Wilderness Passion. Lindsay McKenna

D.W.

      

      A part of her felt rebuffed and hurt; another part of her laughed. Well, there was one thing that could be said about him: he was consistent. Infinitely practical, attentive to detail and as caustic as acid, Dan Wagner was certainly going to earn a corner of her memory. He reminded her of a rogue stallion that was used to having his way about everything. And then he had to run into her, a woman. It seemed obvious that he was used to dealing with women on only one level: the bed. He didn’t enjoy dealing with her in his business world. She gently laid the note back on top of the boots, smiling to herself. “Well, Dan, for better or worse, you’re going to be saddled with me,” she murmured. A glint of mirth danced in her brown eyes. “Serves you right.”

      Doug Adams rested his thin leg casually over the corner of Libby’s desk, an amused smile on his long face. “Well, you about ready to graduate to the forestry level?” he asked her.

      Libby pursed her lips and mentally went over the last-minute chores she had to attend to before she caught her plane at San Francisco International. “I hope so, Doug. I can’t quite envision myself being in the woods for that long.” Worriedly she lifted her gaze to meet his green eyes. “I feel terrible about leaving the office. Are you sure that Cherie can handle the necessary follow-up on my other four cases for that long? I mean, she’s only just recently been made assistant. Isn’t that quite a bit of pressure to put on someone?”

      Doug shook his head. “Do you ever stop worrying? Relax, Libby. Frankly, if I were you, I’d be more anxious about having to work with Wagner.” He watched her for a moment “Have you heard from him?”

      A grin touched her lips. “We’ve been trading cryptic notes for the past three weeks in preparation for this outing. Mr. Wagner doesn’t believe in company biologists, impact studies or the EPA.” She gave a laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “So you see, it will be a piece of cake.”

      Doug got up. “Don’t let him buffalo you, Libby. Just stand your ground with the man. He’s a hell of a manager and probably one of the best forestry experts in the Northern Hemisphere. But make him meet you on your turf.’’

      Her brown eyes sparkled. “That’s like getting a wild stallion to stand still while you saddle him. I’m sure I’ll take my share of lumps from him, Doug. If I come back black and blue, just put a sympathy card on the desk for me.’’

      2

      HER EXCITEMENT SPIRALED upward as the small Cessna Skyhawk circled the narrow airstrip on the outskirts of Challis. Libby felt adrenaline making her heart beat faster. The long flight from Boise to Challis had been beautiful; the mountains were clothed in dark green capes of pine and evergreen. The various shades of green were breathtaking at five thousand feet as the plane slid around the higher peaks of the Salmon River mountain range. More than once her mind had turned toward the coming meeting with Dan Wagner. Would he be just as caustic as he had been in San Francisco? She grinned carelessly, almost anxious to do battle with him once again. After the four short notes they had exchanged with each other over business matters, Libby thought she detected a dry sense of humor in the man. She looked forward to observing him again.

      The noon sunlight was blinding as she stepped from the Cessna onto the worn Tarmac surface of the landing apron. The wind was fresh, coming from a westerly direction, ruffling her hair, which had been tamed into a ponytail. Libby tried not to appear too anxious and helped the copilot dislodge her assorted suitcases from the luggage compartment

      She was about to lift the heaviest piece when an arm covered with dark hair appeared from the left. “Here,” came a growl that could only belong to Dan Wagner, “let me get that for you.” His callused fingers wrapped strongly about the handle, and Libby moved aside, startled.

      She took a step back and was struck by the boyish look about him. His hair, tousled by the wind, glinted with gold and red highlights. The shirt he wore was blue-and-white checked, the neck open, displaying the dark hair at his throat. The sleeves were rolled high and she saw the flexing of his hardened muscles. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, and his maleness was intoxicating to her suddenly confused senses. He cocked his head, studying her in the intervening silence.

      “What’s this? The good doctor speechless? Don’t tell me the crisp mountain air has got your tongue? Or do you stare like that all the time?” A slight grin curled one corner of his mouth as he stood, enjoying her presence. He wanted to tell her that without the silly-looking white smock she wore at the office, she looked beautiful. He had been right: she did have a strong, athletic body, yet without a heavy bone structure. Her breasts were nicely shaped and in balance with her slender figure and tiny waist.

      Libby took a swallow, having the good grace to blush over her poor manners. He was incredibly handsome. He had seemed out of place in the office and equally uncomfortable in city clothes. But now, standing against the backdrop of the wilderness and the mountains, he looked like the lord of it all. She managed a weak smile, avoiding his amused stare.

      “Actually, I think it’s the altitude,” she lied. “I was just thinking how much a part of the environment you looked.”

      He picked up her other bag. “I suppose I can construe that as a compliment or an insult,” he drawled.

      Libby slid the strap of her third bag over her shoulder, trying to match his stride as he headed toward a battered, dust-covered Jeep in the parking lot. “It was a compliment,” she said, breathlessly coming to a halt at the vehicle.

      Dan glanced at her darkly, shoving the luggage into the back. “Hop in and hold on. You’re in for a bruising ride.”

      Libby curbed her initial disappointment. No, he hadn’t changed an iota. But in his notes to her, there had been a slight yielding, a hint that they might find some neutral territory between them.

      “Strap in,” he advised.

      “Why?” she challenged.

      Dan’s glance slid to her as he backed out of the lot, heading the noisy Jeep in a northerly direction. “Your ignorance is already showing, Doctor.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t like being called stupid, Mr. Wagner, not by you or anyone.”

      “I didn’t say you were stupid. I said your ignorance was showing. There’s a big difference,” he corrected. “It’s nice to see that PhDs don’t know everything.”

      She clenched her teeth, fighting down the fury that threatened to overcome her judgment. Good Lord, they were already fighting and she hadn’t been there for more than fifteen minutes! Calming herself, Libby murmured, “You’re right, there is. Since you seem so enlightened about seat belt policy in Idaho, why don’t you tell me?”

      He pointed toward the approaching range of mountains towering to the left of them. Libby could see a single thin ribbon of dusty road winding here and there up into the high reaches of timber until it ultimately disappeared around the other side of the ridge. “See that?” he demanded.

      “The road? Yes.”

      “That’s where we have to go. It’s rutted, potholed and incredibly dangerous because the timber trucks have used it too long and it’s never been repaired. More than one truck or Jeep has been flipped over.” He looked at her squarely for a moment

      Libby stared at him. “D-does it happen often?”

      He offered her a cutting smile. “Best business for the local undertaker is loggers on choke chains who didn’t watch their step, and stupid tourists who race up these timber roads. Enough said?’’

      “Enough said,” she agreed mutely, effectively silenced.

      Libby pressed herself into the seat, one hand wrapped tightly around the reinforcement bar on the side of the door and the other hand on the dash. She had expected him to drive up that tortuous road like a wild backwoods maniac, but he didn’t. He negotiated the deep ruts with an ease she openly admired. At times