Wilderness Passion

Dan drew her foot on the paper. “Now, whatever gave you that idea?” he drawled.

“Your whole attitude, Mr. Wagner. Taking sniping shots at me because I do try to stay fit even though I sit at a desk all day long isn’t necessary.”

“It was a backhanded compliment. Most of the women I know are country-born and—bred. They’re used to working. They have calluses on their hands.”

Libby had the sudden urge to hide her hands so that he couldn’t see her palms. She didn’t have one single callus. “And city women are weak, lazy and snobbish in your book?”

He raised his head, his blue eyes darkening. “That was my general assessment until just now. You obviously aren’t a weak woman, Doctor.”

“Weak? In what sense of the word?” Why was she interested in what he thought of her?

“There aren’t many women who care to stand up to me. Or men, for that matter.”

She smiled wryly. “I can see why. The kitchen gets pretty hot where you’re concerned.”

Dan shrugged. “You even have some old-fashioned logic. I’m impressed, Doctor.”

He finished measuring her left foot, his hand remaining around her ankle.

Libby pressed forward with her desire to know something of how Dan Wagner operated. She was acutely aware that her foot was resting on his thigh, his hand nonchalantly curled around her ankle. “So, you see me as a feminist?” she probed.

Reluctantly, Dan released her foot “I have no qualms with a woman doing any job—provided she can do it”

“Then strong women don’t get under your skin?”

A sliver of a smile touched his eyes as he watched her struggle out of the socks. “Contrary to popular opinion, Doctor, I like a woman who can stand on her own two feet.”

Libby handed him the socks, her fingers brushing his momentarily. She felt the room getting warm. Or was it her? There was a dangerous tension lingering between them, and she was feeling flustered, unable to think as quickly as she might ordinarily. “You said you feel that city women are weak, lazy and snobbish. I just wanted to know how many of those adjectives apply to me, Mr. Wagner.” She picked up her shoes, slipping them back on her nylon-clad feet.

“Well, if you’re lazy, it will show up soon enough. Being out on the trail isn’t for anyone who doesn’t have stamina.” He gave her a dark look. “And if you do manage to come through this experience in one piece, you’ll earn my respect.”

She rested both hands on her thighs, her eyes sparkling with challenge. “Obviously you don’t see me finishing.”

Wagner rose, standing over her. “Let’s just say I’ll suspend my judgment of you, Dr. Stapleton. You’ve already shown you have a backbone.”

He walked over to the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Libby picked up her purse. “You don’t have to.” She gave him a slight smile. “We strong women can take care of ourselves.”

Before she knew what had happened, she felt Dan Wagner’s fingers on her shoulder. In one deft, seemingly lazy move he had imprisoned her within his strong, work-hardened hands. She was wildly aware of his fingers caressing the fabric at her shoulders. Her heart soared, her breathing suddenly uneven at his masculine closeness. Her eyes lifted upward to meet his dark, appraising stare.

“You know,” he began softly, “you aren’t strong in some ways, Doctor. I’ll know by the time our hike is over just who and what you are and are not.’’ The disturbing quality of his voice sent a dangerous thrill through her. She felt trapped, excited and frightened, all at the same time. Her body wouldn’t react to her commands. She should move away...away from his dizzyingly male essence, which acted like an aphrodisiac to her awakening senses.

“Now,” he continued amiably, “I’m going to walk you to your car. No protests, Doctor.” He released her shoulder, his other hand on her elbow as he led her out the door.

Libby was at a loss for words. There was a commanding presence about Dan Wagner that simply defied description. She stole a look up at him once as they were walking down the street. In some ways he reminded her of a knight from the days of chivalry. In other ways he was a cougar on the prowl, and she felt as if she were his intended prey....

On Tuesday morning Libby found a priority-mail package on her desk when she came to the office. Puzzled, she slipped the white smock on over her Qiana dress of pale pink. Betty bobbed inside the door. “Dr. Stapleton! That box just arrived. I wonder what’s in it.” She smiled brightly and stood at Libby’s desk, waiting.

Libby returned the smile. There was no return address, simply her name scrawled almost illegibly across the brown paper in which the box was tightly wrapped. “I don’t know.” And then she laughed. “The postmark is from Challis, Idaho...”

“Oh, from that gorgeous Dan Wagner, maybe? Oh, hurry, open it! I can’t believe it—he sent you a gift. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Knowing that Betty was about to be sadly disillusioned, Libby tore the paper wrapping off the huge box. A neatly folded note rested on top of the tissue paper. Peeking under the paper, Libby saw a pair of highly unflattering hiking boots in the box.

Betty’s animated expression faded. “Boots?” she asked. “Is this his way of paying homage to you?” She giggled.

Returning the smile, Libby opened the note. “I doubt it. We got along like dogs and cats on Friday night,” she confided to her secretary. “And he made it very clear that he wasn’t going to coddle me during the time we’ll have to spend together. These boots are his way of making sure I don’t hold him back when we’re hiking.” A smile tugged at her lips as she met her secretary’s bewildered gaze. “Where I’m going in three weeks, I’ll be needing these.”

Betty sniffed at the gift. “What a shame. He was so dashing and masculine. I guess his sort doesn’t think to send a woman flowers....”

Finally alone, Libby sat down, unfolding the note. Her fingers tingled as she opened the crisp white paper. Suddenly, she was anxious to read his letter.

Dear Dr.Stapleton

These boots won’t do your beauty justice, but they are practical.Wear them each day when you go for your walk.Remember, be sure to put on a pair of heavy wool socks so that you don’t end up with blisters.

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.”