Worth the Risk (3 page)

Dean rose with a little dodge to the side so as not to intrude on their handshake. He stepped back, then turned to face his dad.

The old guy looked surprised to see him. “Dean? What are you doing out here?” He looked from him to Samantha, his brow furrowing. “You haven’t been bothering this young lady, have you?”

“I don’t think so, sir. Just a little friendly conversation. I understand she’s ready to knock your socks off with a killer presentation.” He winked at her. He truly wanted her to do well. Knew she’d do well. But knew he’d do better. If he didn’t take the cocky approach, he wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

Samantha graced him with an appreciative tight-lipped smile, her eyes sparkling, before returning her attention to his dad.

She’d dazzle his father, Dean had no doubt of that. But worse, so help him God, he wanted her again. He thought after five years he’d purged her from his system, but truth be told, she still held a special spot inside him, her effortless ambush of his body and mind testament to that.

Dean was in deep shit.

“Worried?” his dad asked him, a bit of playfulness in his tone.

“Just a little.”

“Well, I’m anxious to hear what she’s got to say, so let’s head on back to my office, shall we?” He gestured Samantha to his side. “And call me Bill.” The two walked away without a second glance back at Dean.

When they reached the reception desk, Dean decided he had to do something. “Hold on.” They paused, looked over their shoulders. Dean stepped beside the desk. “Mind if I have a quick word with Samantha?”

For a moment Dean thought he’d be denied. His father wasn’t the most patient man, and a frown worse than a dagger to the heart crossed Sam’s face.

But when his father said, “That’s up to the lady,” in a warm voice, he knew Sam couldn’t deny him a moment without looking inconsiderate, rival or not.

“Sure,” she answered with less enthusiasm than Dean would have liked. Of course, she had to be businesslike in front of the president and CEO of World Heritage Fund.

“Why don’t you bring her back to my office when you’re finished?”

“Will do.” Dean turned to Gloria as his father stepped away. “Can I use your pen?”

“What in the world are you doing?” Sam whispered as he took her elbow to steer her away from the desk, and from listening ears.

Dean steadied himself on the back of the couch. Touching her sent impossibly hot pulses through his veins, knocking him completely off balance. “I wanted to know if you’d have dinner with me tonight.”

“Dean.” The sound of his name on her lips made him determined to get his way.

“Look, I know we’re competing against each other here, but I’d love to spend a little more time with you. Catch up.” Her worried eyes told him she didn’t know what to do or say. He couldn’t blame her. He’d hurt her when they’d parted ways. He would hurt her again when he got the contract.

“How about a drink, at least? There’s a great bar I go to when I’m in town.”

She kept him waiting for a few torturous seconds, their eyes tangling with memories, regrets, anxiety…and questions. Finally she said, “Okay. One drink.”

“Great.” He lifted her hand and, pulling the cap off the pen with his teeth, wrote a set of numbers on her palm. A breathy chuckle left her lips before he replaced the pen into the cap with perfect precision.

“That’s my cell phone number. Call me a little later and we’ll work out the details.”

“All right.”

They walked back to his father’s office in silence, but the electricity in the air between them crackled. Dean knew he was being a fool, knew he needed to stay focused on the job and landing the contract from his father. Not landing in bed with Samantha.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t help himself.

Samantha Bennett still took his breath away. Still stirred a desire in him that no one else had come close to duplicating.

He heard her take a deep breath as they reached the office door.

“See you later,” she said, then disappeared before he had a chance to wish her luck.

As the door gently shut, he remained rooted to his spot, thinking and breathing in the scent of her that lingered in the hallway. He didn’t regret walking away from her five years ago. How could he? He’d traveled the globe and worked hard for something he strongly believed in. He’d gleaned the experience and knowledge to move on to bigger and better things. Had established his own company at the age of twenty-eight. He’d always wanted nothing more than freedom and self-reliance. His mantra? Never surrender. And that applied to both his professional and personal life.

But as fate would have it, the beautiful blue-eyed girl who he’d impulsively trekked through half a dozen states with, all while falling head over heels for, was back in his life.

He was older now. Wiser. Or maybe not, considering that while he knew it wasn’t the best idea, he still wondered if she’d agree to rekindle things for the entire weekend. A reunion of sorts. But if she consented, could he walk away from her again?

The three reached the table, McCall pulling out her chair. She gave a small smile in thanks and couldn’t help but notice his gaze linger on her longer than necessary. While his interest flattered her, Samantha had only one man on her mind.

Remember the time we skinny dipped
… Oh, she remembered all right. She remembered
everything
about her weeks with Dean Malloy. Every moment was etched into her psyche in high definition 3D.

“Sam,” Mr. Malloy said, “before you launch into your presentation, I’d like to ask a couple personal questions. It’s procedure on my part. I like to know who I might be working with.”

“Sure,” she said, pushing away any and all thoughts of Dean before they screwed up her meeting. Damn him for stirring emotions inside her she’d long kept tucked away.

She put her leather folio case on the hardwood floor so it leaned against her chair leg. Her hands weren’t so easy to figure out. She clasped them in front of her, forearms on the table, but a second later slid her arms down to her sides and wrapped each hand around the edge of her seat.

“Don’t be nervous,” McCall whispered, leaning into her personal space. “He started the same way with me.”

“I’m not nervous. But I have a feeling Mr. Malloy already knows everything about me.” Samantha had done her research—she’d bet money he’d done his. Did he know about her brief relationship with Dean? Had Dean ever mentioned her?

Her sister and cousin knew about that summer and had helped wipe away more tears than Sam cared to admit. But she hadn’t told anyone else. When her father had pressed her for reasons why she wanted to pursue work in the nonprofit world of environmentalism, she’d kept to herself the man who had changed everything for her, the man who had opened her eyes to the really important stuff. She didn’t want her dad soiling Dean the way he’d soiled everything else in her life.

As Mr. Malloy considered her words, he relaxed into his seat and laid his palms flat on the table in front of him.

“Tell me the one spot on this planet that means the most to you,” he said.

Simple words. Not a simple answer.

She immediately felt her face flush as snapshot after snapshot of her escapades with Dean flashed in her mind. The adventures they’d had in some of the most beautiful spots in the country and the places where they’d stood hand in hand in awe, marveling at the scenery, were memories she’d carry with her forever. Nothing meant more to her than those few weeks.

She glanced around the office, feeling no discomfort at taking time to contemplate her answer. Framed photographs of architectural projects from around the world decorated the charcoal-colored walls. While Samantha hadn’t been to any of them, she recognized the Taos Pueblo in New Mexico, the Funchal Cathedral in Portugal, Westminster Abbey Sedilia in the UK, and the Great Wall of China.

“Boundary Springs in Crater Lake National Park.” The spot where she’d realized she was hopelessly in love with Dean.

“That’s interesting.” Mr. Malloy’s gaze matched his tone of voice—curious, but not quite suspicious. “My son says that’s a favorite of his as well.”

A woman less skilled at concealing her feelings would have cracked, but not Samantha. No matter how telling this piece of information was, she’d long ago replaced adoration for nonchalance where Dean was concerned—and she would cling to that decision no matter what.

“Have you been there as well?” Samantha asked. “It’s a spectacular place.”

“I haven’t. But I’ll be sure to make a mental note of it.” If he’d caught any sort of connection between herself and Dean, it didn’t show on his face. “And the one place you must see before you die?”

“That’s easy. Machu Picchu.”

“Ahh. The Incan settlement in the Andes Mountains
is
breathtaking. I was there many years ago when the Temple of the Sun made it onto our Watch List. We sent a team to reinforce the infrastructure and to help the people there come up with a conservation plan.”

Samantha sighed. She wanted to visit Peru and so many other places around the world. If she could make her job with Global Site permanent, it guaranteed she’d travel far and wide as an advocate for the preservation movement.

“I imagine you’ve been to hundreds of out-of-the-way places.” She reached for her portfolio, nervous about answering more personal questions. She didn’t want to appear rude, but the sooner she started with her presentation, the better. She’d poured her heart and soul into the proposal, and she knew her ideas were good. But even with the full backing of her bosses, she still hadn’t been in the business as long as Dean. An unwelcome feeling of doubt had wormed its way into her thoughts after their exchange in the waiting area.

“Too many to remember.” He looked to McCall. “But I’m not getting any younger, so this guy’s racking up the frequent flier miles now.”

“With pleasure,” McCall said.

“Well, Route 66 will probably add more driving miles than anything else. Would it be okay if I shared Global Site’s vision for how we can work with you to revitalize the highway and landmarks along the historic route now?”

“Sure,” Mr. Malloy said.

Samantha pulled out two reports and handed them to the men. “Since you added Route 66 to your Watch List of places in jeopardy, Global Site has taken an active interest in it as well.”

Despite the cool office temperature, a trickle of sweat slid down Samantha’s lower back. She had to land this contract. Had to keep her job and paycheck. She stacked her own papers neatly in front of her and sat up taller. The deep breath she tried to be discreet about didn’t go unnoticed by McCall, and he gave her a closed-mouth smile. The gesture reached his pale green eyes and gave her the silent support she needed to kick some cultural heritage ass.

“Let’s hear what you have in mind.” Mr. Malloy didn’t bother with the report. He sat back and gave Samantha his full attention.

“We’d like to start in Chicago and head west. By combining our forces with yours, we estimate covering the two-thousand-plus miles will take approximately twenty-four to thirty-six months. We can’t possibly cover every mile, so we propose targeting abandoned and fire-damaged original buildings, bridges, and highway remnants that can once again open to transportation independently or by incorporation into current highways.”

Mr. Malloy nodded. “That sounds logical. You think tackling the project in a linear fashion is best?”

“We do. We’ll reach out to local preservation organizations as well as community groups in a piggyback method that we believe will result in greater and greater word of mouth and state participation as we make our way to California. Sort of like a Conga line.”

Both men chuckled. Samantha had debated over whether or not to use that line, but a coworker had told her not to forget to add it just before she’d left the office for her flight. She was happy to find her belief that environmentalists had a good sense of humor to be true.

“How do we decide which areas to skip?” McCall asked.