Polar Bared by Eve Langlais Page A

pitch-black unrelieved by even the twinkle of a single star.
    I’m alive. But in whose hands she couldn’t tell with the blanket draping her head. Given the kind gesture, though, meant to keep her from frostbite, she could guess.
    Gene. A guess confirmed with a quick glance. No mistaking his broad back or the odd tingling awareness she got when around him.
    He’d prevailed over the attackers, once again her hero, even if a reluctant one.
    She stayed nestled in her cocoon, not ready to move yet, not with her mind trying to come to grips with the fact the killers weren’t after Gene. They were after me!
    Someone wanted her dead. Me. Victoria Lola Sanchez, who never had an enemy in my life, unless you count Wendi in the third grade because I spilled my grape juice on her new dress. Other than some inadvertent clumsy accidents, Vicky had never done anything to merit someone wanting to kill her. So she had to ask again, why?
    It didn’t take her long to guess, thanks to Rick. Dear departed Rick who’d said on more than one drunken occasion the only reason he’d married her fat, boring ass was because she was loaded.
    Someone wants my money. Great. Greed probably served as the motivation, but greed on whose part? An only child, an orphan since her late teens, and a widow, who would benefit if she died?
    I don’t even have an updated will. The last one she had notarized left everything to Rick. What would happen to her assets if she were to die now? Did Rick have some kind of distant cousin who thought he’d inherit? Did she have some until now unknown family member just waiting to get their hands on her inheritance?
    “I know you’re awake,” Gene said out of the blue, his voice loud enough to carry even over the rumble of the snowmobile.
    “No, I’m not,” she replied, intentionally this time, with a smile he couldn’t see.
    “How are you feeling?”
    Good question. She sat up and took stock. Other than a stiffness in her joints from lying in the sledge, “Pretty good. Just a bit sore.”
    “I’ll stop in a bit so we can eat and stuff.”
    And stuff being an uncomfortable squat in the snow to pee while he stood guard. Cheeks burning, she kicked snow as best as she could over it, which for some reason amused him.
    “Hiding it doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there,” he remarked.
    “A gentleman wouldn’t mention it.”
    It didn’t take his leer to guess his next words. “I’m not a gentleman, Pima.”
    No, he certainly wasn’t. Nor a shining example of a hero with his foul language. Certainly not a valorous knight with his habit of killing people. And yet, Vicky couldn’t help but trust and like him, despite his flaws. Beneath the irritable loner hid a good man, one who wouldn’t let her come to harm, who put his life on the line for her.
    Oh my god, I’m like a cliché. Chubby nerd girl falls for violent bad boy.
    How exciting.
    “What’s got you grinning?” he grumbled, having caught her mid fantasy.
    “Uh. Well. I was just thinking—”
    “Sounds dangerous.”
    She blinked in surprise. Had Gene actually made a jest? “I was thinking, that um, maybe we should camp for a few hours, you know so you can get some sleep. You must be tired.”
    “Why, Pima, are you trying to get me in the sack?”
    Her cheeks could have boiled water with the heat infusing them. “No. Of course not.” Although the thought might have crossed her mind. But how could he have guessed that?
    A short laugh barked forth from him as he caught sight of her in the glare of the snowmobile headlights. “Holy shit, you’re blushing.”
    “Am not,” she mumbled.
    “Liar,” he chided.
    “It was just a suggestion. Sorry I made it.”
    “Actually, I think stopping is a good idea. This stretch between here and the border to Alaska can prove treacherous. I’d rather navigate it by daylight in case we run into trouble.”
    “You think there might be more of those guys still after us?”
    “Yes.”
    She gasped.
    “Not