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“Hey, she’s not kidding,” Pat added, as the plane rolled to a stop some twenty-fi ve feet from the van. “They’re both certainly easy on the eyes. Check out the legs on the brunette.”
“Hush, you,” Linda said, poking Pat good-naturedly from the neighboring seat. “You’re taken, remember?”
“Oh, I certainly remember, darlin’. No harm in looking.” Pat leaned over to plant a quick kiss on Linda’s cheek as the pilot got out of his seat and maneuvered through the narrow aisle to the door at the back next to Megan.
After he deployed the stairs, the women began fi ling out of the plane.
O
Chaz watched the clients emerge, making no immediate move toward the plane. The fi rst one off, a handsome and butchly older woman with a short, severe haircut, sent her gaydar pinging off the scale. Her suspicions were confi rmed when the woman paused at the bottom of the steps to offer an assisting hand to a petite woman with long, curly brown hair and was given a quick peck on the lips in thanks.
They waved to the guides but remained by the plane for their bags, which the pilot had begun to unload from a compartment in the wing.
The third to disembark was a striking young woman—tall and lean, with dark spiky hair, chocolate brown eyes, and the kind of androgynous appeal that could melt men and woman alike. She wore tight black jeans and a matching T-shirt, and she didn’t take her eyes off Chaz as she bounded down the steps and headed directly for the two guides.
“Well, well, well …” Sally said under her breath as the woman approached. “See what I mean about how the registration forms don’t tell you everything?”
“Elise Webber,” the woman introduced herself as she extended a hand toward Chaz.
“Chaz Herrick,” she responded as they shook. “Welcome to Winterwolf.”
Elise’s grip was fi rm and reluctant to immediately disengage.
They looked at each other for a long moment, openly appraising each other with knowing smiles.
• 33 •
KIM BALDWIN
“ Very pleased to meet you, Chaz.” Elise gave Chaz’s hand a fi nal squeeze before fi nally releasing her grip and turning to acknowledge the other guide.
“Sally Travis,” Sally said with undisguised amusement as they briefl y shook hands.
“Hi, Sally. Well, better get my bag.” Elise walked away with a sexy sway in her hips, and Chaz couldn’t help but appreciate the woman’s effort to get her attention.
All the clients were now busy retrieving their luggage, except for one, who stood off to the side, preoccupied with the phone in her hand, her back to the guides. Megan Maxwell, Chaz decided, taking in the woman’s clothes. She was dressed head to foot in brand-new gear, from her North Face jacket and L.L. Bean clothes to the tips of her shiny, right-out-of-the-box hiking boots. Those boots could be trouble.
Obviously got them mail order. A good salesman would have warnedher to break them in.
“Sure looks to be an interesting group. Here we go,” Sally said, as the two guides pushed off the van and headed toward their clients.
“You owe me big for this,” Chaz muttered under her breath.
“You know how I hate this schmoozing part.” It wasn’t that she was antisocial by any means. But she was always a bit uncomfortable in the beginning, having to make polite small talk with strangers. It was much easier once the ice was broken, and the trip got underway.
O
Damn thing. We’re not even out on the river yet. Megan frowned at the no-signal display once more before she shoved the BlackBerry into her coat pocket.
“Have you gotten a good look at our guides, Meg?” Justine’s voice, subdued from behind her, alerted Megan that something was amiss.
“What? Why?” She turned and peeled off her sunglasses, glancing fi rst at Justine, who had the oddest expression on her face—then at the two strangers who were approaching.
Both women were fi t and athletic, she could see that at fi rst glance, which was not unexpected. The blond in the lead looks a little likeHelen Hunt, Megan thought, and the one behind her. Her mouth hung open in shock, and she could feel the color draining from her face. It
• 34 •
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