Dodging Cupid's Arrow

Chapter Five

Joe paced the porch of the lodge, glancing through the woods at Perrie's cabin every few steps. He stopped and stared across the snow, then resumed his pacing.

"Just what are you up to, Kincaid?" he muttered.

If he hadn't known better, he'd have suspected she'd already achieved her escape from Muleshoe. Over the past few days, he'd barely caught sight of her. In fact, whenever he was around, she seemed to disappear. When Joe had asked Burdy what they'd been up to in the last few days, the old trapper had been oddly close-mouthed.

Whatever they'd been doing, it had kept Perrie out of his hair and off his case. He wasn't sure whether she was still training to enter the brides' competition in the Muleshoe Games. And to his knowledge, she hadn't made another attempt to engage a pilot Perhaps she'd finally resigned herself to the fact mat she'd be staying here in the wilderness until Milt Freeman said it was all right to go home.

The thought of Perrie leaving Muleshoe caused an unwelcome pang of regret. To be honest, he enjoyed her company. Even though they spent most of their time arguing, he found her to be a challenge. Unlike the other women he'd known, Perrie hadn't instantly fallen victim to his charms. He had a sneaking suspicion that turning on the charm did more to turn her off than anything else.

She was smart-not just intelligent, but clever, with a biting wit and the ability to see right through his motives. He liked sparring with her because she wasn't afraid to stand up to him. She kept him constantly off balance for he was never quite sure what she'd do or say to prove her point… and Perrie always proved her point.

He had found one chink in her armor, though. She liked to kiss him. And he sure as hell liked kissing her. His mind flashed back to the kiss they'd shared in the snow in front of her cabin, the feel of her body stretched beneath the length of his, the taste of her lips and the silken feel of her hair between his fingers.

If she hadn't put a stop to their roll in the snow, he wasn't sure where it would have led. All he knew was that Perrie Kincaid had a way of testing the limits of his control. Had she wanted, she could have teased him right into dragging her into her cabin and making love to her.

But she hadn't wanted. She'd taken him far enough to prove who was really in control and then she'd slammed on the brakes. But had it all been a game with her? Or had she experienced the same reckless desire that he had? There was something in the way she kissed him…

Normally, he maintained such rigid control around women, taking care to keep his emotions in check. But whenever he came within ten feet of Perrie, it was as if his oil pressure suddenly dropped and he lost all altitude. No matter what he did to compensate, he couldn't seem to keep himself level with the horizon.

If he didn't know better, he might think he was falling in love with her. But then, how the hell would he know? He'd never been in love before. And he wasn't sure that he'd even know love if it kicked him in the behind. Still, he knew what love wasn't and it wasn't supposed to be easy.

That was the problem. In all his relationships with women, everything had always been so easy. From the time he was old enough to notice the opposite sex, they were noticing him with undisguised appreciation. He'd cultivated his talent for charming women quite early in life and it had served him well. But it always seemed so simple… too simple. And anything that easy wasn't worth having, was it?

No, the only things worth having were the things he'd had to fight for, the things that offered up a challenge. Joe had never backed away from a challenge in his life. Hell, that's how he'd ended up in Alaska, why he'd jumped at the chance to fly search and rescue, why he continued to find himself drawn toward Perrie Kincaid.

He looked up to find himself standing at the door of her cabin. Frowning, he glanced back at the lodge. He had stepped outside to retrieve his logbook from the front seat of the Blazer, but somehow he'd ended up here. Cursing softly, he turned around, but then an idea struck him and he decided to knock.

"Hawk?" she called, her voice muffled by the door.

Jealousy tweaked his temper. Since when had Hawk been visiting her cabin? He hadn't even known they'd met. Hawk hadn't mentioned it. Besides, what could the two of them possibly have in common? Perrie never stopped talking and Hawk never seemed to start.

"Burdy?" she called after he didn't answer.

"It's Joe," he finally said.

"What do you want?"

By the sound of her voice, Joe could tell he was the last person she wanted to see. She slowly opened the door and stood looking up at him, tugging her bulky cardigan more tightly around her as if it might offer some type of protection. Frigid air and a spindrift of snow swirled around her feet and he noticed that she'd found some new footwear, a pair of handmade mukluks.

"New boots?"

She looked down. "Hawk gave them to me," she said.

Another surge of jealousy rushed through him, but he bit back a defensive reply and forced a smile. "Then you met Hawk?" he asked.

"A few days ago. What do you want?"

He felt her impatience growing and he scrambled for a reason for his visit, certain she was about to slam the door in his face. "I was wondering if you'd like to take a little trip."

Joe cursed inwardly. That wasn't what he'd intended to say at all! What the hell was he doing, inviting her to accompany him on a supply flight? Jeez, they'd actually have to be in each other's company, trapped inside the plane, for at least a few hours.

Perrie studied him suspiciously, then frowned. "What kind of trip?"

"I'm flying up to Van Hatten Creek, about sixty or seventy miles northwest of here, to deliver supplies. And I thought you might like to come along. But you don't have to if you don't want to." He almost hoped she'd refuse. "I have to warn you that if you go along, you're going to have to promise that you won't sneak off and try to get yourself back to Fairbanks."

"Today?" she asked.

"No, next month," Joe said sarcastically. "What? You have other plans?"

He watched as she considered his invitation for a long moment. What possible alternative did she have? It wasn't as if there were that much to do in Muleshoe. Unless she and Hawk had plans… with each other. He fought back the last rush of jealousy he'd tolerate and forced another smile. He would have thought a trip out of Muleshoe would be too tempting to pass up. After all, wasn't that what she'd been angling for since she arrived?

"All right," she replied. "I guess I'll come along."

He didn't expect to feel happy about her reply, yet he did. In fact, he was looking forward to spending the day with Perrie. Perhaps they'd be able to forget the animosity that hung between them and institute a truce of sorts. Maybe then she wouldn't have to run to Hawk for companionship.

"And if you're thinking about sneaking back to Seattle, you might as well know that the nearest settlement to the Gebhardts' cabin is about thirty-five miles away over pretty rough terrain. And John Gebhardt doesn't own a plane. And there are no roads, either. So, you still want to go?"

"I'm not thinking about sneaking off," she snapped, her eyes narrowing in anger. "Why do I get the distinct impression that you don't trust me, Brennan?"

He grinned, breaking the tension between them. "Gee, Kincaid, no wonder you're such an ace reporter. Here I thought I was fooling you. Now, get your jacket and mittens. And put a few more layers of clothing on. We're leaving in five minutes. I'll wait in the truck."

He turned and strode down the front steps of the porch, leaving her to stare after him. He could almost read her thoughts. What was he up to? she was wondering. Joe Brennan wasn't the type to do something nice for Perrie Kincaid, especially since she'd been such a pain from the instant they'd met.

Perhaps he was hoping for a truce of sorts. But it would have to be an uneasy truce to begin with. If she thought for an instant he was letting down his guard, she'd be sorely mistaken. He wasn't about to go soft on his promise to Milt Freeman.

By the time he'd pulled the Blazer out of the shed and turned it around, she had made her way up to the lodge. She hopped inside the truck and slammed the door, then turned to Joe. To his utter surprise, she smiled at him. Not a cool, calculating smile, but a sweet and genuine smile, a smile that warmed his blood and made him forget his resolve.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I was starting to go crazy inside that cabin."

Without a reply, Joe put the Blazer in gear and maneuvered it up the narrow drive to the main road. He felt her gaze on him many times during their drive into Muleshoe and out to the airstrip, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

When they arrived at the airstrip, he drove right up to the Super Cub, then turned off the ignition. He watched as she searched down the row of planes for the familiar Otter that she'd arrived in, before her gaze returned to the Polar Bear Air logo on the tail of the Cub. Apprehension colored her expression, and for a moment she almost looked afraid. The Super Cub was a small plane, with room for only two, maybe three passengers, but it was the best plane for bush flying because it was able to take off and land virtually anywhere-gravel bars, frozen rivers, even on the side of a mountain.

"Nice plane," she murmured.

"You'll like the Cub. It's a great little plane."

"I think little would be the operative word here. Why are the wings fluttering like that?"

"They're made out of cloth," Joe replied.

"Cloth," she repeated.

He hopped out of the truck and ran around to her side. For a moment, he thought she might lock herself inside the Blazer and refuse to get into the plane. Obviously, there was a limit to her stubborn pride and her constant need to best him. That limit was sitting next to the truck, the stiff wind fluttering the fabric wings, the passenger cabin no larger than a carnival ride.

"You'll love it, I promise. It's a bluebird day, Kincaid. A day perfect for flying."

Perrie bit her bottom lip, then forced a smile as he helped her out of the truck and into the cramped rear seat of the plane. He slipped into the pilot's spot in front of her, and in moments the engine burst to life, the propeller a spinning blur in front of them.

They bumped down the snow-covered airstrip, gaining speed, the plane shuddering and shaking until it felt as if it would fly apart at the seams. Then, in an instant, they were airborne and the Cub rose like a bird on the wind, almost silently, save for the soft whine of the engine. He heard Perrie slowly release the breath she held and then a small sigh escaped her lips.

He turned and looked over his shoulder at her. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes were wide as she peered out the window, then looked at him. "This is incredible," she cried. "It's not like we're in a plane. I feel like a bird, like I'm flying under my own power. It's… it's so exhilarating."

Joe smiled and banked sharply to the north. "It's the only way to see Alaska, Kincaid."

"I knew it was wild, but until you see it from the sky, you don't realize how desolate it all is. It's almost frightening."

"Makes you feel kind of small, doesn't it? As if all the problems in your life are pretty insignificant."

"Yes," she said softly. "It does."

They flew for a long time in silence, then Joe banked the plane to the right and pointed out the window. "That's Van Hatten Creek," he said. "And you can see the Gebhardts' cabin in the little clearing to the south. You'll like the Gebhardts."

"We're going to land?" Perrie asked.

"Yeah. Whenever I deliver supplies, I stop and have lunch with John and Ann and their kids. Stuck out in the bush like this, they enjoy the company. And Ann's a helluva cook."

"But where are we going to land?" Perrie asked.

Joe glanced back to see her worriedly looking out the window for a break in the thick wooded terrain. "Right down there," he said. "Between the cabin and the creek."

"What? There's not enough room to land a plane down there. I thought we were going to throw the supplies out the window. I didn't know we'd be risking our lives on this trip."

"Sweetheart, I could put this plane down on the roof of their cabin if I had a mind to. You just watch. Like a walk in the park."

"This is no time to prove a point, Brennan. Just put the plane down where you normally do. And try not to kill us in the process."

He glanced back to see her fumbling with her seat belt. "Don't you trust me, Kincaid?"

"Not as far as I can spit," she replied.

Joe chuckled, then banked the plane to the left and began a sharp descent over the treetops. He heard Perrie cry out in alarm as they dropped out of the sky, the skis almost skimming the spruce forest below. And then, a tiny screech as they touched down. And finally, a long moan that stopped as soon as the plane did.

He unbuckled his seat belt and twisted around, only to see the color gradually return to Perrie's pale face. "What'd I tell you, Kincaid. like a walk in the park."

Perrie stumbled out of the plane on wobbly knees, grateful there was solid ground beneath her feet. She couldn't believe how they'd simply dropped out of the sky onto a tiny patch of snow. The plane had barely touched the ground before it skidded to a stop just yards from a thick stand of spruce. She'd been told that Joe Brennan was a great pilot, and now she'd seen proof.

She took a few steps then stumbled. He reached out to steady her, his hands lingering on her waist for a long moment. And then, to her surprise, he stole a quick kiss, his lips touching hers, sweet and fleeting. "Are you all right?" he asked, cupping her cheek in his hand.

Perrie nodded, flustered by Joe's sudden show of affection. The kiss seemed so natural, so easy that she momentarily forgot that he took such pleasure in making her miserable. Kissing him made her feel just the opposite, all shivery and flushed at the same time. "I-I'm glad we're on the ground," she murmured.

When she finally regained her composure, she turned to see a family hurrying toward the plane, the two small children, dressed in hooded fur parkas and tiny mukluks, stumbling through the snow to get to Joe. Joe scooped them both up in his arms and twirled them around before setting mem back down.

"Did you bring us a treat?" the smallest child cried.

"Don't I always bring you a treat, Carrie?"

The little girl nodded, then grabbed Joe by the hand to lead him back to the plane. While he unloaded the supplies from the Cub, the parents of the two children approached Perrie. They were both dressed in larger versions of the fur parkas that their children wore.

"I'm Ann Gebhardt," the woman said, holding out her mittened hand. "And this is my husband, John. And those are our two kids. Carrie, who's four, and Jack, who's three. Welcome to our home."

Joe stepped up beside her, a wooden crate balanced under each arm. "Ann, John, this is Perrie Kincaid." He paused. "She's a… friend who's visiting from Seattle."

Though she should have found his description of her awkward, she actually had to smile. Did Joe really consider her a friend? She'd assumed he thought of her as a thorn in his side, a thorn he enjoyed kissing every now and then, but a thorn nonetheless. But maybe they were becoming friends. The notion wasn't that distasteful-especially if it meant they'd be kissing each other on a regular basis.

Ann slipped her arm through Perrie's and led her toward the cabin. "For once, Joe brought me a treat. I don't think I've had an adult conversation with another woman for two or three months."

Perrie looked at her, shocked by the revelation. "I can't believe that."

"The last time we left the cabin was at Thanksgiving to visit friends who live thirty miles from here in Woodchopper. The winters are always a little lonely. But once summer comes, we do some traveling."

They slowly climbed the front steps of the cabin. Perrie glanced back to look at Joe, but he just grinned and gave her a wave, then turned back to the two children, who had tumbled into the snow at his feet. "I'd like to hear more about your life here," Perrie said.

"What could you possibly find interesting about my life?"

She laughed. "I'm a reporter. I find everyone's life interesting." In truth, she couldn't help but admire a woman who chose to live in the midst of the wilderness, a woman who faced true challenges every day.

Ann opened the front door of the cabin and showed Perrie inside. The tiny home was snug and cozy, a cheery fire blazing on the hearth and the smell of fresh-baked bread thick in the air. "This is my life," Ann said, tugging off her parka and fur mittens and hanging them on a hook beside the door. "It's hard to believe I once lived in a co-op in Manhattan and worked at one of the city's largest brokerage houses."

"You left New York City to come here? That must have been quite a change."

Ann took Perrie's jacket and pulled out a chair at the table near the fire. A few moments later, she placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, then turned to tend a cast-iron pot hung over the fire. "I came up here on a vacation six summers ago, and when it came time to go home, I couldn't. I just couldn't bring myself to go back to the rat race, so I chucked it all and moved here. I had plenty of money saved, enough to live on for years. I worked a few odd jobs and then I met John. He was teaching botany at Columbia and was here for the summer on a grant to study plant life near the Arctic Circle. After a month, he asked if I would marry him, and then we decided to stay here in Alaska so he could continue his work. And here we are, with two kids, living in the bush and loving every minute of it."

As Perrie sipped her coffee, she learned more about the Gebhardt family's life in the wilderness. After only a half hour, she felt as though she and Ann had been friends for years. Perhaps that's what living so far from civilization did-it made instant friends of perfect strangers.

She admired the woman's tenacity and strength, her incredible ability to make do with whatever the land offered and to be completely satisfied with her life. Perrie had always considered herself quite resourceful, but compared to Ann Gebhardt, Perrie Kincaid was a soft and spoiled city girl who couldn't survive a week without telephones, grocery stores and electricity. Maybe Joe was right. Maybe she didn't have what it took to live in the Alaskan wilderness.

They continued to talk as Ann set the table, until John and Joe burst in the front door, the children scampering around their feet. Joe had brought the family three crates of supplies and a small box of books for John's research. The family approached the delivery as if it were Christmas, delighting in each item as it was unpacked from the crates.

Once everyone had shrugged out of their parkas, they all sat down to eat a hearty meal of caribou stew and bread, fresh and warm from the oven. For dessert, Ann served a dried-apple tart with thick cream she poured from a can. It was the best meal Perrie had ever eaten, tasty and satisfying, more so because she knew how much work had gone into every ingredient.

The conversation during dinner was lighthearted. The Gebhardts were interested in any bit of news from the civilized world, and Joe recounted everything that was happening in Muleshoe, including the latest on the mail-order brides and the upcoming Muleshoe Games. Time after time, their gazes met across the table and she made no attempt to look away.

Ann and John listened to his stories closely, laughing at the silly asides that Joe added to each story, and Perrie found herself completely enamored of her companion. He was so warm and witty that he could melt the heart of even the most jaded listener.

When he finally ran out of news, he and John grabbed the two children and settled in front of the fire for a game of Chutes and Ladders. Ann brought Perrie another cup of coffee and sat down across from her.

"Well, I've told you everything you wanted to know about living in the bush. Now it's time to tell me all about you and Joe. It's so nice to see that he's finally found someone."

"Found someone?" Perrie paused, then smiled in embarrassment. "You think that Brennan and I are… Oh, no. We're just friends. I mean, we're not even friends. Most of the time we pretty much hate each other."

Ann laughed. "I can't believe that. The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. It's obvious how you two feel about each other."

"I-we-I mean, we're really just friends. We barely know each other."

"He's smitten. I've known Joe Brennan for a long time, and in that time, he's known a lot of women. But I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"How many women?" Perrie asked, her curiosity finally getting the best of her. "Just a ballpark figure."

"Well, I dated him for a few months," Ann admitted. "Until I met John. But there was never really anything between us."

"You dated Joe?" Perrie said, her voice filled with disbelief. She shook her head. "Are there any women left in Alaska that he hasn't dated?"

"He's a real charmer, our Joe. But that doesn't matter, now that he's found you."

"He didn't find me," Perrie said. "I was sort of dropped on his doorstep. He doesn't even like me."

"Oh, he definitely likes you. He may not realize it yet," Ann said. "But he will. Just you wait and see."

"I'm not going to be around long enough for that. As soon as I can, I'm heading back to Seattle. Back to civilization."

"That's what I said every day of my vacation six years ago. But this place just grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. To think that I almost went to Paris for two weeks instead of coming here. Sometimes little decisions have the ability to change the entire course of our lives. It must have been destiny." The last was said with a wistful smile as she turned her gaze to the two children playing in front of the fireplace.

They continued to talk of inconsequential things, but Perrie's thoughts returned again and again to Ann's odd assessment of Joe. Perrie had seen nothing in his behavior to indicate that he cared in the least for her. Sure, he'd kissed her a few times. But to hear Ann tell it, Joe Brennan had probably kissed half the female population of Alaska.

No, there was definitely nothing going on between them. Perrie Kincaid was an expert at reading the motives of those around her and she'd picked up nothing from Joe Brennan except hostility and disdain, punctuated by a few crazy moments of intense passion.

A few minutes later, Joe returned to the table with his empty coffee mug. "I'm afraid it's time for us to go. Perrie and I have one more stop before we head back to Muleshoe."

"So soon?" Ann cried. "It seems like you just got here."

Perrie stood and Joe helped her into her jacket. When she was all bundled up against the cold, she gave Ann a hug, then stepped back. Suddenly, she realized that she'd probably never see this woman again, and after they'd become such instant friends. Ann would live her life in the bush and Perrie would return to Seattle.

She wasn't sure what to say. "Have a nice life" seemed so trite, and "See you soon" sounded like a lie. In the end, she simply said goodbye and walked out the front door to the plane, turning back once to see Ann waving at her from the porch.

Joe helped her back into the plane and she continued to stare at the family. "They're really living life, aren't they?" Perrie murmured as he took his place in the seat in front of her.

"Yes," Joe said, "they really are."

"She's very brave. I don't think I could ever live out here."

"I bet you could," Joe replied. "In fact, I think you could do pretty much anything you set your mind to, Perrie. You just have to have a good reason to do it."

"What would I do out here? I mean, there are no newspapers to write for, no politicians to expose, no readers who want to know the truth."

"You don't even know what you're capable of until you try."

Joe started the engine on the plane and Perrie girded herself for a white-knuckle takeoff. Maybe Joe was right. Maybe she'd been so occupied with her career in Seattle that she'd never even considered any other options.

But why should she? She loved her job. And she was perfectly satisfied with her personal life. What more could she possibly want? She had no answer for that question, but she sensed that somehow Ann Gebhardt, a woman who lived in the middle of nowhere and existed on nothing, had much more than Perrie would ever have.

Perrie stared out the window of the Super Cub as it skimmed over a vast, flat landscape-endless white from horizon to horizon. It looked so different from the mountains and forests that surrounded Muleshoe. She glanced at her watch and realized they'd been in the air nearly a half hour, easily enough time to get back to the airstrip at Muleshoe.

She sat up and tapped Joe on the shoulder. "Where are we?" she asked.

"That's the southern edge of the Yukon Flats below us," Joe replied. "We're not far from Fort Yukon and the Arctic Circle. I thought we'd take a little side trip. I have something special I want to show you."

"We're that far north?" Perrie asked. "What are we doing up here?"

Joe looked over his shoulder and smiled. "You'll see," he said.

A few moments later, Perrie felt the plane begin to descend. "What's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

"Nothing. We're going to land."

She stared down at the desolate wilderness below. Unlike the small area they'd landed in at the Gebhardts', there were plenty of wide open spaces to put down here. But there wasn't a cabin in sight. "There's nothing down there."

"There's a lot here," Joe replied, peering out the window, searching for something in the snow below. "You just have to look a little more closely."

He finally set the plane down on a wide, treeless expanse of snow, landing so smoothly the only thing that told her she was on the ground was the hiss of snow beneath the plane's skis. He shut the engine down, then helped her out of the plane, tossing a pair of down sleeping bags at her feet.

"We're spending the night here?" Perrie asked.

He threw a thick blanket over the engine to keep it warm. "Only if you get really lucky," he teased. "Come on."

They walked away from the plane, his eyes scanning the area, still searching. Then he stopped and unrolled the two sleeping bags. Wrapping one around her shoulders, he pointed to the ground. Once she was settled, he sat down beside her in the snow and handed her a pair of binoculars.

"Are you going to tell me what we're looking for?"

"Just be quiet and watch," he said.

They sat, silently, for more than a half hour. Though the sun was bright and the air calm, she still felt the cold seeping into her bones. She was about to ask him when they would leave when he slowly raised his arm and pointed to the horizon. "There," he murmured.

She held up the binoculars and stared out over the snow. A movement in her field of vision caught her attention and she carefully focused. Her breath caught in her throat as a huge gray wolf appeared out of the snow.

"I saw him for the first time about three years ago," Joe explained. "I was flying some supplies up to Fort Yukon in the Otter and had some engine trouble, so I had to put the plane down. I was working on the engine when all of a sudden I looked up and there he was, watching me."

"Weren't you afraid?"

"Wolves aren't aggressive. They're afraid of man and would never attack unless they're provoked. Or sick. I think he was just a little lonely, wandering around out here on his own. He was a lone wolf, a male without a family. Probably kicked out of his pack by the alpha male."

Perrie glanced over at him. "Burdy called you a lone wolf once."

Joe smiled. "I guess I am. But not as alone as Romeo was. He was completely alone."

"Romeo?"

"That's what I named him. Every time I flew up here I'd check on him. Sometimes I wouldn't see him for months, and then, there he'd be. He's harder to spot in the winter since he has to wander farther for food. But I think he's starting to recognize the sound of my plane."

"Really?" Perrie asked.

Joe laughed. "No. I'd just like to think we're friends."

"You do have a lot in common."

"Maybe." He paused, scanning the area with his binoculars again. "At least we did, until he found Juliet Look, there she is."

Perrie trained her binoculars to the left of Romeo. Standing near the huge gray wolf was a smaller black wolf. "His mate?"

"Yeah. Romeo finally decided to settle down a couple years back. I guess he got tired of playing the field."

"Maybe you should have given him some advice," Perrie teased. "The way I hear it, you've got quite a way with the ladies."

"Don't believe everything you hear," Joe said.

"If I were writing a story on your love life, Brennan, I'd have more than enough confirmation to go to print." Perrie studied the wolves for a long moment, then put the binoculars in her lap and looked at Joe. "What about you?" she asked. "Do you ever think about finding a Juliet?"

"Wolves mate for life. I'm not sure I'm the type to be with one woman forever."

"Me, neither," Perrie said. "I mean, with one man. I suppose some people are happy with that. But I've never met a man that I could imagine spending the rest of my life with."

"Maybe you just haven't met your Romeo," he said softly, looking down at her.

"And maybe you haven't met your Juliet," she countered.

His gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. But then he turned away. "Look," he said. "There's the rest of the family."

Three other wolves appeared behind Juliet, about the same size as their mother but lankier.

"They had five pups last summer," Joe explained, "but they lost two of them sometime in the fall. I'm not sure what happened."

"That's sad," she said.

"That's life in the wilderness," he replied. He glanced at her again. Then, without hesitation, he leaned over and touched his mouth to hers. His lips were incredibly warm, sending a pulse of heat through her body that seemed to drive away the cold.

His tongue teased at hers, and for an instant, she thought about drawing away. But her common sense had fled and she was left with only instinct and the overwhelming need to have more. Unlike their first, challenging kiss or the frantic meeting of mouths that they'd experienced in the snow, this kiss was different. It was slow and delicious, filled with a longing that she didn't know existed between them.

She didn't want him to stop this time. Instead, she wanted to pull him down on top of her and find out how Joe Brennan really felt about her. And how she felt about him. As if he read her thoughts, he gently pushed her back into the soft down sleeping bag, his lips never leaving hers.

Everything that had stood between them-the arguments, the mistrust, the fight for control-simply dissolved, swept away by the stark solitude of the wilderness. They were completely alone, a brilliant blue sky above and nothing but untamed country all around them.

She felt wild, primal, uninhibited, like the wolves they'd watched, driven by instinct and pure need. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips, to run her hands through his hair. Impatiently, she slipped off her mittens then clutched at the front of his down jacket, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly, his breath hot against her mouth. "We're doing it again," he murmured. "You're making me crazy, Kincaid."

"I know," Perrie said, breathless. "We should stop. But I don't want to stop."

"No, we shouldn't stop," Joe said, tugging off his gloves. "Not this time." He pushed her hat off to furrow his hands into her hair. Tipping her head, he kissed her again, deeper and longer, his mouth plundering hers until her head spun with uncontrolled desire.

She shuddered, the passion radiating through her in waves. Joe pulled his sleeping bag over them both, ere-ating a warm cocoon. Slowly, he tugged at the zipper of her jacket, then slipped his fingers beneath the layers of sweaters she wore. When he finally met warm skin, she heard him suck in his breath and hold it.

"This is not the place to do this," Joe said. "It's ten below zero."

"It's warm enough," Perrie said.

Joe pushed himself up, then looked at her, playfully running his finger along her bottom lip. "But there are much warmer places to be, sweetheart. We don't have to risk frostbite to be with each other."

Perrie closed her eyes. "You know, we'd be risking a lot more than frostbite if we let this happen again." Her common sense had returned in full force and she sat up and tugged her jacket closed. "This is ridiculous, Brennan. We can't keep doing this."

"Why not?" Joe asked.

Perrie opened her mouth to reply, then realized she didn't have a good reason. There had to be a reason. "Because we can't."

Joe nuzzled her neck. "That's not a good reason, Kincaid. If you ask me, we do it pretty well."

"That is not the point," she scolded, pushing him away.

"What is the point?"

"I don't know." The truth was, she did know, but she was too embarrassed to put her feelings into words. She liked Joe Brennan and she liked it when he kissed and touched her. And she thought about him a lot more than she wanted to. The problem was, she didn't want to be like all the other women who had lost their hearts to a quick smile and handsome face. "I-I don't know," she repeated softly.

"Well, until you do, I'm going to keep kissing you, whenever and wherever I want."

Perrie zipped her jacket then began to search for her mittens and her hat "I think we'd better go now."

Joe grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. A long, lingering kiss shook her resolve and she found herself slipping back into the languid pool of desire she had just left behind.

"Whenever and wherever," Joe murmured, nibbling at her lower lip. With a teasing grin, he kissed the end of her cold nose, then scrambled to his feet. He offered her a hand up and she took it, expecting him to draw her back into his arms.

But he didn't. Instead, he grabbed the sleeping bags from the ground and rucked them beneath his arm. "Come on, Kincaid. Let's get you back home where you'll be warm and safe."