Page 166 of Whiteout

“Another searcher?” Rob shifted a half step closer, his voice quiet.

“Nope,” Derek answered. “We got some pictures of it for you, though.”

“Good. Email them to me, and I’ll check them out.” Rob started heading toward one of the firefighters who was waving him over. “Thanks.”

They were quiet as they watched the sheriff walk toward the beckoning man. After a few minutes, Derek shifted back a few steps, tugging her with him. Although she gave him a curious glance, she followed willingly enough as he maneuvered them into the shadow of a lodgepole pine.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked.

Turning, he backed her against the tree trunk. Even in the dimness, she saw the flash of his wicked grin. “Something I’ve wanted to do since we left the cabin.”

“Wh—” His mouth landed on hers, cutting off her words. It took only a few seconds before she completely forgot what she’d been about to say. In the years before and after Derek, she’d never experienced anything like his kisses. They’d always brought to mind every romantic cliché she’d ever heard.

Her arms rose of their own accord to circle his neck. When her tongue met his, he made a low sound and pressed her harder against the tree. He kneaded her hips as he leaned against her, trapping her in the very best way.

Their earlier conversation ran through her mind, and the knowledge that he still loved her made the kiss even more intense. She squeezed him, hard, never wanting to lose him again.

“Ahem.”

Her fingers worked their way under his hat into his hair, pressing against his scalp to keep his mouth on hers, where it should be.

“Ahem!”

He nipped at her lower lip, making her moan. His kisses made the entire world disappear, until they were the only two people in it. Heat rose quickly, burning through her as she pulled him even closer, never wanting the embrace to end.

A female voice intruded on Artie’s bliss. “Too bad the fire trucks are at base camp. We might have to hose these two down to separate them.”

Artie knew she was still floating in some other world, because she thought she heard Callum laugh. Callum Cookneverlaughed. The odd sound was enough to jar her out of her Derek-induced daze, and she turned her head toward the interrupting voices.

“Come back,” Derek grumbled, kissing the line of her jaw.

It was tempting to melt back into Derek’s embrace, but the sight of Callum and a grinning Lou was as effective as a shot from the aforementioned firehose in returning her to reality.

“Derek.” She moved her hands from his head to his shoulders so she could push against him. It was like shoving a boulder—a boulder that was kissing a sensitive spot just under her ear that brought a whole host of pleasurable goose bumps. “Derek!”

Grumbling, he shifted away a fraction of an inch and glared at the intruders. If Artie was to take a deep breath, their chests would touch. “What?”

“We’re in the middle of a search and rescue mission.” Any hint of laughter was totally missing from Callum’s tone. Artie decided that she’d just imagined his chuckle earlier. Huh. Instead ofbells ringingwhen Derek had kissed her—like in all the stories—she’d heardCallum laughing. That was a disturbing thought.

“Fine.” Derek stepped back, sliding his hand down her arm to interlace their fingers. “This isn’t really fair, though, Cal. I tried to get you set up with online dating last week, and you kiss-block me. I feel like I’m doing all the giving, and you’re doing all the taking in this relationship.”

Biting her lip so she didn’t laugh, Artie looked anywhere except at Derek. After giving Derek an arctic glower, Callum stalked away, his shoulders rigid.

“Let’s go!” he barked.

Artie made the mistake of meeting Lou’s gaze, and they started snickering. Tossing an arm over both women’s shoulders, Derek steered them toward the rest of the group.

“Time to go home,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of Artie’s hat. “We’ll eat, sleep, and”—he cleared his throat—“do…other things before someone else needs rescuing.”

Trying to ignore the way her heart thumped faster at his mention of “other things,” Artie directed her flashlight at the ground, carefully placing each step. It would only take one loose rock to completely destroy her knee. Artie still had a good chance of getting to base camp without being carried, and she wanted to keep it that way.

As they fell into a single-file line to descend the narrow path, a distant chorus of coyotes echoed in the darkness. Artie glanced up at the towering cliffs, wondering if the mountain lion was perched somewhere high above them. Or maybe the person who’d left the boot print in the snow was still close by, watching.

With a shiver, she refocused on where she was putting her feet. The downward slope made it tricky to keep her balance, and she winced as a tiny slide jarred her knee. Derek put a steadying hand on her back, reminding her that he was with her—for good, this time.

Smiling, she took another step toward home.