Stevie Lee Read Online Free Page A

Alaska. He’d learned one thing from that venture—never trust an alpine tent built by someone who lived in a desert.
    “It’s nothing personal.” Her soft reassurance broke into his thoughts.
    “Nothing personal?” He jerked his head up, his voice rising to an incredulous pitch. “A woman I don’t even know wants me dead, and it’s nothing personal?”
    “I didn’t want you dead. Lost worked out just as well.”
    He was lost all right. “What in the hell did I ever do to you?” he asked, dumbfounded.
    “Nothing, but lost . . . or dead . . . you’re worth about seventy grand to me. On the hoof you’re worthless.”
    Hal slumped back on his bar stool. Worthless? Well that was a fine how-do-you-do from a woman he’d saved from the clutches of a big hairy ape. “You beat all, lady. You really beat all.”
    “You asked.” She shrugged and set another beer in front of him, but Hal wasn’t at all sure he wanted it. “Go ahead. It’s safe. I wouldn’t do you or anybody else in for money. Not even seventy thousand dollars.”
    Seventy thousand dollars? The thought wrinkled his brow. How could he possibly be worth that kind of money to anyone—dead or alive? Hell, he’d probably have to pay somebody to take the damn truck off his hands, and the only other thing he owned in the whole wide world was . . .
    “My cabin,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes and pinning her with an accusing glare. “You’re after my cabin.”
    “Not only after it, but almost got it. You haven’t paid your taxes in two years.” There, she’d done her good deed for the night. It felt awful.
    “Taxes?” He looked at her as if she were crazy. “Sorry to disappoint you, lady, but I haven’t had any income in two years. Maybe longer. Besides, what do my taxes have to do with you?”
    It was Stevie’s turn to choke. “Not income taxes. Property taxes.” Good Lord, she thought, where had this guy been all his life? Dumb question. All she had to do was pick up any outdoor magazine from the last ten years, and she’d be able to pinpoint his whereabouts at any given time. Unfortunately the only picture she’d seen of him hadn’t shown her anything of the man. Typical mountaineering gear included dark glasses, heavy coats, snug hat, and the inevitable ice-encrusted face. Nothing had prepared her for the Nordic god gracing her bar stool.
    “Property taxes,” he repeated slowly, and she could almost see the lightbulb turn on over his head. “Damn. And you bought them.”
    “It was all legal, cut-and-dried business. Anybody could have paid them.” She shrugged again, her slender shoulders lifting and falling with nonchalance.
    The gesture was the final blow to his ego. His last piece of solid financial ground was dust in the wind, and a woman who by all rights should be gazing at him with stars in her eyes was cool as a cucumber.
    Hal started thinking fast, a trait he’d relied on more than once when his back was against the wall, or when his life was on the line. This was a definite back-against-the-wall situation, which required only two main ingredients for a foolproof plan—a debt he could call in, and a debtor who had something he wanted. By her own admission, she owed him—and he could think of a hundred things she had that he wanted, but he’d start with a job. From what he’d seen of the town, she was his best bet, and he’d certainly succeeded taking longer shots.
    “You know, I almost broke my hand decking that jerk.”
    Stevie’s warning instincts lit up like a dance hall on Saturday night. She didn’t know where he was coming from, but she knew the conversation had just taken a sharp turn for the worse. Eyeing him warily, she said, “Thanks again.”
    “Could have gotten real ugly, real fast, if I hadn’t shown up,” He tossed the remark off as if it were barely worth mentioning.
    “I doubt it,” she said “He’s big, but he’s dumb. I was just getting ready to hit him myself.” It was true, but