen silenced them

immediately. He blinked and shifted his gaze, and that tight little frisson of awareness dissipated.

‘This isn’t what I signed up for.’

‘Let me get this straight. You turn up an hour late only to inform me that you won’t be doing the job you’ve been contracted to do?’

Everyone around us grew still.

‘I despise subterfuge, Miss...what did you say your name was?’

‘I’m Graciela Mortimer.’ I held out my hand.

Recognition finally dawned as he slowly tugged off his thick glove. His gaze left my face, travelled down my body to my feet before rising again. His large hand engulfed mine and his expression heated up by a degree or two. Not the kind of instant appreciation I was used to but even that sent another spark of awareness through me. Drew my attention back to those lips. To everything I would’ve let

myself imagine they could do. If I were interested.

Which I most definitely was not, I told myself, ignoring the slight surge of disappointment when he dropped my hand and tugged his glove back on.

‘Miss Mortimer. I wasn’t aware you would be here.’ His tone suggested what most did. That the

Ice Princess of Charity only got involved with her work when it was time to throw another gala to

raise money for her various causes. That, like most, he also believed not every project I put my name to was mine from inception to execution. That I merelydabbleduntil boredom led me elsewhere.

I glanced at Larry, who was writhing in discomfort. ‘I know you’ve been dealing with Larry, but

I’d appreciate you explaining to me what exactly is going on here. What exactly were you told?’

‘I was led to believe this would be awildlifeshoot.’

His emphasis didn’t go unnoticed.

‘And that’s exactly what it is.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Excuse me, but if that’s the case, why do I see two helicopters and

supermodels and stylists all around me? I’m not sure what your definition of wildlife is, but it’s

certainly not supermodels in the wild.’

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