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A Very...Pregnant New Year's
Doreen Roberts


FAMILIES FEUD ON NEW YEAR' S EVE… A GIANT AVALANCHE STRIKES… TWO ENEMIES ARE TRAPPED IN A SNOWBOUND CABIN… When fate stranded them together, Anne Parker fought her attraction for roguish Brad Irving. She couldn' t possibly want this scoundrel– her father' s sworn enemy, breaker of hearts. Until… uh-oh! She' d just made love with the one man in the world she shouldn' t have. Yet never in her life had she felt such fierce desire as she felt now for Brad. And soon a baby was on the way… Would their child be raised a Parker or an Irving? Or was this finally the truce they were looking for?









GRAND SPRINGS

POLICE DEPARTMENT


ALL POINTS BULLETIN

All officers on call to search for the following:









Last seen New Year’s Eve on midnight ski run before avalanche hit. Perhaps have taken shelter in isolated cabin in mountains. May also have been injured.

Special note: These two are ARCH ENEMIES, so watch it—sparks may fly. Approach with extreme caution.




Dear Reader,

The year is ending, and as a special holiday gift to you, we’re starting off with a 3-in-1 volume that will have you on the edge of your seat. Special Report, by Merline Lovelace, Maggie Price and Debra Cowan, features three connected stories about a plane hijacking and the three couples who find love in such decidedly unusual circumstances. Read it—you won’t be sorry.

A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Carla Cassidy’s Strangers When We Married, a reunion romance with an irresistible baby and a couple who, I know you’ll agree, truly do belong together. Then spend 36 HOURS with Doreen Roberts and A Very…Pregnant New Year’s. This is one family feud that’s about to end…at the altar!

Virginia Kantra’s back with Mad Dog and Annie, a book that’s every bit as fascinating as its title—which just happens to be one of my all-time favorite titles. I guarantee you’ll enjoy reading about this perfect (though they don’t know it yet) pair. Linda Randall Wisdom is back with Mirror, Mirror, a good twin/bad twin story with some truly unexpected twists—and a fabulous hero. Finally, read about a woman who has Everything But a Husband in Karen Templeton’s newest—and keep the tissue box nearby, because your emotions will really be engaged.

And, of course, be sure to come back next month for six more of the most exciting romances around—right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Enjoy!






Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor




A Very…Pregnant New Year’s

Doreen Roberts







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my husband, Bill. Thank you for giving me a shoulder to cry on, an arm to lean on and a heart to rely on.

I love you.




DOREEN ROBERTS


lives with her husband, who is also her manager and her biggest fan, in the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon. She believes that everyone should have a little adventure now and again to add interest to their lives. She believes in taking risks and has been known to embark on an adventure or two of her own. She is happiest, however, when she is creating stories about the biggest adventure of all—falling in love and learning to live happily ever after.












Contents


Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue




Prologue


“Don’t touch me!” Anne Parker pushed long, wispy strands of hair out of her eyes and glared at the boy towering over her. She was doing her very best not to cry. After all, she was seven years old. Only babies cried. But she sure felt like crying.

She’d landed in a pile of mushy snow and her pants were wet. The other kids in the schoolyard were staring at her. They made her feel stupid. Worse than that, it was Bradley Irving she’d run into, and he made her feel even more stupid.

He looked down at her and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. “I wasn’t going to touch you. You can sit there all afternoon for all I care.”

“It’s all your fault,” she said furiously. “You pushed me down.”

Bradley scowled at her. “It was your fault. You ran into me.”

She frowned back to show him she wasn’t afraid, even though her heart banged against her ribs. Bradley had yellow hair and dark blue eyes, and looked like the fierce Viking in her history book. Quickly she looked down at her knee. It was bleeding and had bits of dirt in it. And it hurt.

Her parents had warned her to stay away from Bradley Irving. They called him a delinquent. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it sounded a lot like that picture of the Viking.

When Anne asked questions about Bradley, her parents always said the same thing. He was an Irving and all the Irvings were trouble. In Anne’s mind that meant Bradley was mean and could hurt her.

Sometimes she found that hard to understand. He had a really nice face, and once she’d seen him smile at another girl. Seeing him like that had made her feel all warm and squishy inside. Still, her parents were always right and they knew best, as her mother was always telling her. After all, Bradley was ten—almost a teenager. Almost grown-up.

“You’d better get that dirt washed out of there,” Bradley said, making her jump. “If you don’t, you’ll have to get your leg cut off.”

His words scared her. Blinking hard, she looked up at him. “You go away, Bradley Irving, and leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. You’re a…a…delinquent!”

His eyes grew darker, and he pushed his chin out, scaring her even more. “And you’re a stuck-up spoiled brat. All the Parkers are stuck-up brats.”

“I’m not a brat, so there!” Helpless to stop the tears spurting from her eyes, Anne scrambled to her feet. “I hate you, Bradley Irving. I hate you.”

“Yeah? Well, I hate you, too, Annie Parker. So that makes us even.”

He spun around and marched away from her with his yellow hair flowing in the wind behind him.

Anne watched him go, feeling really bad inside. She didn’t really hate him. And she really didn’t want him to hate her, either. Confused by feelings she didn’t understand, she pulled in her breath to yell her parting shot. “And my name’s not Annie. It’s Anne—so there!”

The memory of that day haunted Anne throughout her school years. She plagued her mother with endless questions until she’d learned all about the feud between the Irvings and the Parkers. Years ago, Annie May Wilson had left her husband-to-be, Henry Irving, at the altar and had run away to marry John Parker.

Henry Irving had been so angry he’d secretly bought up Parker land and built a spa on it, which made him a wealthy man. The Parkers claimed he’d used a crooked lawyer and had stolen their land. The two families had been fighting over the land ever since.

Anne thought the whole thing terribly romantic, but when she’d said as much to her mother she was forbidden to ever talk about it again. The mere mention of the Irving name, Carol Parker had told her daughter, was enough to give Anne’s father a stroke.

During the long, hot summer Anne prepared to attend Burke Senior High, she kept wondering if she’d bump into Brad Irving. The very first week of her freshman year, she saw Brad in the cafeteria, and her heart did a handspring, though she did her best to ignore him. For some silly reason, she kept imagining him in a Viking helmet and carrying a spear. It didn’t help matters at all when Emily, her best friend, sighed and called him “dreamy.”

When Brad scored the winning touchdown at the Homecoming Game, Anne cheered along with everyone else, though she felt guilty doing it, knowing how her parents would disapprove.

The week before Brad’s graduation, Anne missed the bus and had to ride her bike to school. Late for her class, she flew down the hall and around the corner, and crashed straight into a tall, firm body coming the other way. She went down on her knees with her books scattered around her, and knew in that instant that she’d run into more trouble than she could handle.

“Nice block,” Brad drawled in his deep voice, “but I should warn you, you’re a little late to make the team this year.”

Mortified at looking stupid in front of him, she took refuge in anger. She glared up at him and muttered, “It’s not my fault if you’re dumb enough to get in my way.”

The gleam in his dark blue eyes unnerved her. “Well, Miss High-and-Mighty, for that you can pick up your own books.”

“Thanks for nothing.” She scrambled to her feet and collected her books, praying he would just disappear. This was the closest she’d been to him since grade school, and even a fourteen-year-old recognized a heartbreaker when she saw one. With that sexy smile, awesome body and those dreamy bedroom eyes, it was no wonder the girls hung around him all the time. Not that she’d waste her time on him, of course. He was an Irving, after all, and everyone knew what the Irvings were.

“So where’s the fire, anyway?”

She lifted her chin. “None of your business.”

“I guess you’re still a stuck-up brat, Annie Parker.”

“I guess you’re still a delinquent.”

He folded his arms across his broad chest, reminding her again of the childhood Viking image. “Yeah, and all the Parkers are saints.”

“We may not be saints, but at least we’re not thieves. We don’t go around stealing land away from its rightful owners.”

“No, you steal wives, instead.”

She flipped her hair back over her shoulder with a careless hand. “You can’t steal people. Annie Wilson married my great-grandfather because she loved him. It was the Irvings who turned it into a feud when they stole our land.”

“We didn’t steal the land. That land was bought legally, and it wasn’t worth much anyway until my family built the spa on it. Up until then it was just sitting there going to waste.”

“It was land that belonged to us, and the Irvings had no right to it. Henry Irving only bought it to get back at John Parker for marrying Annie.”

“And you Parkers have been trying to steal it back ever since.” His soft, mocking laugh set her teeth on edge. “So what can you do about it, Annie? You’re just a stuck-up kid with delusions of grandeur.”

“I’d rather be stuck-up than a low-down thief.”

Sparks danced in his eyes, but his voice was deceptively quiet when he answered. “Is that right? Well, one day I’ll make you and your precious family eat those words, Annie Parker. One by one. See if I don’t.”

She snorted. “When hell freezes over.”

“Watch me.”

She watched him disappear around the corner before yelling after him, “And my name’s not Annie. It’s Anne.”

Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to worry about him after next week, she told herself, as she stomped down the corridor to her class. Somehow he brought out the worst in her, though she had no idea why she let him get to her like that. She’d heard he was going to college somewhere in the east. With any luck, she’d never see him again.



The years passed swiftly while she followed her fascination with architecture and earned her degree in industrial design. She settled in Denver, and joined a partnership where she began to make a name for herself designing new office complexes.

Her visits home were brief and far between, and although she caught a glimpse of Brad once or twice, she managed to avoid meeting him face-to-face. And if every now and again something prompted a memory of a gorgeous Viking in full battle dress, she quickly erased it from her mind. Brad Irving could drop dead for all she cared.

The night she drove into Grand Springs to spend the holidays with her family, he was the farthest thing from her mind. It wasn’t exactly a joyful homecoming. Three months earlier, she’d called off her wedding plans when she’d discovered that her fiancé had spent the night in her chief bridesmaid’s bed.

Devastated by the betrayal, she’d given up her apartment, as well as her life in Denver, and was coming home to lick her wounds. There were worse places to make a living than Grand Springs, she’d decided. The town had grown in the four years she’d been gone, she could make use of her talents. And it would be good to be home, at least for a while.

Dan and Carol Parker welcomed their wounded daughter with open arms and undisguised sympathy. Her brother, Paul, pointed out how much better off she was without the jerk, while Sharon and Elise, her younger sisters, assured her there were plenty more apples in the orchard.

Anne had no intention of getting involved with another man. Ever. Convinced that all men were scum, she had no trouble adding Bradley Irving to that list when her sisters filled her in on the latest gossip.

Eighteen years had gone by since the last confrontation in high school. Brad now had a successful law practice right there in Grand Springs, and was gaining a reputation as the town’s most eligible bachelor. Since his father had died two years earlier, leaving Brad sole heir to his estate, this came as no surprise to Anne. He might be an Irving, but there was no denying Brad was devastating to look at. That combination of money and looks would be enough to draw the women like flies to a garbage can.

According to her sisters, Brad’s conquests were numerous and well publicized. That, and the fact that he was in his thirties and still single only confirmed Anne’s opinion of him. Brad Irving was a no-good womanizer with the manners of a barbarian. No better than a Viking savage.

When Anne discovered that her father had arranged to take the family to Mountview Ski Lodge for the New Year weekend celebrations, she did her best to get out of the popular social event. She just wasn’t in the mood for partying. The combined efforts of her parents, sisters and brother failed to change her mind, but when James Parker put in his own plea, she found it impossible to refuse her beloved grandfather.

On the night she reluctantly checked into the lodge, she was determined to make the best of things for the sake of her family.

After settling into her room, she hurried down the wide stairs to join her family in the dining room for dinner. As she rounded the corner of the crowded lobby, she ran smack into someone coming the other way.

With a surprised yelp, she bounced off the man’s muscular body and hit the wall hard with her shoulder. The impact jolted her purse out of her hand and it skidded across the polished floor between the feet of two young women who had just entered the lodge.

Anne didn’t need to look at the man she’d collided with to recognize him. She’d have known that deep, mocking voice anywhere.

“Are you always this clumsy, Annie Parker, or is this just your way of getting my attention?”

Anne gritted her teeth. It seemed she was destined to spend her life crashing into Brad Irving.




Chapter 1


Embarrassed, Anne retrieved her purse from the two grinning young women, then turned to face the man who seemed determined to make a fool of her.

He towered over her, like some awful instance of déjà vu, with just a hint of amusement in his expression. His hair looked darker than she remembered—more gold than yellow—and curled almost to his collar.

Determined not to let him destroy her composure, she decided that to attack was her best defense. “Well, if it isn’t the delinquent,” she murmured. “I’m surprised to see you. I would have thought a town like Grand Springs would have cramped your style by now.”

“Ah, that’s just where you’re wrong. Grand Springs still holds plenty of opportunities for an enterprising young man or woman with ambition.”

“So I heard,” Anne said dryly.

He gave her an audacious grin. Against her will, she noticed how well his creamy white sweater emphasized his broad shoulders, and how closely his black wool slacks skimmed his hips in a perfect fit. Brad Irving had grown up. And he was still drop-dead gorgeous. No wonder the women were falling all over him. If she’d known he was going to be at the lodge, she told herself fiercely, she definitely would have stayed at home.

“Rumor has it that you’re thinking about coming back here to live,” Brad said casually. “Big city life got to be too much for you?”

She shrugged, wondering how much he’d heard on the small town grapevine. “Something like that.”

“You’ll find the town has grown quite a bit since you left. Let me know if you need some pointers on the hot spots. I’m always available for advice and assistance.”

Annoyed at the way her pulse had jumped, Anne said cooly, “Thanks. I’m sure you’re an expert on the subject but I’m not interested in the nightlife of Grand Springs right now.”

She didn’t like the gleam in his eye when he answered her. “I was talking about apartments, places of business, that kind of thing.”

Again, he’d managed to make her feel foolish. “I think I can find my way around.”

“Well, the offer’s always there.”

She wasn’t about to be added to his list of conquests, she vowed silently. “I’m sure you have better things to do than entertain a Parker. Unless you’re figuring on starting World War III.”

He shook his head. “I decided a long time ago to stay neutral as far as the Irving versus Parker feud is concerned. All that pent-up hostility and backstabbing takes up too much energy.”

She suspected he was making fun of her family, but wasn’t sure enough to call him on it. Anxious to escape the magnetism of that killer smile, she said cooly, “Well, I have to run.” Good manners nudged her to say something conventional, such as how nice it was to see him again. She smothered the urge and turned to leave, just as the clatter of high heels echoed across the spacious dark-paneled lobby.

“Really, Brad,” a husky voice exclaimed, “can’t you find something better to do than hang around the lobby all evening?”

Brad’s face seemed to close up. “I was just on my way in to dinner, Mother.”

With a great deal of reluctance, Anne paused to acknowledge the woman standing behind her.

Darlene Irving was not a tall woman, but what she lacked in height she made up for in flamboyance. Taste had never been one of Darlene’s attributes. Her long, tight black skirt was slit up to her thigh, and she’d teamed it with a low-cut red halter top that revealed more of her uplifted bosom than Anne cared to see. Obviously Darlene had not lost her fondness for exploiting her generous figure. Her bleached platinum hair was drawn back in a tight knot at the back of her head, which displayed her cheekbones but emphasized the deep wrinkles in her neck.

Darlene looked like an aging hooker, Anne thought, and immediately chastised herself. “Good evening, Mrs. Irving,” she murmured, wishing she’d simply pretended not to notice the woman.

Darlene patted her immaculate hair, allowing Anne to see the flash of light explode from the large square-cut diamond on her right hand. “Oh, it’s you, Annie.”

Anne pursed her lips. “I prefer to be called Anne.”

“Really.” Darlene looked momentarily taken aback, but instantly recovered. “I heard all about your unfortunate experience, you poor dear. Fancy being dumped practically at the altar like that. Must have been devastating for you. Men can be such arrogant beasts. I suppose some people might say it was poetic justice, considering what happened to poor Henry Irving, but of course I wouldn’t dream of making such an assumption.”

“Mother—”

Brad’s muttered protest was ignored as Darlene rushed on. “One has to be so careful whom they trust in a big city. So many weirdos. And all that pollution! Such an aging effect on one. You look positively worn out, Annie. I heard you were painting office buildings now.”

Anne placed a smile on her face. At least Brad had the decency to look uncomfortable, she noticed. Wondering why she was bothering to defend herself against this obnoxious woman, she said deliberately, “Not painting. Designing. I’m an architect.”

“Really.” Darlene looked as if she’d just smelled something bad. “How terribly quaint.” She reached out a manicured hand and patted Brad on the shoulder. “You hear that, Brad? An architect. It’s really amazing what they allow women to do nowadays.” She gave Anne the kind of look a cat gives when it’s brought home a dead mouse. “Brad’s law firm is doing very well, you know.”

Brad shrugged, looking embarrassed, as well he might.

“Well, good for him.” Anne kept her icy gaze on Darlene’s face. “You must be so proud of him.”

“I am. He’s been such a comfort since poor Wally died.”

Remembering her manners, Anne swallowed her temper and said quietly, “I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your husband. It must be very hard for you.”

Darlene sighed. “Yes, it is. One tends to lean on family at times like these.”

“Speaking of which,” Anne said, grasping the opportunity, “I’m supposed to be at the dinner table right now with my family.”

Darlene’s heavily painted face took on a look of dismay. “Your family is here, too?”

“The entire family,” Anne assured her with ill-concealed satisfaction. “My parents, my brother and sisters, as well as my grandfather are all here to celebrate the new year.”

“Good heavens,” Darlene murmured. “The whole clan. I had no idea.” She turned to her son, her oversized, gold earrings swinging an inch or two above her shoulders. “Well, Brad darling, I suppose we shall just have to make the best of it. No doubt we’ll be falling over Parkers all weekend.”

Anne had finally had enough. With a muttered “Excuse me,” she turned her back on them and headed for the dining room. Revolting woman, she thought, seething with indignation. Anyone would think the holiday celebration had been planned entirely for her benefit, and that the Parkers were irritating intruders. Brad might have declared his neutrality, but his mother obviously intended to keep the Irving banner flying.

Her encounter had robbed her of an appetite, but she was not about to let anyone know that. Nor was she about to let the insufferable Irvings ruin the weekend. She would simply have to do her level best to avoid them.



Brad watched Anne disappear through the main doors of the dining room, feeling more than a little sorry for her. She’d met her match when dueling with his mother’s acid tongue. Though he had to admire the way she’d hung on to her composure. The fourteen-year-old kid he remembered would have instantly retaliated with a barrage of insults.

Remembering that last encounter in the halls of Burke Senior High, he twisted his mouth in a wry smile. He kind of missed that hot-tempered, spunky attitude of hers. Though her green eyes still sparkled with fire when she was mad.

“Pretentious little brat,” Darlene sputtered. “Did you see the way she looked at me? I prefer to be called Anne. The Parkers think they’re all so superior. Not that she has anything to preen about. Little wonder her boyfriend dumped her at the altar, if she patronized him the way she does everyone else. She deserves what she gets, that’s what I say.”

“Mother,” Brad said mildly, “I’m really not interested in anything that is remotely connected to the Parkers, so why don’t we just change the subject.”

Darlene sniffed. “Well, you should be. It was the Parkers who put your father into an early grave.”

He felt the familiar stab of pain at the mention of his dad, and he made an effort to keep his tone even, “Dad died because his heart couldn’t handle the stress of running the resort. You know that as well as I do.”

“He died,” Darlene said deliberately, “because he killed himself trying to hold on to that stupid piece of property rather than allow it to be sold back to the Parkers. He’d turn over in his grave if he knew it was shut down.”

“The Coldwater Spa was operating at a loss for the last few years. It was just a matter of time before he closed it down.”

“The right person could have made it profitable again.”

He knew what she was getting at, and he knew where that topic would lead. He’d fought with his father often enough over his decision to go to law school instead of taking over the management of the resort. He wasn’t about to fight with his mother over it, too.

“Well, it’s closed down now,” he said cheerfully, “so let’s just stop worrying about it and enjoy this weekend.”

He might have known she wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“If your father hadn’t stipulated in his will that the land had to stay in the family,” Darlene said, as they crossed the lobby together, “we could have asked a good price for Coldwater and been rid of it. If it hadn’t been for the Parkers and that ridiculous feud, we wouldn’t be stuck with it.”

“You can’t blame everything on the Parkers.” Brad paused at the entrance to the dining room. “We’ll enjoy the weekend a lot more if you just forget about the feud and the Parkers. Pretend they’re not here.”

Darlene sniffed. “That’s going to be a little difficult considering the entire mob is here. I don’t know how you can be so calm about it. After all, if it hadn’t been for that family, you would probably have had a better relationship with your father.”

Brad winced. It was a low blow, and there was just no answer to that. Wishing he were anywhere else but at Mountview Ski Lodge that weekend, he escorted his mother into the dining room.



A few yards away, Anne sat at a long table at the far end of the room, next to one of the tall windows overlooking the slopes. She’d always loved the rustic atmosphere of the lodge, with its wide, natural beams and cathedral ceilings. Logs crackled and spat in the huge stone fireplace just feet away, and she could feel the heat from the hungry flames as she looked around the table at her family.

It was so good to be with them all again, though she missed her grandma Nellie. She smiled at Grandpa James, who sat next to her. She couldn’t resist giving him a hug. “How are you doing, Grandpa?”

His pale gray eyes peered at her over the top of his glasses. “I’d feel a damn sight better if it was colder.”

She was immediately concerned. “Are you too hot? Would you like to move? I’m sure they’ll be happy to set up another table further away from the fire.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s the snow I’m worried about.” He nodded at the window. “Looks a little mushy to me.”

Paul, who was sitting on the other side of him, gave him a nudge with his elbow. “You planning on skiing with us, Gramps?”

Grandpa James shook his head. “Got too much respect for my old bones.” He gave Paul a stern look. “Stay off that mountain, sonny, if you value your skin.” He glanced around the table. “That goes for all of you. Not safe out there. Temperature’s rising. Take my word for it.”

Paul laughed. At twenty-four he was a carbon copy of their father, except his dark blond hair showed no signs of the thinning that plagued Dan Parker. Paul had inherited his father’s broad shoulders and chunky build, and was supremely confident of his immortality. “You worry too much, Gramps. We’re all fantastic skiers. After all, we’ve been doing it since we were old enough to walk.”

Grandpa scowled at him. “Don’t mess with Mother Nature, boy. You’ll find out she has a mean hand.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Father, stop treating them all as if they were still toddlers.” Carol Parker, an attractive woman from whom Anne had inherited her thick hair and green eyes, gazed fondly at her four children. “Though sometimes I have to admit, it’s hard for me to realize you are all so grown-up. Especially now that we’re all together again.” She reached out and lightly pressed Anne’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re coming back to Grand Springs, darling. We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you all, too.” Anne sipped at her iced tea before adding casually, “I bumped into the Irvings in the foyer.”

Her father groaned. “Oh, no, don’t tell me that awful woman is here. You didn’t speak to her, did you? She gives the place a bad name. I suppose she’s got that scheming son of hers with her? She never goes anywhere without him now that Wally’s gone.”

“Now, Dan, let’s not let those dreadful people spoil our weekend.” Carol looked hopefully at Anne for support. “The best thing to do is completely ignore them. Pretend we don’t see them.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Secretly Anne thought that might be impossible, considering the lodge wasn’t that big.

“Well, I’m glad Brad Irving’s here,” Sharon said, smirking at Elise. “I think he’s positively awesome looking.”

“The sexiest man in town, that’s for sure.” Elise flicked her long blond hair over her shoulder with a careless hand. “I wouldn’t mind spending a night with him, I can tell you.”

“That’s enough, girls,” Carol warned mildly. “You know how talk like that irritates your father.”

“The man’s a damn crook,” Dan muttered. “How can you two talk like that about a man whose family stole your heritage? If it wasn’t for the Irvings, we’d still own that damn land, and I wouldn’t have to face bankruptcy to keep you two in college.”

Sharon’s face burned as she reached for her water glass. Elise lifted her chin, and Anne knew her youngest sister was going to argue. She should have kept her mouth shut about seeing Brad and his mother, she thought, cursing herself for starting a familiar argument.

“Well, it’s not worth much now,” Elise said, with a hint of defiance. “Now that they’ve closed down the spa it’s just empty buildings sitting there doing nothing.”

“It’s still good land.” Dan set his fork down on his plate with a clatter. “I’m damn sure I could find something to do with it. Trust that thieving lawyer to let it go to waste. Too damn busy cheating people out of their hard-earned money, that’s his problem.”

“Now, dear, let’s just forget about it, shall we?” Carol looked pleadingly at her husband. “I really would like to enjoy this weekend with my wonderful family, and for once forget the existence of the Irvings.”

“That’s not going to be easy,” Sharon said, echoing Anne’s thoughts. “Brad will be on the midnight ski run. There’s only fifteen of us signed up, so we’re bound to bump into him.”

“Cool,” Elise murmured softly, earning a frown from her father.

“We signed you up for it, Anne,” Sharon said eagerly. “Paul’s going, too. It should be fun. I love skiing at night.”

So did Anne, but the thought of racing down a dark mountain next to Brad Irving took the joy out of it. She smiled at her sisters. “I think I’ll pass. It’s been a while since I was on skis.”

“I think you should all pass it up,” Grandpa James muttered. “You’re all crazy if you go down that mountain.”

“You’ve got to go, Anne!” Elise cried in dismay. “It won’t be the same without you. There’s going to be a welcome-back party for the skiers and everything.”

“Not afraid of Brad Irving, are you?” Sharon asked slyly.

Anne felt her cheeks grow warm. “Of course not,” she said sharply. “If you really want me to go that badly, I’ll go.”

Grandpa James shook his head. “Crazy,” he muttered. “Every last one of them.”

“We’re bound to see Brad at the New Year’s Eve party, anyway,” Paul said, eyeing the huge tray of desserts placed on the table by an attractive waitress. “So we might as well meet the enemy on the slopes and beat the heck out of him.”

Carol looked alarmed. “You’re not going to fight that man, are you Paul? I despise the Irvings as much as anyone, but I wouldn’t want to see you fight.”

Paul grinned. “Relax, Mom. I just meant we’d all beat him down the mountain, that’s all.”

“That’s if you get down,” Grandpa muttered darkly.

Aware that no one was listening to him, as usual, Anne patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Grandpa,” she said softly. “I’ll keep an eye on them all.”

“Tell us about your plans for the new year, Anne dear.” Carol picked up a dish of cheesecake and offered it to her eldest daughter. “I’m dying to know what you intend to do next.”

“I thought I’d find an office to rent downtown,” Anne said, doing her best not to notice Brad and his mother seated at the opposite end of the room. Elise and Sharon might think that Bradley Irving was the sexiest man in town, she told herself, but personally, she couldn’t see it.

Trust Darlene Irving to mention her aborted wedding. The thought of Jason didn’t enter her mind anymore until someone mentioned him. Actually, compared to the suave, confident man across the room, Jason was a wimp.

The thought surprised her. She hastily reminded herself that, wimp or not, Brad Irving was just as much a womanizer as Jason, and infinitely more irritating. Then she deliberately put them both out of her mind for the rest of the meal.



By late afternoon the following day, the clouds that had been gathering all afternoon had gradually thickened to a thick gray mass above the slopes. By the time Anne and her siblings joined the midnight skiers at the chairlifts, the wind danced through the branches of the pines and tossed mounds of snow to the ground below. A fine mist hung over the lodge, obliterating the night sky.

Grandpa James had already retired for the night, but Dan and Carol had settled themselves by the fire to await the return of their family.

Elise and Sharon chattered endlessly as they waited for their turn on the lifts. Standing behind them, Anne listened to Paul’s account of his work as a computer analyst without really understanding what he was talking about. Her attention was on a tall, blond man at the rear of the line, deep in conversation with a redhead who laughed at everything he said. Anne wondered if they were at the lodge together, then told herself it was none of her business. Though she did wonder how romantic a rendezvous could be if Brad had brought his mother along.

Some of the guests had braved the cool night wind to cheer on the skiers, and would remain on the terrace to watch the descent. The team’s headlamps would provide a pleasing display of bobbing lights as they swooped down the mountain.

Anne clasped her ski poles as she stepped onto the line next to Paul and waited for the chair to swing in behind them. Tiny flakes of snow drifted down in the flare of the lights and danced now and again in a flurry of wind.

The faint smell of pine perfumed the clean night air, and Anne felt a stirring of anticipation as the edge of the chair closed in behind her knees. She settled herself on the seat, prepared to enjoy the ride to the top of the run. This was the part she loved—the moments before she launched herself into the wild, exhilarating journey down the still, silent world of the slopes.

She had never lost her thrill of the run—that rush of heady excitement as her skis swished through the smooth, white snow and the cold wind whipped her face. For a few brief minutes she could leave behind all the worries and stress of her workday world, and transcend to a calmer, more peaceful place where all that mattered was the frosty ground slipping away beneath her feet as she sped on wings to the earth below.

“The snow’s coming down pretty good,” Paul remarked, as they reached the end of their ride and slid gracefully from their chair. “If those clouds get any lower they won’t see our lights from the lodge.”

Anne glanced up at the black sky above her. “We should be down before the worst of the storm comes in.”

“I see our hotshot lawyer has found himself another candidate for heartbreak,” Paul muttered.

She followed his gaze to where Brad was helping the redhead out of the chair. The woman fell against him and he caught her, wrapping his arms around her to steady her. Anne watched her laugh up at him, clinging to him as if she were helpless to stand by herself. Heaven knew what the silly woman would do once she got on the slopes, Anne thought.

She tried to ignore the two of them as she took her place at the top of the run. Paul and his sisters lined up on her left, and she was relieved to see Brad and his giggling girlfriend at the opposite end of the line.

Their leader stood in the middle of the group, ready to lead off on his own. After a count of five, the person on each side of him would follow, then the person on each side of them, until all fifteen skiers were descending in a giant V formation.

Anne forgot about Brad as she poised on her mark, waiting for her turn. With a shout that echoed across the still mountain, the lead took off, disappearing into the eerie half darkness. Within seconds the beam of his flashlight sliced through the falling snow, which was the signal for the next two to go, then the next.

Anne waited for the flash of light to signal her turn, then launched herself forward. Her spirits soared as her skis cut through the snow, and she crouched to gain speed. Ahead of her the bobbing lights of the skiers guided her down a trail that was hard to see against the blowing snow. Thick flakes slanted across the wide beam of her headlamp, bringing her visibility down to a few feet ahead of her.

A quick glance back assured her that Paul and her sisters were close behind her, though it was impossible to distinguish their faces in the dark. She faced forward again, and as she did so, a loud crack echoed across the mountainside, followed by an ominous rumbling.

At first she thought it was thunder, but when the sound grew louder instead of fading away, she flicked a glance over her shoulder. Faintly she heard Paul’s shout above the ever increasing roar, but she couldn’t understand what he said. The next time she looked back he waved his arm frantically up and down. Her apprehension leapt to alarm when she saw her two sisters veer off sharply to their left.

Then the significance of the thundering roar hit her, and her heart seemed to freeze in fear. Just a few yards behind Paul, barely distinguishable in the dim light, a wall of snow loomed above him, bearing down on him fast.

Avalanche. The thing every mountain skier and climber dreaded. The tumbling, suffocating mass of snow and debris was hurtling down on the skiers, with the lodge itself directly in its path.

Instinctively, Anne dug in her poles and leaned to her left, beginning the curve that would take her out of the path of the deadly flow. One frantic glance back assured her that her sisters had reached the trees and were clear of the onslaught. Seconds later she saw Paul plunge after them, barely escaping the edge of the swirling, heaving mass of destruction.

The furious white wave was almost on her now, like a giant breaker in the rolling surf. The noise was deafening. Twenty yards. She dug her poles frantically into the soft snow, desperate for more speed.

Almost there. She could see the edge of the trees, then suddenly lost sight of them as a cloud of wet snow enveloped her. The freezing air closed around her, choking her, blinding her. She fought to keep her balance as she felt the ground shift beneath her. Then something hit her hard in the shoulder.

She went flying, rolling and tumbling at a terrifying speed inside the cold, wet suffocating blanket of snow. Just when she thought she would never draw breath again, the ground abruptly gave way beneath her.

Barely conscious now, she realized she was falling. Her last thought was to wonder how long it would take for her grieving family to find her body at the bottom of a ravine. Then the darkness wiped out the world.




Chapter 2


At the first faint rumble of thunder, the spectators on the terrace looked expectantly up toward the mountain peaks. They could see nothing through the driving snow. Not even the skiers’ lights. Some of them grumbled that it wasn’t worth waiting outside in the cold.

Only a handful stayed behind to witness the awesome sight of what seemed to be half the mountain bearing down on the lodge. Screaming warnings, the guests scattered and raced for shelter. Seconds later the terrace was torn from its supports, and the formidable roar of the avalanche swallowed up the splintering sound of shattered windows.

In his room on the second floor, Dr. Tony Petrocelli paused in the act of removing his shirt and tilted his dark head to one side. The noise he heard sounded like a freight train coming out of a tunnel. He frowned at his wife, who sat on the edge of the bed, staring up at him with anxious blue eyes.

“What is it?” Beth asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Tony shrugged. “Beats me. Probably some kind of celebration—” He broke off, his words cut off by the sound of splintering wood and groaning timbers.

Beth’s eyes grew round. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said grimly. “But I think we’d better find out.” He grabbed his wife’s jacket off the back of the chair and threw it to her. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this.”

On her feet in an instant, Beth shrugged her arms into the parka. “Thank God we left Christopher with your family,” she muttered as she followed her husband out the door.

Downstairs by the fireplace, Carol Parker thought she was imagining things as she stared at the snow piling up through the jagged remains of the windows. She turned to Dan, who looked as horrified as she felt. “The kids,” she said urgently. “What happened to our kids?”

Dan wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.”

She heard the forced assurance in his voice and her blood chilled. “Dan, they were on the mountain. They were all on the mountain.” Her voice rose as she struggled to free herself from his hold. “Dear God, Dan, where are they?”

Everything seemed to be a blur after that. She heard Dan’s voice, trying to calm her, but she was incapable of thinking clearly. People seemed to be everywhere, some rushing about, some sitting, some lying still on the floor. She saw Darlene Irving, crying and screaming, while a woman with auburn hair tried to comfort her. Recognizing Beth Petrocelli, Carol felt a moment’s relief that her husband would be somewhere around as well. Tony Petrocelli was a good doctor, and it looked as if some of those people would need his help.

She thought about the girls and Paul, lying injured out there somewhere, helpless and alone. The agonized groan she heard was her own.

Dan’s hands tightened on her shoulders and he gave her a little shake. “Snap out of it, Carol. I have to go outside and help dig out the people buried under the debris. I need you to stay with Dad. He’s insisting on helping and I don’t want him out there. Get it together, Carol. I need you.”

Her mind cleared, and she stared at him, her feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm her. “We have to find them, Dan,” she whispered.

His blue eyes stared back at her, and she found strength in the resolution she saw in them. “Doc Petrocelli is organizing a search party. As soon as it’s light I’ll go with them, and I won’t come back without the kids. Will you be okay here now?”

She nodded and managed a stiff smile. “Just be careful out there. That snow is treacherous.”

“Try not to worry. Just help out here where you can.”

It was easier to be busy, she realized, as she herded Grandpa into the dining room where several people sat propped against the wall. The opposite wall had caved in with the weight of the snow, but the roof was still intact. Obviously the worst of the avalanche had missed the lodge.

Obeying Beth Petrocelli’s instructions, she helped clean grazes and cuts and apply bandages. Grandpa, having accepted the fact that he would be more hindrance than help, was doing his best to cheer up the wounded with his ancient jokes.

According to the comments Carol overheard, half the lodge was buried beneath the weight of the snow, and the avalanche had completely cut off the road to town. Dr. Petrocelli would have his hands full until help arrived.

When Paul suddenly popped up in front of Carol, she let out a shriek of joy. When she saw Sharon and Elise behind him, she burst into tears. Swept up in her relief, it was a moment or two before she realized that her eldest daughter was not with them.

Struggling to keep the panic at bay, she clung to Paul’s arm. “Anne,” she said urgently. “Where is she?”

She knew at once by the agony on Paul’s face that she didn’t want to hear what he had to tell her.

“She was right on the edge of it, Mom,” he said, his voice shaky. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. Dad and I will be joining the search party as soon as it’s light. We’ll find her. I know we will.”

Her fingers tightened as she heard her daughters begin to cry. She had to be strong. For their sakes, she had to be strong. Paul was right. He and Dan would find her baby. They just had to find her.

Hold on, my precious daughter, she urged silently. Just please, hold on.



It was cold. So incredibly cold, and something wet and heavy pressed down on her head. The wall supporting her back felt like a jagged block of ice. Her right leg was jammed up against something hard that barely shifted when she tried to move it.

Darkness enveloped her like a thick black blanket. She couldn’t see anything at all. For a moment she panicked, wondering if she was blind. She shook her head, trying to clear her fogged mind. Pain sliced across her eyes and she moaned.

Her wool hat, headlamp and goggles were gone, and whatever was sitting on top of her head slid down with a plop onto her lap. Some of it seeped into her collar, freezing her neck.

Snow. Now she remembered.

Cautiously she tilted her head back. Above her she could see a patch of light gray. Nothing else. But at least she could see. Feeling a little better, she moved her hand and felt the cold, hard ground beneath her. She stretched her arm to explore a little farther, and her nerves received a nasty jolt when her fingers encountered thin air. Patting the ground on either side of her, she faced the truth. She was on a ledge. A very narrow ledge.

The pungent smell of pine told her that the thing pressing against her right leg was a broken tree. She clung to it for a moment, aware that it had probably saved her life. So far, anyway.

Her spirits plummeted as the reality of her predicament dawned on her. She had fallen into a ravine. By a miracle she’d landed on a ledge. She was alive, and except for a bad headache and an excruciating pain in her right ankle, she apparently had no serious injuries. That was the good news.

The bad news was that it would be next to impossible to climb out of there. Even if she could find a slight foothold in the sheer face of the wall behind her, her experimental wiggling of her right foot told her she’d either broken or sprained her ankle. The ledge was so narrow she was frightened to move. One slip and she could plummet anywhere from a few yards to several hundred feet, depending on the depth of the ravine. That was something she wouldn’t know until it was light enough to see. If she lived that long in this bitter cold.

For several minutes depression and panic overwhelmed her. She began yelling with all the breath she could muster, even though she had little hope of anyone hearing her. She yelled until she was exhausted, and finally her breath died on a sob. It was no good. She was going to die there, alone on the mountain.

She started thinking about her family, and how they must be feeling. She struggled to remember those last terrifying moments, and felt sure that Paul and her sisters had jumped clear of the avalanche’s fury. She wondered if the snow had covered the lodge, and if everyone there was all right. What if they’d all been buried? Her grandfather, her parents…what would Elise and Sharon do without them? Paul could take care of himself, but her sisters would be devastated.

A cold, wet tear slid slowly down her cheek, and she dashed it away with the back of her hand. She had to pull herself together. If she was going to die, she refused to go whimpering like a baby, she thought fiercely. She shifted her position, trying to get more comfortable, and realized one of her skis was still attached to her injured foot. The other must have come off in her wild tumble through the snow.

She couldn’t reach her foot to take off the ski, and she couldn’t pull her foot toward her because the ski was jammed behind the tree. She slumped back against the wall, fighting against the return of panic. In her entire life, she’d never felt so alone.

She thought about her grandfather, and tried to guess what he would tell her now. All her life she’d gone to him for advice, from the time when she was six and her parents wouldn’t let her have a puppy until four years ago when she’d wrestled with her decision to live in Denver. Somehow Grandpa James was easier to talk to than her parents, much as she loved them. Grandpa had a way of really listening to her, and never judged her—never laughed at her silly notions the way her father sometimes did.

She closed her eyes and imagined he was there with her, sitting by her side, listening to her woes. After a while she heard his gravelly voice, as clearly as if he’d spoken to her. Sing, he told her. Singing lifts the spirits. Make as much noise as you can. Sing your heart out, Anne. Sing!

She sang. Every song she could think of. And when she didn’t know the words she made them up. She was in the middle of a rousing chorus of “God Bless America” when a faint sound penetrated her high-pitched screeching.

She snapped her mouth shut and held her breath. If there was a timber wolf out there she didn’t want to let it know that its next meal was just a few feet away. In the silence that followed she thought she must have imagined the noise, and gathered her breath to blast out another chorus. Before she could let it out, however, she heard the noise again. Closer this time.

Excitement gripped her as she strained her ears. She was either suffering from delusion, or that was a human voice she’d heard. Tears welled up and ran unchecked down her cheeks when she heard the shout again. It was a human voice. And he wasn’t too far away.

Terrified that he’d pass right by her, she dragged in her breath and let it out in a furious bellow of desperation. “Help! Please help me!”

“Hang on, I’m coming. Just keep yelling.”

“I’m down here, in a ravine. Please, be careful.” The last thing she needed was a man’s heavy body tumbling down on top of her. More than likely he’d send them both hurtling to their deaths.

She refused to think about that, but waited in an agony of suspense until she heard another shout. It was much closer this time.

“Where are you?”

“Wait! Don’t move. You’re close to the edge of the ravine. Wait a minute and I’ll send up a snowball.” She quickly gathered up some snow and formed it into a ball. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, throw away!”

His voice sounded muffled, and vaguely familiar. Excited now, she braced herself against the wall. She would have to throw underarm…she had no room to bring her elbow back for an overarm throw. Praying she had the strength to lob the snowball high enough for her rescuer to see it, she leaned forward and flung her hand skyward.

The snowball shot out of her hand and she saw it silhouetted against the gray patch of sky, then it fell like a stone. She never heard it land. She tried not to think how far down it had fallen.

She peered up at the gray patch and yelled, “Did you see it?”

“I saw it.” Seconds later a beam of light flashed downward, blinding her. “I have to tell you, Annie Parker, that was the worst rendition of “God Bless America” I’ve ever heard.”

She blinked, her mind refusing to accept what her ears had heard. It couldn’t be. She was imagining things again.

Then he spoke again, chasing away any doubt in her mind. “I know how you big city dwellers crave excitement, but isn’t this going a little too far?”

She groaned aloud. Unbelievable. A whole damn mountain out there and Brad Irving had to be the one to stumble across her. In the next instant she was ashamed of her uncharitable thought. She could have died in that ravine if he hadn’t found her.

Concern crept into his voice as he peered down at her. “Are you hurt?”

His face looked ghostly in the reflection from his headlamp, but there was no mistaking those chiseled features. She roused herself to answer. “My ankle hurts, but otherwise I’m okay.”

“Is it broken?”

She wiggled it and winced. “I don’t think so. But my foot is jammed behind this broken tree and I can’t get my ski off.”

The light moved off her face and probed around her. For the first time she could see the edge of the ledge and the blackness beyond. Her stomach heaved. She had less room than she thought. She watched the headlamp’s beam move over the broken tree and her shattered ski.

“Looks like we’ll have to shift that tree before we can get you up,” Brad said, with a lot more confidence than the situation warranted, in Anne’s opinion.

“I might go down with it,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Suit yourself, but I don’t recommend it.”

His cheerful tone irritated her. The last thing she needed right now was his warped sense of humor. “So what do you suggest? That’s if you’re capable of coming up with a practical solution.”

“If I don’t, then I guess you’re stuck down there. If I were you I’d think about that, Annie, and try to be civil to me.”

Deciding to play it safe, she said dryly, “I’ll do my best, but my temperament is not at its greatest right now. For reasons you should be able to understand. And by the way, since you seem to keep forgetting, the name’s Anne.”

“Right.”

The light disappeared, leaving her in the cold darkness once more. She looked up, but all she could see was the patch of gray above her. For a terrifying moment of disbelief she thought he’d left her, but then the beam slashed across her face again, temporarily blinding her.

She could hear Brad grunting and cursing, and a shower of snow descended on her, then she saw his face suspended above her again.

“Can’t shift the tree from up here,” he said, sounding breathless. “You’ll have to try and shove it away from you at your end.”

“I don’t think I can,” she said miserably.

“You can if I’m hanging on to you. I think I can reach you from here. Stretch your arms up and see if you can reach my hands.”

She saw his gloved hands sliding down toward her. He had to be lying flat on his stomach in the snow. She stretched as high as she could. There was at least a six-inch gap between her fingers and his. “Not without standing up,” she said, trying not to let defeat creep into her voice.

“Okay, hang on.” Again he disappeared, and she waited, feeling the cold gnawing at her bones. Seconds later something slithered over the edge and snaked down toward her.

“Buckle this belt around one of your wrists,” Brad ordered. “I’ve got the other end around mine. It will hold you while you kick the tree out from the ledge.”

She took off one of her gloves long enough to fasten the belt around her wrist, then pulled it on again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Before we do this,” Brad said calmly, “I should tell you I don’t have a lot of traction up here. So try not to fall off the ledge, okay?”

She understood what he meant. The avalanche had laid a blanket of deep, soft snow over the area. It would be slippery even to walk on. Trying to get traction in it would be almost impossible. There was every chance that in trying to get her out of there, Brad could very well fall down in there with her. She didn’t want to think about where they might end up.

“Look,” she said, with just a slight waver in her voice. “Are you sure about this? I mean, I could wait here while you go get help.”

“We don’t have time for that. I’ve lost my skis and it could take hours, if not days, to get down the mountain on foot, even if I could find my way. It’s snowing like crazy up here.”

She could tell that from the snowflakes drifting down on her face. He was right, she didn’t have that much time. Already she could feel the numbness creeping up her right leg. “Okay,” she said unsteadily. “Let’s do it.”

“Right. I’ve got a good hold on you, so I want you to kick that tree out from under you with your good foot. If you give it a good shove near the base, it should go down. Okay?”

She swallowed. “Okay. Just tell me when.”

The light vanished and she closed her eyes, willing herself to think positively.

“All right—now. Kick it as hard as you can.”

Her first attempt was weak, and failed to dislodge the tree, thought it jolted her almost off the ledge. Clinging to her makeshift lifeline, she tried again. This time the tree shifted, bringing fresh pain to her ankle. She bit her lip, brought her knee up as far as she could, and then jammed it hard against the tree trunk. With a horrible scraping sound the tree moved, then with a groan, slid away from her. It seemed an awful long time before she heard the crashing thud of its landing far below.

Her voice had raised several notches when she called out, “It’s gone.”

“I heard it.” Brad sounded grim now. “Can you reach your ski to take it off?”

“I think so.” Carefully she bent her right knee and fiddled with the clamps. The shattered ski fell away from her and joined the tree at the bottom of the ravine. “Okay, it’s gone, too.”

“Then try to stand up. I’ll pull as hard as I can. Move real slowly, and try to stay as close to the wall as you can.”

She gripped the belt and drew in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

At the first tug of the belt she pulled herself painfully to her feet. Brad’s tone was a lot lighter now, and she took heart, even though her stomach seemed to drop at the thought of leaving the fragile security of that ledge.

“You should be able to reach my hands now,” Brad said above her.

She looked up, almost into his face. “Hi,” she said unsteadily. “And thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said gruffly. “I still have to get you out of here.”

Once more he lowered his hands toward her. “Take off your gloves. We’ll have a better grip.”

Quickly she took off the gloves and shoved them in her pockets. Then she reached up and grasped his hands. “I don’t have any footholds,” she said, striving to sound unafraid. “The wall is as smooth as glass.”

“Then I guess brute strength will have to do. Good thing I work out regularly.”

For once she was in complete agreement. “I could try jumping,” she suggested.

“Too risky. Better let me take your weight and keep as still as you can.”

“All right.” She swallowed hard as her feet left the ledge and she felt herself hanging from the death grip Brad had on her hands. She heard him grunt as she inched up the wall, then her head cleared the top of the ravine and she could look out at the swirling snow. One more painful jerk on her hands and her upper body was on firm ground. She was safe.

Brad let go of her hands, but before she could drag herself farther out he grabbed her under the armpits and hauled her the rest of the way. They both went down in a heap in the snow where, much against her will, she ended up sprawled on top of him.

For a moment or two it seemed neither of them could get their breath, then Brad said wheezily, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

“Believe me,” Anne said, just as breathlessly, “this wasn’t planned.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were still trying to get my attention.” He grinned up at her. “Though I can think of better places to get cozy.”

The comment was enough to remind her exactly who he was. She rolled off him and sat up. “I’m very grateful to you for getting me out of there, Brad, but don’t think it gives you any special privileges.”

She could see his expression quite clearly in the reflection from his headlamp. He actually looked offended, though she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “Are you kidding? It was the furthest thing from my mind. I know better than to hit on a Parker. I’m liable to get drawn and quartered.”

“Well, don’t let it ruin your evening.” Miffed in spite of herself, she scrambled unsteadily to her feet.

He got up more slowly. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” She hesitated, then added in a rush, “Look, I really am very grateful.”

“No big deal. Just don’t tell anyone I rescued a Parker. My mother would never let me forget it.”

She leaned down to massage her ankle. “I’ll take care not to mention it to her. But I’m quite sure my family will be very grateful.”

He pulled on his gloves and turned up the collar of his jacket. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done, so don’t feel you have to take it personally. I wouldn’t have left a dog down there to freeze to death.”

Feeling somewhat offended by his cavalier tone, she tested her weight on her ankle. An agonizing shaft of pain made her wince. It was going to be a painful trip back down the mountain. Her voice sharpened. “Well, I’m grateful that you think I was worth saving. I’ll share a bone with you when we get back to town. Which can’t be soon enough for me.”

“Well, you might have to wait a while for that.” Light blazed a path across the snow as he turned his head. Thick white snowflakes slanted down the beam, obliterating everything except for a few feet ahead. “We won’t get far in this mess tonight.”

She stared at him in alarm. “What are you saying? You’re not suggesting we stay the night up here?”

The resignation in his face frightened her. “Looks like it.”

“We can’t stay here.” She fought a wave of panic. “We’ll freeze to death. Besides, everyone will be worried sick. We have to at least try to get back down.”

Brad shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Believe me, there’s nothing I’d like better. I should point out, however, that it’s snowing like crazy, the avalanche has wiped out the trails, it’s dark as blazes and the battery in my headlamp won’t last much longer. If that isn’t enough, you can’t walk on that ankle, and if you think I can carry you down this mountain then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I’m in pretty good shape, but I’m not a superhero. I’m sorry, Your Highness, but like it or not, we’re going to be spending the night right here on this mountain.”




Chapter 3


Anne had never felt so cold in her entire life. She looked around at the swirling snow, appalled because she knew he was right, yet still unwilling to accept it. “Someone must be looking for us,” she said desperately. “If we at least start down they’ll spot us sooner or later.”

“They won’t send anyone out until it’s light. It’s too dangerous in this snowstorm.”

She felt too devastated to answer him. She knew what little chance they had of surviving the night without shelter. Already the freezing wind seeped into her bones, making her movements stiff and awkward.

“Here.” Brad pulled a ski cap from his pocket and handed it to her. “I always keep a spare in my pocket. It will help keep your body warmth in.”

The gesture took her by surprise, and momentarily eased the chill inside her. She took it from him with mumbled thanks and pulled it on her head.

“I saw a cabin on my way down here.” Brad pointed up the mountain. “It’s not too far. Do you think you could make it if I help you?”

Hope flared at once. “I’ll make it,” she said firmly.

“It doesn’t look as if anyone’s used the cabin for a long time, but I saw a chimney and we might be able to find a way to light a fire. Can you walk on that ankle?”

Just the thought of being close to a fire made her feel better. She tested her weight on her foot again and gritted her teeth. “I’ll manage.”

“Here, grab hold of my arm. We need to get out of this snow before we both freeze to death.”

Too cold even to answer him, she slipped her gloved hand inside the crook of his arm and stepped gingerly onto her injured ankle. The pain made her nauseous and it took all her self-control not to groan.

Her frown must have betrayed her, however, as Brad clamped his arm around her waist. “Here, lean on me. Try to keep as much weight off your foot as possible.”

She had to admit, his presence helped a lot. His hip supported her as they struggled forward in the deep snow, and his grip on her waist propelled her along, while she braced her arm around the small of his back and clung to his soaked jacket.

When he spoke again his deep voice seemed to rumble through her entire body. “I’m sorry, Annie. This has to be tough on a woman like you.”

She didn’t answer him at first, absorbed in putting one foot in front of the other with as little pain as possible. But after a moment or two, the significance of his comment started to bother her. “What do you mean,” she demanded breathlessly, “a woman like me?”

“You know what I mean. All that city living makes people soft. You’re obviously not used to the rigors of outdoor activities.”

She barely managed to keep her voice even. “And you are, I take it.”

“I’ve had a lot more experience at it than you have, yes.”

“Really.” She could feel her blood warming up. “Well, it’s a little tough to leap buildings with a single bound on a busted ankle.”

“Granted. I’m talking about your lifestyle, though.”

“And just what do you know about my lifestyle that makes you such an expert on it?”

“Small town. People talk.”

“Well, you’ve been talking to the wrong people.” Her foot slipped, almost unbalancing her.

Brad’s arm tightened around her waist. “Come on, admit it. You spend your spare time eating out at fancy restaurants or going to the theater. Right? Hardly measures up to climbing a mountain in a snowstorm.”

Her lips tightened, or they would have done so if she could have felt them. “I had no idea I led such a boring life. Not at all like yours, of course. Must be very satisfying to be honored as the town’s most conspicuous swinging single.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that some people have a problem growing up.”

He grunted something under his breath, and she resisted the urge to ask him what he’d said. She had an idea she’d be better off not knowing.

After a few more yards, he said quietly, “You know, we’ll get through this a lot better if we just manage to keep a sense of humor.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “My sense of humor would have a better chance of asserting itself if you could keep your mind on practical issues instead of passing judgment on people whom you know nothing about.”

“I was just trying to make conversation. It’s good for our morale.”

“Well, do us both a favor and quit worrying about our morale. We’ll both do a lot better without your helpful observations. Besides, I don’t have enough breath to talk.”

He didn’t answer, and again her conscience pricked her. He had, after all, saved her life, and was doing his best to find shelter for her. If she wasn’t so darn cold and worried, not to mention in severe pain, she’d handle things better. It didn’t help her disposition to be uncomfortably aware of the fact that on some deep, primitive level, the man was having a disturbing effect on her hormones.

The thought of spending the night alone with him in an isolated cabin was actually heating up her blood in spite of the frigid temperature. The very fact that he could arouse those feelings in her when she was so miserably cold and in pain was a testament to his formidable sex appeal. Having listened to her sisters avidly describe some of his conquests in town, however, coupled with the fact that he was an Irving, it shouldn’t be too difficult to stay immune to his lethal charm, she assured herself. She’d have to make damn sure to keep remembering his shortcomings. She just hoped and prayed that would be enough.



Brad felt another chill shudder through his body and braced his shoulders against the frigid wind. Snowflakes blew directly into his face and clung to his eyelashes. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision.

In spite of the cheerful front he was trying to keep up, he had no illusions about the urgency of their situation. They were in deep trouble all right. Stranded on a mountain during a whiteout was no picnic at the best of times. Saddled with an injured, helpless female who considered herself far too superior to be on the same mountain as him didn’t improve the situation any.

If he’d had any hope at all of getting back to the lodge with her he’d have made the attempt. He’d been around the mountains long enough, however, to know the risks of trying to walk out on foot. Even in good weather and on two good feet it would have been a formidable task.

The trails had probably been covered up by the avalanche, maybe even the lodge as well. It would be too easy to get disoriented and lose all sense of direction. They wouldn’t stand a chance out there without food or shelter. As it was, he wasn’t at all sure he could find the cabin he’d passed.

All he could do was hope they’d stumble across it again, and that there were enough supplies to keep them going until they were rescued.

“Is that the cabin up there?” Anne said, pointing to his right. “There’s something up there. Or is it just a tree?”

He paused, squinting against the blinding snow. To his enormous relief, he could see the squat, square shape of the cabin against the backdrop of snow. “That’s it! Good job. We could have walked right past it without even noticing it.”

“I’m glad I’m useful for something.”

She’d sounded dispirited and he glanced down at her in concern. She would need all her strength and determination to survive this little jaunt. She wasn’t the type to handle these rugged conditions, and he was more than a little worried about how she’d react to the primitive aspects of the next few hours. Especially if those hours stretched into another day.

Though he had to admit, she’d handled her rescue with a lot more fortitude than he would have given her credit for, under the circumstances. If she could hang on to that kind of grit for a while, they might just survive the ordeal.

He felt her stumble and tightened his grip on her waist. Even though the parka added padding to her slim body, he was instantly aware of her lithe figure. He had to be crazy. That was the last thing on earth he needed right now. Or any time, come to that, considering who she was.

He gritted his teeth and concentrated on moving one step at a time toward the cabin, which loomed up slowly in the darkness. Only a few more yards to go. He was practically carrying her now, and he was worried she’d give up altogether before they made it to their broken-down shelter.

“Hang on, it’s not much further,” he muttered, trying to form the words between harshly drawn breaths. His legs felt as if they were weighted down in lead boots. His back ached and his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth to stop them chattering. He longed for a shot of double-malt scotch, and could almost feel the heat of it coating his stomach. That was only one of the things he’d have to do without, he thought grimly.

At long last, he reached the front steps of the cabin and could release his heavy load. “Well, Annie,” he said, forcing an enthusiasm in his voice he was far from feeling, “it looks like we made it.”

“Thank God.” She was panting, and her words came out in little spurts. “I don’t think I could have gone another step.”

Brad eyed the cabin with a dubious frown. The windows were cracked and layered with dust, and the roof probably leaked. Its primitive walls, fashioned from logs, looked sturdy enough, however, and would give them shelter until help arrived. He had no doubt that at least for the time being, the most sensible thing to do was to stay put and wait for the rescue squad.

It wouldn’t be a picnic, by any means. His companion was as prickly as a porcupine, and made no secret of the fact that she considered him too low to lick her boots. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold his temper in the face of such undisguised contempt. He just hoped that he could hang on to his sense of humor, and that they wouldn’t kill each other while they were waiting.

Anne sank down onto the creaking wooden step and buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t have gone another step. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Brad’s arm supporting her, she wouldn’t have made it this far.

She owed him a lot. The thought didn’t help her mood any. He was bound to be insufferable about it when this was all over.

“How are you doing?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice. “I’ll be fine when I’ve had a chance to rest.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable.” He rattled the handle of the door. “First we have to find a way inside this shack, then we have to find some way to build a fire.”

“Wouldn’t that be breaking and entering?” She looked warily at the battered windows. “What if the owner comes back in the morning?”

“We’ll welcome him with open arms.” He shook his head at her, spraying fine drops of water from the melted snow in his dark blond hair. “This is survival, Annie. The owner will understand that.”

“What if he’s in there, sleeping?”

“Then he’s deaf.” Brad moved over to a window and ran his fingers along the edge. “I pounded the heck out of the door on my way down.”

She stared at him as a thought occurred to her. “Why didn’t you break in then? Why did you keep going instead of waiting out the storm in here?”

He kept his face hidden from her as he examined the window. “I was looking for you.”

She felt a jolt of surprise. “You mean you didn’t just stumble across me by accident?”

“Well, I have to admit, there was a certain element of luck to it. I lost sight of everyone when the first wave hit. I got thrown around a bit and when I surfaced I saw your broken ski. I figured you couldn’t be too far away.”

She frowned. “How did you know it was my ski? It could have been anyone’s. It could have been your girlfriend’s. Where is she, by the way?”

“What girlfriend?”

“The giggling redhead making a fool of herself out there with you.”

He glanced at her. “Oh, you mean Marlene. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just someone I got paired up with for the midnight run.”

“How convenient for you.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

Anne pretended to be examining her injured ankle. “She was a little hard to miss, considering the way she was falling all over you.”

“Jealous?”

She managed a scornful laugh. “The only thing I’d be jealous about is if she’d made it down the mountain and was lying in a comfortable bed in the lodge.”

“Which is probably where she is right now. The last I saw of her she was heading through the trees well out of the way of the avalanche.”

“Well, good for her,” Anne muttered.

“Which is why I knew the broken ski didn’t belong to her. Besides, only a Parker would have custom-made skis in hot pink.”

“Only an Irving would make such a big deal about it.”

Her comeback was lost as Brad straightened with a satisfied grunt. The window emitted a loud crack and creaked open.

“You didn’t break it, did you?” Hanging on to the wall, Anne hauled herself to her feet.

“Nope, so you can stop worrying about the owner suing us. It wasn’t even locked, just frozen shut, which is the way we’re going to be if we don’t get a fire started soon.”

Anne watched as he poked his head inside the window, then heaved himself over the sill and climbed inside. Within seconds he opened the door.

Doing her best to disguise her limp, she stepped over the threshold into the damp, musty darkness of the cabin. The beam from Brad’s headlamp had weakened considerably when he directed it around the confined area.

There was enough light for Anne to make out the woodstove in the middle of the room and the rickety-looking cot tucked into the far corner. Apart from that, there appeared to be no other furniture, except for a small square table and a couple of cheap wooden chairs. She couldn’t really see thick cobwebs hanging in the corners, but she had no doubt they were there.

“Not exactly Club Med, is it?” Brad murmured.

If her spirits hadn’t been at an all-time low, then, Anne might even have smiled at that. Right then, however, she couldn’t see much to smile about. The cabin felt almost as damp and cold as the air outside, and smelled of mold and wood smoke.

The narrow cot seemed to be the only bed available, and the only covering was a ratty looking blanket folded at the bottom of the thin mattress. A cell in Alcatraz would have been more comfortable, and as if that wasn’t enough, she had to spend what was left of the night there with Brad Irving, of all people. All in all, the year was ending on a pretty dismal note.

“First thing we’d better do is find wood for a fire.” Brad flicked the beam of his headlamp over Anne’s boots. “How’s the ankle?”

Still smarting from his assessment of her dubious athletic abilities, Anne lied. “It’s fine.”

“Good. I’ll get the wood. No sense in both of us going out there again. You can stay there on that cot until I get back.”

The last thing she wanted was to be left alone in the cold darkness of that awful cabin. It would, however, give her a chance to rest her ankle. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to offer her help. “It might be easier if we both went.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t want you wandering off and getting lost in the dark.” He pointed to his head. “This is the only light we have left.”

He made it sound as if she’d lost her own headlamp on purpose. Annoyed, she glared at him, though she could barely see his face. “I wish you would stop treating me as if I were helpless. For your information, I’ve been camping in the wilderness before, and I grew up skiing on these mountains. I’m not totally clueless about the outdoors.”

The irony in his voice was hard to miss when he answered her. “Right. My guess would be that your idea of camping is an air-conditioned trailer, complete with TV, and I’m willing to bet you’ve spent more time in the lodge than you have on the slopes.”

Damn him, he was right. According to her sisters, Brad had spent at least two summers backpacking in the high country and one camping in Alaska during his college years. Until now, the closest she’d come to actually roughing it was a canoe trip on a quiet stretch of the Colorado.

The door creaked open, letting in a blast of cold air. He paused in the doorway, silhouetted against the snow-laden branches of the trees outside. “Just stay put until I get back. That way you won’t fall over anything.”

Closing the door behind him, he left her frowning in the cold, damp darkness of the cabin. He talked as if she were a prize klutz. As if it were her fault the avalanche had thrown her into a ravine. And if he didn’t quit with the patronizing she was going to hit him over the head with his precious headlamp.

She waited awhile, sitting on the edge of the cot until her temper cooled, and she could think straight again. Across the room she could just make out some shelves on the wall, and something faintly gleaming in the light reflected by the snow outside.

Deciding to investigate, she tested her weight on her injured ankle. The pain made her wince, but it wasn’t enough to prevent her from limping across the room. As she approached the shelves she caught sight of something hanging on the wall next to them. Her spirits rose considerably when she realized it was an oil lamp, and there were actually matches sitting in the saucer.

She pulled the lamp from the wall, and shook it, half expecting it to be empty. The sound of oil swishing around inside reassured her. The matches were damp, but she finally got one alight and seconds later a soft glow lit up the room.

Just having enough light to see made her feel warmer, even though her teeth refused to stop chattering. She pulled off her hat and tucked it in her pocket, then inspected the items on the shelves. An aluminum bucket sat on one end, next to a cooking pot and a frying pan. The plastic mugs and plates had the patterns worn off them, but were otherwise clean and serviceable. Several spoons stood inside one of the mugs and much to her delight, she discovered a jar of dried soup mix and another full of rice, tucked behind a large, slightly rusted can of cocoa. There were even a half dozen toilet rolls still in the original wrapper. Things were beginning to look a little less bleak.




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