Wilderness Passion. Lindsay McKenna

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Wilderness Passion - Lindsay McKenna


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heart sank, her head snapping up, meeting those glacier-blue eyes once again. Why was he continuing to snipe at her as if she were his enemy? She had an option: meet him head-on in a clash of words or call a truce. The truce was infinitely more appealing.

      “All right, Mr. Wagner, since you insist upon being frank and to the point, I’m going to be also.” She walked to within a foot of where he stood out in the dimly lit hall. His face was shadowed. A sense of danger coupled with excitement washed over Libby. “I’m very tired tonight. And although your observations are well intended, I’m just not up to coping with your brutal assessments.”

      Dan studied her in the half light, his eyes glittering with newfound interest. “Honesty,” he murmured. “That’s a rarity at the corporate-management level.” He tilted his head. “Tell me, Doctor, how do you manage the politics around here if you’re this honest all the time?”

      Libby heard the genuine surprise in his voice, and she saw it reflected in his eyes for just a second. Either Wagner was paranoid or he had gotten shafted and shuffled around too many times by corporate people. He was a blunt man, but not as cruel as she had first thought. It was his way of getting to the heart of a problem. “I don’t play politics very well, Mr. Wagner.”

      “That’s obvious.”

      Libby met and matched his stare. She had to suppress a growing smile. “Thank you for the compliment. Now, do we have a deal? Will you keep your observations for another time when I’m better prepared to handle them in a positive way?”

      Dan smiled. He slid his large, callused hand beneath her elbow, guiding her down the hall. “It’s a deal, Doctor.”

      Dan had to remind himself to stop staring at her. Beneath the overhead fixtures of the stylish coffee shop, her golden hair blazed in a halo of light. The skin was drawn tightly across her cheekbones, showing her fatigue. Again he felt a prick of guilt over his abruptness with her. But dammit, Cascade Amalgamated had put him in an impossible position. His anger was aimed at her because she would be the millstone that he would have to wear during that journey into the interior. Still... Dan savagely quelled feelings that had been aroused simply by her quiet presence. He wrestled with those emotions, not having felt them in almost fifteen years. Grimly tightening his lips, he forced himself to tear his gaze from her and study the menu.

      After ordering their meals, Dan rested his elbows on the table, meeting her gaze. “You ever been out in the forest?”

      Libby shook her head. “If you call Golden Gate Park a forest, then I can qualify. Otherwise I’m afraid not.”

      He liked her sense of humor. It became her. What the hell was he doing keeping a list of what he did and did not like about her? Frustrated with himself, Dan continued to assess just how much of a problem she was going to be to him out in the forest.

      “You’re a biologist. I thought all of your kind hung out in the lonely, isolated edges of civilization.”

      “I’m a city biologist. All of my environmental-impact studies have been on suburban and city sites.” Libby knew she should have kept that information to herself because his face tightened.

      “The bug men I know prefer isolation to the city,” he growled.

      She smiled at his reference to biologists as “bug men.” It was true: many biologists spent untold hours out in the wilderness, setting up highly detailed studies to seek out nature’s balance in a given area. “City-born and city-bred, I’m afraid, Mr. Wagner.”

      He gave a doleful shake of his head. “Then it makes you even more of a liability on this trip than I first thought. How in the hell do you expect to know what to look for out in the forest if you have no previous experience in that field, Doctor?”

      Libby put a tight rein on her temper. “That’s a fair question,” she said. She rested her chin on folded hands in front of her, holding his burning blue gaze. “I’m coming in to set up the management guidelines for the environmental-impact project. My job isn’t actually to go out and do the studies; we’ll get bids from firms who hire themselves out for that purpose. So, you see, my lack of experience isn’t really a consideration in this case.”

      She was smart, Dan grudgingly decided. And she was unlike any woman he had ever met. “If you think on your feet this well, there may be some hope for you after all.”

      Libby smiled tiredly. “What are some of the items you wanted to discuss with me?” The waitress brought their orders, and between bites Libby made a list of what she needed. Later, over coffee, she pondered her growing list

      “So, what is the most important item here?”

      “Boots,” Dan answered emphatically. “Matter of fact, when you finish your coffee, I’m going to measure your feet. I’ll get you the boots. I can’t risk a tenderfoot buying the wrong pair and ending up with blisters the first day of hiking.”

      She raised one eyebrow in question. “Measure my feet?”

      He barely nodded his head. “Yes. I have a tape measure up in my room. In Challis there’s a good boot store. I’ll take the information back and then send you a pair.”

      Libby hid a smile. Despite his gruffness, he seemed to be concerned—even if it was in his own defense. “I never realized that a boot could be that important.”

      “When you’re carrying thirty to fifty pounds of gear on your back, Doctor, those boots had better feel just right to you. Otherwise you’re either going to blister or bruise your feet.” He pulled out some money to pay for the meal and then rose. “And like I said before, I’m not going to carry you into or out of the interior.”

      Libby rose, her heartbeat quickening. She wanted to say, “Just being around you is an adventure.” It struck her as amusing that he was inviting her up to his room just to get fitted for a pair of hiking boots. She felt his hand on her elbow, gently guiding her out of the restaurant and into the plush lobby toward the bank of elevators. His body brushed against hers and she experienced a thrill of pleasure.

      The hotel room was lit by one small lamp on a coffee table. Dan reached over, flipping on the main switch.

      “Have a seat, Doctor. I’ll be back in a moment.”

      Libby sat down on the small couch, her purse resting in her lap. She watched with interest as he brought an oversize notebook, a pencil and a small cloth tape measure. As he knelt at her feet he met her interested gaze.

      “First things first.” He reached over on the dresser and picked up two large pairs of gray socks. “Put these on,” he ordered.

      Libby leaned over, gently removing her high heels. Heat flowed from her neck up into her face as Wagner came within inches of her. She tried to disregard the hungry look that glittered in the depths of his eyes as he watched her struggle with the heavy socks.

      “Why socks?” she protested.

      “You always wear two pairs with any boot to protect your skin,” he answered patiently. She had damn nice legs, he decided. But then, he had known that from the moment he had met her. There was something childlike in her struggles with the socks that brought a wry smile to his face.

      Libby sat back. “There,” she sighed. Her laughter was infectious as she looked down at them. “I must say, this doesn’t look like the height of fashion.”

      Dan found himself returning her laughter. How could this woman who exhibited the elegance of San Francisco society suddenly lapse into self-deprecating humor? He liked people who could poke fun at themselves. He placed the notebook beneath her right foot, carefully drawing the outline of it.

      “You like to laugh, don’t you?”

      Libby gave him a startled look. “Why, yes. Doesn’t everyone?’’

      “No.” He raised his head, drinking in her puzzled features. “Especially very beautiful, well-bred women who were raised with all the finer things of life.”

      Her


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