Wilderness Passion Read Online Free PDF

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 she was mesmerized by the play of muscles in his forearms as he coaxed the Jeep through the Gordian knot of curves, ruts and steep inclines. His features were closed and unreadable, but she thought she detected a fierce glimmer of challenge in his restless blue gaze as he missed nothing surrounding them. A new feeling developed within her toward Dan Wagner: she would be safe with him in this frightening environment that would be her home for the next three weeks. Maybe her foray into the wooded interior wouldn’t be so bad because Dan would be there to protect her.
    “Been using those boots I sent you?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
    “What? Oh, the boots. Yes.” She smiled, meeting his glance. “You never did send the bill for them. Let me know how much they were and I’ll write you a check.” A golden glint of humor danced in her brown eyes. “That is, if you trust me to write you a check that won’t bounce.”
    Dan Wagner’s features remained inscrutable. But for just a brief second Libby saw him thaw, and it left her breathless. Was he human after all?
    “I don’t send a woman a gift and expect her to pay for it.”
    Libby’s eyes widened. “B-but—” she stammered, not wanting to owe him anything. “I did some shopping at a few backpacking outlets in San Francisco, and a good pair costs upwards of—”
    “What’s the matter, Doctor, do you think the gift means you owe me something in return?” he asked.
    Stung, Libby gasped. “I—”
    “I know, you’re one of those liberated women who can make their own way in the world. They don’t like to owe anything to anyone.