Manhunt Page 5

  Casey looked at the sky. “This isn’t a good time to be independent. It’s going to rain.”

  “I like rain. Go away.”

  Casey’s mouth tightened at her determination. She was impossible. She made him nuts. It would serve her right if she got eaten by a bear. He’d give her until nine o’clock, then… And then he didn’t know what he’d do!

  He got into his truck and drove off, crushing the highbush cranberries and pine saplings under its oversized wheels.

  A drop of rain fell on Alex’s nose. Great. She didn’t need rain. What she did need was to soak in a hot tub. She needed to slip a Fred Astaire movie into the DVD player and relax on a comfy couch. She needed to strangle Harry. She thought of The Wizard of Oz and how water had melted the Wicked Witch of the West. That’s how she felt, like the Wicked Witch of the West, and the rain was making her cranky and melting all her good intentions.

  “Damn! Ugh!” She viciously kicked at the tent, knocking loose a stake. The tent gave a shudder and collapsed with a sigh. Oh, boy, she thought, now she’d really done it. She didn’t have a clue how to get the tent back together. But that was fine, she wasn’t crazy about it anyway.

  “Good thing we have a cabin,” she told Bruno. She fished inside the tent until she found her sleeping bag. “This will be great. Our first night in our new home.” Bruno stopped at the threshold and refused to go in. Alex stood in the middle of the little house and gasped. Casey was right—the cabin reeked of insecticide.

  “Okay,” she said, stomping outside, “we’ll sleep under the stars.” More rain plopped on her forehead and softly pattered on the tin roof. Bruno wrinkled his nose in disgust, turned his back on his mistress, and trotted along the path leading to Casey’s house.

  “Traitor. Dumb, stupid, fat dog,” Alex shouted after him. She looked at the soggy tent. Rain dripped off the tip of her nose. Who was she kidding? The dog was smarter than she.

  Minutes later, Alex stood on Casey’s deck in silent resignation. Not only was she forced to humiliate herself by begging for his help after she had refused his hospitality, but she was disgusting. Her sneakers squished when she walked. She had fallen twice on the slippery, muddy path and skinned her knee. Her hair was plastered against her face and neck in dark ringlets, and her drenched green silk shirt clung to her like a second skin.

  Alex gazed through the patio door at Casey and Bruno watching TV in front of a cozy fire. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and rapped on the glass.

  “Well, if it isn’t Alexandra Scott,” Casey exclaimed in mock surprise. His gaze dropped to the bloody knee, and the color drained from his face. “Ye gods, woman, what happened to you?”

  “I accidentally collapsed my dumb tent, then I fell on your dumb trail.”

  “I never should have left you down there alone.” He pulled her into the house and closed the door. “How bad is your knee?”

  Alex narrowed her eyes at the scolding tone of his voice. “I would have been fine if it hadn’t been for a bizarre series of minor catastrophes.”

  Casey scooped her into his arms and held her tight against his chest as he carried her into the bathroom. “I don’t know what your life was like in New Jersey, but it seems to me ever since you set foot on Alaskan soil you’ve been a walking disaster. And now look what you’ve done to your knee. With my luck it’s probably broken, and I’ll have you thumping around my house in a cast for nine months.”

  “It’s not broken. It’s only a scratch, and even if it was broken, I wouldn’t thump around in your house. I didn’t come all these miles to waste my time living with a man who doesn’t want to get married.” She tried to push away from him. “Put me down!”

  He tightened his grip on her. “Stop squirming.”

  “It’s not necessary for you to carry me. I’m fine.”

  Casey stopped in midstride and looked at her. “You really don’t want to be carried?”

  “Yes. No.” Now that she thought about it, it was pretty nice being carried. He was strong and muscular and warm.

  She put her hand to his shirt. “I can feel your heart beating.”

  “My heart is not beating. My heart is racing. You make me crazy.”

  He set her on the bathroom vanity top and examined her knee through the gaping hole in her jeans. “I feel like an idiot. Twenty-four hours ago I was a perfectly contented bachelor, and now…” He reached behind him and turned on the shower. “Now I don’t know what I am!”

  “It’s probably just a testosterone attack.”

  “Lady, I’ve had testosterone attacks before. This is testosterone war.”

  Alex shivered and clenched her teeth to keep from chattering. “Ccccold.”

  Casey removed her sneakers and pitched them into the corner of the bathroom. “Go stand in the shower until you’re warm and wrinkled. I’ll make some coffee.” His eyes softened as he looked down at her. “Don’t suppose you’d want me to scrub your back?”

  “I can scrub my own back, thank you. I told you before, you’re all wrong.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips. “Maybe.”

  Alex watched him leave and locked the door behind him. Maybe? What was that supposed to mean? She didn’t like the sound of his maybe, she thought. It sounded too much like maybe not, which was practically the same as not being wrong at all.

  She threw her wet clothes in the corner with her sneakers and climbed into the steamy shower. Her life was going down the drain like this water, she decided. It kept getting worse and worse. Even her dog had abandoned her.

  Alex let the hot water splash against her neck. She lathered the mud away and washed her hair and stood in the shower until she was as red as a lobster. When she was totally relaxed and thoroughly toasty she wrapped herself in a huge fluffy white towel and pondered her predicament. She had no clothes. Casey was in the kitchen, brewing coffee and warming his libido, and she was trapped in the bathroom—naked.

  Chapter Four

  Alex clutched the towel to her chest and peeked around the bathroom door. “Casey?” she called. No answer. She made sure the towel was wrapped as securely as possible and cautiously made her way to the kitchen.

  Casey grinned when he saw her. He put the lid on the coffeepot and inspected her from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. She reminded him of pink-frosted birthday cake— sweet, tempting, and totally edible. “You look pretty,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not hiding all that rosy skin under clothes.”

  “I seem to be in an embarrassing situation here. My clothes are all wet.”

  Casey set a bag of cookies and two mugs of coffee on the coffee table. He took a soft blue blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Alex.

  “Now you can drop your towel, and you’ll be modestly and warmly clad in this nifty blanket. As soon as we’re done with our cookies and coffee, I’ll slog my way down to your tent for some clothes. Deal?”

  “Deal.” She dropped the towel and immediately knew she had made a mistake. The lightly abrasive blanket fell in caressing folds on skin sensitized by the hot shower.

  Casey grinned at her. “Feel better?”

  She was going to get him for this, she decided. He knew exactly how she felt. This was probably how he tricked that poor girl out of her black silk teddy. She tentatively perched on the edge of the couch and nibbled at a cookie. “It’s not going to work.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope. My mind is made up about what I want, and I’m not going to compromise.” She sipped her coffee and took another cookie.

  Casey slouched into a corner of the couch and looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug. “I have to be honest—I’m very attracted to you. Half of me wants to seduce that blanket off you, and the other half is making me feel guilty as hell because I have no intention of marrying you.”

  “Listen to the half that feels guilty. The other half wouldn’t have any luck anyway. I told you before, you’re not what I’m looking for. I want someone extremely stable, someone
who loves children, someone with small appetites and some common sense in his genes.”

  “That sure as hell leaves me out. I’ve been having problems with my jeans ever since I met you, and damned if I can find any sense in it.” He swallowed the last of his coffee and stood up, feeling impatient and irritable. Someone with small appetites, he thought disgustedly. Didn’t she know anything at all about herself? Anyone with half a brain could see she was not a woman with small appetites. What did she think she was going to do with an indifferent man? She’d go nuts. And she’d probably turn him into a raving lunatic.

  “Are we talking about the same kind of genes?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I could think a lot more clearly if you weren’t wearing that blanket.”

  “This blanket was your idea.”

  “Yeah, and it was a stupid one.” He crossed the room and grabbed a yellow slicker from a hook on the wall. “I’m going to get your clothes.”

  Alex curled her feet under her and stared into the crackling fire. Casey was very tempting. He was movie-star handsome, and he oozed sexuality. The thought of going to bed with him almost took her breath away. But she hadn’t traveled five thousand miles for a roll in the hay, she reminded herself. She was a woman who set high goals and worked hard to attain them. She’d gotten her vice presidency because she’d aggressively pursued it, and she’d get the husband she wanted the same way.

  The fire hissed hypnotically in the quiet house, and rain drummed on the roof. Alex stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes, allowing herself a few minutes of rest before Casey returned.

  Alex opened her eyes to the morning aroma of bacon frying and coffee brewing. She was still on the couch, and she was still wrapped in the blue blanket, but a down comforter had been tucked in around her, and a pillow had been put under her head. She propped herself up on one elbow to get a better view of Casey working in the kitchen.

  He moved quietly in stockinged feet and whispered to Bruno as he worked. “Just one piece of bacon for you, Bruno, and don’t tell your mistress. You should be on a diet.”

  Alex clutched the blanket to her and walked toward the kitchen. “I heard that. You’re sweet, but devious.” She unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile when she saw Casey wearing an apron.

  He raised an eyebrow at the smile. “Are you laughing at my apron?”

  Alex bit her lip.

  “Go ahead and laugh. You look like you’re ready to rupture something.”

  “It just caught me by surprise,” Alex said, grinning broadly.

  Casey poked at the bacon with a long fork. “I’m a real threat in the kitchen. Last time I cooked bacon, I set my pants on fire. I figured an apron was easier to get off just in case I went up in flames again.”

  “Goodness. Hope you didn’t damage anything important.”

  Casey laughed softly. “No, I didn’t damage anything important. And it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”

  Alex took a piece of bacon from the paper towel on the counter. “Just making conversation.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She’d been caught flirting with him. Drat. She tightened the blanket and munched on her bacon slice. “The coffee smells terrific.”

  Casey put the frying pan on a back burner and removed his apron. “You can have some as soon as you get dressed. I don’t think I can manage being a gentleman too much longer, knowing you’re naked under that.”

  “I guess I fell asleep before you got back last night.”

  “Yeah. It’s becoming painfully obvious why you’ve had such limited experience with boyfriends.”

  “Have I just been insulted?”

  “Not only do you instill feelings that discourage casual seduction, but you fall asleep at the drop of a hat.” He gestured with the long fork. “Your backpack is in my bedroom.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes. The nerve of the man insinuating that she wasn’t stimulating company! “It was a long day, and I’m not used to being attacked by rabid mice, and I practically broke my knee—”

  “Scott?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Go get dressed.”

  With an imperial toss of her head, she turned around and headed for the bedroom. She quickly donned a pair of pale gray, lightweight wool slacks and a matching cashmere sweater. She accented the outfit with an orange, black, and gray scarf and slid her feet into a pair of delicate black, lizardskin loafers. She was trying to tame her hair when Casey walked in.

  He stood just behind her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked beautiful, like someone out of a New York fashion magazine—about as un-Alaskan as a person could get. He reached out to touch a chestnut curl and stopped himself. Off limits, he thought. This woman was heartbreak city. He was falling in love with her, and she was going to leave. No one who wore shoes like that stayed in Alaska for very long. So what was the problem? he asked himself. Wasn’t that what he wanted? A little romance without the long-term commitment of marriage and family?

  “You look very pretty,” he finally said. “What were you planning on doing today?”

  “Shopping. I need some household things, and I’m anxious to see my store.”

  Casey looked at her little black shoes and shook his head. “I’ve never known anyone who carried fancy clothes like this in a backpack.”

  “Wool and silk are wonderful for traveling if you roll them properly.” She put her hair back in a big gold clip. “And I got these shoes for half price in Bloomingdale’s. I thought they’d be good for Alaska because they don’t have heels.”

  Casey looked at her nonplussed. She was serious. “Alex,” he said gently, “you live on a mountain in the boonies. Your car is three miles away through the woods.”

  Alex considered the shoes. She had more rugged clothes, but they were coming by mail. She’d been able to fit only a few bare essentials in her small car. “You think I need something more sturdy?”

  “Just a tad.” He slung his arm around her shoulder and propelled her toward the kitchen. “Let’s have breakfast, then I think we’ll go shopping together. Uncle Casey is going to get you properly outfitted.”

  Terrific, Alex thought. His idea of properly outfitted was probably pasties and a garter belt.

  “Stop grinning like that,” Alex said, poking Casey in the ribs.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve never seen a toilet seat done in fake leopard skin before. Feel this thing. It’s furry. This is just what you need for those cold winter nights when you have to make a trip to the outhouse.”

  “Don’t remind me. If I’d known about the outhouse part, I probably would have stayed in New Jersey.”

  Casey took a boxed toilet seat from the display. “Look, it’s a bargain. Only $37.50, reduced from $45.”

  “I don’t have $37.50 to lavish on an endangered species toilet seat. I can get a nice plastic one for $12.”

  “You know what it’s like to sit on a plastic toilet seat at thirty degrees below zero?”

  Alex reached for her wallet. This was getting expensive. Casey was staggering under a burden of bags, most of which were filled with items she hadn’t intended to buy. Long underwear, thick woolen socks, hiking boots that looked as if they were made for Herman Munster, an air horn to scare off bears since she’d refused to buy a gun, and a heavy-duty red-and-black-plaid wool shirt.

  “Tell you what,” Casey said, “I’ll give you this toilet seat as a present. I have to give you something to welcome you to my mountain. It’s an old Alaskan custom.”

  “Oh, ha!”

  “You’re cute when you say that. Do you think anyone would notice if I kissed you?”

  Alex jumped back. “Don’t you come near me.”

  Casey grinned. He liked it when he could rattle her a little and her eyes widened in startled uncertainty. He was beginning to know some of her behavior patterns. The startled uncertainty wouldn’t last long. It would be immediately followed by compressed lips and narrowed eyes in a brief flash of anger as she rega
ined her composure. Alexandra Scott liked being in control.

  “Why don’t you go look at curtains,” Casey said. “I’ll join you as soon as I pay for this.”

  Ten minutes later Casey found Alex in front of a display of ruffled white Martha Washington-style curtains.

  “Cabins are supposed to have curtains like this,” Alex told him. “I know because I read Little House on the Prairie three times. And I watch television. I think they had curtains like this on Bonanza. And besides, these curtains are cheap.”

  “Those curtains will look great with your new comforter.”

  Alex looked at him warily. “I don’t have a new comforter.”

  “Yes, you do.” He pushed a huge bag in her direction. “It’s red. It’s an old Alaskan custom that if you give someone a gift they hate, you also have to give them something nice.”

  “I don’t hate the toilet seat. I think it will be sort of… invigorating.”

  Casey grinned. “The quilt will be even more invigorating.”

  Alex had an involuntary mental picture of Casey cuddling next to her under the red quilt. She felt her face flush hot and smiled guiltily.

  Casey watched the pulse jump in her neck. He laid his hand against her blushing cheek and lightly brushed his thumb across her full lower lip. He was being a real crumb, and he was going to get even crummier, he thought ruefully. He wanted Alex, and he was about to begin a campaign to get what he wanted. His good intentions and virtuous morals paled in comparison to his desire for her.

  Two hours later, Alex grimly smiled at the small cache of furniture and household goods piled into the back of Casey’s pickup. A chest of drawers, a card table, two chairs.

  “A little modest by Princeton standards,” she said, nervously smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her slacks.

  Casey stopped for a light on the two-lane highway connecting Fairbanks and College. “Having regrets?”

  “No. This is scary, but it’s fun. I can’t wait to see my store.”

  “It’s just ahead on the right-hand side.”

  Alex looked, but there were no shopping centers in sight. Scrubby fields bordered either side of the road, the ground being too thin to support the lush vegetation found in the southern part of the state. A clapboard bungalow shored up with scrap metal from jerry cans and pieces of plastic hunkered off the shoulder. Two antique gas pumps stood sentinel on the cracked cement pad in front of the building. A weathered wooden sign advertising live bait had been propped against one of the pumps. Alex drew her dark brows together in confusion. “I don’t see anything that looks like a store.”