“Hitting the base as a human snowball doesn’t count.”
“Real funny, Eve.”
She’d thought so. Smiling to herself, she reached for the thick brown leather notebook that held Taylor’s travel itinerary. Flipping through the months, Eve noted that her sister had scheduled a trip to La Grave for mid December. Three of the four client slots were already filled.
“There’s only one slot available,” she told him. “The adventure runs five days, right before Christmas. If you’re interested . . .”
He scratched his stubbled jaw. “I’m thinking.”
“If you have to think, you don’t want the thrill.” She took a step back from the counter. “Why not just ask Taylor out? Dinner and a movie could save on broken bones. La Meije is treacherous.”
“Your sister likes action.”
“Taylor’s not on the go every second of every day. She exhales, just like everyone else.”
“After we race down the mountain, we’ll exhale together at the hotel, in my suite.”
Wishful thinking on his part. Taylor never got involved with her clients. Her adventures were all business. Eve tapped her gold-link watch, reminding him, “Thrill Seekers closed at eight. It’s now almost nine.”
“It’s been great talking with you too.” His gray eyes laughed at her.
Eve didn’t return his laughter. For some unknown reason, she’d wanted to scare him off any and all adventures. She didn’t know why, but she’d felt a compulsion to do so. Like Taylor, she always went with her gut. “If you’re not in any big hurry to end your life, take all the time you need to make up your mind.”
“No hard sell?” Sloan strolled across the room to an armchair and made himself comfortable. He picked up a skiing magazine displayed on a side table and thumbed through it. “Thought you’d want my business. I expected you to be more persuasive.”
Eve stared after him. The man didn’t understand business closed. He lived life on his own time, and didn’t care whether he inconvenienced others.
Seated now, McCaffrey looked at home among the shadows, his body as solid as the brick wall at his back, a poster boy for fitness. Sadly, he was slow to comprehend that a physique honed for baseball differed greatly from a body ready for downhill. On the mountain, even the most athletic of men discovered muscles he’d never known existed.
“I never push a client to kill himself,” she finally answered. “Once you sign up, there are no refunds.”
He slouched deeper in the chair. “You ever skied La Grave?”
Eve shook her head. “I’m not a thrill seeker.”
“Yet Taylor is. Are you the postman’s baby?”
She’d heard that question a thousand times. It hadn’t bothered her until Sloan McCaffrey asked it. Suddenly prickly, she reached beneath the counter for a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels. She sprayed and wiped down the glass countertop, then picked her words carefully.
“Taylor inherited the sporting gene. I have the business sense. I travel with her to scout out locations so I can convey the risk factor to clients. I don’t own equipment, nor do I ever plan to hand my life over to a mountain, wild rapids, or the deep blue sea.”
“Not an ounce of daredevil in your soul?”
“I play it safe.”
“I want to play with Taylor.” Sloan tossed down his magazine, then rose from the leather chair. He crossed back to her, his shadow on the wall big and imposing and once again touching hers. He had an easy roll to his hips. His expression was smug. “How much?” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. His gray T-shirt separated from his jeans, and Eve caught the number three tattooed over his groin.
Sloan caught her checking out his tat. “A warning to women,” he explained. “Three dates and I’m gone.”
“What if the woman you’re dating has a ‘two’ tattoo rule?”
“Makes it easier on me.”
Eve rolled her eyes. She’d met a lot of men through Thrill Seekers. None were as arrogant and into themselves as Sloan McCaffrey. The man was an ass.
“La Grave will run you ten grand.” She drew an information packet from a drawer behind the counter and handed it to him. “Inside you’ll find a list of equipment as well as names of several insurance companies who offer high-risk policies. Be sure your travel insurance is fully paid up prior to departure. You might want to increase your life insurance as well. The hotel will require that you leave a next-of-kin address and your medical insurance details at the reception desk before you head up the mountain. Makes it easier on Taylor.”
Sloan extracted a check from his black leather wallet and wrote it out for the required amount. He slid it across the counter to Eve. Their fingers brushed, the tips sparking, as if they’d both scuffed their feet across the carpet, producing static electricity.
He looked at her strangely.
She dropped her gaze.
Drawing her hand back, she slipped the check into a bank bag, then shook her head disbelievingly. “The price men pay to be with my sister.”
“Obviously I’m not the first.”
“Nor will you be the last.”
“Taylor’s hot. The trip’s well worth the money.”
“My sister’s an excellent guide. If you listen to her and don’t spit in Mother Nature’s eye, you’ll have the adventure of a lifetime.”
“Why don’t you come along?”
To her surprise, Sloan leaned across the counter, fingering a tendril of hair that had escaped her French braid. Calloused skin brushed against her neck, and she flinched, her breath catching on the way out as he tucked the loose strand behind her ear.
Intimate and dangerous.
His gaze lingered on her lips, and she licked them self-consciously. The man made her nervous.
With a light tug on her braid, he stated, “I’ve always wanted to do sisters.”
“Taylor and I don’t share men.” A split second of vulnerability and he’d played her. She slapped his hand away.
Sloan McCaffrey knew that if he smiled, Eve Hannah would rip him a new one. The lady was a ballbuster. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to tick her off, but from the onset, she’d been cool and sarcastic. He hadn’t been able to warm her up.
Teasing her had seemed fun, for him anyway. Yet she hadn’t cracked a smile. Not even a twitch of her lips.