An Exquisite Challenge Read Online Free PDF

abruptly. “It makes more sense for you to be there where you’ll have much more access to me.”
    And why did that sound like a very, very bad idea? The kiss from last night flashed through her head again. Her burying her hands in his shirt and begging for more. Him walking away. Sure, it would be more convenient for her to stay at the winery, given the event was going to be held there, but her and Gabe in the same house? Was that asking for trouble?
    “I can stay in one of the bed-and-breakfasts,” she suggested. “So I’m not underfoot.”
    “You’ll stay at the house.” He pointed to the conference table. “Shall I walk you through the brief?”
    She nodded. They moved to the table and Gabe took her through the brief he’d given the other agency. Five hundred people, an outdoor venue where weather could be a factor, VIP tours of the winery and a press junket to see the wine-making process. Oh, and no theme in existence.
    Totally doable in three weeks, right?
    She almost turned around and ran out the door. Except the desire to conquer was stronger. And maybe the urge to show Mr. Perfection she was a whole lot more than he thought she was.
    She might have been describing her entire life.

CHAPTER THREE
    H OW COULD SHE be freezing now?
    Uttering a string of purple prose that would have made a trucker proud, Alex got up from her PC before she did something crazy, like throw it across the room. She stalked to the window and looked out over the vineyard, lush and green on a hot summer day. The sunroom Gabe had given her to work in was a wonderful, quiet space, but right now it felt like a prison. She’d said she wouldn’t leave until she had a theme. But it wasn’t coming. At all.
    The only thing she’d been able to spew out thus far was a lame idea about how the rich boldness of De Campo’s new wine, The Devil’s Peak, was a feast for the senses.
    Ugh. Clichéd. Boring. Done. It could have been coffee for all its originality. Which she’d had more than enough of by now, by the way.
    She rubbed her fatigue-stung eyes. Of all the moments for her to have a total creative meltdown, this was not the one she would have chosen. She had forty-eight hours left to conjure up an event theme that would have De Campo on the lips of every wine lover on the East and West Coasts, but nothing was coming.
    She picked up her bottle of water and abandoned her office for outside. The De Campo homestead was done in an open-concept, New England–style design that blended in perfectly with the beautiful countryside. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows let in the gorgeous Napa light, bounded by a wraparound porch, terrace and pool area. Up the rolling hill in front of her sprawled the vineyard. Maybe some sunshine and a walk into the vines would inspire her. Impart some fantastic oh, my God idea into her brain.
    She walked up the hill and into the Cabernet vines, which stretched all the way up to the edge of the escarpment. A band of green topped by the pure blue Napa sky. Harvest, Gabe had told her, would be the end of summer or early fall, but the grapes on the vines already looked like perfect replicas of the most glorious still lifes. Smaller and more perfectly rounded than a supermarket grape, they were a vibrant, luscious purple. Inspirational, certainly.
    Channeling hard, she tried the word-association games they used to brainstorm at the agency. Nothing came. Nada. She was officially in a slump. A ninth-inning slump, at that. A building sense of panic tattooed itself through her veins. It was Saturday. The invitations had to go out by Tuesday, latest, if they were to get into people’s busy summer calendars. Which meant Gabe had to approve a theme and invites by Monday. She had confidence in her graphic designer’s ability to turn a concept and invitation around in twenty-four hours. He was brilliant. But she needed to give him something to work with.
    “A feast for the senses” was just not going to cut it.
    She plopped