Page 9 of Driving Him Wild

I didn’t smile back. I was a Mortimer after all. And as with most individuals with nine or more

zeros attached to their bank balances, I’d been at the receiving end of a few security scares. I couldn’t afford to be blasé about it, even in an icy wilderness like Alaska. ‘Should he be?’ I tossed at him.

Every trace of humour vanished. ‘I won’t let any harm come to you. You have my word.’

For a taut stretch our gazes locked, unspoken words arcing between us. ‘Instruct the crew,’ I told

Larry without taking my eyes off Jensen. ‘No need to freeze here if you don’t have to. Tell Elsa to pack me a change of clothes and get going. I’ll check in tonight.’

He knew better than to argue with me. Barely ten minutes later the small camp was all packed up

and aboard the helicopters.

The apprehension I should’ve felt at being alone with this...captivating stranger was curiously

absent as I watched my crew leave. Behind me, Jensen stashed my bag under the tarp covering the

trailer then approached. I didn’t look his way as he stopped next to me.

‘I spotted a mother bear and her cubs feeding about half an hour from here near a broken ice floe.

We can start there if you want?’

I shifted my gaze from watching the choppers turn into dark specks in the sky. ‘You’ve had that

information since you got here and chose not to share it?’

He shrugged, drawing my attention to one broad shoulder. ‘It wouldn’t have helped if you hadn’t

been inclined to see things my way. In the time it would’ve taken to gather your crew to get there, they’d have been gone.’

Neat answer while delivering the punch he no doubt intended to. ‘You don’t think very highly of

me, do you?’ There was a distinct sting to that knowledge, one quite different from the dull throb of pain I’d experienced over decades of holding my emotions inside.

‘I don’t know you. I’m only going on what I’ve seen so far.’

‘Are you? Then why do I get the impression you’ve already made up your mind about me? Is it

perhaps because you believe youknowme despite us having only just met?’

‘Are you accusing me of something, Miss Mortimer?’

I studied the profile he insisted on presenting to me. There was a tightness around his mouth and

jaw that spoke to more than the face-value conversation taking place. ‘Yes, I am.’

His delicious lips pursed for a second. Then he exhaled. ‘The dogs are rested; we can probably

make it in time if we leave now.’

‘Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m accusing you of?’

His gaze finally turned my way, and the endless depth of icy emotion swimming within nearly made

me sway. ‘No. My statement goes both ways. You don’t know me either, so whatever you think of me

is most likely flawed.’

---