Braving heights and bitter memories, Jolie had trekked into the untamed territory of Alaska’s forbidding mountain—and also into David’s life. The peace she’d come to make wasn’t the peace she’d found. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d found any peace at all.
Having become sick—poisoned—she hadn’t reached the summit. Hadn’t conquered what had defeated Gael. And in being sick, she’d encountered yet another forbidding element—David Whiteeagle’s heart.
She wasn’t sure which hurt more.
“How are you feeling?” Logan’s voice rose above the wind tugging on their tent.
Pulled from her thoughts, Jolie searched her body. “I …” She hadn’t felt the urge to retch in hours—not since David had given her his bottle and disappeared. “Better. A lot better, actually.”
Logan nodded. “Good. Keep hydrating.”
Obediently, she took another swig. “Don’t you think we should check on David?”
“If he doesn’t have enough sense to come out of the cold …” He snickered. “I’ll give him ten more minutes.”
“He’s been out there awhile.”
With a smirk, Logan gave another nod. “He’s a ranger, Jolie. And no matter how ticked he is, he won’t get stupid.”
The tent flap zipped up.
Jolie’s heart leapt at the thought of David returning— though she wanted to cram his hurtful words down his throat. “Da—”
Logan lunged at her. “Get down!” He barreled into her.
Face colliding with the nylon tent bottom and the hardened ground beneath, Jolie hauled in a breath.
A crack resounded, distant yet close.
Thud!
Smothering, the tent collapsed, wrapping Jolie and Logan in its cocoon. A weight dropped on them. Wrestling. Writhing.
She peered over her shoulder but saw only orange-and-white material.
“Stay down,” Logan shouted as he pinned her.
Frenetic and hard movements continued. A fight. Another loud pop ensued. A dark color ballooned over the tent, widening slowly and … dripping.
“Blood!” Jolie whispered.
“That way,” Logan said, pointing to a small opening. “Go!”
Wrangling her legs free, Jolie crawled into the raging storm. Wind yanked at her jacket and limbs, her hair loose beneath her hat. They scrambled into the tangle of rocks that had acted as a partial barrier between the tent and the storm. She climbed up and glanced back.
David threw a hard punch into the face of—
Jolie froze.
Aidan Sheppard.
Face contorted in rage, Aidan twisted—and produced a gun. He aimed it at David.
“No!” Jolie’s shout sailed through a lull in the wind.
Aidan jerked. Redirected his aim.
Directly at her.
Her pulse shallowed out. Her legs grew leaden.
Something pushed at her.
But all she could see, all that impacted her, was the guy she had almost considered a brother.
Behind him, a flash of movement, David dove at him, arms wrapping around Aidan and shoving him into the snow.
They wrestled again. Threw punches.
Jolie couldn’t watch. Blood marred the pristine white snow. “He’s going to kill him.”
“Stay here.” Logan worked his way back to them, leaving her alone.
How had Aidan gotten away from the others? What about Derrick and James?
In the fight, Aidan broke free. Amid the tent, the broken ice chunks and debris, Jolie searched for David and Logan. The tent writhed, with them in it.
Aidan! Where’d he go? She scooted down a half-dozen feet, searching the rugged outcropping. “Aidan!” He wasn’t going to get away with this, with trying to kill her. A realization shoved her forward. He killed her father! “Aidan!” No, he would not.
She rounded a bend and stopped short. Pulled back to use the rock face as a shield.
Skis on, Aidan stood smiling at her down the barrel of his gun. “You nearly got away.”
“So did you.”
His smile faltered. “Ah, but see? I will get away.”
“Why? Why do you want me dead?”
His face went grim. “Your father …” He bunched his lips. “My father worked his rear end off for twenty years … and your father gives the whole kingdom to you! You, a twenty-three-year-old spoiled rich girl. My father deserved to be made CEO, not you!”
“You’re right. You’re right—I even asked Baron why I’d been put in charge.”
Aidan hesitated and hope surged that he’d give up this quest to wrest power at D. I. from her fingers—her dead fingers.
“Well, nobody will have to worry now. My father will be named CEO—right after your funeral.”
“Jolie!” David’s shout thudded into her.
She turned just in time to see a puff of smoke at the end of Aidan’s handgun. In the space of an eyeblink, the wall beside her erupted.
So did the mountain—a resounding crack boomed above.
Aidan’s gaze rose. His eyes widened.
“Jolie, get back!” David’s words pushed her a step back, just in time to see a blanket of white whoosh over the lip and hurl itself at Aidan.
A weight shoved into her from the side. Threw her backward. Her head rammed into something. The world went black.
Adrenaline still poured through his veins as he stared at her unconscious form. A red knot above her temple glistened beneath the rising sun.
David knelt beside Jolie as she lay unconscious against the rocks. Her head had hit the boulder, but she was alive. The avalanche that had swept over the gunman also opened a crevasse that swallowed him.
Though Logan went to check if they could rescue Aidan, David knew the chances were slim to none. The area was unstable after the snowdrift and with the crevasse …
“Jolie?” He touched the side of her face with his gloved hand.
A moan worked its way up her throat as she shifted.
“Jolie, you okay?”
Her eyes blinked open and he couldn’t help the smile.
Then she shot up and groaned, hand going to her forehead. “Aidan.”
“Logan’s looking for him.”
She looked around. “The avalanche … How did we not …?”
David eyed the ledge above. “You were far enough under for protection.” He sat back on his haunches. “Let’s worry about you, getting you off my mountain.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Your mountain?” She sat up with a small grunt then allowed him to pull her upright.
“It’s as mean as I am.”
“You got that right.”
The words dented his hope that they could start over like she’d said—well, she’d said that before he got stupid and mouthy. “I deserved that.”
Jolie hesitated, her honey eyes on him, which made each beat of his pulse feel like a jackhammer. “Wow.” Her lips almost quirked into that. “So … guess that makes you a spoiled mountain boy.”
David grinned. “Only if that’s what you like.”
Again, Jolie stilled. “Did you get hit on the head, too?”
The laugh felt freeing. “I guess you could say that.”
“David,” Logan called as he worked his way back to them. “It’s no good.” He squinted against the glare of the sun on the snow. “It’s a mess. I can’t see anything and can’t get down. It’s too unstable.”
“Expected as much.” Though he roiled at the thought of leaving someone down there, he didn’t have the equipment to dig. And with—
“David!” Jolie gasped. “You’re shot!”
He winced. “Yeah, it’s not bad.” Actually, it was. Pain radiated through his shoulder but at least the blood wasn’t gushing. He’d packed it with snow and stemmed the flow before rushing to Jolie.
“Not bad? You’re shot!” Jolie repeated.
“Jo.” David turned to her and cupped her face. “I’ll be okay. Our priority is getting you to the hospital to make sure whatever he put in that drink didn’t do anything permanent. Okay?”
“You called me Jo.”
Did he? He hadn’t really noticed.
“My dad used to call me that.”
Im … sorry.
She gripped the sides of his jacket. “No, I like it.”
David homed in on her mouth. Bent closer—
Logan cleared his throat.
Heat bolted through David. Embarrassment and agitation. He glowered at Logan.
“Sorry.” But Logan wasn’t really. “You’ve got a bleeding gunshot wound, she’s been poisoned, and for some bizarre reason, the storm has given us an opening to get out of here. We need to move.” He glanced at both of them. “Now.”
After gearing up, they did a radio check and made contact with Maggie, reporting they were on their way down. They roped up with Logan in the lead, Jolie behind, then David bringing up the rear.
The four-hour hike to Base Camp took the last vestiges of David’s strength. Each step felt heavier and more painful than the previous. A couple of times the rope pulled taut, alerting him to the fact that he’d dropped behind. He’d shuffled forward on his skis and pushed himself a little harder as they crossed the glacier back toward Base Camp.
Up the last pass, he saw the Otter waiting, along with three rangers and the ranger doctor. Thank the merciful Lord!
David unroped, dropped to his knees even as feet hurried around him. Ferried to the plane, David didn’t want to look at Jolie. Didn’t want her to see him weak, nor did he want her pity or fear. He’d be fine.
The forty-minute trip lumbered until David could not fight the fatigue any longer and gave in to its powerful embrace.
Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, Jolie stared out the window at her beloved Alaska. Though she hadn’t been born here, she’d lived 80 percent of her life here. And she loved it. Especially since it had David Whiteeagle.
Who hadn’t come to visit her in the two days since they’d been delivered to the hospital, even though he’d been released yesterday.
“Now, dear,” her mother said, moving around the room, gathering belongings. “You get dressed because I am going to find that doctor and get you released to Dr. Hanley’s care.”
“I’m fine here, Mom. They’ve taken good care of me.”
“You have frostbite—you were poisoned!” The injuries had mortified her mom.
“Neither of which are the fault of the doctors here. I’m fine. Really.” And not ready to leave. Not yet. Not till …
“Nonsense. There are far better doctors in Fairbanks than out here in the middle of nowhere.” Her mother lifted her purse and started for the door, tugging hard to open it. “Get ready. I’ll be back soon.”
Jolie pushed off the bed, her feet snug in the silly pink thermal socks the doctors insisted she keep. She shuffled to the window and peered out at Mt. McKinley, remembering David. His raw power. His anger. That drastic change in him right before Aidan—
Jolie tipped her head, touching her fingers to her forehead. She’d thought of him as a brother. And he’d wanted to kill her. Because her father believed in her, believed she had the wherewithal to run the company.
The door whooshed behind her followed by a soft thud.
“Sorry, dear. I left my ID in here when I called the insurance company a while ago.” Her mother retrieved it. “Baron called from the parking lot. He’s on his way up.”
“Mom, you haven’t told me—did they find Aidan?”
Her mother’s face fell. “I guess I can’t hide it from you. Yes, they found him. His neck … it was broken. He died instantly.”
Jolie trembled. “I’m glad he didn’t suffer….”
“You have a bigger heart than me because I wanted him to suffer for what he did to you.” Her mother shuddered. “And your father. Police went through his things and his father cooperated. They’ve found chemicals in Aidan’s room. And e-mail exchanges with someone named Rameau, who apparently masterminded your father’s accident.”
Jolie turned away, choked by the news.
“Ah, Baron, so glad you could join us.”
In the glass reflection, Jolie saw Baron’s ghostly image. She turned back and offered him a halfhearted smile.
“The nurse said she was ready for you.”
“Oh. Yes. Thank you. I’ll be right back, Jolie.”
Alone with Baron, Jolie braced herself, once again tracing the mountains with her gaze. “Did you bring them, Baron?”
“I did.”
She turned and retrieved a pen from the table where her mother had scribbled notes from the insurance company. “Then let’s do this.”
David slunk through the halls, hating hospitals, hating the smells, hating the false hope that lurked there. Though his shoulder still ached, his heart hurt more. After they’d stitched him up, he’d headed home. Sat in his room thinking and praying.
Somehow, he ended up at the hospital. On the fourth floor.
Standing in front of room 4218.
He swallowed hard then reached—
The door swung open.
A man in his late forties exited, a file in hand and a frown on his face. He scowled at David, who moved past the door, nerves jangled.
No, he wasn’t going to be deterred. He turned back and slipped into the room.
His breath caught as he eased the door to. Jolie stood at the window in dark jeans and a soft white sweater. Her white-blond hair cascaded down her back.
Oh man. How had he ever convinced himself she would want him? She was out of his league.
“Your ears are still too little.” Jolie’s voice coiled around his heart as she peeked over her shoulder at him, those golden brown eyes melting his cold heart.
“And your mouth is still too big.” He grinned, drawn in once again by her feistiness. Stretching his neck beneath the arm sling, he crossed the room as she turned to him. “Who was that guy?”
“Baron Schmidt, D. I.’s new CEO.”
David hesitated. Yeah … she would go back to her people, to her father’s business and leave him. “Right.”
She burrowed into her folded arms. “I signed over control to him.”
If she’d punched him in the gut, she wouldn’t have surprised him more. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense. You’d give up …” His mind chugged to a stop. “Everything.” What … what did this mean?
Jolie gave a slow, crooked nod. “I’m going to be the new COO, office out of another location, and remain on the board.”
David scratched the back of his head. “What does this mean? Why?” He blinked and looked at her. “Wait—another location? You’re leaving?”
“I knew you were smart,” she said, throwing his words from the mountain right back at him. She seemed amused. “I don’t belong in Anchorage.” She seemed amused as she nodded at him. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Healing.” Who cared about his shoulder after what she just said. He stood a few feet back, nervous, his mind grinding on the gears of her words. “So, you’re leaving.”
She gave a quiet snort and shot him a look.
“Leaving Anchorage? Or Alaska?” He wasn’t sure he could handle the latter.
But she didn’t answer. Just watched him. Frowning.
Was she mad? Did she want him to leave? “What’s … happening here, Jo?”
“Oh, David …”
She was in his arms before he could think twice. He wrapped her tight, burying his face in her neck. She smelled exotic yet sweet. Her arm around his shoulders and holding the back of his head proved intoxicating. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again,” she whispered.
Her face was warm beneath his touch as he brushed a few strands back. “I wasn’t sure myself.”
“What convinced you?”
He stepped back, relinquishing her. “This.” He lifted the small box from his pocket.
She paled and drew back.
“It’s not a ring,” he added quickly as he held it out. “At least … not yet. Maybe.”
She opened the box then her wide eyes came to him. As if she didn’t know what it was.
“It’s a—”
She gasped. Melt-his-soul eyes rose to his. “Tabula rasa.”
David grinned. “A clean slate.”
She lifted it from the box and put it on, fingering the tiny chalkboard charm that hung below the hollow of her throat. “It’s beautiful.”
He tucked a strand of her hair back then slid his hand behind her neck. “No, you’re beautiful.” David slid his other hand around her waist and tugged her closer. “I’m sorry for unleashing my anger on you, for lashing out at you. I want that clean start you offered on the High One.”
“Me, too.”
He eased into a kiss that held the promise of a clean slate and love’s daring heights.