Cabin Fever Read online

  When Brad began wrapping the bandage around Emily’s wrist, she tried to pretend he was the doctor.

  But that didn’t work at all. Although he did it methodically and expertly, she noticed every graze of his thumb, every touch of his eyes on her.

  “There you go.” His words were light but when his gaze held hers, there was no lightness there. “Emily,” he murmured as he leaned forward.

  She loved the sound of her name on his lips. She loved his claiming purpose as he stood and then pulled her up, too. When his arms wrapped around her, he said, “I don’t understand this chemistry between us any more than you do.”

  What made them want each other? What made her eager to catch a glimpse of him? What made her want to feel him inside her again? She knew this could only be temporary. She absolutely knew it.

  Yet sometimes it simply didn’t matter. Brad and his kisses took her breath away.

  CABIN FEVER

  KAREN ROSE SMITH

  To my continuity partners, Christine Rimmer, Allison Leigh, Pam Toth, Judy Duarte, and Cheryl St. John, who made working on this project a pleasure.

  With thanks to Jessica Miller for her valuable help in describing Montana weather and scenery. Her love of the state easily inspired me.

  Books by Karen Rose Smith

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Abigail and Mistletoe #930

  The Sheriff’s Proposal #1074

  His Little Girl’s Laughter #1426

  Expecting the CEO’s Baby #1535

  Their Baby Bond #1588

  Take a Chance on Me #1599

  Which Child is Mine? #1655

  Cabin Fever #1682

  Silhouette Books

  The Fortunes of Texas

  Marry in Haste…

  Logan’s Legacy

  A Precious Gift

  Silhouette Romance

  *Adam’s Vow #1075

  *Always Daddy #1102

  *Shane’s Bride #1128

  †Cowboy at the Wedding #1171

  †Most Eligible Dad #1174

  †A Groom and a Promise #1181

  The Dad Who Saved Christmas #1267

  ‡Wealth, Power and a Proper Wife #1320

  ‡Love, Honor and a Pregnant Bride #1326

  ‡Promises, Pumpkins and Prince Charming #1332

  The Night Before Baby #1348

  ‡Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding #1407

  Just the Man She Needed #1434

  Just the Husband She Chose #1455

  Her Honor-Bound Lawman #1480

  Be My Bride? #1492

  Tall, Dark & True #1506

  Her Tycoon Boss #1523

  Doctor in Demand #1536

  A Husband in Her Eyes #1577

  The Marriage Clause #1591

  Searching for Her Prince #1612

  With One Touch #1638

  The Most Eligible Doctor #1692

  Once Upon a Baby… #1737

  Previously published under the pseudonym Kari Sutherland

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Wish on the Moon #741

  Silhouette Romance

  Heartfire, Homefire #973

  KAREN ROSE SMITH

  grew up in Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna Valley and still lives a stone’s throw away. Readers can write to her at P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331 or e-mail her through her Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com.

  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 One

  “I am not the father,” Brad Vaughn stated in no uncertain terms.

  The Chicago private investigation firm of Vaughn Associates was not where Brad wanted to have this discussion. However, with his dad standing in his office, newspaper in hand, Brad had no choice.

  Phillip Vaughn, head of the firm, a man who was always right, a father who was grooming his son for his position, shook the newspaper at Brad. “Are you sure? Suzette Brouchard says—”

  “I don’t care what Suzette Brouchard says. We had a brief relationship, but I never slept with her without protection. From the information I have so far, her baby was born forty-two weeks after our last night together. She’d moved on to someone else, and that man is the father of her baby.”

  Suzette was a beautiful, sexy model, but neither of them had expected more than a few nights of good sex. She’d faded into the background after they’d stopped seeing each other, and that had been almost three years ago.

  “Why would she do this?” Phillip Vaughn asked, still in an accusing tone.

  “Money. She thinks if she makes enough noise, I’ll settle and give her a bundle.”

  Brad had a bundle. Not from the fortune his father had acquired but from his own sweat. He’d earned an MBA and opted out of his father’s plans for him for a few years to work on Wall Street. He’d done well and invested most of it, not in the dot-com of the moment but in solid, stable companies he’d researched. At the height of the boom, he’d sold most of it, bought real estate, sold that, reinvested in conservative investments for the future and constantly turned over the rest for profit. At thirty-five, he had more money than he’d ever need.

  Money certainly hadn’t been the reason he’d joined his father in his firm. Taking over Vaughn Associates someday hadn’t been one of his aspirations. However, when his mother had phoned him and gently suggested his dad wouldn’t be around forever, Brad had wondered if he and his father could set aside the adversarial relationship they’d always had and forge real bonds they could build on. But Brad had been vice president of his dad’s firm for two years now, and the bonds were as thready as they’d always been. He didn’t know any more now what made Phillip Vaughn tick than he had when he was twelve and his parents had divorced.

  “I’ve already contacted Suzette’s lawyer and informed him I’ll be giving a sample for a DNA test today. This will be settled within a month,” Brad said decisively.

  “The reputation of this firm could suffer a hell of a lot in a month if articles like this keep appearing.”

  “That’s what Suzette and her lawyer are counting on.”

  “A settlement could shut it all down today,” Phillip insisted.

  But Brad wasn’t about to settle, not when his reputation was at stake. “No. I want to clear my name. I won’t be thought of as an irresponsible playboy who doesn’t care if he gets a woman pregnant.”

  “That’s not what you are?” his father asked with a bit of an amused smile.

  His dad often frustrated him. Now his question rankled in a deep place that unsettled Brad. “I have never been irresponsible.”

  Silence reverberated in the office until his father broke it. “Maybe you should think about settling down,” he suggested, throwing the newspaper onto Brad’s mahogany desk.

  “You know how I feel about that.” Brad couldn’t keep the acerbic edge from his voice.

  When his father had kicked his mother out of their home after her affair, Brad had lived with her during the week and with his father on weekends. He wouldn’t take the chance of doing that to any kid. Besides that, he simply didn’t trust women. That might have started with his mother’s infidelity, but in college he’d given the fairer sex a chance. That had been a mistake. His father had bought off the girl that he didn’t deem appropriate for Brad, and Brad’s eyes had been opened to exactly how little love mattered compared to the allure of money.

  “With y
our paternity up in the air, what are you going to do about Thunder Canyon?” his father asked.

  “Thunder Canyon can’t wait,” Brad answered, considering the client’s case he was personally overseeing.

  Thunder Canyon, Montana, was a small town near Bozeman. Since Vaughn Associates was acclaimed for its security work and all-around private investigation skill, the company’s reputation was known across the country. Caleb Douglas, one of the most renowned citizens of Thunder Canyon, had hired Vaughn Associates to uncover the true ownership of a gold mine there.

  “I got the history from Caleb Douglas yesterday,” Brad went on. “Since the late eighteen hundreds, the Douglas family has claimed the property in Thunder Canyon that includes the Queen of Hearts gold mine. Now they can’t find the deed. Caleb has always assumed he knew the truth and the land was his. I’m hoping I can wrap up the investigation in a few days.”

  A small voice on his shoulder, however, reminded him a missing deed could mean trouble.

  “I’ll need to find the deed or some proof of ownership. I’m going to ask Emily to go along.”

  “Your secretary? Is she necessary?”

  “Caleb said he wanted this done quickly no matter how much it cost. If Emily’s along, I can count on her to write up the daily reports and do preliminary interviews.”

  With a frown, his father checked his watch. “I have an appointment across town. I’d better get going.” He cast a disdainful glance at the newspaper once more. “Maybe if you’re out of town for a few days, the hubbub over that…situation…will settle down. I don’t want to have to field calls about your personal life while you’re away.”

  As if his father really knew anything about his personal life. “If you receive any calls, give the caller my cell number,” Brad said curtly.

  Phillip gave him a long look. “I’ll do just that.” Then he left Brad’s office.

  Crossing to the doorway, Brad’s gaze didn’t follow his father as he left the office suite. Rather, his eyes rested on Emily Stanton. His secretary sat at her computer, headset on, transcribing yesterday’s reports.

  Brad would never depend on a woman in his personal life. He knew the foolishness, the futility in that. But in his professional life, Emily was as dependable as a woman got. She was organized, punctual, thorough and sometimes uncannily able to read his mind. With her straight, dark brown hair—shoulder length and blunt—her bangs; her sedate, always-polite attitude, she didn’t turn heads and she didn’t flirt. She was just available when he needed her, straightforward in her manner and an asset he didn’t want to contemplate doing without. She’d been with the Vaughn secretarial pool for two years. Then, six months ago, when his secretary had taken maternity leave, Emily had applied for the promotion. He knew from her personnel records she was twenty-seven, but he didn’t know much else. They’d never had a personal discussion.

  Engrossed in her work, Emily wasn’t even aware of him stepping out of his office. Since she was wearing her headset, he clasped her shoulder, hoping not to startle her. “Emily?”

  She gasped and came up out of her chair so fast her headset flew from her ears and landed on the computer keyboard. They were standing toe to toe and almost nose to nose, except her nose came to the knot of his tie. He suddenly realized how petite and fragile she seemed as he inhaled a flowery scent—lilacs, maybe? Yes, Emily Stanton smelled like lilacs. Had he ever been this close to her before?

  Trying to back up, she bumped into the desk. “Mr. Vaughn! Did you call me? I didn’t hear you come out of your office.”

  “No, I didn’t call you.” He motioned to the headset. “I didn’t think you’d hear me.”

  She was wearing a two-piece black suit today, with a boxy jacket and a straight skirt. For the first time since he’d hired her, he noticed her eyes were the color of emeralds.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke, just gazed at each other.

  Then, feeling a bit unsettled and not knowing exactly why, Brad asked, “Can you come into my office? There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

  Emily’s cheeks were flushed and she didn’t appear to be her calm, cool self as she reached for the legal pad on her desk and a pen in the holder. “Sure. I’ll be right in.”

  Brad didn’t wait but returned to his office and lowered himself into the tall, burgundy leather chair behind his desk.

  Hurrying in after him, Emily took a seat in one of the two chairs facing him. She was composed again, her legal pad and pen ready to take notes or directions. Emily loved lists, he knew. She stuck them on her computer, on her keyboard, on her desk. He supposed that’s how she stayed organized.

  “I have a special assignment for you. Something out of the ordinary.”

  “A special assignment?” she repeated, looking perplexed.

  “Remember those notes you typed on Caleb Douglas?”

  “The man who thinks he owns a gold mine in Montana?”

  “He’s the one. By the way, thanks for staying late last night and deciphering my scribblings from the phone call with him.”

  There were still spots of color on her cheeks. “No problem. I knew you wanted to start working on his case today.”

  “There’s some urgency in finding out whether he truly owns this mine or not. Supposedly the gold mine was abandoned in the late eighteen hundreds. But a couple of months ago, when a young boy fell down an erosion hole into a mine canal, gold nuggets were found. Caleb Douglas, of course, wants to mine any gold if it’s there. The problem is, he and his family can’t find the deed.”

  “And you’re supposed to find it?”

  “I’m supposed to find out who truly owns the Queen of Hearts mine. I doubt if I’ll find the deed itself, but hopefully I can find some type of record that will prove Caleb Douglas is the rightful heir or the owner.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  As Brad’s attention focused on Emily again and the expectant look on her face, he realized how cute she actually was. Was he looking at her differently because he’d be traveling with her? Because he was thinking about time they’d be spending together outside of the office? Because he was thinking about how she’d look in blue jeans?

  Reminding himself that Emily wasn’t the type of woman he dated for a multitude of reasons, he said evenly, “I’d like you to fly to Montana with me tomorrow. As I said, I need to tie up this case quickly. If you’re along, the work might go faster. We might have to page through a lot of old records, and I may need to follow leads while you make calls.”

  Her gaze dropped to his desk and the newspaper lying there. Then she asked, “It would just be you and me? Alone?”

  Brad had the reputation for being one of the most eligible bachelors in Chicago. He had been dubbed that when a reporter had written an article about him after he’d returned to his hometown. At the time it hadn’t bothered him, but now he didn’t like that reputation any more than he liked the column that had appeared about him and Suzette in this morning’s paper.

  Picking up the newspaper, he folded it in half and tossed it into the trash can beside his desk. “The allegations are false.”

  To her credit, Emily didn’t play dumb. “It’s none of my business,” she said softly.

  “You’re my secretary. It’s your business because I don’t want unfounded gossip to keep you from taking this trip.”

  “I’m surprised you’re going away now,” she admitted honestly.

  “I’m not going to let an unsubstantiated accusation interfere with my work or with my life.”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Vaughn….”

  “It’s only for a few days, Emily. There will be plenty of other people around. We’ll be busy with interviews and public records.”

  “Where would we stay?”

  “There’s an inn and a motel. From what I understand, it’s pretty much a little, one-horse town, but it’s readying itself for a new ski resort.”

  Seeing indecision still on her face, he offered the one incentive h
e knew she’d understand and probably not resist. “If you take this trip to Thunder Canyon with me, I’ll toss in a bonus.” He named a sum that made her eyes widen.

  “You’re willing to pay that much for my help?”

  “I’m willing to pay that for good help. I need someone dependable, and you’re dependable. So what do you say?”

  After a few moments of hesitation, she asked, “When should I be ready to leave?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Vaughn, I simply have no rooms to rent you,” said the motel manager with a Texas drawl that seemed out of place in Montana.

  Emily couldn’t believe what she and Brad were hearing. He had told her yesterday there was no need to make advance reservations since the tourist season wasn’t yet in full swing. They’d just arrived at dinnertime, and they were worn out from their flight—from Chicago to Denver, then Denver to Bozeman. The foreman of Caleb Douglas’s ranch had picked them up at the airport and driven them to Thunder Canyon. When he’d asked where they wanted to go, Brad had directed him to the Big Sky Motel at the edge of town.

  Standing to one side, the foreman of the Lazy D—a man in his fifties with a stubble of gray beard and a huge black Stetson—tipped his hat up on his forehead. “It’s because of the gold rush. We got more people coming in than this town knows what to do with.”

  “Mr. Vaughn, maybe we should try to call Caleb Douglas,” Emily suggested.

  “It’s Brad, Emily. I told you that on the plane. And Caleb Douglas is going to be meeting us here anytime now.” Turning back to the hotel clerk, he demanded, “Let me talk to the manager.”

  Emily could tell Brad was getting impatient. He was the type of man who was used to clearing his way no matter what the obstacles in his path.

  The man behind the desk looked a bit frazzled, too. Emily thought he looked a little like Al Pacino. He wore a name tag that said Jess Anderson.

  Now the motel manager tugged on his bolo tie and blew out a breath. “I’m the manager and the owner. I don’t have any rooms to give you.”

  Taking his wallet from his jeans, Brad removed a bill. Emily’s breath caught when she saw that it was a hundred dollars. Her employer laid it on the counter. “Are you sure?”