Cassie was quiet on the drive to Sean’s property, staring out the window and fighting off the urge to cry.

How had Stalker Doug gotten her personal cell phone number? He hadn’t had it before she left New York. He would have used it if he had. She’d thought about changing her number anyway, but deactivating all her social media and changing her professional name and moving thousands of miles away had seemed like enough, especially since he’d never contacted her by phone before.

His words wouldn’t leave her head. “Cassandra. Beautiful Cassandra. I haven’t seen you in a while. You moved? You can’t hide from me.” At this point he’d breathed huffily into the phone, the sound too-close in her ear. “But no matter. I’ll be seeing you soon. You can count on it.”

She hadn’t thought twice about answering her phone, but hearing his voice again sent a familiar icy dread slithering down her spine. She’d instinctively said he had the wrong number and disconnected the call, but of course the bastard wouldn’t let her go.

Don’t ever hang up on me again, he’d texted. Ignoring me will not end well for you.

As if she’d keep her phone number one day longer now that he’d somehow acquired it. And how had he? It was unlisted, and paid for under her father’s account. A panicky, irrational instinct made her want to pack up again, to flee Golden Falls, but during the drive to Sean’s place she reasoned herself out of it. There was no way he could know she was in Alaska. She’d changed her professional name and rented the townhouse, all utilities included, under Abby’s name. She’d bought a used Toyota Camry with cash and put the title and registration under an LLC she’d created just for that purpose. Nor had she changed over her driver’s license to Alaska, so for all public purposes, her old self was still in New York.

There was no reason to think he had any clue where she was, no reason for him to think she was anywhere other than hiding in plain sight among New York City’s millions of residents. She was safe here. Anonymous.

“Ever been camping before?” Cody asked, as if trying to draw her out of her anxious funk.

She turned her gaze from the passenger-side window and looked at him. In profile, Cody was as handsome as he was straight on, with his strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones, and, of course, those bulky arms. Looking at him relaxed her. Excited her, too.

“No, I’ve never camped. My parents are total city people. Well, except we used to go skiing in Vail every winter, and there’s plenty of nature there.”

“You ski, huh?”

She nodded. “I was thinking about trying cross-country this winter. Have you ever done that?”

“Oh, sure,” Cody said. “That and snowshoeing were my primary means of getting around in Bettles during winter when I was a kid. It wasn’t recreation so much as it was a necessity.”

“You must have had an interesting childhood, being from such a tiny, remote place.”

“I had a lot of freedom, and I basically grew up in the wilderness,” he said. “Not a bad way to spend a childhood.”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yeah. You?”

She nodded. “Me, too.” She looked out the window at the trees flashing by. “I bet you’re more comfortable outdoors than indoors.”

“I sure am. So you’ve never camped. Ever gone hunting?’

“No!” She laughed at the idea, and then looked closer when she saw the merry look in his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you can’t truly understand Alaskans until you hunt and fish and camp,” he said.

“Are you telling me those are all going to be part of my Alaska lessons?”

“If you’re up for it.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you?”

His quiet presence put her at ease, made her feel safe. Her stomach felt flippy again just looking at him, and she felt the impact of her stalker’s phone call and texts slip away. She’d change her number, and he’d be out of her life for good, simple as that. Out with the old, in with the new.

Cody could be her new and shiny plaything.

She gave him a flirty smile. “Ask me after today’s fishing lesson.”

“Will do.”

They drove along in companionable silence, punctuated by a few small-talk questions here and there, until they arrived at Sean’s place. When they pulled up, Cassie was pleasantly surprised to find a paved driveway bordered by long timbers, a good-sized log house, and behind it a large lawn sloping gently toward the river.

Cody parked and jumped out of the truck, coming around to open her door for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she said, putting her hand lightly in his as she hopped down.

He’d helped her down the other day from the fire truck, too, and she’d used it as an excuse to get close to him. Today, she did the same thing, tipping forward as she landed just the least bit clumsily so he had to steady her.

Reluctantly, and unable to read his intentions or body language, she withdrew her hand from his. Before they started walking toward the back of the log house and the riverbank, he grabbed a large tackle box, a duffel bag, and two spindly long fishing rods out of the covered bed of the pickup, giving Cassie an opportunity to watch him as he stretched forward and hoisted the gear.

He was every bit as hunky out of uniform as he had been in it. He wore a t-shirt that stretched tight across his broad chest and arms, and nylon khaki pants Cassie guessed one would wear for fishing.

“Is Sean home?” she asked.

Cody shook his head. “Gone for the day, but he’s always happy to lend his back yard for fishing.”

“This is some back yard.”

The Nanook River was wild and gorgeous, a rushing band of blue-gray. The river ran through the middle of town, but here Sean’s soft green shag grass lawn sloped down to a rocky edge, interspersed with the occasional tall pine tree. Afternoon sun filtered down and glinted off the water. A slight chill in the shadows was a reminder of how far north she was.

They walked to the river, where Cody set down the tackle box and rods. He unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out a pair of what looked like rubber waders, holding them by their suspenders.

“These are for you,” he said.

“Waders?” she said, feeling self-conscious and out of her element. “Oh, my. How … uh … how deep is the water? Is it safe?”

“Perfectly safe. I’ve fished here lots of times.”

Cassie glanced at the river. “It seems to be moving awfully fast.”

“Trust me,” Cody said, handing her the waders. “If you get swept away, I’ll rescue you.”

His grin was sure and sudden, and the thought of his strong arms around her gave Cassie pleasant rush throughout her body. But then he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“We’re going to have to get you some better clothes. Jeans are no good. If they get wet, they take forever to dry. Your shoes, too. Those boots are way too nice. And leather? They’ll get ruined if they get wet or in mud. You want Gore-Tex.”

Cassie thought her English riding boots had been a practical choice. “It was either these or my four-inch-high stilettos.”

Cody raised his eyebrows. “Now that would have been something to see.”

She brightened because for the first time, she felt sure he was flirting with her. Or sure that he was probably flirting with her. He was so subtle, it was hard to tell.

“Play your cards right and maybe you will,” she said, relishing how his face reddened at her forwardness. Cassie was the opposite of subtle, the opposite of shy.

“I look forward to that,” Cody said. “But for now, go ahead and take off your boots. It won’t hurt to just wear socks with the waders.”

“Okay.”

She leaned down to take off a boot but wobbled as she tried to balance. Cody put his hands on his knees and bent at the waist. “Here, use my shoulder.”

She could feel the hard bulge of his trapezoid muscle, solid as a rock under his t-shirt. She wanted to run her hand along his body and go exploring. She imagined what he would look like shirtless—or better yet, naked. The thought was a physical ache between her legs. It was difficult to concentrate on taking off her boots.

Cody moved the waders next to her so she could step into them without getting her socks dirty. He put the straps over her shoulders and tightened them, and she stood perfectly still except for the rapid, lusty beating of her heart as she felt his touch through the fabric of her tank top.

“All set.” He stepped into his own pair and grabbed one of the fishing poles. “Fly fishing is an art. Don’t worry if you don’t get the hang of it right away.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” she said. “But at least I’m building my Alaska credibility with my news director.”

“Are you having problems with him?”

“I don’t think he wants to invest much in me because he thinks I’m a short-timer.”

“Which you are.”

“Which I am.”

Their eyes locked briefly, and Cassie thought she saw a flicker of disappointment in his.

“I’ll step out first into the river,” he said. “The current will be strong, but we’ll be able to stand, and we won’t go too far in. Grab my hand.”

Cassie took Cody’s large hand. He clasped hers reassuringly and she, feeling aroused and afraid and all kinds of conflicted, followed him into the river.