expect Bruce to give you CEG. Why don’t you just stick to the feminine hygiene products and leave CEG to someone who can handle it?”
In that instant, her heart shriveled. She realized that all the times Dell had been flirtatiously teasing her, inside he’d been laughing at her clumsiness and labeling her as incompetent. He truly didn’t think she was capable of competing on his level. If he knew how she’d fallen for him over those fleeting shared moments, he’d have an even bigger laugh at her expense.
She felt like a fool. Her wounded pride threatened to disable her, but she hardened her jaw and spoke through clenched teeth. “My name is Gabrielle. And no matter what Bruce decides, please don’t patronize me, Dell.”
Something unrecognizable flared in his eyes—hostility? Resentment?
Bruce’s door suddenly swung open and he beckoned them both inside. Gabrielle preceded Dell, her body stiff, and wondered if she’d be able to back up the statements rolling out of her mouth, which seemed to have a mind of its own this morning.
That darn magazine article had blown her up with false bravado. If Bruce gave the account to Dell and asked her to assist, she’d be stuck working with Dell under rather tense circumstances.
Bruce Noble leaned against the front of his desk, his arms folded. “I just got off the phone with Eddie Fosser at CEG. He also wants to know who’ll be taking over the account. I told him my dilemma.” He gestured toward Dell. “On one hand I have a senior account executive who would fit nicely into the CEG corporate environment.”
Dell smiled, and Gabrielle seethed. “Fit in,” meaning a testosterone-laden male.
Then Bruce gestured to her. “On the other hand I have a junior account executive who is familiar with the client’s products and might have been, er—” he coughed “—inadvertently overlooked for past opportunities.”
Gabrielle smiled—maybe Bruce was going to do the right thing after all.
“So Eddie and I were talking, and he suggested something that might give you both a chance to prove yourselves.”
She and Dell exchanged a puzzled glance, and she felt some measure of relief that apparently he didn’t know what their boss had in mind.
“CEG is sponsoring a wilderness survival trip this weekend in the Georgia mountains with their celebrity spokesman. Eddie will be there with some other CEG execs, and a couple of their big customers. It’s a good-natured competition to showcase their products, with each player accumulating points. Eddie suggested that both of you attend and…whichever one of you scores the highest will get the account.”
A vacuum of silence pulled at her ears.
“This is based on athletic ability?” Dell asked, shooting an amused smile in her direction.
“Well, certainly athleticism will help,” Bruce said, “but it’s more like a test of wills…and logic. And it’ll give you a chance to interact with Eddie and his people.” Bruce clapped his hands together. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s on the Amicalola Falls State Park property. You’d leave Thursday and return Monday. What do you say?”
Gabrielle felt like an animal trapped in a searchlight…in a tree…having sex…upside down. Compete with Dell in a wilderness survival weekend? There must be thousands of ways for him to humiliate her in the woods.
“I think it’s a great idea, too,” Dell said, then turned to Gabrielle, his eyes alight with predetermined victory, his mouth barely able to contain a grin. “But if you’re not up to it, Gabrielle, then just say so and we’ll go back to the original arrangement—I’ll take the lead on the account, and you’ll be my assistant.”
She swallowed hard, her mind racing over the advice in the “Adrenaline Rush” article.
Then Dell lowered his head and leaned slightly toward her. “Come on, Gabby,” he whispered in a taunting voice for her ears only. “I dare you.”
At his challenging words, an unfamiliar strength swelled in her chest—at least she hoped it was strength, and not a reaction to the fact that for the first time, Dell would have to deal with her as a rival, a competitor, a peer.
The article had described moments like this—when a person’s life choices, past and future, seemed to converge into one decision that had to be made on gut instinct and self-trust.
She looked Dell Kingston square in his dreamy eyes and, after almost faltering under the sheer impact of his sexy gaze, she found her voice. “You’re on.”
A cocky grin split his face and he extended his hand to her. “Then may the best man—or woman—win.”
She stared at his large hand before clasping it with her own, unprepared for the shock of his warm fingers swallowing hers. His gaze raked her up and down, taking in every inch of the exterior she’d carefully constructed over the weekend—a facade of confidence that shook precariously when Dell looked at her that way…the way a man looked at a woman.
On a challenge bolstered by a silly dare, she’d agreed to spend four days in the woods with this man.
And four nights.
And something in his never-ending eyes told her that with all the dangers in the wild, Dell Kingston himself posed the biggest threat to her well-being…and to her state of mind.
4
“I STILL THINK you’ve lost your freaking mind,” Tori said, her eyes bleary, her sleep-mussed hair sticking up at all angles. “First you go through some Stepford executive makeover, and now you’re heading off to the mountains with…that man.”
“We’ve been over this,” Gabrielle said, handing over McGee, who squirmed in Tori’s unfamiliar arms. “I have to do this to get the CEG account.”
“I don’t know why that stupid account is so important to you.”
Detecting a note of abandonment in her friend’s voice, she laid a hand on her arm. “Tori, you were the one who pointed out the inequity of the account assignments. I’m only fighting for what I deserve.”
But instead of cheering up, Tori only looked more morose. “I’ve seen documentaries on these wilderness survival trips—they lure you in with romantic notions of sitting around the campfire, and the next thing you know, you’re running for your life, being hunted by some guy with a crossbow.”
Gabrielle squinted. “You watch way too much television. And I assure you, there were no romantic promises. I’m expecting the worst—eating bugs, dangling from cliffs—”
“Sharing a tent with Dell Kingston.”
Gabrielle blinked. “What? Now who’s lost their mind?”
“That’s what everyone in the office is saying,” Tori said, her voice tinged with a gossipy tone. “That Dell is going to get the CEG account and get into your pants.”
Anger flared in her chest. “Well, they’re wrong, and you can tell them so.”
“Just be careful,” Tori said earnestly. “I know how you feel about Dell—”
“I
