KILLER COMPETITION

A champion ski jumper, Nick Walsh wants one thing: to win the gold for his late brother. Nick has always blamed himself for his family’s tragic loss—and so does everyone else. To complicate things, sweet and shy reporter Julie Frost insists on doing a story about him. But as Nick gets closer to achieving his dream, someone will do anything to stop him. Somehow, Nick must keep Julie from getting too close as they confront a threat that can destroy them both. Julie and Nick are on the verge of discovering the truth about his brother’s death…unless an unknown murderer finds them first.

“You never married?” Nick asked.

Julie’s gaze dropped to her hands. She fiddled with the pen. “No. Never found the right guy.”

He’d struck a nerve. Which made him more curious and stirred an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. Had someone hurt her? “I remember in high school you didn’t date.”

He’d chickened out and hadn’t asked her to homecoming their junior year. Of course that was before he’d had his talk with Dad and realized falling in love, making a commitment, meant giving up on his dreams. Something he had no intention of ever allowing.

“I didn’t date in high school because no one asked,” she said.

“If you drop this whole interview thing, we could go on a date.” It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. Dating did not equal commitment.

“You promised to tell me why you have a bodyguard,” she said briskly. “And why did you think the ambulance crash wasn’t an accident?”

So much for dating her. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”

TERRI REED

At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Love Inspired Books. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA® Award finalist and a 2005 National Readers’ Choice Award finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five in the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award, and Her Christmas Protector took third place in 2008. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.

You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280. Visit her on the web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com, leave comments on her blog, www.ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com, or email her at terrireed@sterling.net.

Treacherous Slopes

Terri Reed

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.

—Psalms 37:4

Thank you to my family for always believing in me, Leah Vale for keeping me from embarrassing myself, and my editors for all the support and encouragement.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

“Welcome to this evening’s segment of Northwest Edition. I’m Julie Frost reporting to you live from the annual Festival of Snow in beautiful Bend, Oregon. It’s a crisp Friday night and a perfect way to start the weekend. The festival is proud to host the U.S. Aerial Freestyle National Championship. Excitement is in the air.”

Julie kept her gaze on the round, black lens of the handheld camera in front of her. The temperature had dipped below ten on this January evening. Though she’d lived in central Oregon all her life, she couldn’t remember it being this cold. Her smile felt frozen in place, like her toes. She should have worn thicker socks. Or boots made for the cold, not fashion. The station stylist had insisted the pink boots matching the pink ski suit completed the outfit. She felt like a big, pink lollipop. The price she paid to be on camera. She refrained from stomping her feet and settled for wiggling her freezing toes. It didn’t help.

“As you can see around me, quite a crowd has turned out for the festivities.”

She paused as Bob, her cameraman, panned the area, giving their viewers at home a glimpse of what they were missing. The Festival of Snow was held across the Deschutes River from the Old Mill shopping center. The mill with its three towering smoke stacks had been converted into a popular sporting-goods store and provided the anchor to the center. On this side of the footbridge, along the river path, white tents and canopies gave local vendors and artisans warm, dry places to show off their wares while local eateries tempted festivalgoers with tasty treats. A live band played in the amphitheater opposite the wooden structure erected for the skiing competition.

Every year more and more tourists traveled to the mountain oasis to attend the annual festival celebrating the best of winter in Oregon.

When the lens focused back on her, she smiled and raised her voice. She hoped the viewing audience was able to hear her over the cheers of spectators waiting for the aerial freestyle skiers to take to the ramp.

“Tonight’s competition is a precursor to the upcoming winter games. Athletes will compete for points as well as a cash purse of twenty thousand dollars. Points for each jump will be added to the skiers’ total season score. Names of the team members representing the U.S.A. at the winter Olympic games will be announced in one week. That will give the athletes two weeks to prepare before traveling to this year’s games host city, where they will represent the U.S.A. and compete for gold, silver and bronze.”

Julie’s gaze slipped to Bob. He nodded encouragingly and made a rolling motion with one hand, letting her know to keep stalling as they waited for the first skier to take his jump.

“Behind me is a specially constructed snow ramp known as a ‘kicker.’ The skiers will perform two jumps consisting of single or multiple somersaults with or without twists. Each jump must vary by one somersault or one twist. Points are awarded for takeoff, form in the air, difficulty and landing.”

Bob motioned with his hand, indicating the competition was starting.

Bubbles of excitement knocked against her ribs. Though she wasn’t daring enough to ever try aerial freestyle skiing, she certainly enjoyed watching. It took a risk-taking, adrenaline-junkie personality to pursue a sport where you launched yourself off a fourteen-foot-tall ramp, performed flips and twists fifty feet above the ground, and then landed upright on a steep incline.

Unfortunately, Julie was drawn to that exact type of man. Drawn to and burned by them. She’d had her fill of men who lived life on the edge. Her ex-fiancé had been that sort of man. Only trouble was John Mateo hadn’t limited his risky behavior to sports. Thankfully, she’d found out before she’d married him.

Never again would she allow herself to get swept into a relationship with an adrenaline junkie. Next time around—if there was a next time—she wanted stable and steady. Until then she would focus on her career.

Her first step had been convincing her boss at the television station to give her a shot at moving up from production assistant to on-camera personality. The second step had been successfully pitching the idea of a feature story on one of Bend’s local heroes, aerial freestyler Nick Walsh, to her boss. He’d said yes. Then she’d contacted Nick’s biggest sponsor, Thunderbird Ski Equipment and Apparel, figuring the best way to gain access to Nick would be through his sponsor. The head of the locally based sports company had enthusiastically embraced the idea and looked forward to the promotional aspects of the story. Now all she had to do was put together an excellent story and she’d be given the promotion she craved.

To the camera she said, “Hometown favorite Nick Walsh is taking his position.”

When the camera swung away to zoom in on the tall, broad-shouldered skier readying himself at the top of the ramp, a flare of feminine awareness made a joke of her being career-focused. And worse yet, there was so much more to Nick than his good looks.

With a shake of her head, she reminded herself what the story was as the camera came back to focus on her. “Early last year calamity struck the Walsh family when Cody Walsh, Nick’s younger brother, had a horrible accident during a practice and died.”

Her heart ached for the family. She remembered Cody as a sweet kid who worshipped his older brother.

“The Walsh brothers were taking the aerial freestyle world by storm and were poised to vie for gold against each other as well as the world’s top aerialists. Many people speculated Nick wouldn’t continue to compete when he dropped out of sight for several weeks after the tragedy.” One of the topics she planned to cover later when she interviewed him.

“However, Nick did return to compete and is leading in men’s aerials.” Recalling the phone conversation she’d had with Nick’s manager a few hours ago, she said, “According to Nick’s manager, Gordon Lewis, Nick will be performing a new trick for us tonight. One he hopes will take him all the way to gold in the biggest competition of his life!”

A roar for the hometown favorite went up from the crowd. Even as a kid, Nick’s one and only passion had been skiing. He’d had his eyes set on winning gold one day. This could be his year.

Bob pointed toward the ramp.

Julie turned to watch, stomping her feet to stay warm, her gaze riveted to the skier waiting to take off. Walsh wore the U.S. team’s bright blue-and-red ski suit. Though she couldn’t see his face, she had no trouble remembering his vivid blue eyes, thick dark hair and strong jawline.

They’d grown up together, attended the same school and church all the way through to graduation. While she’d been the geeky girl who sat in the front of class, he’d been the one everybody gravitated to at the back. The guys tried to emulate him and failed; the girls vied for his attention and failed. Including her.

She doubted he’d remember her at all.

* * *

Nick Walsh flexed his legs, readying his muscles. He took deep calming breaths. The crowd’s roar of expectation lifted on the chilly evening air. Floodlights illuminated the smooth ramp and pooled in a bright circle highlighting the landing track and outrun twenty feet below. A wiser man would resist the urge to scan the crowd for a glint of steel, the small black hole that would put him out of his misery once and for all.

But he wasn’t wise.

However, he was definitely unnerved.

This morning he’d received a menacing note—letters cut from a magazine to form three words—TIME TO DIE.

After the failed attempt on his life a few months ago, it was little wonder he was edgy.

A flash of color snagged his gaze. A woman stood slightly apart from the rest of the onlookers. Dressed from head to toe in neon pink, she looked like a highlighter except for a long blond braid draped over one shoulder. He blinked and forced himself to focus, which took all his mental prowess considering the death threat looming in the shadows like a mountain lion that roamed the Cascades waiting for an opportune moment to pounce.

Tonight was about testing out a new trick. And moving closer to achieving his goal of medaling in the upcoming games. For Cody.

Nick’s heart twisted in his chest.

He concentrated his energy into the moment, blocking out the noises of the spectators and the grief that stabbed at him with each breath. Blocking out the fact that he was back home in the place where his dreams of gold had been born. Blocking out the knowledge that his parents wouldn’t be among the audience watching the competition. They still blamed him for Cody’s death.

His jaw clenched. He blamed himself.

“Go!”

Heart pumping with adrenaline, Nick pushed off. Pointing his skis down the inrun slope, he picked up speed. He needed to reach thirty miles per hour for optimum liftoff. He approached the kicker. He had to hit it just right to get the height required to perform the quad back, double twist. Wind whipped over his helmet, whistling through the facemask. Keeping his gaze focused upward, he lifted his arms overhead to elongate his body, increasing his rotational inertia by moving more of his weight away from his hips and allowing for more flipping power.

The approach was perfect.

Wait. Something didn’t feel right. His left boot slipped slightly against the toehold.

Someone had messed with his ski and loosened the binding. Sabotage!

His stomach clenched with anticipation and dread. He forced himself to remain calm. He could pull this off.

He hit the kicker and pushed off, soaring high into the air. Momentum carried him up and backward. The blur of stars in the clear night sky appeared like a comet’s trail. He arched and gyrated his hips in a hula type move, beginning his first back twist.

His left ski detached from his boot, hitting his arm. Pain ricocheted through the bone. Shock seized his lungs.

The sensation of flying that normally brought him joy sent a shaft of terror shredding through him.

A ripple of panic snatched his breath.

“Help me, God!”

Forget about keeping his body in alignment for the judges. He focused his gaze on the ground, estimating the distance. This wasn’t the first time a trick had gone wrong.

He prayed it wouldn’t be his last trick ever.

He had to land this in one piece. An injury could knock him out of the competition. He didn’t want to wait another four years for the opportunity to go for gold!

He raised his arms overhead to slow his momentum. Pain screamed down his left side from the point of impact with the ski. He elongated his frame, keeping his knees soft and braced himself for the ground.

He hit the landing track with a jarring thud. For a heartbeat, he thought he’d maintain his upright position on the one ski. Then he tumbled, head over end, landing with bruising force against the track and sliding rapidly toward the barrier of the outrun. He curled to protect himself and hit the barrier like a ball bouncing off pavement.

The air left his lungs in a gush and stars danced before his eyes.

He prayed his dreams of gold weren’t dead like his brother.

* * *

Shrieks of horror splintered the air. Nick’s unattached ski flew into the bright orange safety net. He lay in a heap, butted up against the outrun barrier. The cries of the spectators echoed through Julie, heightening her own shock. Reality TV in the flesh.

“Lord, please don’t let him be dead.”

She did not want to gain ratings by streaming live the death of one of Oregon’s—and the country’s—favorite skiers. What would this accident to do his chances of competing in February? Would an injury force him to wait four more years or take him out of the running for gold forever by ending not only his career but also his life?

Sympathy and dread knotted her stomach.

Uniformed people and other skiers rushed to Nick’s side.

Bob’s hand gripped Julie’s elbow. “Come on, get in there.”

She blinked, letting his words sink in. Right. She had a job to do. Shaking off the shock, she pushed her way through the crowd. “Excuse me. Let us through.”

She reached the barrier and flashed her press badge to the man guarding the makeshift gate. He pulled aside the wire mesh so she and Bob could move closer to where Nick lay on the ground. Even though they weren’t on the mountain, two Mt. Bachelor ski patrols wearing black snowsuits with bright white crosses on the shoulders attended to Nick. One checked Nick’s vitals and the other positioned a toboggan so they could lift him onto the sled.

Julie inched closer but was halted by a large muscled man in a black ski suit. “Stay back, ma’am.”

As she peered around the man, dread curled in her belly. She hated seeing anyone hurt, let alone someone she knew.

Nick moaned and rolled onto his back.

Julie breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Whoa! Slow down,” one of the ski patrol said.

“What happened?” Nick asked, coming up on his elbows.

“You took a nasty spill,” Julie answered. The pressure in her chest eased. He hadn’t broken his neck like his brother. Though she hadn’t witnessed Cody’s fatal accident, the stories of the event painted a harrowing tale.

Nick reached up and pulled his goggles down past his chin so they hung around his neck. “Do I know you?”

Her heart did a little leap. She smiled but was prevented from answering when the ski patrol stepped between them. “Sir, we’re going to lift you onto the toboggan and take you to the clinic tent while we wait for an ambulance.”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Nick!” A tall man wearing a long wool coat over a double-breasted suit and wing tips shoved his way through the crowd. “Are you hurt? Oh, man, tell me you’re not hurt!”

“No, I’m good,” Nick said and sat up.

“Sir, please, let’s get you onto the toboggan,” the ski patrol insisted.

Waving off the guy, Nick said, “No way. I can go on my own two feet.” He rolled to all fours and then rose.

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

Nick wobbled. Julie reached out to steady him, along with everyone else. “Stubborn man,” she muttered.

He grinned at her. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“You need to be checked out ASAP!” the well-dressed man exclaimed, looking a little green. “You can’t have an injury this close to the games.”

“I’m fine. Relax,” Nick insisted.

“I won’t relax until the doctors say you’re fine,” the man shot back.

Two skiers, wearing ski suits matching Nick’s, positioned themselves on either side of Nick. The Thunderbird logo graced the back of Nick’s ski suit, distinguishing him from the other two. The muscled man in black fell in step behind them.

“Come on, dude,” the guy on the right said. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”

They half carried him toward the Mt. Bachelor medical clinic tent set up nearby.

Julie blinked and forced herself to remember why she was there. She turned to face Bob and stared into the camera. “Nick Walsh, ladies and gentlemen. Undoubtedly one of the best aerial freestyle skiers in the country. Not many people could have dropped fifty feet in the air and walked away to ski again.”

She prayed that last bit was true. The country was counting on him doing the U.S. proud by medaling.

“Come on,” she said to Bob and followed Nick toward the urgent-care tent.

“Nick!” a woman in the crowd called out. “Nick, are you okay? It’s me, Kitty.”

Nick didn’t acknowledge the female’s cry.

Julie wasn’t sure which of the numerous women pressing up against the barrier had called out. A girlfriend?

“Get a shot of the crowd,” she instructed Bob.

As soon as he finished panning the crowd, she hurried around the corner of the urgent-care tent. She hustled so she was in front of Nick and his entourage.

Nick stopped, forcing his companions to do the same. “Jules, is that you?”

Surprise, closely followed by pleasure, rushed through her, heating her cheeks. “Hey, Nick.” She gave herself a mental shake. Do your job! She thrust the microphone toward him. “Do you know what went wrong?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “That wasn’t meant to be a monoskiing trick.”

“Any idea why your ski came off?”

He tried to sidestep by her, his expression darkening. “I have ideas.”

Frustrated that he wouldn’t share, she moved into his path. “Will you be doing a second run?”

“No, I won’t tonight.” He zigged to go around her, taking his buddies with him.

Disappointed he wasn’t giving her more, she zagged.

His blue eyes flashed with annoyance, but his smile stayed in place.

“We’re glad you weren’t hurt,” she stated into the microphone.

“Me, too.” He tried again to move past her.

Knowing she’d have his attention during the interview and she wouldn’t be so easily dismissed, she acquiesced and stepped back. “I’m looking forward to interviewing you later.”

His smile faltered. “No interviews.”

“Nick Walsh. What a kidder you are!” she quipped into the microphone, trying to salvage the live shot and keep it on a positive tone.

Staring at his retreating back, Julie pressed her lips together. The interview had been arranged. She’d been assured Nick would cooperate. Obviously he hadn’t been informed yet.

Gathering her composure, she plastered on a smile and turned back to the camera. “Exciting turn of events tonight at the Festival of Snow. But thankfully Nick Walsh is unharmed. I will be interviewing him later for a special segment of Northwest Edition. Stay tuned.”

Julie made a cut motion with her hand, indicating for Bob to cut the feed, then ducked through the tent flaps. Inside the clinic tent, welcome warmth seeped through her, making her limbs tingle. There were several screens lined up to cordon off makeshift exam rooms.

A woman seated behind a table glanced up. “Can I help you?”

“Nick Walsh.”

“Excuse us!” An elderly man elbowed his way past Julie. “My wife is having trouble breathing.”

The woman jumped up and came around the table to help the man with the pale older woman. “Let’s get you settled over here.”

She glanced distractedly at Julie and pointed toward the farthest screen.

“Your husband’s behind curtain number three.”

Julie drew back. “Oh, I’m—”

The woman turned her back, cutting Julie off as she led the older couple toward an exam table.

Julie hesitated for a moment, not comfortable letting the woman believe she was Nick’s wife, but seeing no opportunity to correct her, she walked away in search of Nick.

Voices raised in argument directed the way. She stopped just inside the screen barrier.

“I didn’t pass out,” Nick said, his voice raspy with irritation. He’d removed his goggles and helmet and sat on an exam table. Though he looked older than the last time she’d seen him in person, he was still handsome, even when pale and grouchy. “I had the wind knocked from me, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the well-dressed man insisted. “You’re going to the local hospital for a head scan. The doctor agrees. He’s arranging it now.”

“I don’t need the hospital!”

“We already know he’s not right in the head,” said one of the skiers who’d helped him from the arena. He had blond hair badly in need of a trim and a scraggly beard that was so popular with guys under thirty.

“The scan will only prove it,” the other skier, who had light brown hair and brown eyes, joked.

“What are you two still doing in here?” the well-dressed man snapped. “Get out there and do your jumps. I can’t have all three of you out of the competition!”

Slipping past Julie with curious glances, the two skiers beat a hasty retreat.

Nick shrugged out of the top layer of his ski suit. A dark purple bruise covered his left arm starting below his elbow, spreading up his biceps and disappearing beneath his Dri-FIT T-shirt. Julie gasped at sight of his injury.

The big man in black, who had his back to her, swiveled and blocked her path.

Nick’s eyes widened. “No, it’s okay. Let Jules through.” Then a slow smile curved his mouth. “I never turn away a beautiful woman. Especially one in head-to-toe pink.”

Heat crept into her cheeks, but she refused to respond to his comment.

The well-dressed man moved closer to inspect Nick’s bruised skin. “Is your arm broken? Please tell me it’s not broken. You can’t compete with a broken arm!”

“No, it’s not broken,” Nick said, bending his arm on a wince. His gaze zeroed on his manager. “Gordon, you need to find the ski—” Nick flicked a quick glance at Julie. He seemed to hesitate a moment before saying, “Check the binding.”

“Is that what caused the ski to fall off, a faulty binding?” she asked.

Gordon stared at her for a moment as if just noticing her. “How did you get back here?”

“It’s been a long time, Jules,” Nick said, drawing her attention. He held his injured arm close to his body and looked as if he were about to topple over.

Concerned, she moved to sit next him so she could grab him if he pitched sideways. “Yes. Yes, it has.”

“You two know each other?” Gordon asked, his gaze bouncing between them.

“Yep. Grew up together.” Nick grinned.

She held out her hand to Gordon. “Julie Frost, Northwest Edition.”

Dawning realization widened Gordon’s hazel eyes. “Right.” He shook her hand. “Gordon Lewis, Nick’s manager. We spoke earlier.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Northwest Edition?” Nick asked. “As in the TV show?”

“I’ve been working there since college,” she said, which was technically true. She didn’t mention her official job title was production assistant. If all went well with the story on Nick, she’d be hosting her own segment by the end of the month.

“So Jules, how did you get back here?”

She grimaced guiltily as she answered Nick’s question. “The woman manning the table out there thought I was your wife.”

His eyebrows twitched. “Not that I wouldn’t mind, but you’re a reporter. I’d never date, let alone marry, a reporter.”

Bristling, she stared at him. “Excuse me?”

A doctor wearing a white lab coat over ski pants entered with a wheelchair. “Mr. Walsh, a transport will be here shortly to take you to St. Charles Memorial Medical Center.” He moved to inspect Nick’s arm. “Let’s get an X-ray of your arm,” the doctor said. “In the chair, please.”

Julie stepped back as Gordon and the doctor helped Nick into the wheelchair. The doctor rolled him out of the exam room, the big guy in black following closely behind. Julie figured he must be event security.

She turned to Gordon. “What will happen if there is a break in his arm or the CT scan shows a brain injury?”

“There would be no possibility of competing in the upcoming winter games.” Gordon ran a hand through his hair, clearly freaked out by Nick’s close call. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re so close.”

“It’s been a hard year for Nick,” Julie stated quietly.

His weary gaze met hers. “For us all, Ms. Frost.”

“If Nick is knocked out of the running for a spot on the U.S. ski team, who do you think the committee would choose?”

Gordon shrugged. “There are thirteen skiers from the B and C teams ready and willing to step into his place on the A team, including the two skiers who were just here. And more behind them that would jump at the chance to be invited to join the U.S. ski team.”

Julie ached for Nick. She could only imagine how devastated he’d be if an injury this close to the games took him out of the competition.

“I take it you didn’t tell him about the interview,” she said, still smarting by Nick’s comment that he wouldn’t date or marry a reporter. Not that she wanted to date him—or marry him—but still...

Gordon winced. “I didn’t have time. But I will, once we know he’s okay.”

She let out a dry scoff. “I get the distinct impression he won’t be pleased.”

“Probably not, but he’ll do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“What does he have against reporters?”

Gordon sighed. “After the way the media smeared Cody’s reputation with nasty accusations about drugs and alcohol usage causing his death, Nick’s not too trusting of the press.”

A twinge of unease twisted her tummy.

She hadn’t believed the reports of drug use leading to the accident that took Cody’s life and had thought the media storm had been unfair to a man who wasn’t there to defend himself.

It was important she convince Nick not to paint her with the same brush. Her promotion, her career, rode on his cooperation.

But did she have the skills necessary to succeed?

TWO

The doctor returned without Nick. Julie’s heart leaped to her throat. “Is Nick okay?”

Nodding, the doctor said, “There’s no fracture. Only a bruise, but that will heal over time. The transport’s here. The ski patrol is getting him onboard. Are either of you going with him?”

“I am,” Gordon stated.

Seeing an opportunity for a moment alone with Nick to pursue her story, Julie tapped Gordon on the shoulder. “Your other skiers need you.”

Gordon hesitated, clearly torn between his duty to Nick and his duty to his other clients.

“I’ll go with Nick,” she offered. “You come to the hospital as soon as you can. There’s nothing you can do for him right now anyway. Right?”

Clearly relieved, Gordon said, “I’d appreciate it. I’ll okay it with the EMTs. If Nick gives you any hassle, you tell him I said don’t.”

After hastily explaining to Bob where she was going and having his assurance he’d follow in the news van, Julie rushed to the ambulance. Since Nick wasn’t critical, only one EMT was present for the drive to the hospital. She climbed into the bay of the ambulance and sat on the metal bench.

The big guy in black stopped in the doorway. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Nick lay on the gurney. He blinked at her. “Yeah, what are you doing?”

“Filling in for Gordon. He needs to stay for your buddies.” She directed her answer to Nick rather than to the security guard.

“Mr. Walsh?” Big guy’s tone held a note of displeasure.

“It’s fine. Sit up front, Ted.”

Ted gave her a censuring look before closing the back bay doors.

“Why is event security going to the hospital with you?” Julie asked.

“He’s not with the event. He’s my personal security,” Nick answered.

Her interest piqued, she asked, “Personal security? Like a bodyguard?”

“Yes. Lots of athletes hire personal protection. Fans, you know.” He slanted her a glance. “I’m sure he’s not happy with you back here.”

“You don’t need to worry, I won’t bite,” Julie teased.

One corner of Nick’s mouth twitched. “I might.”

“I don’t think you’re in any shape to be a threat to me.”

“You never know.” He closed his eyes for a moment. His jaw tensed. “I wish the doc could have given me something for the pain.”

“He didn’t because they need to know if you’re loopy because you smacked your head, not because of meds.” She couldn’t resist smoothing back a lock of his dark hair from his forehead.

His eyes popped opened, his expression inscrutable.

Afraid of making the wrong move and messing up this opportunity, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her pink ski jacket. “Your arm’s not broken, which is good.”

As if she’d picked back up some sort of gauntlet she’d thrown down between them, he closed his eyes again and sighed. “Hmm, hmm.”

For a long moment, the sound of the ambulance’s tires crunching over the gravel put down on the roads to provide traction filled the bay. Julie was content to look at him. She hadn’t seen him in the flesh since high school graduation. And even then it had been from a distance.

“You look good,” he said, startling her. “Great smile. No more braces.”

“I haven’t had braces since I was fifteen.” Was that how he remembered her?

“Hmm. Long time ago.”

When she didn’t respond, he opened one eye. “You’re still here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled and closed his eyes. “I meant Bend.”

“Yeah, well—”

“Hey! Watch out!” Ted yelled from the front of the ambulance.

The ambulance veered sharply. The tires squealed. Julie yelped as the force of the sudden swerve pitched her forward. She landed sprawled across Nick’s chest.

His uninjured arm came around her back, holding her tight. “Steady now.”

Gripping the sides of the gurney, Julie lifted her head, her face inches from his. “What was—”

“Hang on!” the EMT driver shouted.

The vehicle decelerated rapidly.

The force of the unexpected speed change threw Julie forward again until her face was buried in the crook of Nick’s neck. His good arm pinned her to his chest. The ambulance came to a sudden halt, the sound of crunching metal echoing in her ears. The contents of the ambulance rained down on them.

“Mr. Walsh!” Ted’s frantic cry pierced through the echo of the crash ringing in Julie’s ears.

She lifted her head and stared at a wide-eyed Nick. “You okay?”

“Yes. You?”

“I think so.”

Every point of contact between her and his muscled chest and strong arm registered in her stunned brain. Warmth crept up her neck and flooded her face.

“You sure? You look a little rattled,” Nick said. “Like you could use some reassurance.”

“Yes. What? No, I—”

The back bay doors flew open. Julie jerked upright, pushing herself off Nick.

Ted loomed in the doorway. “Mr. Walsh?”

Nick lifted his head. “We’re good in here.” His gaze narrowed with a hard glint. “What happened?”

“Idiot driver cut us off. We hit a patch of ice and slammed into a telephone pole.”

“You think it was an accident?” Nick asked.

Julie slanted Nick a curious glance. Why would he think it wasn’t?

“Can’t be sure. Guy didn’t stop.”

Nick dropped his head back. “Get us out of here.”

“On it, sir,” Ted said and closed the doors.

“What’s going on?” Julie asked, feeling as though she’d somehow stepped in the middle of a scene without a script.

Nick closed his eyes. “I’ll explain later. Provided I make it to the hospital in one piece.”

“You will,” she promised and pushed his hair off his forehead again, feeling protective and attracted all at the same time. And why not? The man was gorgeous.

Granted, as a kid he’d always been cute, with his hair flopped over his forehead in a sort of roguish way that had made more than one young girl’s heart flutter.

Okay, her young heart.

The man before her was even more handsome than the boy he’d been. Time and years spent outdoors had etched lines on his face that enhanced his rugged good looks, making him appear mature and wild at the same time.

And yes, sent her adult woman’s heart pounding.

So not the appropriate reaction to be having for the subject of the story she wanted to tell. She would not, could not, let the attraction flaring within her have any room. He was so far from the type of man she needed in her life. Most important, if she wanted that promotion, she needed to put anything other than professionalism in a tight box and stuff it deep down in a place where it wouldn’t interfere with her career goal.

Only trouble was she had a feeling being the perfect professional would be easier said than done.

A second ambulance arrived and Nick was transferred to the back. At the hospital, Nick and his guard went with the medical personnel. Julie was stopped at the swinging doors.

“Are you his wife?” a nurse asked. “Or sister?”

“Friend.”

“Sorry, family only,” the nurse said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “You can go to admitting and they can let the patient know you’re here.”

Waiting wasn’t Julie’s biggest strong suit, but she had no choice. She quietly prayed that the tests would come back negative. It would be a horrible shame if he wasn’t fit to compete in three weeks.

Bob appeared at her side and took the seat next to her. “Are you okay? I was following the ambulance when it crashed.”

“A little shaken up,” she replied. “Did you see what happened?”

“Yeah, that car passed me and then cut in front of the ambulance. Next thing I know the ambulance is swerving and bam, into the pole. I got some footage of the banged-up ambulance and of them transferring Nick to the second ambulance.”

She bit her lip. Knowing how Nick felt about the press, she doubted he’d be okay with them airing the videotape. But it would add so much to the feature. Injured skier’s ambulance crashes. The public would go nuts for it. Especially with the film of Nick’s ski accident and him getting to his feet to walk away from the crash. It would build him up even more as a legend and hero to the American people. And if—when—he won gold next month, it would be even better.

Deciding whether to use the film or not would be a bridge she’d have to cross eventually, but for now she’d say a prayer for Nick’s health and hope that when the time came to make that decision it would be easy.

Bob chitchatted with her about mundane matters as they waited. She appreciated his calming presence. Ten years older than she, Bob had taken her under his wing when he found out she had aspirations of being on camera. He’d worked with her, getting her comfortable in front of the lens.

He’d become a good friend. They made a good team.

An hour later, Gordon joined them in the waiting area.

Julie set down the magazine she was reading and stood. “Have you seen him?”

Looking tired and worn, Gordon said, “Yes. The docs are done. There was no sign of a brain injury.”

Julie let out a little sigh of relief. “Have you contacted his parents?”

“Yes. I let them know he’s fine.”

“I’m sure they’re relieved. Can I see him?”

“As soon as the neurologist cleared him, they gave him something for the pain. He’s a bit groggy. They’ll release him in a bit.”

Julie glanced at Bob. He pointed to his camera. She read his message clearly. He wanted to film Nick in his room. It would add a nice dimension to what they already had on tape. She turned her attention back to Gordon. “Could we get a little footage of him in his hospital bed?”

Gordon frowned. “Not right now. Maybe when he wakes.”

“I’ll be here.” Resigning herself to waiting, she sat back down as Gordon returned to Nick’s room.

“I’m going for coffee,” Bob said. “Want some?”

“Please.” She settled back to look through another magazine. “If I’m not here, come find me in Nick’s room.”

He saluted and sauntered off with his camera, which he never let out of his sight.

A few minutes later a woman took a seat a couple chairs away from Julie. She was pretty with dark hair and dark eyes and held a gift-wrapped box in her hands. Something about her seemed familiar, but Julie couldn’t place from where. She exchanged a smile with her and went back to reading.

A nurse stepped into the waiting area.

“Are you here to see Nick Walsh?”

“Yes,” Julie said.

“Yes,” the brunette said at the same time.

The nurse looked as confused as Julie felt. Eyeing the brunette closely, Julie realized why she’d recognized her. She’d been the one calling out to Nick after his crash.

“Uh, tell me your names and I’ll let him know you’re both here,” the nurse said, clearly uncomfortable letting two women in to see Nick when he was only expecting one.

“Julie Frost.”

“Kitty Rogers,” the brunette stated. “He’ll see me.”

Julie arched an eyebrow at the woman’s certainty. Clearly she had some claim on Nick. Something unpleasant stirred in Julie’s tummy. She mentally stopped herself in her tracks. She needed to remain professional. Knowing he had a girlfriend would help to keep her own feelings in check. She would never poach another woman’s man.

Even if that man had had the starring role in her girlhood daydreams.

* * *

Nick shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed. Though he appreciated the excellent medical care he was receiving from Bend’s premier medical center, he wanted to be back on the slopes hitting the kicker, not confined to an eight-by-ten room with linoleum floors, stucco walls and the smell of antiseptics filling his head.

The memory of the fresh floral scent of Julie’s perfume tightened his gut. She’d smelled like a warm, sunny spring day.

Julie.

The image of a pretty blonde danced through Nick’s mind. She’d been Julie Tipton when he’d known her. Man, she’d blossomed, becoming a beautiful woman sans the glasses or the braces he remembered. She’d always been the quiet, studious type. Not the kind to go into show business.

She’d saved his bacon a few times in high school when he’d asked her for help with his English assignments and his math homework. The girl had been wicked smart. Now she was a newshound. A reporter. Go figure.

Distaste coated his mouth. He didn’t like the press. Didn’t like the way they sensationalized or capitalized on every aspect of his and his fellow athletes’ lives, the good and the bad. Whatever would generate ratings was fair game.

Just look at the way they’d sensationalized Cody’s death.

Familiar pain and grief welled until he thought he’d drown.

Gordon entered his hospital room. Tight lines of concern bracketed his eyes and mouth. “Doc says you’re A-OK. They’ll release you in few hours.”

“Sweet.”

“We have a lot riding on you being fine,” Gordon reminded him.

We being Gordon and the sponsors backing Nick. The biggest of which was an international company with its headquarters in Bend and named after one of the runs on Mt. Bachelor. The CEO of Thunderbird had supported Nick even after Cody’s death last year and had continued to provide financial support during the weeks when Nick was too grief stricken to train, let alone compete.

Nick owed them big-time.

And he always repaid his debts.

“Ted tell you about the ambulance ride?” His heart thumped remembering the chaos. And Jules. The smell of her hair, the way her bright blue eyes had flared with first shock, then concern and finally awareness before she’d shot away as though she’d been burned.

“He did. He gave the police a good description of the car.” Worry darkened Gordon’s hazel eyes. “I don’t like this.”

“You and me both. Whoever sent that threatening note is going to a lot of trouble to hurt me.”

“That’s why it’s important Ted stay close,” Gordon said. “And that you cooperate and let him do his job keeping you safe.”

Nick had every intention of staying safe and alive.

“Hey, there’s something else I need to tell you,” Gordon said.

“They found the ski?” Nick asked.

“Yes. Given the circumstances, the local police have taken charge of it and sent the ski to the crime lab for inspection.”

Nick’s fingers curled into a fist. There was no doubt in his mind this hadn’t been an accident but another attempt on his life.

“But that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” Gordon said, drawing up a chair to the bedside. “The local lifestyle TV show Northwest Edition is going to do a feature piece on you.”

Nick drew back. “Excuse me?”

Gordon held up his hands like brackets on a marquee. “Local Hero Comes Home for Anniversary of Brother’s Death.” He shrugged and lowered his hands.

A knife twisted in Nick’s gut. “I will not use Cody’s death to bolster my career.”

“Not just your career. Thunderbird wants the exposure. They are fully on board with Ms. Frost’s idea for a feature story on you. This will be good exposure for them.”

Nick snorted. “Great. And if I refuse?”

“You can tell Lucas Davenport.” Gordon took out his cell phone. “You want me to get him on the line?”

As much as it galled him, Nick shook his head.

Gordon put his phone back in his pocket. “Northwest Edition wants to do a human-interest story. Their reporter, Julie, is a sweet gal and easy on the eyes.”

“Jules is great,” Nick said, figuring better the enemy you know.

“Tell me you didn’t break her heart.”

Nick scoffed. “Naw. Nothing like that.”

She’d been out of his league then. Now she was just plain dangerous. A reporter. His mind struggled to wrap around the concept.

Gordon rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Local girl, local guy. It’s all good.”

Gordon was always working the angles. “I don’t know about this.”

“I worked out a deal with the station manager that we reserve the right to edit the piece or scrap the whole thing if it doesn’t meet with our approval. Does that help?”

A small consolation. One he could live with. “I suppose.”

“Good. She’s waiting to come talk with you,” Gordon said. “I told the nurse to give me ten minutes and then send her in.”

Nick wasn’t surprised to hear she was still at the hospital. She wanted her story. “Oh, by the way, Kitty followed me home to Bend. I saw her in the crowd tonight.”

Katherine “Kitty” Rogers, a ski groupie, had been hounding him for the past year. When she’d first starting hanging around the competitions, making it clear she was there to see him, he’d been flattered. Amused, even, the first two or three times she appeared in the crowd. But then it started to creep him out. Last month she’d gone so far as to find his hotel room in Colorado and wait outside his door. She’d made it clear she was willing to be more than just an adoring fan. There was something slightly off about her that made him wary.

Gordon wrinkled his nose. “She’s your biggest fan.”

“She’s taking it to the extreme.”

“Excuse me.” The nurse stood in the doorway. “There are two women waiting to see you, Mr. Walsh. A Julie Frost and a Kitty Rogers.”

Of course Kitty was here. Nick nearly laughed at the irony. “Send in Jules, not Kitty.”

The nurse nodded and retreated.

“And the hits just keep on coming,” Nick commented dryly.

A few minutes later Julie knocked on the door frame.

“Come on in.” Nick drank in the sight of her. The pink color of her outfit heightened the rosy hue of her cheeks and brightened her crystal-blue eyes. Her sleek blond braid made him wonder if she was as tightly coiled. What would she do if he reached out and undid the band holding the strands together?

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” she said, moving farther into the room.

“Much, thank you.” He didn’t like being in such a vulnerable position, trapped in bed wearing a hospital gown and totally at a disadvantage with a lovely lady.

“There’s a woman out there waiting to see you,” Julie said. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” Nick said quickly and exchanged a glance with Gordon.

Gordon stood. “Here, sit. I’ll take care of that situation.”

Nick sent Gordon a grateful nod. He hoped Gordon would be able to send Kitty on her way. There was something in the woman’s eyes that gave him the same feeling that had seized him when his boot had shifted in the ski binding today.

Julie took a seat and pulled out a notebook from the big flowered shoulder bag that she dropped at her feet.

So she wanted to get down to business. He watched her slender hands flip open the pad, her pen poised. There was a noticeable lack of a wedding ring. Curious, he asked, “Where’s Mr. Frost tonight?”

Julie grinned. “Afraid he’ll come storming in, jealous over me being at your bedside?”

“I like to be prepared.”

She laughed. “Frost is my stage name. Rolls off the tongue better than Tipton. There’s no mister attached to it or me.”

“You never married?” He’d figured she’d have found some intellectual at the fancy college she’d surely attended and be happily married by now.

Her gaze dropped to her hands. She fiddled with the pen. A shadow crossed over her face. “No. Never found the right guy.”

“Too picky?”

Her gaze shot up to meet his. Indignation flared in the light blue depths. “No. That’s not it all. Why would you say that?”

He’d struck a nerve. Which made him more curious and stirred an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. Had someone hurt her? The thought didn’t settle well. “I remember in high school you didn’t date. I figured you were holding out for a brainiac like yourself.” At least that was what he’d told himself when he’d chickened out and didn’t ask her to homecoming their junior year. Of course that was before he’d had his talk with Dad and realized falling in love, making a commitment, meant giving up on his dreams. Something he had no intention of ever allowing.

A rueful twist touched her mouth, drawing his gaze again. “I didn’t date in high school because no one asked.”

He felt like a heel. “I should have asked you.”

She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I would have liked that.”

“If you drop this whole interview thing, we could go on a date.” It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. Dating did not equal commitment. At least not to him, which was why he rarely dated.

She inhaled sharply. “That would be like asking me to stop breathing, Nick.”

“Good thing I know CPR.”

She rolled her eyes. “You promised to tell me why you have a bodyguard,” she said briskly. “And why did you think the ambulance crash wasn’t an accident?”

So much for dating her. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”

THREE

Julie’s jawed dropped. She snapped it shut as his words reverberated through her brain. Someone was trying to kill Nick?

Her mind reeled. First his talk of dating if she’d drop the feature on him and now this? Nick’s story was bigger than she’d ever imagined. Her mind popped with questions. “Why would someone want to kill you? Who wants to kill you? What’s happened that would lead you to believe that?”

“Whoa.” Nick held up a hand. “Slow down. Shouldn’t you be waiting for me to answer one question before you throw me another?”

Her face flamed. “Of course. Yes. Sorry. You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

He touched her arm. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

She took in a shuddering breath to calm her racing heart.

“Better?”

“Yes.” She poised her pencil over the pad of paper. “Okay. This is huge, Nick. Where’s Bob and his camera?” She tapped the pencil against the pad. “I’d like to get a shot of you here in the hospital, if you’d be comfortable with that.” From the appalled look on his face, she guessed he wasn’t. “Okay, scratch that idea.”

“Please do. In fact, let’s call the whole interview off.”

She searched his face, trying to decide if he was serious. His jaw was set. His eyes flinty. Yep, he was serious. “But we can’t. Surely you understand that.”

He shook his head. “I’m not thrilled about being the subject of your interview.”

“But you will go through with the interview, right?” She hated how desperate she sounded.

His dark blue eyes narrowed. “Why is this so important to you?”

Should she tell him what was at stake? She didn’t want to sound whiny or pathetic, but if he understood that her shot at becoming an on-air reporter hinged on how well she delivered this story for Northwest Edition, then maybe he’d cooperate. She didn’t have anything to lose except her pride.

“This is my first big break. I went out on a limb and pitched this idea for a feature on you to my boss in hopes of securing a permanent on-camera spot. I can’t afford to keep working there if I don’t get this promotion.”

“So what is your actual job now?”

“I’m a production assistant.”

“Ah, okay.” Nick repressed the chuckle that bubbled up. No wonder she’d been nervous and overly enthusiastic with her questions. And why she needed the promotion. He doubted being an assistant paid that well. “I’d like to help you, but...”

She sat forward. “Mr. Davenport at Thunderbird was excited about the idea. He said he wanted to make new skin designs for your skis and to unveil them live during the segment.” Her voice rose slightly. Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip.

His gaze landed on her mouth. She’d always had perfectly shaped lips. Soft and supple. Kissable. He remembered thinking that in high school. Of course back then her lips had been devoid of lipstick. She’d never been one to wear all that stuff on her face the way most of the teen girls did.

Her lips parted slightly, making him aware he’d been staring.

He could tell this meant a lot to her. But the anger he’d felt over the media raking Cody through the mud grated something fierce.

She reached to touch his hand. Sympathy tinged her gaze. “I was sorry to hear about Cody’s accident. I sent flowers.”

Nick’s breath hitched. Grief stabbed him. He fought the burning behind his eyes. The place where her fingers rested lightly on his hand created a hot spot, distracting him from the pain stirred up by her words. He hadn’t known she’d sent flowers. Of course, he hadn’t really been aware of much at the time. “That was thoughtful of you.”

A commotion outside the door drew his attention away from the pretty lady sitting beside him.

Ted blocked the doorway.

“But I want to see him!” said a female blocked from Nick’s view.

He didn’t have to see the woman to recognize Kitty’s voice. She was making a scene and disturbing the peace of the hospital. Nick winced. He’d thought Gordon was going to deal with her. Obviously he hadn’t been successful.

“That other woman was allowed in,” Kitty shrieked. “Nick! Nick, tell this man to let me in.”

“Who’s she?” Julie asked in a whisper.

“A fan,” Nick said. He sighed. Thinking of the other patients, he called out, “Ted, it’s okay. I’ll see her if it will make her stop fussing.”

Ted glanced over his shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“Why not? Let’s just add to my humiliation.”

Julie gave him a chiding look as Kitty barged into the room, carrying a small, wrapped present. She was an attractive woman with dark hair curling around her impish face, wide dark eyes, red lips and a Marilyn Monroe–type mole at the corner of her mouth. He wasn’t sure if the detail was real or for effect. She had on well-worn jeans and a red sweater that emphasized her assets. But to Nick, Kitty was a dark shadow compared to the shimmering lightness of Julie. The two couldn’t have been more opposite in looks or personality.

“Hello, Kitty,” Nick said, trying hard to keep his irritation from showing. “What are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly and shot Julie a curious glance. “You know I come to every one of your competitions that I can. I’m so excited to see your hometown. You gave me quite a scare today. I thought for sure you were going die when that ski flew off.” She moved to wedge herself in front of Julie and put one hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“As you can see, alive and well.”

“Then why are you in the hospital?”

“Observation. I’ll be leaving soon.”

She thrust the gift at him. “I brought you something.”

He didn’t take it. “That’s thoughtful, but you shouldn’t have. Really, you shouldn’t have.”

A steely glint flashed in her eyes. “It’s for you.”

Apparently she wasn’t going to let him refuse. He took the present and quickly unwrapped it to reveal a money clip engraved with his initials and a note telling him where she was staying. As if he’d ever take her up on her propositions. He tucked the money clip back in the box. “Thank you, Kitty.”

Julie cleared her throat.

Nick gave Julie an apologetic grimace. “Julie, this is Kitty Rogers. A fan.”

Kitty’s fingers dug into the top of his shoulder. “His number-one fan.”

Julie’s speculative gaze bounced from Kitty to Nick to the hand on his shoulder and back to Kitty. “I can see that.” She stood and held out her hand, forcing Kitty to relinquish her hold on his shoulder. Nick gave Julie a grateful smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Julie said.

“What are you doing here?” Kitty asked with barely veiled jealousy.

Julie opened her mouth to respond, but Nick jumped in. “She’s with me.” He reached past Kitty to take Julie’s hand.

Two sets of eyes blinked at him.

“I am?”

“She is?”

He squeezed Julie’s hand, hoping she’d go along with the ruse. He needed Kitty to back off. He didn’t want her attention. And faking a girlfriend might just be the ticket to sending Kitty scurrying back to Idaho, where she’d come from. “Julie and I are rekindling our relationship.”

* * *

Julie choked at Nick’s words and wished she had a drink of water to wash away her surprise. Nick’s eyes implored her to confirm his statement.

The need to back him up compelled her to admit, “We are old friends.”

Kitty’s eyes narrowed. Shockingly obvious anger flared in the dark depths. “Nick and I are friends, too.”

Sensing how uncomfortable the woman was making Nick, Julie sought to defuse the situation. Most people wanted their fifteen minutes of fame, and Julie counted on Kitty to be no different.

Julie smiled sweetly. “Kitty, I work for Northwest Edition, a weekly lifestyle television magazine, and I’m doing a piece on Nick. And because you are his self-professed number-one fan, I’d love to interview you.”

For a moment uncertainty crossed Kitty’s face, then slowly her demeanor shifted and excitement built in her eyes. “You want to interview me? On TV?”

Ignoring Nick’s sudden coughing fit, Julie kept her voice smooth. “Yes. I’d love to have your take on Nick’s career and the upcoming games. Nick will be competing in the fiercest contest of his life. I want to explore all the facets of an elite athlete. Including the fans. Maybe you could give me some insight on what it’s like to be such a devoted fan?”

Kitty practically glowed. “That would be super.”

The possessive-woman bit fell away. Kitty appeared younger than Julie had originally thought when she’d forced her way into Nick’s room. Julie slipped a card out of her purse and handed it to Kitty. “Here’s my card. Call me and we’ll set it up.”

“Thank you.” Kitty hugged the card to her chest. “Isn’t this fabulous, Nick?”

“Fabulous,” he repeated dully.

“I can’t wait to tell everybody.” Kitty hurried away.

Julie wondered who everybody was.

“Why did you do that?” Nick asked the second Kitty disappeared out the door. “Don’t encourage her.”

“It will be fine,” Julie assured him. “It will give her an opportunity to talk about you. And she might have some useful insight. Maybe even have some ideas of who would benefit with you out of the way.”

“I can name a hundred aerial freestylists who’d benefit, but not one that I could point a finger to and say they’re the type to go to those lengths.”

She shrugged. “If nothing else, interviewing Kitty will give her something else to focus on.”

His intent gaze met hers. “And you’ll say we’re in a relationship if she asks?”

“If you’re doing the interview, then we have a working relationship,” Julie stated.

She could see him debating with himself. Finally, he said, “Good enough. Maybe she’ll back off.” He visibly relaxed. “I owe you.”

She smiled. “Then you’ll talk with me.”

“Talk? You don’t want to talk, you want to dissect me like we did those frogs in biology class.” He held up a hand. “Oh, wait. I did the dissecting. You couldn’t watch.”

Her nose wrinkled up. “I still can’t look at a frog without gagging.” She suppressed a shudder. “You were my hero that day.”

An answering grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You did turn a nasty shade of green, like I’d never seen before or since.”

“Not my finest moment.” But it had been worth it since she got to spend time with him. He’d sat in front of her in class. Most days all she saw was the back of his head. But that day...she’d been the envy of the other girls in class when Nick had turned around and asked her to be his partner.

She held his gaze and something indefinable passed between them. A shared past, memories of simpler days. The longing to go back to those days grabbed ahold of her as she lost herself in the blue depths of his eyes. Was that same yearning there in his gaze?

“Wouldn’t you rather tell your story to me than someone who doesn’t care about you?”

His eyes widened. “You care?”

She touched his arm. “Of course I care. You’re a big deal in this town.”

“Right.” He tapped a finger against his lip as he contemplated her. Finally, he let out a short laugh. “I’m nuts to agree to this. But you’re the only reporter I would ever trust.”

Gratified and hoping that his words were a forecast of a successful promotion, she sat in the chair. “You won’t regret it.”

“We’ll see.”

“Are you always so skeptical?” She hadn’t remembered that from when they were young. She’d considered him to be one of the most laid-back and driven people she knew. The dichotomy was what made him so interesting.

“I’ve become more so,” he stated.

“Mr. Walsh, this man says he’s with her,” Ted said from the doorway.

Seeing Bob over Ted’s shoulder, Julie said, “That’s right, he is.” She stood. “I should let you get some rest.”

He reached for her hand again. “You don’t have to run off yet.”

His warm palm pressed against hers, making her feel connected to him. She swallowed back the jolt of yearning that grabbed her by the throat. She wanted to feel connected, to be a part of a couple. Had thought she’d found that sort of connection with John, but he’d proved less than trustworthy. She wasn’t ready to put her heart on the line again. Especially not with Nick.

Flirting came naturally to a guy like him and meant nothing. She had to remain unaffected by his charm and charisma. She quickly extracted her hand. “It shouldn’t be too long before you’re released. Besides, Bob is my ride. I can’t ask him to wait around.”

“We’ll drop you off when I’m released,” he said. “Or rather, Gordon will since he’s the one with the wheels.”

As tempting as it was to stay, she shook her head. She needed to keep her perspective. Theirs was a business relationship. She had to remember that and act like the professional she wanted to be. “No. I need to go. I’ll be in contact with Mr. Lewis so we can set up a time for you to come to the station for the interview.”

His mouth twisted in a rueful way that she found appealing. “You can call me directly. In fact, why don’t you come by the motor home tomorrow? You can see how I live when I’m on the road.”

Excited by the unexpected invitation to visit his home on wheels, she couldn’t help but beam. “That would be great. I’ll make sure Bob’s free.”

Nick’s gaze went to the doorway, where Bob waited, and back to her. “Sounds good.”

Was that disappointment in his eyes? Couldn’t be.

Suddenly reluctant to leave and half afraid he’d change his mind about the invitation tomorrow, she dug out one of her cards and wrote her cell number on the back.

“Here.” She thrust the square piece of card stock at him. “Call me with a good time for us to come over.”

He took the card, his fingers brushing over hers, setting off little sparks shooting up her arm. She released her hold and backed away. Time to beat a hasty retreat before her resolve to keep their relationship strictly business weakened.

* * *

With Julie’s departure the room seemed duller and the hospital more oppressive. Nick stared at her business card. It read, “Julie Tipton, production assistant for Northwest Edition” and had the call letters of the local affiliate television station. He turned the card over to where she’d written her number in a neat script.

He still couldn’t believe it. Julie. Shy, sweet Jules had blossomed into a beautiful, ambitious woman. A reporter. Wannabe. Which made her worse. No doubt she’d do whatever it took to make her story. Including dragging Cody back through the muck.

When she’d said she cared, his heart had sped up, but then she’d clarified that it was because “he was a big deal in this town” and his stomach had dropped as if he’d caught a tip. She was no different than anyone else. He was a ticket to ride. A commodity to exploit. And she wanted her piece.

He couldn’t work up the usual animosity he felt when thinking about the press, though. Julie had had his back with the Kitty situation. Even going so far as to prevent a scene by asking Kitty for an interview.

This was one debt that he unexpectedly didn’t mind paying.

* * *

The next morning, Nick stepped out of the motor home onto the snow-covered ground and filled his lungs with crisp mountain air. The scent of pine teased his senses.

After giving an acknowledging nod to Ted, who’d been waiting outside the door for him, Nick lifted his gaze, drawn by an invisible cord to the snow-capped peak of Mt. Bachelor. The playground of his youth.

The Oregon mountain, part of a string of volcanoes making up the Cascade mountain range, was home to some of the Pacific Northwest’s best skiing. It was on these picture-perfect slopes that Nick had learned to ski, learned to love and learned to grieve.

A familiar wave of sorrow and guilt washed over him, bowing his shoulders slightly and making the pressure build in his chest until he thought his ribs would collapse. He forced himself to breathe. His arm throbbed in tempo to the beat of his heart. He sent up a silent thank-you to God that all he’d suffered yesterday was a bruise. He hoped God was listening, because he was going to need His protection.

Whoever wanted him dead had failed this time.

Nick shuddered with certainty that there would be more attempts.

So far the police had had no success finding out who wanted to kill him or why.

Nick had to stay strong and focused. He was so close to realizing the dream he and his younger brother, Cody, had worked their whole lives toward.

Only Cody was gone now. A year ago this coming Thursday. His parents had a one-year anniversary memorial service planned—the reason Nick was staying in town instead of returning to his condo in Lake Placid to await the announcement of who had been chosen to compete in the Winter Games.

Nick hadn’t been home since the funeral, because he couldn’t bear to see the anguish on his mother’s face or the sadness in his dad’s eyes.

He’d worked hard this year once he’d gotten his head back in the game after Cody’s death. Nick had thrown everything he could into each competition, winning or placing high enough that even without scoring at last night’s competition he had earned enough points to qualify for the U.S. team traveling to the games.

He wanted to win gold for Cody.

Nick had a good shot at securing one of the four positions on the U.S. men’s aerial team. But so did the other ten U.S. competitors who’d qualified to make the team, including both of his traveling companions.

And Cody would have been among them, too.

The door to the motor home opened behind him and Lee Thompson stepped down and clapped Nick on the back. “Forget your way?”

“Naw, just taking it in.” The parking lot adjacent to the West Village Lodge was busy with skiers arriving for a day of fun on this beautiful late-January morning. The sun shone like a bright ball in the clear blue sky and fresh powder dumped sometime in the night glistened in the sun’s rays. Perfect conditions for a day on the slopes.

Lee stretched, lifting his arms high and letting out a noisy yawn.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Nick stated, noting the dark circles under his teammate’s brown eyes.

“Can’t waste a beautiful day sleeping.”

Lee and Frank had returned to the motor home long after Nick was released from the hospital. The two buddies liked to find the nearest hot social spot and unwind after competing. Nick had always preferred some alone time after a competition.

“You know you and Frank can head back to Lake Placid anytime,” Nick said.

Now that last night’s qualifier was done, the two men had no reason to stick around Bend.

Lee shot him a sharp look. “We’re here for Cody’s memorial, too.”

They’d loved his brother, as well.

Nick’s heart spasmed in his chest.

Cody’s death shouldn’t have happened. Nick should have prevented Cody from taking that last run.

Despite the way the press had raked Cody’s reputation across the coals with accusations and insinuations, Cody had not been high or drunk. He’d been tired and trying a trick that got away from him.

The burn of anger smoldered in Nick’s gut any time he thought about the way the news reporters had spun Cody’s accident into something sordid, leaving a taint of speculation blanketing the tragedy.

The image of a blue-eyed blonde marched into his mind. He blew out a breath. He had to trust that Julie would not be made of the same ilk.

“Uh-oh. Sheeee’s baaaack.” Lee’s singsong tone drew Nick’s attention.

“Who?”

Mirth danced in Lee’s eyes. “Your number-one fan.”

She was like a bad penny, showing up unexpected and unwanted.

It occurred to Nick that Kitty’s presence had precipitated the last attempt on his life. And she was here now.

Was she somehow involved?

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