On Thin Ice

by Cherry Adair

  There. Proactive. She felt better already.

  In the narrowing corridor of onlookers, her dogs lunged and danced in their traces, crazed with excitement. They were all eager to take off, to do what they did best. Lily felt the same urgency, the same frantic pull tearing at her to get started.

  Her heart raced with excitement, her fingers flexed on the handlebars. Let's go.

  "One more thing," a smoky voice said. Lily whipped her head around to find Derek standing beside her sled again. Oh, for God's sake! Couldn't he take a hint? Her heart sped up a little. Damn it. "Not again."

  His deep blue eyes twinkled. "Miss me?"

  "No."

  "Hey, Matt," Derek shouted in greeting, still looking at Lily. He dug something small out of his pocket and handed it to her in a tangle of thin black wires. His hand was tanned. And huge, well shaped and masculine. A hand, Lily thought bleakly, that was probably capable of exerting tremendous pain or giving a woman exquisite pleasure.

  Lily had caught a glimpse of the man behind the lighthearted flirt last year when Derek's sister and husband had visited. Lily had walked into the barn to find Derek stretched out in the hay with his two nieces as they observed a cat and her newborn kittens. She'd stood in the shadows and watched them, as a lump formed in her throat.

  Her first thought had been a sickening envy at the sight of the two little blond girls with their sweet giggles cuddled up to the long, hard body of their uncle, whom they worshipped. The sight of their tiny coveralls and cute little cowboy boots made her heart twist.

  She'd never have children. At the time she'd been trapped by Sean's illness into a loveless, sexless sham of a marriage.

  Derek had reached out absently and tugged at the littlest one's ponytail. The child had given a war whoop and thrown herself onto her uncle's back. Sophisticated Derek Wright had rolled about in the straw, heedless of his black cashmere sweater and designer boots, his enormous hands gentle as he tickled and cuddled the little girls.

  He'd been so gentle, so sweet with the kids, it had made Lily's heart yearn and ache.

  Another time, she'd heard the frost in his voice as he'd implacably told off a hired hand who'd treated one of the horses roughly. The man had been drunk and belligerent and Derek had him packed up and fired without raising his voice. The expression on Derek's face had chilled Lily to the bone. She'd never seen anything as unforgiving or cold.

  Would the real Derek Wright please stand up? Lily thought dryly. The glimpse she'd had of him with the children had made her want to know more. She'd driven back home as fast as possible, all the while giving herself a firm mental kick in the pants.

  She kept her hands stuffed in her pockets. "No thank you."

  "You don't even know what I'm giving you."

  "Neither do I want to. Go away."

  Lily watched him untangle the wires with an amazingly delicate touch.

  "This," he told her, snagging the front of her jacket with one large hand to keep her in place, "is a lip mic. I want you to wear it from tomorrow until the end of the race."

  "Well, damn, and I thought a smart guy like you would know girls prefer jewelry to electronics," Lily said sweetly. Damn it. He was too close. His breath smelled of the coffee he'd drunk, his skin smelled of soap and his hands—what the hell were his hands doing?

  "Cut it out! Don't take off my ha—Damn it, it's freezing! Hey! Don't stick that thing in my hair." Lily slapped his hand away. "I'm not wearing it." That's all she needed, Derek in her ear as she was trying to find peace. She yanked the small headset free and stuffed it back in his warm hand. "Thanks for the thoughtful gift, but I don't take presents from people I don't like."

  His lips twitched. "At least clip it to your collar. Here, see? You don't even have to turn it on if you don't want to. Just for emergencies. Please? For me?"

  "Take it, sis. It's a good idea."

  Lily shot a glare at her stepbrother. "Et tu, Brute?" She spun around to Derek when Matt gave her a sheepish smile. "I like silence just fine. Having you yakking away in my ear for a thousand miles will drive me nuts."

  "I asked nicely."

  "Yeah. Which makes me suspicious as hell."

  "Come on, Lily. Do I have to say it?"

  "Say what?"

  "I'd feel a hell of a lot safer knowing you were nearby if I have any problems with the dogs."

  She gave him a suspicious look. He appeared sincere. And was still considered a novice… "Okay," she said, against her better judgment. "Show me how it works and I'll keep it in my poc—"

  "Clipped to your collar. Here." His hand brushed her throat, causing Lily to shiver from the soles of her feet to her hair follicles. He clipped the small mic to her collar, then handed her back her gray and white fur hat. She tugged it on, glaring at his back as he strolled off into the crowd.

  "Wow. That was some intense interaction," Matt said, giving her a curious look. "What was that about?"

  Snagging her attention away from happy homicidal thoughts, Lily shrugged. "Just a Derekism."

  "Ever wonder what it would've been like," Matt asked, "if you'd chosen Derek instead of Sean?"

  "No." She'd made her bed all those years ago. And if she had thought about it—occasionally, briefly, fleetingly—it was always with relief she hadn't continued seeing Derek. Sure, Sean hadn't been perfect—not by a long shot. But Derek wasn't without issues, either. Just different issues.

  "He's far too rich for my blood, for one thing," Lily told him.

  "I thought all women believe you couldn't be too thin or too rich. Nothing wrong with being loaded."

  "Not that kind of rich," Lily said. "Rich as in too much dark chocolate in one sitting, rich as in one too many wool blankets on a cool night, rich as in—"

  Matt wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a teasing eye roll.

  Well, hell's bells. She wasn't about to tell her brother Derek was too darn hot to handle without an asbestos shield.

  "I always thought you were a little in love with him."

  "What? No way. That wasn't love. It was pure irritation. The man would flirt with a rock if it had eyelashes and boobs."

  "Hey! I've dated women like that."

  Lily grinned. "You have not." If Matt dated it was rare. There weren't that many single women in Munroe. "Why don't you start a practice somewhere like Seattle, or Boise? Somewhere where there are women?"

  "Happy as a pig right where I am. But thank you for trying." He touched her nose. "Scared?"

  "Only a fool wouldn't be," Lily told him absently. "Believe me, I have a healthy respect for wild animals."

  "I was talking about Derek."

  She grinned. "So was I."

  "He's the most unwild man I know."

  "Have you ever looked into his eyes when he wants something?"

  "Um, no." Matt's lips twitched. "But I do know," he said seriously, "if I was ever in a crunch he'd be the guy I'd want at my back."

  She gave her brother a startled look. Yes, Derek could look frighteningly menacing at times. But it was an illusion. "You must be kidding me. He's almost as unreliable as…"

  "Sean?"

  "Yes."

  "Wrong."

  "How can you say that knowing as well as I do that when he's needed, he's off on some exotic vacation?"

  "Not every time. And when he's not there he has excellent people in place who are. Ash, Sam, Joe."

  Lily scowled. "He owns the damn ranch. He should be there."

  The noise level was suddenly so high she could barely hear herself, and she realized their voices had been getting louder to top the crowd. "Hold that thought," she shouted, then made a hand gesture to indicate she was focusing on the race.

  She didn't want to see Derek, or talk about him or think about him for the next week or so.

  "Fourteen," the announcer yelled before beginning yet another countdown. Every two minutes another team advanced to the line, dogs straining against their handlers, the mushers riding the break. The crowd went nuts, scream
ing and shouting encouragement, clapping their gloved hands and narrowing the dog-run corridor as they pressed in for a closer look.

  "Settle down, kids," Lily yelled at her impatient team, her breath crystallizing as she made one last check. Anticipation reared its head and roared through her body like a freight train run amok. She was as eager as the dogs to get moving. "Almost our turn."

  Four

  His heart raced with expectation, even though it would be days before he dared do what he'd been instructed to do. It'd been a while since he'd killed anyone. Still, once you got past the whole moral thing, killing someone was nothing more than an especially interesting exercise. And killing a woman, particularly this woman, held a certain morbid appeal. Not that he had much choice. It was kill Lily Munroe or be disposed of himself. And there was no doubt in his mind at all which of them was going to win that contest.

  It had to look accidental—which shouldn't be difficult at all. But there was nothing saying he couldn't have a little fun first.

  Derek had broken down the initial three legs for his first day on the trail. An hour and a half to get to Knik—a Lily sighting there. Three, maybe six hours to Yentna Station and the second Lily sighting, then another six to Skwentna, where he planned to stop and sleep for a few hours to rest the dogs and arrange a third Lily sighting. By then, she'd be too damn exhausted to fight with him. Time with Lily. That was the goal he would focus on during the first twenty-four hours.

  How the hell was he going to pull this off? Derek wondered, on automatic pilot as his dogs, all trained by Lily, followed an invisible trail in the snow. It was bitterly cold. He hadn't caught sight of her in several hours, but thanks to his GPS he knew exactly where she was. He forged on ahead of her.

  He was on a roll, comfortable, easy, as he let the dogs do their thing.

  Now the race was really on.

  The only reason he was here, the only reason he'd taken any interest in the Iditarod at all, was because of Lily. They'd never been friends, Derek thought. He'd taken one look at Lily as she'd loaded bales of hay into her dilapidated truck at the feed store six years ago, and he'd wanted her more than he'd wanted his next breath.

  Every scrap of finesse had been shot when he'd glanced up and her eyes had widened. Thank God, he'd thought, she feels it, too.

  But his heat had frightened her and she'd run. Run straight into Sean's open arms. Sean Munroe, who wanted to be Derek. But that was then. This was now. Derek wasn't planning on skipping any of the courtship stages this time.

  He was just going to accelerate them to warp speed.

  She was going to have to learn to trust him, and since there was nowhere out here for her to run from him, she was going to have to learn fast.

  He'd given her six months. More than enough time to mourn Sean. Derek was done waiting. It was time to tell her some truths.

  "Hello?" Click-click. The sound of a fingernail tapping echoed loudly in his ear. "Damn it, how do I turn this frigging thing—Hello? Hey! Derek?"

  She'd slipped on the headset. Pleased, Derek's lips twitched at the annoyance in her voice. "Hey, Doc. How're you doing?"

  "I just wanted to see how this thing worked. Amazing. You sound as if you're whispering in my ear."

  Not yet he wasn't. "Everything okay?"

  "Fine."

  "Call me anytime you want to talk."

  "I don't," she said, already sounding as though she regretted contacting him in the first place.

  Derek grinned as he heard the crackle when she tried to turn off the small electronic listening device.

  It didn't work, and for more than an hour he'd eavesdropped on Lily praising her dogs.

  "Ah, hell."

  "What?" she yelled, clearly startled by his voice right in her ear.

  He drew his custom Baer from his pocket and clicked off the safety. "Moose."

  A male, easily six feet high at the shoulder, stood silently in the tree line up ahead. Its enormous antlers indicated it was young and had yet to shed them even this late in the season. A young bull could be territorial, protecting its mate—Jesus, there were any number of reasons for it to be pissed. It turned its massive head slowly back and forth as if using its ears as a nature-made radar system.

  Lily hissed a curse in Derek's ear. "Don't mess with it!"

  "Trust me, sweetheart," he whispered to the woman who was miles away, "I want nothing to do with him. But he's blocking the trail."

  There was no telling what a wild animal might do if it thought its territory was being invaded. And a damn moose could tear a man to bits with its hooves and antlers. Perfect. Dodge bullets most of your adult life and get killed by Bullwinkle.

  He was going to try to slip by, as silent as a ghost. "Gee! On by!" he told the dogs, keeping his tone matter-of-fact and even. Eyes forward, Derek kept a peripheral bead on the giant in the trees for any sign of aggression. So far, so g—

  The moose laid back its ears, the long, coarse hair on its rump raised as if electrified. It tossed its head and stepped purposefully out of the trees on long spindly legs. Long spindly legs that could easily kick the hell out of anything as puny as a human and sixteen dogs.

  "Shit."

  Braced and ready, Derek held the weapon easily, balanced for one-handed shooting since his left was needed to control the dogs. A gunshot was sure to freak them out.

  The huge beast started its gangly run toward him. It was coming flat out, snow spraying in its wake, head lowered, eyes white and wild.

  Derek took one shot, aiming high and right to scare the animal off. In the eerie quiet the sound echoed off the snow and trees. The noise didn't faze the moose one iota, but it scared the shit out of the birds. In a flurry of flapping wings and squawks, twenty or so small gray birds cannoned from the nearby trees and took off like buckshot into the sky.

  "What's going on?" Lily demanded in his ear.

  "Give me a minute—"

  He got off another shot. Snow sprayed up in a white froth at the animal's churning feet. That one was closer. The moose stopped on a dime, raising its head, then stood its ground. Derek admired its steely nerves.

  "Come on, pal, shit or get off the pot," he said softly, running out of options. The next would have to be a kill shot. And he was reluctant to kill the magnificent beast just for protecting its home. But given a choice between the moose and protecting his own ass and that of his team, the moose would have to go.

  The animal moved restively, ears flat.

  The dogs, aware of the danger, yipped and snarled, straining against the lead dogs, Max and Kryptonite, who seemed focused on getting the team past the threat.

  Clark and Twit started barking madly; several of the others chimed in their two cents' worth. The moose's ears rotated like satellite dishes. One step forward, head lowered.

  Derek pulled on the lines. "Come haw!" He reined them to pull 180 degrees to the left. "Quiet, boys," he told the dancing dogs softly. "Just go on by and don't look at him."

  Clearly royally pissed at the invaders, several tons of moose charged again.

  Snow sprayed behind those lethal hooves as the animal raced toward Derek, head positioned for maximum damage on impact, close enough for Derek to see the whites of its eyes.

  "Ah, crap. Damn it to hell."

  Derek got off another shot, but the sled tipped at the same moment and the shot went wild. The moose kicked out with its front feet, hit the side of the sled—BAM! A fully packed sled was no match for a pissed-off Bullwinkle. The sled rolled, then fell on top of Derek with a shuddering thwack, spraying wet snow against his goggles. The sled was heavy with supplies, and for several moments he was in a protected spot as the furious moose rammed and battered a genetically choreographed attack.

  "I see you." Lily's voice was an urgent and welcome sound in his ears. "At least he's not after your dogs."

  Her words came directly in his ear. Thank God she wasn't the object of the moose's attentions. And at least the animal wasn't stomping his dogs into the sn
ow. Not yet anyway. He was another story. Those hooves were sharp and lethal as the enraged moose repeatedly kicked the shit out of the sled.

  There was a flat, familiar crack and the smell of cordite on the crisp, clean mountain air. Another shot. And another. The moose bellowed, turned tail and ran like hell back into the trees.

  "He's gone." Lily's relieved and mildly amused voice came through loud and clear as Derek shoved the sled and fallen supplies off his body.

  "My hero," he said dryly, brushing clumps of wet snow off his pants and coat as he watched her approach. A rancher through and through, Lily knew what she was doing with that gun, thank God. She looked like a bundled-up Amazon. An ancient warrior in a long fleece coat and furry boots. And he was damned glad to see her.

  She brought her team alongside his. The leads, Arrow and Max, immediately, and happily sniffed at each other. Derek wanted to do the same to Lily, but he was just a little afraid she might use the gun again.

  Lily gave Derek an up-and-down look. "Are you hurt?"

  "Only my ego."

  "Then you may never recover." Setting the brake, she hopped off her sled. Without offering, she put some muscle into helping him right his, which was top heavy and unwieldy. "Good job securing everything."

  "Thanks, teacher." He looked off into the trees where the snow had been violently churned and branches broken as the moose had made its way. "Think our friend's gone?"

  "Probably. I didn't hit him. But I scared him enough to deter him a bit. Why? Want to break?"

  "Let's go a few miles on before we do. My new friend might be lurking behind the trees waiting to jump out again."

  They continued on for several miles before deciding they were clear.

  Derek was actually quite pleased to take a break. And God only knew, Lily must be just as exhausted. The last several years had been hard on her. Little sleep and a lot of stress. The years nursing Sean, followed by the funeral, had taken their toll on her, although he'd never heard her complain. After Sean's death, Lily had put everything she had into her dogs. There must be at least a hundred of them by now. Training the dogs and then staying up all night for weeks on end helping the cows give birth, then training herself for the race day and night would exhaust anyone. But she'd rather be boiled in oil than admit it.