Page 67 of K-9 Prime Target

“I’ve had years to think about it.” He leaned toward her. “When I first saw you all those years ago on television, I felt the connection between us. When I finally got to see you in person I knew we were destined to be together. We’ve been together in at least six past lives that I can determine. The problem back in Lake Placid was that I was too eager and I tried to rush things. I promised myself I wouldn’t make that mistake again. All I needed was to get you alone somewhere and help you remember what I already know—that we’re already one in our hearts.”

She stared, struggling to keep her emotions from her face. He truly believed what he was saying, and somehow that made him more dangerous. She wasn’t going to be able to convince him he was wrong. He was never going to willingly let her go.

She realized he was waiting for her to say something. “That’s a lot for me to take in,” she said. “It’s, uh…a reality I hadn’t considered before.”

“But you’re considering it now, right?” His eyes held a manic brightness. “You see how much sense it makes.”

“I’m too tired to make sense of anything right now,” she said. “I’d really like to go to sleep. We…we can talk more tomorrow.” As long as they were talking, he wasn’t hurting her. At least, for now.

“I’m pretty worn out myself,” he said. “You haven’t made it easy for me, but I knew if I kept after you, we would be together eventually.” He stood and retrieved a plastic garbage bag from the corner. From this he pulled sleeping bags and blankets. “We can sleep together,” he said. “We can keep each other warm. And once we have sex, you’ll remember how closely we’re bonded, I’m sure of it.”

She forced herself not to shrink from him, to adopt a coy expression. “I really think it would be better to wait for that, don’t you?”

“I’ve waited years for you.” Some of the hardness returned to his voice.

“Yes, but if we’re going to be married—shouldn’t we wait for our wedding night?”

“You didn’t wait with that Irishman. You were sleeping with him, weren’t you?” His face flushed, anger flaring in his eyes.

“Yes, but he wasn’t the person I’m destined to be with.” She struggled to keep her expression soft and a little dreamy. “The kind of relationship you and I will share needs to be special. Sacred.”

Even saying the words made her feel sick, but she was trying everything she could think of to win this man over.

And it seemed to be working. The anger went out of his expression. “You’re right. What we’ll have will be special. It needs to be consummated someplace special, too.”

“Yes. Someplace very special,” she agreed.

He spread one of the sleeping bags on the floor in front of the fire. “You can sleep here,” he said. “And I’ll be right next to you.”

She lifted her manacled wrist. “Will you unchain me? Please?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. You need more time to accept our fate, and I’ll sleep better knowing you’re secure.”

The chain had enough slack she could stand and possibly lie down. But she was desperate to get him to unlock it. “I really have to go to the bathroom after that hot chocolate,” she said.

He scowled. She waited.

“All right,” he relented. “But I’ll go with you. And don’t try anything.”

“I’d be really stupid to try to go anywhere in this dark and cold,” she said, as he unlocked her restraint.

And it was cold. The below-freezing air hit her like a blow to the chest, and she gasped. “Hurry up,” he said. “I want to get back to the fire.”

He led her to the shadowy area behind the cabin. She moved a couple of feet away and fumbled with the fly of the insulated pants. He looked away, being polite, she supposed. She took her chance and raced into the darkness.

Chapter Eighteen

Liam glided past the first building before his brain registered it as such—four walls with a window and a door, but no roof. Just beyond was the leaning remnant of a second cabin, a rusting iron stove squatting in front. He slowly turned, taking in the rest of his surroundings—rusted ore cars and cable, the remnants of stone foundations and piles of timbers, and twisted railroad track curling up to the air like reaching fingers. This must be an old mining settlement. He’d seen plenty of photos of similar ruins in the area.

Then he spotted the snowmobile. It was parked in front of a cabin set apart from the rest. Unlike most of the other ruins, this cabin was relatively intact, with a rusting metal roof and cardboard blocking the single front window. A faint, flickering light showed through cracks where the chinking between the logs had fallen away. A lantern? Or a fire. A fire, he decided. Now that he was closer, he definitely smelled woodsmoke.

For a moment he forgot the cold or fatigue. This was where Nicholson had taken Nina. She was either in that cabin or very nearby. She had to be. And Liam wasn’t going to leave until he found her.

Suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was here in the open in the brilliant moonlight, he skied to the shadow of one of the other cabins and studied the occupied building more closely. The only window was blocked, the single door closed tightly. But gaps of several inches in some places between the logs should make it possible to look inside. Moving stealthily, trying to always keep other structures or objects between himself and the line of sight of anyone inside the cabin, Liam moved closer. Now that he was traveling at a slower pace, the cold was seeping in, but he forced his mind away from his own discomfort. He had to save Nina.

Finally he was right at the cabin wall, one hand braced on the rough surface of the weathered logs. He bent and put one eye to a gap between the logs. Two stumps sat on a dirt floor, inches from a small fire that burned in a stone fireplace. A pile of blankets or maybe sleeping bags were heaped between the stumps, but he saw no people. He shifted position to look in another direction and spotted a black trunk, a ski helmet and a half a dozen split logs in a neat pile against the wall. There was no sign of either Nina or Nicholson.

“Nina! Nina Marie!”