Page 107 of Coordinates of Death

He didn’t pull away.

His lips grazed hers. Gentle at first. Tentative, as if asking for permission.

Aurora fluttered her eyes shut and answered his silent question without words, letting the kiss deepen. She wanted this. Needed this.

He cupped her face, anchoring her as his minty breath mingled with hers, refreshing and alive.

Aurora wrapped her arms around him, joining their heartbeats as their world stopped. Everything disappeared.

No missing women. No serial killer. No dangerous games.

Only them.

He released her and rested his forehead against hers but remained silent, as if not wanting to break the special bond.

Aurora realized then that in every storm they would encounter, they’d do it together. As one.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you leaning on your cruiser the day you picked me up.” Kordell kissed her again.

And again.

She giggled. “How can you be even more handsome today than you were as a teen? I gotta admit, when I first saw you across the street all those years ago, I wanted to kiss you then.”

He chuckled.

Aurora hated to break the moment but had to. The clock was ticking, and Ginny required her help. “We have to keep moving.” She pushed herself upright.

Kordell did the same but held his ground close to her. “Agreed, but remember what I said. I’m here for you.” He kissed her again.

“Stop doing that, or we’ll get nothing done.” She strapped on her backpack.

He raised his hands. “I’ll be good. Let’s go.”

They exited the cave, the snow and wind greeting them at full force.

“It’s getting worse.” Kordell tightened the scarf around his neck.

“Have I said lately how much I hate winter?”

“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that one. It’s my favorite season.”

The old saying opposites attract pummeled Aurora’s mind. A kiss doesn’t mean he’ll stick around, Rory. After all, he had a life in Banff, not the Yukon. “You should live here, then.”

“Maybe I will.” He winked and ducked under a snow-laden branch.

If only.

Thirty minutes later, after several encounters of treacherous terrain, Kordell fisted his gloved hand and raised it.

Aurora halted.

A low growl rumbled a few short yards away from them.

The sound pierced through the wind, echoing off the trees. It wasn’t a wolf’s howl or an owl’s call—something rawer. Almost human.

Aurora froze, the hairs prickling on her neck.

Kordell glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “Lynx.”