Fatal Attractions

by Jeanne Foguth

  “Into the ground?” Tempest demanded, “Aren’t warning shots supposed to go into the air?”

  “Only in the movies.” Stone tweaked her spiked hair, then stood up. “In real life, we shot downward so we know where the bullet is going.” Tempest gave him a doubting look. “Think about it. If a shot is fired into the air, it could come down most anywhere within a mile radius.”

  “That wouldn’t be good.” Tempest wrinkled her nose. “It could hit anyone.” She looked around the empty land. “Or anything.”

  “Bingo,” Stone said.

  “So he’s only taking it for in case.” He nodded. Tempest scrambled up and gave Stone a quick hug. “Thanks, Mr. Stone.”

  “You really want to thank me?”

  She nodded, black and fuchsia spikes quivering like the quills of a nervous porcupine.

  “How about dumping the mister?” At her look of protest, he held up his hand. “If losing the title makes you uncomfortable, call me Uncle, like you do Link.”

  “Well-“ Tempest’s voice faded, as she looked for help. Ariel nodded. “Okay.” She jumped to her feet, skipped to Link and grabbed his hand.

  “Need some help with that?” Stone asked.

  He was too close. Too helpful. Too male. Too kissable. Too sincere. Too desirable. “I can get it,” Ariel said.

  “Fine. Don’t forget your bags.” He pointed to the filthy pile of filled ones. Her confusion must have registered on her face. “Place them inside your tent for support.” He gestured toward her tidy pile of tent stakes. Up here, those are no use.” She looked from the tent stake in her hand to the grubby bags.

  Heat crept up the back of her neck, as understanding dawned. “The ground is eternally frozen.”

  “Bingo.” Of course regular stakes won’t work. How could she have been so obtuse? “When you get a chance, I could use an extra hand.” Ariel looked over her shoulder, to where his tent stood proud and green. “Getting the rain-cover on works better with two.”

  Ariel stood up and brushed the dirt off her hands. “A lot of things are easier that way.” His smile became leering. A blush burned its way up from the soles of her feet into her cheeks.

  ~0~

  Despite being a divorcee or widow or whatever Ariel was, she acted like a cloistered virgin. Other things were odd about her, too. Though she acted protective towards her daughter, there was something intrinsically different between their relationship and the way his mother treated his sisters. Perhaps it was simply because Windy and Brit were adults, but he sensed the difference went beyond age. He supposed whatever was nagging at him could be as simple as her parenting style. Single parent versus two parents; prosperity versus need … any number of reasons could account for the disparity between their relationship and the mother/daughter interaction he was accustomed to.

  Different strokes for different folks. Stone shrugged. Ariel Danner’s body certainly looked caressable - particularly her full breasts. Were they really the perfect size to fit his hands? Her legs were lovely, too. It would feel great to caress her toes then move up to her arch, and he couldn’t ignore her dainty ankles.

  With a harsh curse aimed at his unexplainable obsession with one blushing brunette, Stone shook out the rain-guard. She cringed. His own neck heated. “Sorry. Guess I don’t spend enough time with ladies. I’ll try to remember not to cuss.” He forced himself to focus on the project at hand and not wonder any more about her. Working together, they positioned the rain-guard and tied it into place. Ariel gave him a shy smile, dipping her head when her cheeks flamed scarlet.

  They worked without speaking. He focused on tying secure knots. When his tent’s rain guard was secure, they collaborated on hers. With a start, Stone realized that he liked her quiet shyness better than the sensual fantasies, which often kept him awake at night.

  Stone said, “Care to take a walk?”

  Caution suffused her expressive eyes as she took a quick look around the area. “Shouldn’t we finish setting up the camp?” Her voice cracked. She winced. Tension? Worry? … Desire?

  He glanced from the bedrolls, visible beyond her open tent flap, to her. “Fine, I’ll show you the best way to arrange the gear.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “A walk sounds great. Just let me get my sketchbook.” She yanked the duffel bag she’d just tossed into the tent back out, as if she was afraid to go into the tent for fear he’d trap her in it. What kind of a sex-crazed maniac did Ariel Danner think he was?

  Stone stomped to the Cessna and grabbed his Winchester rifle. When he returned, he focused on the leather-bound sketchbook clutched in Ariel’s white-knuckled hand. His sister, Brittany would have coveted its antiquated styling as well as the worn, well-used patina the leather had developed. Though Stone was tempted to ask Ariel where she’d found it, the way she held onto it gave the impression of long-term ownership, which made it unlikely he could acquire a similar one for Brittany’s upcoming birthday. “Looks like you’ve been sketching for a long time.” She nodded. He tried again, “Ever taught anything other than – what exactly is it that you teach?”

  “Science… This is a hobby.”

  He gave her an encouraging look, but she didn’t continue the conversation. “Did you bring your camera?”

  She shook her head, then raised the sketchbook. “I haven’t had one in years.” Clutching the volume to her chest, she looked at the ground. “I promise not to waste too much time.”

  Anyone who preferred to sketch their memories instead of snap a quick picture intrigued him. He chuckled. “Relax. We don’t have a deadline.” She glanced up, her expression hopeful. What kind of a jerk had she been married to? One that took her so for granted? For his part, Stone was interested to see what the pages of the much-loved book contained. He tried to peek over her shoulder, but she turned away. He was as likely to see her etchings, as he was to see if her underwear equaled her sex appeal. His manhood quivered at the thought, then Ariel’s tongue darted out and moistened her lips. He nearly groaned with the intensity of his body’s reaction.

  “I started sketching about twenty years ago.” She clasped the worn leather to her chest in an embrace he envied. “I wish I found more time for it.” Stone swallowed hard. “Drawing is so relaxing that I’ve done it ever since. The earliest sketches were pretty juvenile, but I’ve gotten better with time.” Ariel clamped her lips together, as if irritated at having said too much. She looked tense enough to shatter. A kiss could calm her.

  And another kiss could alienate her forever. Stone inhaled deeply and looked at the horizon. It had been close to a week since he’d tasted her lips, but the memory was still vivid; the temptation powerful. He had to keep it light or he’d kill any chance at gaining her trust enough to - to what? He wished he knew what he wanted from her. “I imagine being able to draw comes in handy.”

  “How so?” The charcoal pencils were clutched so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

  Damn, she would have to pin him down on that comment, wouldn’t she? “Biology was a core requirement.” He grimaced at the memory. “We had to draw pear cells as seen under the microscope… I almost flunked the class.” His tone hardened. Ariel shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he should have flunked it instead of asking Marishka, who had the best sketches in their class to help him. Failing biology would have been far less traumatic than having her set her claws into him and scar him for life.

  She cleared her throat. “Are we going to leave and take that walk, soon?”

  Stone resettled his Winchester on his shoulder and shook off his bitter memories. Ariel visibly cringed away from him. “What’s wrong?” he snapped. He immediately regretted his angry outburst. How could he ever explain the way Marishka’s manipulative methods still torn at his soul, when he wasn’t even certain he understood?

  Ariel focused on a distant spot. He turned, trying to see what held her interest. “I hate guns.”

  So did her kid and hadn’t she agreed wholeheartedly with the points he’d made? Would she forc
e him into the BS of going over the safety value of having a rifle, again? “You’d better get over it. Up here, everyone carries.”

  “That really reassures me.” He stalked away.

  Chapter 6

  Ariel stared at his retreating back. Link had landed moments after spotting the herd. He and Stone had probably intended to hunt all along. The big question still was: did the prey they’d really come after have four legs or two? She would never have accepted their invitation, no matter how Tempest pleaded, if she’d known the trip was a hunting party. And she’d certainly never have accepted if she’d realized she’d come face to face with the devil incarnate.

  The question remained: were Stone and Link Peter’s associates?

  Stone’s wide shoulders thrust forward, as if matching pace with his long legs. Was he supposed to bring them to this remote location so Peter could torture them at his leisure? If so, why didn’t he give any evidence of smug satisfaction in a job well done?

  Did his behavior mean the meeting had simply been a coincidence?

  Ariel’s heart hammered at the hand pressed against her heart. What to do – what to do. She didn’t want to walk into one of Peter’s mind-games, if that was what this was. Ariel swallowed, but the lump remained. She didn’t want to be left alone in the middle of nowhere with a chest of food and no protection from the predators, which might raid it, either. And she certainly didn’t think her skill in kickboxing would protect her against something that would consider her lunch.

  She didn’t like how easily Link and Stone had separated her from Tempest. If this was just an innocent hunting trip, staying with Stone would be the least of the possible evils, but she didn’t want to watch an innocent animal die, either. Ariel blinked away tears. Despite Stone’s assurances that he carried the rifle for protection, she’d witnessed Peter’s definition of self-protection one time too many. She looked from the plane she didn’t know how to fly to the pair of forlorn tents to Stone’s strong form. Being left alone in the desolate camp felt like the worst scenario – at least it would until she saw blood and death.

  Ariel hurried after Stone.

  Jogging behind a black-clad, silent hunter brought back bitter memories. For the hundredth time, she thought how it would be just like Peter to let them recognize him, allow them escape, only to have their get away, so they could land in the heart of his trap.

  The real question was if he could possibly have identified them, when she could barely recognize her own reflection.

  Doubtful.

  Ariel stopped, looked around the frozen land and inhaled deeply, allowing the cool freshness deep inside as she gazed at almost desert-like landscape. If she hadn’t testified against her stepfather, would she ever have come here? Had doing what was right actually given her a more interesting life than the cozy partnership in the pediatric practice she’d been offered?

  Her life was definitely more exciting.

  She grimaced at the truth.

  In many ways, it was more interesting, too.

  But while being on the run had brought her closer to her half-sister, it had also torn both of them away from family, friends, and security. Ariel studied Stone’s wide shoulders and trim hips as he calmly kept walking, either unconcerned that she wasn’t keeping up or not aware she’d accompanied him. If he worked for Peter, he would have noticed. She heaved a sigh. She really had to stop tormenting herself with what-ifs about Peter. And she needed to stop fretting about Tempest disappearing with Link and wondering if he was a pervert. She glared at the barren land. She had to stop thinking everything was some sort of trap. If their getaway was part of Peter’s scenario, he’d be waiting for them, a smile on his lips, just over the next rise.

  Stone’s pace slowed. Her heart sank. She shook her head as if denial could fend off her worst fears. Don’t let Stone and Link belong to Peter. Ariel looked back at their lonely little camp and wished she could silence the squirrel-cage of fear that kept playing and replaying in her thoughts. Would she die in this eternally frozen land, no matter what she did?

  “Come on,” Stone urged softly. “They should be visible any minute.”

  They who? Link and Tempest? Peter and whomever else he might have brought with him to witness the revenge he’d promised? Her legs felt frozen in place. Stone motioned for her to come, then when she didn’t move, he disappeared over a rise, leaving her behind. If he was part of Peter’s latest plot, running back could get her a bullet in the spine. Advancing could gain her time and perhaps even a chance to really escape.

  Ariel took a deep breath and walked forward.

  A cloud darkened the sun.

  Not a good omen.

  The last time she’d felt this cold and alone, she’d been three years old. Snow had coated the ground as her mother pushed her higher and higher with each sweeping arc of the swing. That time, she’d shrieked with delight. This time, she tripped on a something, fell flat on her face and hit her temple. Everything turned black.

  Unseen rain bathed her face. Her body swayed, and she detected the faint taste of salt, but she couldn’t hear any surf or the storm that had enraged the sea.

  “Are you okay?”

  Ariel’s eyes jerked open. Stone’s face, silhouetted against the pale sky, hovered close to her, his expression alarmed. She fingered her aching forehead, amazed that she didn’t feel a bullet hole. Her body pitched forward, then from side to side and with every second she got closer and closer to the nausea she’d been fighting since seeing Peter in Deadhorse.

  It took all her concentration to realize that Stone was sitting on the ground, cradling her in his arms while he rocked her like a baby. The concern in his eyes warmed her more than the heat from his body, because it was an emotion Peter didn’t possess.

  “Please stop. I’m getting seasick.” Her world instantly stabilized. She wished her stomach would respond as quickly. “Thank you,” Ariel said.

  “For what?”

  “Not treating me like I’m a moron.”

  “Why? Because you didn’t take the Dramamine, when you obviously should have? That is what’s been wrong with you, isn’t it?”

  She moistened her lips and opted for a partial truth. “I’m terrified of guns and the violence they imply. The sight of blood-“ She shivered, as she recalled a bloody memory. “I’m the last person on earth anyone would want to take hunting.” Fortunately, she’d gotten past the revulsion before she started residency training, but she still thought the worst parts of her real profession were surgery and forensics.

  He frowned as he fingered her forehead. “That rock you tripped on had some nasty consequences.” Through the heavy fabric of his shirt, she heard the steady comforting beat of his heart. For the first time in years, Ariel relaxed in a man’s arms. “Luckily it looks like you have as hard a head as I do.” Dimples deepened next to his mouth. He nudged hair away from her temple and studied the sore spot, then his thumb tenderly traced the contour of her jaw. Stone O'Banyon had the most incredible bedside manner she’d ever experienced. He’d make an amazing doctor.

  Sensual awareness surged through Ariel in a heated rush. The next wave of awareness carried terror of her reaction.

  She couldn’t keep forgetting that Stone might be the enemy. She had to stay focused or she’d end up dead. She scrambled to her feet, but a wave of dizziness hit her. She swayed, nearly falling, he grabbed her waist, without truly restraining her. She clutched the steel-like cords of his arm. Though it seemed unlikely, perhaps he really was the safe harbor she dreamed of.

  “Steady.”

  What was wrong with her head? Had she somehow been drugged?

  “You look ready to fall flat on your face, again.”

  She felt woozy.

  “Here,” Stone said, as he wrapped an arm around her, “let me help you back to camp.”

  Ariel blinked. If he wasn’t forcing her forward, it might not be a trap. “I’ll be fine if I just sit down for a bit.”

  His sapphire eyes studied he
r. “Are you sure?”

  “No.” She would be, if she knew what her problem was. Ariel took a step away from him, but immediately regretted the movement when she lost her footing and pitched forward.

  A second later, the earth beneath her feet vanished, Stone swooped her into his arms, and he was carrying her up the gentle slope. “As long as you don’t want to go back to camp and do want to sit, we might as well have a seat with a great view.” He carried her over the ridge’s low crest. Just beyond it, the sprawling herd of caribou grazed, each bite taking them a couple inches westward.

  He hadn’t lied; at least not about the herd. This was just another example of why she deserved to be crowned the queen of paranoia. “They’re beautiful.” Or at least they would be, until one or more lay bleeding on the ground.

  Stone grunted in agreement, then settled onto the ground, all the while keeping a firm hold on her. A moment later, his face lowered, blocking the sun. A chaste kiss on her temple brought back bitter memories of times Peter had made a show of being the perfect, adoring stepfather. Her jaw clenched. Stone contentedly held her close, rested his chin on top of her head, and ignored her, as he watched the herd.

  Peter would never have wasted a kind effort unless he had an audience or was pulling a con. She narrowed her eyes, as she looked up at him. He held her gaze, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned a fraction closer, as if he intended to give her another get-better-kiss. If he worked for Peter and was simply stalling, then perhaps she could use her previous dizziness to her advantage or at least compromise his loyalty to Peter a little. Before she thought about the possible complications, or could talk herself out of it, Ariel twisted to face him, wrapped her arms around Stone’s neck, pulled him close, and brushed her lips over his. Then, she trailed the tip of her tongue lightly across his lower lip. His massive body shuddered, but instead of following her lead, he pulled back. She tightened her grip, but he easily turned her so her so they were both looking in the same direction and tucked her head under his chin.