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