Wilderness Passion. Lindsay McKenna
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and studying her with catlike intensity would make anyone feel slightly nervous.
He released her fingers—almost reluctantly, she thought. “I didn’t realize you would be a woman,” he said, his tone hard and without compromise. “E. Stapleton. That’s how the damn letter was signed.” Dan controlled his sense of frustration. How was he supposed to harvest a forest with a woman who looked more like a lovely child than someone who knew the timber industry? Despite the coolness of his manner, something wrenched at his heart when he looked into her clear, almost unlined face. Reason dictated that she was older than she looked, and he smiled to himself. She was all business, but he sensed that she was nervous. One part of him felt badly about being hard on her. But another part of him, the forestry manager, was concerned only with efficiency. Up in those mountains, the only thing that mattered was action—quick, decisive action. And now he was saddled with a woman who had probably never stepped out of her office. Damn.
Libby girded herself against his attack. How many times had she heard that for openers? “Please, sit down,” she entreated, her brown eyes narrowing slightly in self-defense. “I’m sure you’re tired from the trip.”
Dan Wagner remained standing, one hand resting loosely on his hip. There was absolutely nothing conciliatory about him. He wore a set of tightly fitting blue jeans, which emphasized his long, muscular thighs, and a western plaid shirt with a corduroy blazer thrown over it, as if to appease society to a certain degree.
Libby was amazed at the breadth of his chest and the strength that was so evident in his proudly thrown-back shoulders. He looked like he could carry the weight of the world on them and never tire. He gave her a thin smile, his eyes glittering. “You’re right about the trip, but I’m tired of sitting. And if I have my way about this meeting, I won’t be here long enough to get the urge to sit down.”
Leaning back in her black leather chair, she pointed toward the forms and files just given to her by Doug Adams. “This is going to take at least two hours,” she warned, her voice hardening slightly to emphasize the point. “We have to discuss a myriad details on collecting data for the environmental-impact statement on State Land Lease Number 4293.” She forced herself to smile. “So why don’t you relax for a moment while I ask my secretary to get the maps we’ll need?”
Libby gladly escaped the tense atmosphere of her office. The man was seething with barely restrained anger, and it was all focused on her. What had she done? It was Friday afternoon and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Peeking around the corner, she called, “Betty, get me those maps of the Sleeping Deer Mountain area, will you?”
He was pacing restlessly around her office when she returned, and her heart hammered as he lifted his chin, fixing her again with his impenetrable stare. “Was your flight late?” she inquired, thinking of the unkept appointment earlier that morning.
“No,” came the cool reply, “I just had other, more important tasks that required my attention first.” He shook his head. “I think this whole thing is a fiasco, Dr. Stapleton. Cascade Amalgamated has been given the rights to lease the land and harvest the timber. I’m too damn busy to come here and chitchat and then to babysit you or one of your city-bred assistants on a three-week interior study up on Sleeping Deer Mountain.”
Libby wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her white coat. Dan Wagner presented a combination of impatience and masculinity that sent her senses reeling with unexplained pleasure. He was quietly handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy fashion, something she had seen very rarely in the Bay area, where she’d lived all her life. She was used to men in Savile Row suits and silk ties who spoke with cultured brevity and diplomacy. It was obvious that none of that could be expected from the forestry manager. He was a man more comfortable with an ax in his hand than trading glib comments.
“Mr. Wagner, I’m afraid neither of us has any say on these impact studies. Officially we are teammates on the Deer Mountain project until its completion.”
He shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Look, Doctor, under any other circumstance I wouldn’t mind meeting you.” That was true. Rarely had he seen someone of such incredible beauty. Dan wondered how she could have majored in biology when she should have been a model for all the international fashion magazines. She certainly didn’t belong in that office. And certainly not in his world.
Savagely Dan reminded himself that he was a simple country boy who had barely graduated from high school and then earned his forestry management through harsh experience. It was evident that Dr. Elizabeth Stapleton was not only beautiful but also intelligent. And that combination made him feel mildly threatened. “You can take that doctorate in biology, the EPA and those damn impact-study demands and shove them. I don’t need my logging operation held up for a whole damn year because you have to count bugs, animals and plants and try to tell me how to do a job I’ve done for the last fifteen years.”
Libby colored fiercely, her flawless Swedish complexion turning ruddy over his irate words. Clenching her fists at her sides, she tried to temper her retort. “Mr. Wagner, I don’t care what you think about the study, but I do care when you insult me. I won’t stand here and argue with you.” She lifted her chin, her brown eyes dark with fury. “I have an idea,” she whispered tautly. “It’s been a long week for both of us, I’m sure. Why don’t you come back here Monday morning after a good rest and we’ll discuss this problem reasonably.”
Dan Wagner tilted his head, as if viewing her in a new light. His turbulent blue eyes lost their initial darkness and one corner of his mouth pulled upward. “So, you’ve got some backbone after all.”
Libby compressed her lips. “Shall we get off the personal level, Mr. Wagner?” she demanded.
He smiled, but the warmth did not reach his eyes. “That’s hard to do, Doctor, you’re a good-looking woman. Biologist or not.”
Her heart thudded at his backhanded compliment. At twenty-nine she was used to men complimenting her on her natural Scandinavian beauty. But for some reason Dan Wagner’s sincerity shook her off center, and she lost some of her composure, blushing. Irritated, she turned, facing the window and crossing her arms against her chest. “I’ll see you at 8:00 a.m. sharp Monday morning, Mr. Wagner.”
A few seconds passed and there was no answer. Libby unfolded her arms, making a half turn toward him, confused by his sudden silence. Damn, he was irritating!
Wagner walked over to her desk, glancing at the other documents idly. He picked up one thick blue book, frowning. “Looks like they keep you pretty busy here,” he commented.
“Too busy,” she agreed evenly. “And to be honest, Mr. Wagner, I didn’t want your project. I have enough to do.”
He laid the book back down, his callused, work-worn hand resting against it. “Good. Then we both agree that this doesn’t have to be done. Which means I don’t have to stay and I don’t have to come back here Monday morning.”
Betty knocked timidly on the office door and entered when Libby called to her. Taking the maps, Libby cleared a space on her desk for the two rolls. “Mr. Wagner, you either talk to me now or later. This impact study has to be done.” And then she met his glare fearlessly. “Or do you want to go before the board of inquiry and tell them why we didn’t do the study as the state regulations require? I’m afraid we can no longer log these leases as we’ve done in the past. And what would you say to the president of our company when the state of Idaho leveled a couple of million dollars’ worth of fines at us for not following guideline procedures? Not to mention the fact that they would surely sue Cascade Amalgamated without a blink of their eye. I guarantee it. That is the very least you can count on, Mr. Wagner.”
Dan’s mouth thinned in displeasure as he continued to hold her gaze. “You know your stuff, don’t you, Doctor?” he ground out. “I could sidestep you and give my men the order to start logging, but then, when the state caught us, you’d sit at my trial, smiling like—”
Libby shook her head. “I would be there defending you! I’m a company biologist and you are under my jurisdiction. The state would hold the president