ICE
STEPHANIE ROWE
LEISURE BOOKS NEWYORK CITY
Stalked
“Cort!”
He jerked his head up at the tension in her voice. “Kaylie!” He grabbed the rifle and charged across the cabin, his senses on hyperalert. He sprinted into Sara’s room with the rifle up, skidded to a halt just inside the door, and scanned the room.
No bad guys.
Just Kaylie kneeling on the floor in the corner, looking at something.
She’s okay. Cort’s body shuddered as a tremor of relief went through him. “Anyone else in here?”
“No. Look.”
It took him almost a full minute to peel his finger off the trigger and lower the rifle. “You find something?”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared, her face pale.
He swore under his breath, his fingers tightening on the gun as he strode across the room toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“This.” She gestured at the mess of mutilated photos on the floor in front of her. “He’s hunting me.”
For my mom, who is my best friend, my greatest support and my anchor. Thank you for everything you have done for me, and continue to do every day. I love you!
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Stalked
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Acknowledgments
Praise
Other Books By Stephanie Rowe
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
The minute the airplane wheels bumped down, Kaylie Fletcher took one look out the airplane window at the snowy Alaskan mountains, and her stomach roiled. She couldn’t see the beauty, the majestic dominance of the scenic peaks, millions of acres to be treasured and discovered….
All she saw was death.
Kaylie could still smell the tangy scent of blood. The cold thickness of a human body as the flesh turned to ice beneath her hands. The pressure of the harness tight around her shoulders as she hauled the body down the slope. Tears freezing on her cracked cheeks. Her heart numb with disbelief. Her mind reeling with anger and fury and pain. Stumbling with her broken ankle and frozen feet, alone except for a corpse…
Kaylie cringed as the anguished cry blistered through her memory, a noise so horrific, so torturous, it could be nothing but the sound of a human screaming for his life in the shadow of death’s brutality—
Stop it! Just stop it!
Kaylie yanked her gaze off the mountains and forced herself to stare at the vanilla-colored plastic tray in the seat back in front of her. She willed herself to concentrate on the scratches on the corner. To study the faded plaid of the seat cover.
Slowly the memories faded, and the freshness of the horror receded back to where she’d kept it for so long. Kaylie groaned softly and pressed her palms to her eyes. Her hands were clammy and trembling.
She should have realized the memories might resurface. She should have been prepared.
A hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Kaylie managed a tight smile at the older woman sitting next to her. Her seatmate was a weathered gal with silver hair, sun-beaten skin, and callused hands. The wrinkles around the woman’s eyes made it look as if she were always about to laugh. Within minutes of takeoff, she had started chatting and hadn’t let up for the entire plane ride. Normally one for taking naps on planes, Kaylie had been grateful for the distraction this time.
She’d barely slept in days. Left alone, the plane ride would have been three hours of self-torture like the flashback she’d just had. She would be forever thankful that her seatmate had thirteen grandchildren she liked talking about.
“You’re fine?” The woman gave a decidedly unladylike snort. “You don’t look fine. You look like you just stepped in a bear trap.”
Kaylie almost smiled at the analogy. Almost. “No bear traps. Just motion sickness.” She wiped her damp hands on the freshly ironed slacks she’d worn in an attempt to lie to herself about where she was going. Sweat trickled down between her breasts.
“Hah.” The feisty grandma picked up the faded nylon backpack she’d been using for her carry-on. “Motion sickness, my ass.”
Kaylie laughed, desperate to latch onto anything that might distract her from her thoughts. “Just memories. Nothing to worry about.”
Silver brows were raised at Kaylie. “Memories, eh? I’ve a fair share of memories myself, and none of them ever made me look the way you just did. You want to talk about it?”
Kaylie managed a smile. “Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” And she would be…as soon as she was on a plane returning to Seattle.
The woman gave Kaylie a skeptical look as the lone flight attendant hopped up and jimmied open the door, letting the glaring Alaskan sunshine into the plane. Kaylie instinctively dug her sunglasses out of her purse and slapped them on her face.
“You take care, then, hon.” The woman stood and strode out of the plane without giving Kaylie a backward look, no doubt already getting excited about seeing her family.
The thought of family made Kaylie’s throat tighten, and the departure of her affable flying companion was like being stripped of her last vestiges of protection. She felt raw and exposed to the hell that awaited outside the plane. “Oh, God.” Kaylie dropped her head to her palms. “You can handle this,” she whispered to herself. “No one else is going to die here.”
No one else is going to die here.
Repeating the mantra in her head, Kaylie balled her hands and gazed defiantly out the door at the blue sky. She inhaled the untainted air, letting its cold purity burn her lungs—untouched nature that one could find only in remote places like northern Alaska.
Kaylie much preferred civilization. Give her the hum of cars whizzing by in the morning commute, the dry heat rising off a hot pavement in the summer, or the soft drizzle of a Seattle spring. She liked the freedom afforded by civilization: taxicabs, cell-phone reception, and a warm bedroom to snuggle in at a night. She loved stretching out on her beautiful suede sofa with a glass of wine and a soft throw blanket, basking in the nighttime view of the sparkling lights of the city, a delicious vista that was a perk of her luxurious highrise apartment building. Not this…this…frigid expanse of openness. The alluring temptation was only a beautiful facade for the darkness that lay deep in the shadows of this territory.
Kaylie grabbed her dove gray suede handbag. The choice of purse had been a refusal to acknowledge her destination this morning. So were her turquoise pumps with the jeweled toes. The expensive silk heels couldn’t be worn in rain or slush or cold weather. They were designed for indoor wear in a life of leisure. It was the type of shoe Kaylie had started wearing twenty-three days after her sixteenth birthday.
Having stalled as long as she could, Kaylie draped her pocketbook over her shoulder and made her w
ay to the door of the plane. There was no Jetway. Just a set of steps nudged up against the door.
More of a ladder, really.
Kaylie caught the railing, pressing her lips together as she surveyed the small airport. A tiny Cessna 180 was idling nearby, its red paint mostly scraped off. She shuddered and wrenched her eyes away, searching for Sara. Somehow, her deep friendship with Sara Jenks had survived that hellacious sixteenth year. Their bond had even endured Sara’s move to Alaska six years ago, a land they both knew Kaylie would never set foot in again.
Until now.
Two weeks ago, Kaylie’s parents and brother had perished in a climbing accident on Mount McKinley. The entire climbing party had fallen three hundred feet into a crevasse, and the bodies had not been recovered. It had taken ten days for the news to reach Kaylie, as no one had known to notify her.
Kaylie had raged, cried, grieved, and fought to keep herself from sliding over that cliff to such a dark place she’d never get out.
Then Kaylie had received the phone call at three o’clock yesterday morning. One sentence was all the caller had spoken. One sentence that had haunted Kaylie until she and Sara had decided she had no choice but to find out the truth.
Your mother is still alive.
With no bodies found, it was possible her mother had survived the fall. And what about Kaylie’s dad and brother, who had also been on the climb? Kaylie owed it to her family and herself to pursue the cryptic message. If she didn’t see it through, that phone call would haunt her forever.
So Kaylie had made her plane reservation and headed to the land she’d tried so hard to forget.
Sara had promised to meet Kaylie and help her through it.
But as Kaylie scanned the airport again, Sara was nowhere to be seen.
No one was, really. It was late afternoon, the sun was setting, and everyone had better things to do.
Kaylie clenched the delicate strap of her bag as she began to descend the stairs, using her free hand to fish her mobile phone out of her backpack. She was two-thirds of the way down the steps and had just hit the power button on her phone when a man ducked under the nose of the Cessna. His faded jeans hugged his narrow hips. The denim encased long, muscular legs, all the way down to a pair of insulated work boots. His wide shoulders were accentuated by the thick black flight jacket that would be a lifesaver if he went down in cold weather. His collar was up, dark glasses covered his face, and his light brown hair was blowing in the flirty wind. He focused on Kaylie and his jaw hardened ever so slightly.
And Kaylie knew in that instant, with absolute certainty, that if she were going to die in Alaska, that man would be the cause.
CHAPTER TWO
Cort McClaine knew the minute he saw her that she was the one, despite what he’d been prepped for.
He’d been told to expect a woman in her midtwenties, with dark hair, brown eyes, and a lean build. A woman who would be ready for a trip to the backwoods of Alaska.
This woman…Yeah, her hair might pass as dark to the uninitiated, but it reminded him of the soft underbelly of a black-bear cub, catching the rays of light from the first spring sunshine.
Her eyes were hidden behind her fancy sunglasses, but she was clearly looking at Cort. Her body language was all about disapproval and resistance. Of course it was. With her wrinkle-free slacks and those delicate shoes that made her feet look…
Cort studied her feet as she resumed her exit from the plane. He hadn’t seen feet like hers in a long time. They were…dainty. Nah, not dainty. Sexy. Yeah, that was it. The way he could see the curve of the top of her foot where the hem of her pants brushed over her skin…Ankles that looked too damn delicate to survive a walk across the tarmac, let alone a summer in the backwoods.
It was no surprise she was looking at him as if he were her worst nightmare.
She was his, too. A client who was in no way prepared for what he was about to deal her.
Cort dragged his gaze off her feet, scowling. For eight years, he’d stayed far away from women from the Lower 48, but damn if he couldn’t keep his lower body from reacting to the sight of this female. Her pale blue sweater dipped between her breasts. Breasts he could see quite clearly, since she wasn’t wearing a thick jacket and a few layers of long underwear. And her throat…Sexy, like her feet. Long, elegant…Yeah, elegant would apply to her neck.
He sensed her tension heighten, and he returned his attention to her face, confident she had no idea where he was looking with his dark glasses on. The tendons in her neck were taut. Her full lips were pressed in a tight line, and her left hand was clenched in a small fist around the strap of her ridiculously fancy purse.
Cort grimaced. It would be a long flight if she kept up with the attitude. But she was his job, and he’d bring her down safely, if not happy.
She turned her head away, dismissing him. The too-familiar reaction rankled him. On second thought, Cort didn’t give a damn if she landed happy. He knew what she was about. His ex-wife had looked at him in exactly the same way, and he wasn’t going down that road again.
If Sara hadn’t begged him for this favor and if she hadn’t been married to Cort’s best friend, Jackson, Cort would haul ass right out of there without ever speaking a word to a woman like Kaylie Fletcher.
But Cort liked Sara, despite the fact she was from the Lower 48, and he’d never turn down a favor for Jackson. Besides, Sara had adapted just fine to Alaska and was as loyal as hell to Jackson, so Cort had to think that Sara’s best friend wasn’t all righteous attitude, pale blue cotton, and impracticality. He slapped on his best “client” smile and stepped forward. “Kaylie Fletcher? I’m your pilot. Cort McClaine. Welcome to Alaska.”
Cort McClaine’s grin was charming. Engaging. Disarming.
Kaylie knew the minute he flashed it at her that he was very, very good at his job, at least from the perspective of keeping his clients happy when the turbulence was terrifying and the ground was far closer than it should be. His smile plowed right past her defenses, reached down inside her, and made her want to smile back. Her instinct to fear him was overruled by the unexpected chills that shivered down her spine. She knew his smile wasn’t personal, but it had been so long since anything had made her feel so warm and tingly. Kaylie had a sudden urge to snuggle against Cort and beg him to chase away that aching loneliness stalking her at every turn, because she knew he could do it….
“Ma’am?” Cort pulled his glasses down to look at her, and her breath caught at the intensity of his eyes. Sandy brown, like his wind-blown hair, they were brimming with the energy and fire of someone who craved adventure and risk.
His eyes brought back memories.
His eyes brought back nightmares.
They made her yearn to lose herself in the passion burning so brightly in their depths.
Cort’s eyes terrified her.
Kaylie took a step back and folded her arms over her chest. “I thought I was meeting Sara. Or Dusty Baker. She was going to hire him to be our guide. Do you work with him?”
His smile didn’t even falter as he slid his sunglasses back on, granting her a reprieve. “Sorry, ma’am, but Sara was unable to make it, and I don’t know anything about Dusty being here. She arranged for me to meet you and take you out to her cabin.”
Kaylie glanced at the Cessna. “In that?”
His smile hardened ever so slightly. “Safest plane around, I assure you. Do you have bags? I don’t like the way the weather’s shifting, and we need to move out now.”
Kaylie stared at the small plane and then at the darkening sky. The sky looked dangerous, yet Cort was willing to take off in it…. A sense of foreboding took root inside Kaylie as
she became aware of his casual pose, the utter confidence in his voice, and the heated masculinity emanating from him.
He was a daredevil, an arrogant male who thrived on a lifestyle that teased death as often as possible, always supremely confident that he’d come out the victor. He was handsome and compelling…. O
h, God.
She was attracted to him.
And he was just like her family—who were all dead.
He cocked his head. “You all right, ma’am?”
Kaylie clenched the strap of her handbag tighter. She had to leave. Get away. Couldn’t handle it. “I—”
“Got any bags?” He was already in motion when he asked the question.
Kaylie’s protest died as Cort jogged across the tarmac to the plane she’d arrived in, where a man in a navy jacket was off-loading luggage into a truck. Cort swung up onto the vehicle with the agile grace of a true athlete. He did a quick scan of the bags already unloaded, exchanged a brief word with the handler, then disappeared into the belly of the plane.
Kaylie shoved her hands into her pockets, her skin hot and tingly. She was on the edge of panic, but there was also a sense of anticipation vibrating deep inside her. Kaylie had dated plenty and had been almost engaged twice, but never had she felt such an instantaneous and compelling attraction. She wanted to feel Cort’s hands on her hips, his tongue gliding along her ribs….
Kaylie cleared her throat and wiped her hand over her brow.
There was no way she was going down that road. No way.
Her phone beeped as it finally caught service, indicating that she had a message. Kaylie ignored it, not wanting to deal with any work calls right now. Instead she dialed Sara, and the phone went directly into voice mail. “It’s Kaylie. I’m here. Cort found me, so we’ll be on our way. I wish—” Her voice broke, and she had to take a second to steel herself. “I wish you’d been able to meet me.” She shut her phone resolutely, the nerves easing now that she’d heard Sara’s voice, even though it was only on the recording.
All Kaylie had to do was deal with Cort long enough to get to Sara’s cabin. Then she could fall apart in her friend’s arms, if she needed to. Sara would understand.
Kaylie was back in control by the time Cort popped out of the plane a few minutes later. He’d found all three of her bags: two were slung over his shoulder, and he gripped the handles of the smaller one in his hand. His callused fingers looked so incongruous against the gray suede and the leather handles. He raised the satchel. “This everything?”
Ice Page 1