The Billionaire's Sexy Rival (Jameson Brothers 3)

"An interesting point," William noted. The elevator ground to a halt, and the doors folded open. "…but then again, it could also be that you simply aren't up to the challenge of leading your team through the exercises."

His words seemed to echo through the empty lobby. Neither of them moved. The doors held a moment longer, then closed over them again.

"Frankly, William, my team would kick your team's collective ass," she said. "If you think I'm afraid of a challenge, then I'm afraid you don't know the first thing about me."

"Oh, I think I know one or two things about you," he murmured. He canted his shoulder toward her, but kept his hands in his pockets. He didn't want to remind her just what he had learned about her up there in his office.

"I never expected you to resort to schoolyard tactics," she said. "This is the equivalent of calling me out for being a chicken."

"You can look at it as a double dog dare, if you prefer."

Poppy laughed. "All right, William. I'll take you up on your offer… even if I think there are better options out there."

"Not offer," he corrected mildly. "Challenge. I'll even make a bet with you: the first person to get their team through the ropes course gets to take the lead on the convention project."

Poppy turned and held her hand out to him. "You were right after all. You do know a thing or two about me. You know how to phrase a challenge in a way I can't resist. It's a deal."

The door opened on their handshake. William remained in the elevator, watching her take the long walk down the lobby and out the revolving glass door. She never looked back over her shoulder, but something in him knew that she knew that he was watching.

She wasn't the only one who had trouble resisting a challenge.

"Hang Ten" was not the most inspired of company names. Seeing it emblazoned on the envelope of his invitation had almost been enough cause to throw it in the garbage, but William was glad now that he hadn't completely discounted the offer.

The ropes course was gorgeous: the minds behind it had spared no expense. Every penny they had pinched when it came to testing their brand name had apparently been put to use erecting structures that rose forty, maybe even fifty feet off the ground. There was also a deep, man-made "canyon" further up the way that William had immediately taken note of while browsing the website. It was advertised enticingly as being "for experienced climbers only".

William was no stranger to heights: he enjoyed rock climbing, and made it to the gym near his office at least three times a week. He wanted a piece of that canyon.

But it wasn't the only thing he wanted a piece of.

He hadn't had a chance to speak to Poppy yet. Not that he should be seeking out his competition other than to intimidate, but William had been counting on some good old-fashioned trash talk—and more than a little bit of flirting—and he hadn't gotten anywhere near his quota yet.

He moved off from where his team was and approached Poppy. His eyes roamed her skin-tight climbing gear appreciatively. Her body looked so much more athletic, so much more sleek and streamlined, than he had expected. This might prove a challenge after all. She was currently directing a young man with black hair to tie the knots of everyone on the team. Wil

liam watched the boy struggle, raising an eyebrow of disbelief, but his attention was quickly diverted elsewhere.

"Good afternoon, William." Poppy didn't so much as glance up from her supervision. "Looks like my team got here first. How about we sweeten our team wager with an individual bet?" She beat him to the first word of greeting and launched them immediately ahead in the conversation. It impressed and amused him in equal turns. William glanced behind him, and saw that various members of his own team were standing close enough to hear the exchange. Poppy had to be aware of their audience.

"I was just about to propose something similar," he said. "What terms?"

"First one of us to reach the bottom of the canyon can blend members of both our teams for the convention tasks," Poppy said immediately. She turned away from her assistant and straightened. The front of her athletic top was unzipped far enough that William could see the top of her sports bra. By any account, it shouldn't have been as provocative as it was…but all he could think about in that moment was what her body had felt like beneath his own, trapped against his desk. He had replayed the memory of their kiss over and over and over again. He had started to imagine what would have happened had there not been an audience there in the room with them.

"Deal," he said. Poppy nodded and grinned at his agreement. She offered her hand, and William shook it. He let their clasped palms linger, and Poppy didn't disappoint; she held him just as hard. Their union was only interrupted when the instructor cleared his throat.

"So, you two want the advanced course first?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," they both said as one. Their eyes remained focused on each other.

"Okay. Right. Well, follow me, then…"

The instructor called for several golf carts to be brought around, and the teams were ferried out to the edge of the property. William pulled his harness on as he stepped to the canyon crevice and looked over. It was a long, sheer drop. The rappel would be difficult, especially for someone who had never attempted anything like this before. He glanced toward Poppy out of the corner of his eye, but if the woman was afraid of the task she had set for them both, she didn't show it. She spoke with the instructor as he helped her into her own harness. William watched the placement of the other man's hands carefully, and felt a surge of something he hadn't felt in a long time: jealousy. It was sharp and bitter and strangely invigorating. It was a call to action, a call to compete.

He approached them in a moment, letting his own hand fall to the small of her back as he steered her toward the ledge. Poppy didn't shake him off her, even though they were meant to be keeping up appearances for the sake of their teams. He withdrew the hand before his touch could translate as suspicious. He dangled himself over the cliff side, feet braced, hanging onto his tether with two clenched hands.

"Ready?" he called over to her.

"Ready." She positioned herself similarly beside him.

"Begin!" their instructor called.