[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer by Serenity Woods Page B

reasons why he might not find her attractive.
    He thought about the V of her blouse, and
the pale skin that had tempted his gaze to search out what he was certain would
be a lacy bra beneath her top. Closing his eyes, he groaned. This whole mission
had disaster written all over it.
    But that was just it—disaster wasn’t just a
broken heart or hurt feelings. In his line of work, disaster meant injury or
even death. Darren Kirk was a menace in the shadows, a man out for vengeance,
who didn’t care if innocents got hurt along the way. He was a real threat, and
Gene had to stay sharp. He couldn’t afford to think with his dick for the next
few weeks.
    Seducing Summer was definitely off the
cards.
     

Chapter Six
    “Coffee, ma’am?”
    Callie smiled at the flight attendant.
“Yes, please. With milk and sugar, thanks.”
    She glanced at Gene, sitting in the seat
next to her, daring him with her eyes to say something about how pernickety she
was with her coffee, but although he raised his eyebrows at her, he didn’t say
anything.
    It was Monday morning, and they were on a
flight to Dunedin, at the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand, about to
start their tour of the country.
    Friday had been busy, filled with
finalizing their plans, as well as tying up any loose ends with the business
before she left. To be fair, Gene had been invaluable. As he’d promised, he was
efficient and organized, and he’d dealt with a couple of last-minute
emergencies calmly, a perfect PA.
    She still found him a little unnerving,
though. In some ways, he was easy to read, and his reaction to her Holmesian
deductions had told her she hadn’t been far from the mark. He seemed to respect
her business and her role in it. But on a more personal level, she wasn’t sure
what he thought of her. Occasionally, a look glimmered in his eyes like the
flash of a coin on a riverbed—quite what it was, she couldn’t be sure.
Admiration? Desire? And for a brief moment, she’d think maybe he liked her.
    But then his seriousness would wash it
away, and his eyes would appraise her coolly, the shutters coming down to
shelter him from her searching gaze. When he was like that, he had a way of
looking at her that made her think he found her foolish. He was only thirty-one—okay,
nearly thirty-two—and she was twenty-six, so hardly a kid, but sometimes she
felt the way Emma must have felt when Mr. Knightley scolded her for being rude
to Miss Bates.
    He was doing it now, because she’d accepted
the cup of coffee, lowered it onto her tray, and then promptly knocked it as
she opened the stick of sugar, spilling a quarter of the liquid.
    “Give me your serviette,” she said crossly.
    “Would you like a bib, too?”
    “Because you never make a mistake, Mr.
Perfect.”
    He chuckled and handed her his serviette,
and, adding it to her own, she mopped up the mess.
    “Don’t look at me like that.” She cleaned
the last few drips, conscious of his gaze on her.
    “Like what?”
    “Like I’m your brother’s toddler you’re
supposed to look after who’s embarrassing you in public. I’m a grown woman who
runs a business, thank you very much. I’m not hopeless.”
    “Hmm.”
    She decided to ignore that. “Well, now
we’re finally alone, you’ll have to tell me some more about yourself.”
    “Will I?”
    “Yes. We can’t go the whole trip without
talking.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    “Gene…”
    He sighed. “What do you want to know?”
    “Tell me about your family.”
    “Parents still alive, one brother.”
    She waited for more. When more obviously
wasn’t coming, she nudged him with her elbow. “Come on.”
    “What?”
    “Jeez. It’s like getting blood out of a
stone. Where do your parents live?”
    “In Wellington.”
    “Brother younger or older than you?”
    “Younger.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Freddie.”
    “As in Mercury?”
    “As in Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. Mum’s a
big fan of old Hollywood musicals.”
    At last,