eyes narrowed. ‘You look more than good. That Scottish sci-fi geek couldn’t take his eyes off you.’
‘It’s the collectors’ edition tee shirt—he wants it.’
‘He wants what’s in it. But he can’t have it. I want it more.’ His hands ran down her sides and it was all she could do not to melt into him.
Heaven help her, she was being turned on by macho possessive talk. ‘I’m not an “it” and I’m at work.’
He nodded slowly and took a step back, his hands a feathering motion over her stomach as he stepped away. Too intimate and yet not enough. Damn. Her body screamed go-ahead-get-on-me. She didn’t let that out; instead she strapped on a polite, finite, response. Because this guy would bring nothing but bad-boy trouble. ‘I’d better get back to the bus, but thanks for stopping to say hi. It was nice to see you.’
His grin broadened, not seeming to take in her rebuff at all. ‘Likewise.’
* * *
Ruben felt ridiculously pleased with himself for having tracked her down. It had taken less than five minutes in an online search. He’d hatched a cunning plan within another five. So now phase one was complete. Yes, having seen the bloom on her cheeks and the sparkle zing in her eye, he knew phases two and three were going to go so smoothly. He had the green light. An outsize amount of relief surged at her unguarded response because he was desperately—stupidly—hot for her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever had a one-night stand before. He’d indulged in many a night of mutual thrills and minimal complexity. Just a ‘hi’ and a recognition of heat—that chemistry that guaranteed each would get their physical kicks. Enjoyable. Ultimately forgettable.
But Ellie Summers had not been forgettable. It wasn’t even the sex that he remembered most—although he was getting off on some seriously good slow-mo mental replays. It was her priceless reaction the next day—the earnest apologies and then the gorgeous giggles. Yeah, that brave ability to see the funny side and parry his shameless flirt with a tart, bald humour. And dignity. He hadn’t been sure if she was cut up by that Nathan guy or not. He suspected not, but he’d decided to give her space to lick her wounds anyway. And he’d expected his usual once-done, all-done attitude would kick in.
It hadn’t. So that was why he was leaning against his car, not caring about the rain, watching her tour bus slowly move out of the cave’s car park.
* * *
At 9:00 a.m. the next day Ellie was in the office, wearing more make-up than usual to cover the effects of her lack of sleep due to an embarrassing amount of Ruben obsessing. But two minutes later, natural effervescence had brought a smile to her face. ‘I’m so pleased for you!’ she squealed at her beaming boss.
‘I’m pleased for me too! And I want to thank you so much.’
‘It has nothing to do with me.’ Ellie shook her head. The full-colour, double-page magazine spread featuring the popular movie-site tour company definitely had nothing to do with her given she’d only been on the payroll the last four weeks.
‘Oh, yes, it has,’ Bridie squealed back at her. ‘You’ve already got a name as the best guide evah—did you know that group of German lads set up a Facebook page as a tribute to the tour? Although the page is mainly about you—they put your picture all over it.’
‘They didn’t.’ Ellie gaped and embarrassment burned her skin from the inside out.
‘Uh-huh. It’s a brilliant piece of word-of-mouth marketing.’ Bridie tapped on her computer, bringing up the website. ‘Or pictures-of-tour-goddess marketing. Because as we know, a picture tells a thousand words. I put a link to it on our website as one of the testimonials, as well as liking it on our own Facebook page, of course.’
‘You didn’t.’ Ellie winced at the picture of her mid-spiel in front of the remains of the futuristic epic that had been filmed a few kilometres up the road a few years ago—the one that had been a massive hit in Germany. They’d pinched the picture of her from the official company website too, but at least in that one she wasn’t wearing a too-tight replica costume.
‘Yes, and now we’re fully booked for the next two months and our Internet bookings are growing at a phenomenal rate and that’s before this article came out.’ Bridie’s smile faded. ‘Although I suspect some of our clients are going to be disappointed that it’s not you taking this tour this weekend.’
‘I’m not taking the tour?’ Surprised, Ellie turned from the cringe-inducing page up on the computer. She was all geared up for it—more than happy to work weekends and extra shifts. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do. While she was the happiest she’d ever been career-wise in her life, her personal life was dead as a dodo—though she was happy about that too. She was in restorative mode, building her new career, working on her personal issues. That left no room for a man. And she refused, absolutely refused, to think about him. Of course last night she’d absolutely failed on that front. And the scenes her subconscious had chosen to replay in her dreams—well, they’d been equally impossible to control.
Now, for some reason, Bridie looked even more excited. ‘No, because I’m sending you on a reconnaissance mission.’
‘A what?’
Bridie looked about to burst. ‘You know Arche?’
Of course she knew Arche. The multimillion-dollar dystopian fantasy duo had been filmed almost exclusively in New Zealand. It was one of her favourite film series; she’d listed it first in her tour-guide bio on the company website. There was one stop on her usual tour that had a twenty-second scene in the second film; she always stopped there and re-enacted it for the tourists. Inevitably there was at least one Arche-freak on the bus who loved it as much as she did.
‘We might be granted access to it.’ Bridie looked about to burst.
‘What?’ No one had been able to get into that set. The lower central South Island station where most of the action had been filmed was now one of those exclusive resort things for super-wealthy people. Some ancient South American rock star had opened it up for his equally famous and loaded buddies. Absolutely the kind of place she’d want to avoid—those kinds of exclusive retreat places made her think about not-so-distant mortifying events.
‘They’re thinking of allowing one tour operator in. And they want one of our reps to check it out.’
‘And you want me to go?’ Ellie gaped.
Bridie nodded furiously. ‘By special request. They had a mystery shopper on all our tours and you’re the guide who impressed them—so much so they want you to go check out the place and come up with some ideas for what you’d cover on a tour there.’ Bridie jumped up from her seat and zipped around the office like a centipede on speed.
‘But that’s crazy,’ Ellie screeched, collapsing into the nearest chair as her legs went woolly. ‘I’m the newest recruit. You can’t possibly trust me to do this.’
‘It’s not crazy. You’re the one who knows those two films backwards—you can quote whole chunks of the dialogue, I heard you do it with one of those Brits the other day. You might be the newest recruit, but you’re the best, most dedicated guide we’ve got.’
‘But I can’t represent you, I can’t do the whole sales thing.’ While she’d worked heaps on contracts at
