Dodging Cupid's Arrow

Chapter Seven

The woods were dark and silent when she returned home, the soft crunch of her boots echoing off the tall trees and disappearing into the night. Perrie had spent the entire day away from Bachelor Creek Lodge, simply to avoid seeing Joe again. Breakfast at Doyle's, lunch with the brides and practice for the games after that. She even spent an hour before dinner above Doyle's, reexamining what was left of the Muleshoe Monitor.

She wasn't really angry with Joe. But she wasn't ready to forgive him yet, either. One step toward a truce usually resulted in another step backward. Why couldn't they just get along? She was stuck here in Alaska for who knows how much longer, forced to see him every day, whether she wanted to or not. The least he could do was leave her in peace.

But did she truly want that? More and more, she found herself looking forward to their time together. And even worse, she enjoyed the bantering, the arguments, the ongoing battle for control. Joe Brennan was the first man she'd ever met who didn't let her walk all over him.

She'd always been a single-minded person, a woman who made her opinions known. Men had been attracted to her in part because of her notoriety, her position as a successful reporter. But Joe was not part of her world; he lived outside the orbit of the Seattle Star. He didn't care that she was Perrie Kincaid, award-winning journalist. He knew her as Perrie Kincaid, pain in the butt, unhappy guest, woman with a single mission-to get out of Muleshoe, Alaska, at any cost.

But lately, she hadn't been as obsessed with escape as she had been when she'd arrived. During her training session this afternoon with the brides, she'd all but forgotten her reason for entering the games. Through all the snowshoeing and wood splitting and dogsledding, her thoughts were on Joe-on how she'd prove to him that she could handle the rigors of life in the wilderness.

Something had changed between them, a change so subtle she'd barely noticed it. Since their day with Romeo and Juliet, she'd begun to look at Joe Brennan as more than just a minor roadblock in her plans to write the Riordan story. He had wormed his way into her life, teasing and cajoling, challenging her at every turn. In her mind-and her heart-he'd become an incredibly sexy, attractive, intriguing man.

Perrie slowly pushed open the front door of her cabin, trying to push the tangle of thoughts aside, as well. Why couldn't she make sense of this? She'd always had such command over her feelings. But Joe Brennan defied every attempt she made to define her feelings, to restrain her fascination… to keep herself from falling head over heels for him.

As she stepped inside and closed the door against the cold, she noticed a small white envelope on the floor in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be from Joe? But when she saw the childish scrawl on the outside, she scolded herself for such a ridiculous reaction.

With a tiny smile, she tugged a handmade Valentine from the envelope, realizing for the first time that Valentine's Day was coming up very soon. She'd never paid much attention to the holiday. Once she'd been transferred out of Lifestyles, she'd been spared the syrupy articles about hearts and flowers, sentiment and romance.

"Roses are red, violets are blue," Perrie read, "I'm happy to have a new friend like you. Sam." She traced her finger over the ragged letters of the little boy's name, a flood of affection filling her heart. She couldn't recall ever receiving a valentine before, beyond the little cards exchanged in grade school. No boy, or man, had ever taken the time to express his fondness for her in such a sweet way.

She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. Now was not the time for regrets. She'd never had any real romance in her life. But she'd had professional success beyond her wildest dreams. Her work was so exhausting she'd never noticed the empty apartment she came home to night after night. Why did it suddenly seem that it wasn't enough? Why did she feel as if she deserved more?

Perrie slammed her fists back against the door, only to have the sound echo back at her. She jumped away from the door and another knock sounded from the other side of the rough planks.

"Perrie, I know you're in there. I've been waiting for you to get back. Open the door."

She reached for the knob, then pulled her hand back. Drawing a long breath, she cleared her mind of all her silly romantic notions about Joe Brennan, as if he would somehow be able to read her thoughts once she opened the door. But she didn't anticipate the tiny thrill that shot through her when she came face-to-face with the man once again.

He smiled at her, the soft spill of light from the inside of the cabin illuminating the handsome planes and angles of his face. "Hi."

She couldn't help but return his smile. He had an uncanny way of soothing the tension between them, of charming away all the animosity with a teasing word or devilish grin. "Hi," she replied. It was all she could say with the breath left in her lungs.

What was wrong with her? She felt like a lovesick teenager. How could she have gone from complete frustration to heart-pounding attraction in the course of a single day? What had changed?

"Are we still mad at each other?" he asked.

Perrie sighed. Was it even possible to stay angry with Joe Brennan? She thought not. "No. I'll probably curse you up one side and down the other the next time I have to hike to the outhouse in the middle of the night, but for now, I'm feeling generous."

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "Good. Because I have something special I want to show you." He tugged her back outside the cabin, then pulled the door shut behind her.

"Where are we going?"

"Not far," he said.

He pulled a flashlight from the pocket of his jacket and they headed down a path that took them deeper into the woods. The tracks from the dogsled had packed the snow, and even in the dark, she knew they were headed toward the river.

They walked side by side, silent but for the sound of their boots against the snow. He held her hand, her bulky mitten firmly in his grasp, and when she slipped, he circled her shoulder with his arm, pulling her close.

It all seemed so natural between mem, this casual touching, as if they'd crossed some invisible line in their relationship that allowed them to acknowledge their regard for each other. She liked the way it felt, his hands on her, yet with no sexual overtones.

"Are we almost there?"

"Almost," he said. "Stop right here."

She looked around but saw only what she'd seen for the last few minutes. Thick forest nearly obliterating the stars above. Snow on either side of the path, illuminated by the weak glow from his flashlight. "What is it?"

He stepped behind her and covered her eyes with one hand. He placed his other hand at her waist to steady her, then nudged her forward. "Just a few more yards," he said. "Don't be afraid. I won't let you fall."

"I-I'm not afraid," Perrie said softly.

When she'd taken the required number of steps, he stopped her, then slowly pulled his hand away. It took a moment for her vision to focus and then her breath caught in her throat.

They stood on the edge of the forest, overlooking the wide, frozen expanse of the Yukon. And there, in the northern sky, hung a kaleidoscope of swirling color, so strange and unearthly that she was afraid to breathe. Red, purple and blue washed the black horizon in brilliance, like a giant spirit rising up into the sky in a jeweled coat.

"I knew you'd want to see this," he said.

"I-I don't know what to say."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his long, lean body. His chin rested on the top of her head. "You don't have to say anything. I wanted to be the one to show you."

"It's incredible."

"I've never seen an aurora this nice in the middle of winter. They usually occur in the fall and spring. But every so often, on a dark night in winter, the sky comes alive with light. You can almost feel it in the air."

"Do you know why they happen?" Perrie asked.

"Protons and electrons from sunspots start floating around in space," Joe explained, leaning over her shoulder until she could feel his warm breath on her face. "They get drawn into our atmosphere near the magnetic poles and they light up and dance and put on a show."

"Why didn't I notice it on the way home?"

"The headlights on the truck, the trees on either side of the road. Or maybe you just weren't looking."

Perrie turned around in his arms and stared up at him. She couldn't see his face in the darkness, but she wanted to believe he was looking down at her. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"I wanted to show it to you. I only wish you could see it from the air, because it's even more glorious. Maybe someday…" His voice drifted off when he realized, as she did, that there wouldn't be any "somedays" between them. "I thought you might write another story."

"I will," Perrie said.

They stood there for a long time, facing each other, Perrie imagining the strong features of his face, his chiseled jaw, which felt so good beneath her hands, and his mouth, as potent as aged brandy. She wanted him to kiss her, here and now, while they stood under this magical light. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and draw him close until all their thoughts became actions, words transformed into sweet taste and touch.

The intensity of her feelings took her by surprise. How could she have spent so many days with this man, yet never realized how she felt? A few days ago, she wanted nothing more than to put him out of her life. And now all she could think of was being near him.

She wanted him to kiss her, and hold her, and make love to her until the sun drove the colorful lights from the sky. The revelation sent a shiver through her and she trembled.

"You're cold," he said. "We should go back."

"All right," she said. As they retraced their path through the woods, Perrie's mind scrambled for a way to make this night last a little longer. She could grab Joe and kiss him, the same way she'd grabbed him that very first day in the truck, daring him to reveal his true feelings for her.

But she didn't want to force the issue. If Joe Brennan wanted her as much as she wanted him, then she would have to be patient. For the first time in her life, she didn't want the control. She needed Joe to take the first step.

But there had to be a way to encourage that, a way to show him how she felt. Perrie cleared her throat. "This was very thoughtful of you… Joe." His name didn't come naturally to her lips. She'd grown so used to calling him Brennan that "Joe" almost seemed like an intimacy reserved for lovers.

"You know there's nothing that says we can't be friends," he said, his attention still fixed on the path in front of them.

"What kind of friends?" Perrie asked.

"The kind that doesn't fight all the time?"

They reached the front porch of her cabin and he held tight to her hand as they climbed the slippery steps. "I'm sorry I've been so hard on you," she said. "I understand that you take your responsibility seriously." She opened the door and stepped inside, deliberately leaving the door wide in an unspoken invitation. To her relief, he followed her inside.

"And I can live with that," Perrie continued, shrugging out of her jacket. "If you can understand how important my job is to me. It's my whole life."

He took a step forward, then gazed down into her eyes. Gently, he drew his fingers along her cheek, and with a start, she realized that he'd removed his gloves. The contact sent a current of desire racing through her.

"There's more to your life than that, Perrie," he murmured.

She opened her mouth to contradict him, but the words that came out were not what she intended to say. "I want you to kiss me," she blurted. A flush of heat rising on her cheeks betrayed her mortification and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

He took her chin between his thumb and finger and forced her eyes back to his. "I want to kiss you."

But he didn't bend closer, didn't bring his lips down on hers. Instead, he slowly let his hands drift down from her face, running his fingers along her shoulders until his caress reached her breasts.

Perrie closed her eyes as he cupped the soft flesh in his palms, his warmth seeping through the layers of clothes until she could almost imagine his skin touching hers. She held her breath and he lingered there for a long time, teasing at her nipples until they were hard against his touch. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring down at her, his blue eyes glazed with unmistakable desire.

Slowly, the caress dropped lower, her skin tingling with every delicious inch. Her belly, her hips, her backside. And then he slipped his hands beneath the layers of sweaters she wore and began to work his way back up to where he began.

Still he didn't kiss her, though he moved close, his lips hovering over hers. His soft, uneven breathing was all that touched her mouth. His quiet words drifted into her consciousness. She tried to understand their meaning, then realized that they were as disjointed as her own murmured pleas.

Without his kiss, every sensation he created with his hands was more powerful, more deeply experienced, touching the very center of her soul. She wanted to tear her clothes off, and his, as well. And like the clothes they wore to protect against the cold, they'd been trapped under layers and layers of misunderstanding. She wanted to strip all that away, to find the real man beneath, alive with desire and vulnerable to her touch.

She reached out and unzipped his parka, then drew her hand along the front of his shirt. But when she moved to unfasten the top button, he stopped her, taking hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips.

He kissed her palm and each of her fingertips, then allowed her hand to drop to her side. "I'd better go," he murmured with a smile of regret.

"You-you don't have to go," Perrie said.

"Yes, I do. We just became friends, sweetheart. We can't become lovers in the same night." With that, he turned and opened the door, then walked out into the frozen night.

Perrie stood in the doorway, shivering in the cold, watching him make his way up to the lodge. When the frigid air finally cleared her senses, she began to realize what had passed between them. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. And the next time they were together, they would become lovers.

Perrie wrapped her arms around herself, a shudder of anticipation coursing through her limbs. For the first time since she'd arrived in Alaska, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay here at the lodge and learn what she already believed-that Joe Brennan would be an incredible lover.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Perrie looked around the room at each of the brides. First Linda, who considered her question with great seriousness. Then Mary Ellen, whose dreamy look predicted a romantic, movie-inspired answer. And then Allison, whose idea of love probably changed as often as the weather.

The brides' cabin reflected the full glory of tomorrow's holiday. Bouquets of hothouse flowers decorated nearly every surface, and Perrie had learned that one of the bush pilots had made a special run to an Anchorage florist to fill all the orders from the town's bachelors.

Boxes of candy littered the coffee table, and other gifts and tokens of affection were scattered about the room. The brides were scheduled to go back home at the end of the month, and the competition for permanent companionship was heating up. After the Muleshoe Games, Perrie predicted that there would be a number of proposals made to each of the girls, though she wasn't sure whether they'd accept.

"I don't know if there's any way to explain it," Linda said. "I guess you just know when you know."

"Bells will go off inside your head," Mary Ellen said. "You'll feel all tingly and shaky and you'll see stars. Angels will sing."

Allison groaned. "That only happens in the movies, silly. The way I see it, it's possible to love almost any man, if you really want to."

"You mean if he's handsome enough, he doesn't wipe his nose on his sleeve, and he has enough money to keep you happy?" Linda asked.

Allison grinned. "That sums it up quite nicely."

"But there must be more," Perrie said. "I can't believe so many people in this world have fallen in love and they haven't written these things down somewhere."

"Is this for the story," Linda asked, "or are you interested for personal reasons?"

"For the story," Perrie lied, but she could tell Linda saw right through her. "All right. I may need the information in order to evaluate my growing feelings toward an… acquaintance."

"Hawk or Joe?" Allison asked. "And if you say Burdy, I'm going to scream."

"It's Joe. Although both Hawk and Burdy have been perfect gentlemen, sweet and accommodating, I seem to find myself attracted to the resident scoundrel. The man has dated every single woman in Alaska, he delights in making my life miserable, and he has absolutely no concern for my career." Perrie paused to reconsider what she was about to say. "And I think that-against all common sense-I might be in love with him."

They had spent nearly every minute together since their night with the northern lights. By day, he would take her to all his special places in and around Muleshoe. And in the evenings, they would sit in front of the fireplace in her cabin and talk. She would work on her stories and he would read them.

And later, as night closed in around them, they would kiss and touch. Although she'd been certain that they would become lovers, Joe had been careful not to push them forward too fast Just when it seemed there would be nothing else to do but make love, Joe would smile sweetly and kiss her good-night, leaving her to wonder why he insisted on waiting.

Mary Ellen clapped her hands in delight, snapping her back to reality. "Oh, that's so sweet! It's like destiny, isn't it? Like that old film with Gary Grant and that French actress. Only they met on a tropical island and this is Alaska. And he wasn't a pilot. But it was so romantic."

"Does he feel the same way about you?" Linda asked.

"I don't know," Perrie replied. "To be honest, I'm not real familiar with all of this. I mean, I've never been in love before. And I don't think any man has ever been in love with me. I've had relationships, but they've never made me feel this way."

"Joe Brennan is definitely a good catch," Allison said. "He's got a successful business, he's handsome, and I bet he kisses like a dream."

Perrie sighed. "Yeah, like a dream."

"What makes you think you're in love with him?" Linda asked.

"At first, I wasn't sure. But then, after I thought about it, I realized it was something really silly. That's why I wanted to ask you."

"It's his eyes, isn't it?" Allison asked. "He's got those incredible blue eyes."

"I bet it's because he's a pilot," Mary Ellen ventured. "Pilots are so dashing and brave."

"It's because he likes the way I write."

The three women stared at Perrie, a trio of confused expressions directed her way.

"I-I wrote this story about a family of wolves that he took me to see. And I combined it with a story about a family living in the bush. I didn't think it was anything special, but Joe thought it was. And now he takes me to ail these special places and he asks me to write stories about them. And then we… read them together."

"That's it?" Allison asked.

"No, not completely. I've always worked hard at my job, but no matter what I accomplished, it never seemed to be enough. There was always this vague ambition that I had to satisfy, another goal just out of my reach. But when Joe says that he likes my stories, that's enough. That's all I really need. Suddenly a Pulitzer doesn't seem to matter anymore."

"He respects you," Linda said. "And he's proud of you. That's a wonderful thing."

Perrie smiled. "It is, isn't it? It's so strange, but I feel as long as he believes in me, that's enough." She ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. "At least, I think it is. How am I supposed to know? I've been away from my work for so long, I can't be sure. Maybe I don't love him at all. Maybe I'm just bored and he's a convenient distraction."

"You don't have to decide right away," Linda said. "You've got time."

"But I don't!" Perrie cried. "Sooner or later, I have to go home. I have a career to think about, and if I stay away much longer, I won't want to go back. What if I stay and then I find out I'm really not in love? Or what if I go back home and realize that I am?"

Mary Ellen reached over and patted Perrie's hand. "There, there, don't get so upset. I think you should follow your heart. When the time comes to decide, you'll know."

"She's right," Linda said. "Listen to your heart. Don't analyze this like one of your newspaper stories. Don't try to look for all the facts and figures. Just let it happen the way it happens."

Perrie nodded, then stood up. "All right, that's what I'll do. I'll listen to my heart." She walked over and grabbed her parka, then pulled it on. "I can listen to my heart. By the way, are there any new developments on the romance front for you three?"

"I've been seeing Luther Paulson," Linda said. "He's a really sweet man. So gentle and caring."

"George Koslowski has invited me to his place to watch movies tonight," Mary Ellen said. "He's got Roman Holiday on tape. Any man who loves Audrey Hepburn can't be all bad."

"And I've decided to pursue Paddy Doyle," Allison finished. "He's still a young man and he's got a successful business. He's handsome in a burly sort of way. And he's been widowed for two years. That's long enough."

Perrie nodded distractedly, her thoughts still on Joe Brennan. "That's nice," she murmured as she walked to the door. "I'll see you all at the games tomorrow."

She needed to be alone with her thoughts. As she walked down the main street of Muleshoe, she contemplated everything that the brides had said, and all that she'd told them. Now that she'd actually put words to her feelings, they didn't seem so confusing.

She was in love with Joe Brennan. And that was all she needed to know for now.

The sun gleamed off the snow, the reflection so bright that Joe had to shade his eyes to see beyond the lodge. In the distance, Perrie methodically split wood in front of the shed. Hawk had provided her with plenty of logs and a newly sharpened ax and she worked at the task with a single-minded intensity.

He had to admire her tenacity, even if he didn't approve of her purpose. Though she'd come a long way with her wilderness skills, he hadn't the heart to tell her that she probably couldn't win. Besides the three brides, there were four other single women who had lived in the area for years who coveted a weekend at the Hot Springs, all with finely honed talents.

Even if Perrie did manage to emerge victorious, he was still determined to protect her safety. The organizers of the Muleshoe Games had approached him about providing the air travel to Cooper and he'd accepted. Perrie was in for a surprise if she thought she'd make a clean getaway. If she went to Cooper, he'd go along. And he'd make sure that once they got there, she wouldn't want to leave the room.

Over the past few days, they'd connected in a way so unexpected that he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Every minute they spent together had brought them closer and closer. And now, he could barely imagine a day without her.

They had become friends, and soon they would become lovers. Every night, he had wanted to stay with her, to continue their sensual explorations. But as soon as he touched her in such intimate ways, he knew he was lost. The only way to halt the inevitable was to leave.

She wouldn't be like the others. When it finally happened between them, it would be something very special. And it would happen. Cold showers and pure thoughts could take him only so far. Sooner or later, his resolve would crumble and he'd give way to the desire that seemed to fill him every time he looked into her eyes.

Joe took another sip of his coffee, then tossed the rest over the porch railing and headed into the lodge. Julia was busy dusting the great room and she smiled as he walked through to the kitchen.

He filled his empty mug from the freshly brewed pot, glancing at the mess that Sammy had spread across the kitchen table. The little boy was so wrapped up in his own activities that he barely noticed Joe's presence.

"What are you up to, buddy?"

Sam chewed on his lower lip as he carefully wielded scissors on a large piece of construction paper. "I'm makin' a valentine for my mom."

Joe frowned. "Aren't you starting a little early?"

"Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I already made one for Perrie a few days ago. I put it under her door."

"Valentine's Day is tomorrow?"

"I bet you didn't get Perrie a present, did you?" Sam asked.

"I guess I didn't think of it."

"She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Joe considered the boy's question for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess she is. At least, I want her to be."

"Then you better show her how much you like her."

Joe sighed. It was already too late to get her a gift. Flowers weren't an option in the dead of winter, and with all the bachelors in town angling for the brides' good graces, he suspected that Weller's General Store would be sold out of anything resembling a romantic gift.

He needed something to show Perrie that he no longer thought of her as just a guest or an acquaintance or a constant intrusion in his life. That he'd found a place for her in his heart. That he cared for her more than any other woman he'd known.

"Maybe you could make me a valentine for Perrie?"

Sam sent him a sideways glance, then shook his head. "That wouldn't be right. You need to make it yourself. My mom says that if you make a gift yourself, that means it's from the heart."

Joe sat down next to Sam and picked up a paper doily. "Where do I start?"

Sam handed him scissors and a piece of construction paper. "Make a heart. Just fold it in half and cut it out. Then paste it on a doily. Girls like doilies."

"How do you know?"

Sam held one up and studied it. "It looks like ruffles and lace. Girls like that stuff. And they like glitter and these little round sparklies."

"Sequins?"

Sam nodded and pointed to the bottle of glue. "Paste 'em on with that."

Joe watched Sam put together his valentine and then began to work on his own. He hadn't touched paper and glue since he left grade school. The glue seemed to stick to everything, and before too long, he had sequins stuck to his palms and glitter under his fingernails.

"What are you going to write on it?" Sam asked, carefully observing Joe's progress.

"I thought I'd sign my name."

Sam slowly shook his head. "You gotta write something sweet and mushy. Or make up a poem. Girls like poetry."

"I'm not good at poetry."

"Then you have to tell her how beautiful she is. Say her skin is like rose petals or her lips taste like cherry soda."

Joe blinked in surprise. "That's pretty good. Can I use that?"

"You should think of something on your own. What do you want to say to her?"

Joe wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how much he loved to be with her. He wanted to ask her to spend the night with him. But he couldn't put that on a valentine. "How about if I ask her to go to the dance at Doyle's?"

"That's good," Sam replied. "Girls like dancing."

"I'm going to have to remember these tips. Girls like doilies, sequins, poetry and dancing." Joe finished the valentine, then took a few moments to compose his message before he stepped to the kitchen sink to wash the glitter off his hands.

"Are you gonna give it to her now?"

"I thought I would. She's out practicing her wood splitting."

Sammy picked up his valentine and held it out in front of him. "Just remember," he said distractedly, "if she tries to kiss you, run away as fast as you can."

Joe wasn't about to follow that bit of Sam's advice. If Perrie did decide to kiss him, he'd probably drag her into the cabin and begin where they had left off the night before. He grabbed his valentine from the table and tucked it inside his jacket, then ruffled Sam's hair as he walked past. "Thanks for the help, buddy."

Joe found Perrie back at her cabin. She sat on the porch, her attention centered on adjusting the straps on her snowshoes. "How's the training going?"

She glanced up and he thought he detected a blush rise on her already rosy cheeks. Her smile warmed his blood and he bent down and kissed her mouth. Strange how kissing her felt so natural, how he barely had to think before he pressed his lips to hers.

"I can't seem to get this strap right."

"Here, let me see." He took the snowshoe from her and carefully readjusted the strap. "How's that?"

"Why are you doing this? I thought you'd be the last person to help me."

"If you're going to compete, you should do your best."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes," Joe said, knowing the truth in his words. "I'd like to see you leave all those wimpy brides in the dust."

Her green eyes sparkled with surprise. "I'm getting really good at the wood splitting. I'm still a little shaky on the snowshoes, but I think, with Hawk's dog team, I've got the mushing competition sewn up."

"Did you know there's a dance at Doyle's after the games are over?"

She sent him a curious glance, the corners of her mouth quirking up. "I heard something about that."

Joe withdrew the valentine from his jacket and held it out to her. He didn't know what to say. To tell the truth, he felt a little silly handing her a handmade card. But all his reservations dissolved at the tender smile she gave him. He said a silent thank-you for Sam's advice, then sat down beside her on the steps.

"You made this yourself?"

"With some advice from Sam. He told me not to let you kiss me."

Perrie laughed. "You're taking your cues from a nine-year-old?"

Joe bumped against her shoulder playfully. "So, will you go to the dance with me, Kincaid?"

"Only if you kiss me again," Perrie teased.

He leaned closer, their noses nearly touching. "I think that could be arranged."

He kissed her then, a soft, simple kiss. He didn't know such an innocent act could bring such a powerful reaction. Desire flooded his senses and every thought dissolved in his mind until all he was conscious of was the feel of her lips on his. Her mouth was so sweet; he had become addicted to the taste, needing more and more.

Then she drew back, her gaze fixed on his mouth. "I'll go to the party at Doyle's with you," she murmured.

"Good," Joe said. He pushed to his feet, then brushed the snow from the back of his jeans. "I guess I'll see you after the competition."

"We aren't going to see each other tonight?"

He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm. "Sweetheart, I think you better get some rest tonight."

"All right," Perrie said. "It's a date. I'll see you tomorrow."

Joe shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and nodded. "Yeah, a date. I'll come down tomorrow morning and get you. We'll ride into Muleshoe together."

"That would be nice," Perrie said.

He whistled a cheery tune as he walked back down the path to the lodge. He'd never really set much store in romance. But he had to admit that a handmade valentine had touched Perrie's heart. His mind flashed an image of her reaction and he smiled to himself.

He was through with waiting. The next time he touched Perrie Kincaid, he wouldn't stop until every desire, every secret fantasy they shared had been completely satisfied.