Ice

by Stephanie Rowe

  Kaylie recoiled at the sight. The skin across his shoulders was twisted and shiny from a horrific burn. There was a long white scar across his lower back and around his side, as if he’d nearly been sliced in half a long time ago.

  It was the body of a man who lived dangerously. Who thumbed his nose at death and kept right on challenging it at every turn.

  Dear God, what had she done?

  Kaylie scrambled off the bed, grabbed her small duffel and raced into the bathroom. She shut the door and leaned against it, as if she could keep him out.

  She caught sight of herself in the same mirror that had undone her earlier. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled, whisker burn on her face. The appearance of a well-loved woman. She looked sensual and seductive. Alive.

  Even now, she could taste his kiss. She could feel the roughness of his hands on her skin, and the weight of his body as he’d trapped her beneath him. Heat began to throb between her legs, her body sore in a thoroughly satisfying and dangerous way.

  She groaned and closed her eyes. Sex with a stranger was bad enough. Unprotected sex was beyond stupid. And to have it with a man like Cort McClaine…Dear God. What had she been thinking?

  He would destroy her.

  She simply didn’t have enough left in her soul to survive Cort McClaine.

  “Are you insane?” The question was snapped at Cort as his front door slammed open less than an hour after he’d climbed out of the bed he’d just shared with Kaylie, letting a blast of frigid air into his cabin.

  Cort glanced over his shoulder at Luke Webber, his business partner. Even the pilot’s dark sunglasses didn’t hide the annoyance on Luke’s face. Nothing like a cranky bush pilot to take Cort’s mind off the woman showering in his bathroom. “Am I insane? Yeah, probably.”

  He sure as hell felt like he was losing his mind, listening to Kaylie shower. Picturing her naked.

  Like last night.

  Cort got hard the minute he let his mind go back to that moment, and he jabbed his fork into the hash he was cooking. What the hell had he been thinking? Women like Kaylie were so far off-limits for him, he didn’t even bother to think of them as females, let alone take them to bed.

  For eight years, Cort had been too smart to go down that road again, and in one night, he’d fallen off the damn wagon.

  And he wanted to march right in there and do it again.

  Which definitely made the answer, yeah, he was insane. Not that it was anyone else’s business.

  Bottom line, Cort was done with Kaylie.

  No more sex.

  No more carting her around in his plane.

  He was pawning her off on someone else, and that was it.

  “What’s your problem?” Luke kicked the door shut in a show of physical aggression he rarely exhibited.

  “My problem?” Cort raised his brows at the uncharacteristic hostility in Luke’s voice. Luke was the stable one of the partnership. “What are you talking about?”

  “What I’m talking about is the fact that if you kill a client, our business is shot to hell.” Luke stamped the snow off his boots with enough force to drive a stake into frozen ground. “Taking off into a storm like that with a client?”

  Cort took a slow slug of the sludge he called coffee, realizing that Luke must already have heard the details about his trip to Jackson’s cabin yesterday from Max. “It was an emergency.”

  “Fuck that.” Luke tossed his jacket over the couch and strode across the floor, helping himself to a battered mug and the coffeepot. “Even you should have known better than to take off in those conditions.”

  “Don’t recall asking for your postmortem. The situation was complicated.” Cort leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest as the shower shut off. It was about damned time. How much water did that woman need running over her body anyway?

  Luke took a gulp of the coffee and made a face. “You’re the only one in this godforsaken state who still drinks crap like this. Try a Starbucks, for God’s sake. You might like it, and it’s easy as hell to get off the Internet, even up here.”

  “And take the first step toward becoming civilized? Not my style.” Assuming Luke was there to poach food, Cort cracked five more eggs into the hash of sausage and egg, mixing it up on his range top.

  Luke grabbed a kitchen chair and lounged back in it, elbow on the table. He was wearing a thick black sweater, jeans, and his insulated boots. Something about that damn sweater made him look like the Lower 48 scientist he used to be, instead of the bush pilot he’d turned into. Even after eight years as an Alaskan, Luke Webber would always fit in with the geeks he flew all over the state to research some plant or migratory pattern.

  “What’s going on with you?” Luke asked.

  Cort grabbed a jug of orange juice out of the fridge and sloshed juice into two beer mugs, handing one to Luke. “What’s riding your ass now? Did I leave crumbs in the Cub?” Luke cherished the tiny Super Cub, the first plane he had soloed in.

  Luke ignored the drink. “You trying to go down like your parents?”

  Cort shot a sharp look at his partner as he set the OJ on the table. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve always been crazier than most bush pilots, but you know your limits. You’re insane, but you’re so damned smart about it that you’re safer than anyone else in the sky.”

  Cort dumped most of the egg and sausage concoction onto two plates. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Luke shook his head. “You’re crossing that line. Going up yesterday based on some cryptic phone message? And taking a client with you? Even you wouldn’t have done that six months ago.” Luke leaned forward. “Everyone knows you go a little off around the anniversary of your parents’ death, but this time, it’s different. You want to kill yourself, that’s your business. But it’s not acceptable to take me down with you. I didn’t liquidate my retirement to fund this operation just to have you destroy it.”

  Cort dropped down into the seat next to Luke, tossing the two plates on the table. “Your investment is safe.” He was well aware that Luke’s infusion of funds eight years ago had kept his business from going into the sewer. Luke had needed a new start, and ten years of having Cort fly him around Alaska for scientific expeditions had convinced the Lower 48 scientist who wanted to learn to be a pilot that Alaska was where he needed to be. Cort had been scraping the bottom due to legal fees and a seriously fucked-up personal life, and it had been a perfect solution for them both at the time. And ever since.

  Luke was the cash and the business sense. Cort was the one with the experience and the contacts. The partnership worked, and worked well.

  Cort considered Luke a good friend. He was smart and levelheaded, and a hell of a pilot. But he was a pain in the ass, the way he thought that he could stick his nose into Cort’s personal life whenever he felt like it. Luke had never quite figured out personal boundaries. Probably a scientist thing.

  “What’s your obsession with getting yourself killed?” Luke asked.

  “I have no intention of dying.” Cort shoved a forkful of hash into his mouth, annoyed by Luke’s calling him out. So he liked to push the edge. The only time Cort felt alive lately was when Death was sitting on his shoulder, thinking he was finally going to get a chance at him. Flying was in Cort’s blood, but it hadn’t been enough on its own lately. It took more and more to make him remember he was alive. To feel.

  Except last night. With Kaylie. Cort’s body was still burning from that encounter.

  “No interest in dying?” Luke scoffed. “You could have fooled me.”

  “A two-year-old could fool you.”

  Luke snorted, then leveled a hard look at him. “Do me a favor.”

  “Depends on the favor.” But they both knew Cort would. In Alaska, you took care of your own, and Luke definitely qualified. Besides, a favor owed was a boon that could save a man’s life in the future. “What is it?”

  Luke leaned forward. “Avoid killing any cl
ients, at least for the next few weeks until we get delivery of the new plane, okay?”

  Cort took a bite of the hash. “I’ll do my best.”

  Luke surveyed him. “You need anything, you let me know.”

  Cort finally met Luke’s gaze. “I’m okay.”

  Luke studied him a minute longer, then nodded.

  Point made. Discussion closed.

  The problem of Cort’s restlessness was not. That issue was still dogging him, and the only reprieve Cort had gotten was currently getting dressed in his bedroom. Hell. Maybe he shouldn’t kick Kaylie out. Maybe he should keep her around and use her to take the edge off.

  “Sorry about Jackson,” Luke finally said. “He was a good man.”

  “Thanks.” Steeling himself against emotion, Cort briefed Luke on what had happened.

  By the time he finished, their plates were empty, and Luke was looking grim. “Think it was a grizzly attack?”

  “Hell, no. Since when do grizzlies slice a throat?”

  Luke leaned back in his chair. “Who’d go after Jackson? And kill Sara? The girl couldn’t have made a single enemy in her whole life. She was as sweet as—”

  The door to Cort’s room opened, and both men swung toward the entrance as Kaylie walked in. Her hair was damp, curling over her shoulders. Her jeans showed every curve of her body, and a shiny black shirt dipped low, showing acres of glistening skin. Diamonds glittered in her ears, and a red stone on a gold chain hung between her breasts.

  The woman was dressed for a cocktail on a candlelit balcony, not for a hash breakfast in a rustic cabin on the edge of an airfield.

  Kaylie was all female, and Cort knew exactly what she was hiding beneath those I-don’t-belong-here clothes.

  Cort swallowed, blood shooting for his groin like a mule deer with a cougar on its tail. Every cell in his body came alive with a hello-Mary wake-up shout, and he couldn’t stop his slow smile as he recalled sinking deep inside her last night. “Morning.”

  Her gaze flicked to his, then slid away almost instantly. “Hi,” she muttered.

  He narrowed his eyes at her obvious withdrawal from him. She was clearly broadcasting she was not “available.” And that message transformed her from a one-night refuge into a challenge he couldn’t resist.

  He had to get her back into his bed.

  Luke’s jaw dropped as his gaze shot back and forth between them. “Hell.”

  He shot a questioning look at Cort, but Cort ignored his friend.

  Instead, he kept his gaze relentlessly on the woman trying to diss him. “Sleep okay?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, fine.”

  Cort gestured to Luke. “This is my business partner, Luke Webber. Luke, this is Kaylie Fletcher. The client from yesterday.”

  Kaylie focused on Luke, making an obvious effort not to look at Cort. But he knew she was as aware of his presence as he was of hers. The appealing rosy hue across her chest and the rapid pulse in her throat was a dead giveaway.

  “Nice to meet you, Luke,” she said.

  Luke inclined his head. “Sorry about Sara. Always liked her. A real sweetheart.”

  Kaylie’s smile began to tremble. “Yes, she is. Was.”

  “Made some extra for you,” Cort interrupted, gesturing toward the stove to give Kaylie a break, when he saw her eyes begin to glisten. “If you like eggs and sausage, it’s all yours.” He started to shove his chair back. “Take a seat.”

  “Thanks. I’ll help myself.” Still not looking at him, Kaylie walked past the men, and Cort caught a whiff of the same flowery scent he’d inhaled last night. It sent the lower half of his body into high alert, straining at his jeans.

  Luke raised his eyebrows at Cort as Kaylie served herself, and Cort shrugged. “She crashed here. Storm.”

  “Storm?” Luke echoed, letting his skepticism show.

  “Yes, the storm.” Kaylie sat down at the other end of the table, her plate fully loaded. “Trust me, Cort’s not my type, so there’s nothing to gossip about.” She glanced at Cort, and her cheeks reddened before she ducked her head and began eating.

  An awkward silence fell, broken only by the roar of an approaching vehicle. “I’ll check that out. Probably the state troopers, to head out to Jackson’s place.” Luke was on his feet and out the door, coat in his hand before the first echoes had faded.

  The door shut behind him, leaving Cort and Kaylie alone.

  Silence, except for the scraping of her fork on the plate. Cort clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, content to watch her for a moment. The movement of her throat when she swallowed, the way she licked a crumb off her lip, the slope of her collarbone…

  She set her fork down and looked at him. “Stop it.”

  He raised his brows. “Stop what?”

  “Last night was a mistake.”

  “Yep. It was.” Amen to that. Getting tangled up with a woman like Kaylie was more stupid than getting between a mountain lion and his prey.

  Kaylie hesitated. “Then why are you looking at me like you want to do it again?”

  “Because I do.”

  “No.” She folded her arms over her chest, but the pulse in her neck was beating faster. “Absolutely not. It can’t happen.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged and took a swig of his coffee.

  She hesitated. “Okay? Just like that?”

  “Sure.”

  Her eyebrows knitted together. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

  Cort leaned forward suddenly, startling Kaylie into jumping back in her chair. “Listen, Kaylie. Last night was a mistake, yeah. I wasn’t going down that road with you, but I did.” He trailed his finger over the back of her hand, not surprised when she jerked it away. “You got under my skin, and that’s not going to change. You have two choices.” He gestured at the door. “You can sashay that pretty little ass of yours out the door and go back to Seattle, and we’ll never see each other again.”

  She swallowed. “I’m not—”

  “Or you stay with me and end up in my bed again. It’s the way it is.”

  Her eyes flashed with fury and she leaned forward, into his space. “I’m not going home until I have answers about Sara and—”

  “I’ll find the answers.” He didn’t keep the lethal coldness out of his voice, and her eyes widened. “Jackson was my friend, and I take care of my own. His death will be addressed, as will Sara’s. You don’t need to stay in Alaska for that.”

  “I do.” Her anger had subsided, replaced with a grim determination. “It isn’t just Sara. My family has gone missing on Mount McKinley, and if there’s any chance they’re alive, I have to stay to find them. They’re all I’ve got left, and I’m not leaving until I have answers about all of them.”

  He frowned. The locals now called McKinley by one of its original names, Denali, but the unforgiving nature of the mountain hadn’t changed. “Your family’s missing? Is that why you’re here?”

  She looked surprised. “Sara didn’t tell you?”

  “She wouldn’t tell us a damn thing about you. Said it was your business.”

  “Oh.” Kaylie’s face softened. “Sara was like that.”

  “How long has your family been missing?”

  “About ten days.”

  Shit. He hated this part of his life. “Listen, Kaylie, the weather’s been shit up there for the last couple weeks.” He softened his voice, though well aware that how he delivered the news wouldn’t soften the blow. He knew it, because he’d had to give this speech too many times when a worried friend or family member had shown up to hire him for a fruitless mission. “If your family has been missing for a week on the mountain, the odds are high that it’ll be a search for bodies, not living people.”

  “Stop.” Kaylie held up a hand to silence him. “I know the facts, but there might be a chance this time. I have to know.”

  Her defiant tone made him pause. “What chance?”

  Kaylie scooped up the last bite of hash.
“I got a call two days ago. The man said my mom was still alive.”

  Cort waited, but she didn’t add anything. So he asked, “What else did he say? Who was he?”

  She swallowed her food and shrugged. “That was all. Just, ‘Your mother is still alive,’ and then he hung up.”

  Oh, hell. She was hanging her hopes on some random crank call? Son of a bitch. Cort was going to lay out the bastard who’d called her, if he ever found out who it was. “Listen to me, Kaylie. If it had been a legitimate call, he would have identified himself, given you contact info or something. Not just a random one-liner and a hang up.”

  “I know.” Kaylie sighed, some of the light fading from her eyes. “I know it’s probably just a prank. But I have to find out. Don’t you get it? How could I not? Otherwise I’d always wonder if I could have saved her.”

  “Kaylie.” Cort leaned forward, took her hand before she could pull it away, and tightened his grip when she tried to free herself. “It’s a sick joke. Don’t let some bastard set you up.”

  She yanked her hand out of his. “I have to do this. I owe my family that much.”

  He swore. “I—”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to burden you with my problems. Sara had already hired a guide named Dusty Baker, so I’ll find him and he can fly me around.”

  “Dusty Baker?” That made no sense. “He has no business flying you around Denali. He’s not a mountain flier. You sure that’s who Sara hired?”

  “Of course I am.” Challenge flashed in Kaylie’s eyes. “I suppose you’d be better?”

  “Yeah, I would, but I’m not an expert on Denali either.” Cort rubbed his jaw, aggravated that Sara would have hired Dusty, no doubt taking pity on the ancient guide who needed the job. But Old Tom was the resident legend on Denali, the logical choice. Jackson would have known that, which meant that Sara hadn’t bothered to consult her husband…a thought which made Cort shake his head. He’d always liked Sara, but her heart had always been too soft for the bush.

  “Well, I’m not hiring you to fly me, so it doesn’t matter.”

  Cort’s attention snapped back to Kaylie at her comment. “You shouldn’t ride with Dusty. He’s not sharp enough anymore.”