Chapter One
It was a glass-half-full kind of day for Hailey Barrosse. Sure, it had been a slow summer season in the tiny town of Paradise, Alaska. In fact, it had been an excruciatingly slow year, particularly for the bush pilots who flew for West Slope Aviation. They were paid by the mile. So, no miles, no money.
Not that Hailey had a lot of day-to-day expenses. She lived in WSA staff housing: a small rustic room, just a bedroom, a bathroom and a tiny sitting area. But it stayed warm in the winter and had a great view of the mountains during the long summer days. The company provided three tasty meals plus snacks in the staff cafeteria, so if her bank balance suffered a little in the short term, she could live with that.
Today, however, was a bright spot for the entire town. It was the first day of principal photography for the superhero action movie Aurora Unleashed. The production had brought new jobs to town. Local residents had been hired in catering, carpentry, hair and makeup, as well as in logistics. That wasn't even counting the business spin-offs for everyone from Galina Expediting and West Slope Aviation to the Bear and Bar CafŽ and Rapid Release Whitewater Rafting.
Today, practically everyone had assembled at Mia Westberg and Silas Burke's house on the banks of the Paradise River to check out the action. It was a picturesque location: a wildflower meadow with soaring mountains and snow-capped peaks in the distance with the newly built two-story villa at the center of it all. The spectators clustered behind the surveyor's tape boundary that ran to the river's edge. But as the official pilot to the location scouting team, Hailey was allowed on set with the rest of the crew.
"Grab a snack," Willow Hale told her, stepping up to the heavily laden craft services table.
"Is eating all anybody does here?" But Hailey joined Willow to check out the assortment of fruit and nuts, cookies and treats. In addition, enticing smells wafted from the catering tent, even though they were halfway between breakfast and lunch.
"We have to keep up our energy level," Willow said, selecting a peanut butter granola bar and peeling away the wrapper.
Hailey was tempted by a bag of white chocolate-covered cashews. The delicacy was new to her, but how could you go wrong with cashews, white chocolate and crunchy toffee?
You couldn't, that was the answer. She picked up a package.
"Besides," Willow continued between bites, "they're tossing me off the sundeck into the river this morning."
Hailey stopped tearing open the crimped foil. "They're what?"
"That's the first scene. I mean, not the first scene in the movie, but the first one they're filming. Probably want to get it done before the weather cools. I have to say, I'm all for that." Willow took another bite.
"Do you know what you're doing?" It was a twenty-foot drop from the sundeck into the water. And the water was freezing. Well, nearly freezing, just barely liquid. The river was fed year-round by glaciers high up in the mountain peaks.
Sure, Willow was athletic. But she wasn't a professional stuntwoman. She was a Californian who loved adventure sports and had been drafted by the production based mostly on her enthusiasm for Paradise and the project.
"Not exactly," she said.
"Well, did you rehearse it?"
"Are you kidding?" Willow's voice rose. "Do it twice?"
"Good point." Hailey had to agree. "Plus, the first time might kill you."
"Well, hopefully not dead, dead," Willow said matter-of-factly. "There'll be a safety diver in the water."
"It's three minutes to hypothermia in that river." Hailey didn't see how a safety diver would help in such a tight race against time.
Willow pulled the high collar of her shirt down to show a patch of white fabric. "Dry suit. I'm brave, not suicidal."
Hailey felt a little better about that precaution. She tore open the bag of cashews. "What about the current? If the diver misses, you'll be swept all the way to Weaver Lake."
"Riley and Nicholas are downstream in rafts. If it all goes bad, they'll catch me."
"Oh." Hailey popped a nut in her mouth.
"See that?" Willow grinned and squeezed Hailey's arm. "You're not getting rid of me today."
"These are delicious," Hailey noted, taking an appreciative look at the shiny blue bag. "Where have you been all my life?"
"So, that's it?" Willow asked on a pout, gesturing to herself up and down. "No more worrying about me?"
"You said it yourself, Riley will save you." Riley had had a soft spot for Willow since her first trip to Paradise nearly two years ago. Hailey held out the bag. "Have you tried these things?"
Willow took a couple of nuts, biting one in half and checking the inside. "Yum."
"Right?" Hailey ate another.
Willow focused on a spot past Hailey's left shoulder, her gaze holding there. "Oh, hello. Who is that?"
Hailey turned to look then convulsively swallowed. Who was that? Had they replaced Cash Monahan, the actor playing Archvillain Dax Vanquich?
"Is he the new Dax?" She was embarrassed by her fangirl reaction. She wasn't a fangirl of anyone. But this guy was . . . it was hard to find the right words: rugged, sexy, buff? The camera had to love those deep mysterious eyes.
"They didn't replace Dax," Willow said. "They'd have replaced his stunt double too. And look"-she pointed to where the crew was getting the shot set up on the sundeck-"Buzz is still here."
Hailey didn't want to look at the stuntman. She wanted to keep watching the man striding their way with such power and composure, like he owned the place.
"He looks like money," Willow said.
Hailey agreed with that. "An executive producer?"
"Mia's the executive producer."
"Maybe she needed another backer. Does he look like he's from LA?"
The film's financial backer, Mia Westberg, was a former fashion model who had moved up from LA nearly two years ago to marry local pilot Silas Burke. Not that this guy's demeanor said fashion industry, not by a long shot. Although, he was wearing a dark, custom-fitted suit with a crisp white shirt and a blue silk tie, so he was definitely dressed the part.
"I wouldn't say LA," Willow answered. "No tan, and that body doesn't look like it was sculpted in a gym."
"It looks good," Hailey said, trying to keep her voice even but wanting to sigh like a teenage girl.
The stranger caught her gaze. He stopped walking and his eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to place her but couldn't.
It was then that Hailey noticed the woman beside him. She was dressed as suavely as he was in a black-and-white-checkerboard blouse, a short, tailored steel-gray jacket and a matching slim skirt. Her dangling earrings looked terrific below her short dark hair. But she'd made a bad choice in shoes. The heels were too narrow for walking over the meadow.
"She looks more like New York," Willow said.
"What are they even doing here?" Hailey wondered.
"On set?"
"In Paradise."
The woman said something to the man. He tilted his head to listen but kept his quizzical gaze on Hailey.
"He's staring at you," Willow whispered.
"Do I have something on my face?" Hailey wondered if she'd smeared chocolate in her enthusiasm over the cashews. But even if she had, the chocolate was white. He wouldn't see it from that distance. She glanced down at her mottled blue T-shirt and gray cargo pants. Nothing seemed off with her outfit.
Her leather hikers might be scuffed and worn, but they were eminently practical. And she'd popped a WSA ball cap over her ponytail to keep off the sun. There was nothing remotely noteworthy about her appearance.
Willow studied her for a minute. "You're good."
Then a bad feeling came over Hailey. "Oh no."
"Oh no what?" Willow asked, sounding worried.
"He might be from Atlanta."
"Atlanta?"
"My family might have sent him." Hailey's stomach turned queasy at the notion.
"Why would they do that?"
"Because they want me to come home." Hailey's sister had sent three texts yesterday alone, and Hailey had flat-out ignored the recent phone calls from her mother.
"They'd send a guy?" Willow sounded skeptical.
Hailey knew it was unlikely they'd send someone to fetch her. Sure, her family wanted her home for the annual shareholders' meeting, just like they always did. But she never attended. She just gave her sister, Amber, her proxy for the votes.
Then again, unlikely wasn't impossible.
"He's coming this way," Willow said with a thread of excitement in her voice.
The man's attention had definitely zeroed in on Hailey.
She considered making a run for it, but he looked like he'd have some speed. And even if she made it to her pickup truck, what then? Head for the airstrip and commandeer a plane?
She wasn't letting this guy run her out of Paradise.
He was only yards away now, and she braced herself, planting her feet, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin.
"Hello," he said in a deep honey-smooth voice that sent a ripple up her spine.
She waited, gaze narrowing, prepared to tell him she wasn't leaving Paradise and he could march right back to where he came from.
"I'm looking for Raven Westberg."
Surprise tumbled through Hailey, and it was immediately followed by embarrassment. He was clearly not here for her.
She almost laughed at her own absurdity.
"I'm not sure she's on set right now," Willow said, glancing around.
"Is Raven expecting you?" Hailey asked.
He might not be here for her, but this guy didn't fit in Paradise, not by a long shot.
"We don't have a specific appointment." His assessing gaze told Hailey it was none of her business. Unfortunately, the smoldering look also made her heart beat more deeply in her chest.
Residual adrenaline, she told herself. Not that he could have bodily removed her from Paradise. But she hadn't wanted to argue with some brash stranger about returning to Atlanta.
The professional-looking woman handed Hailey a business card. "If you do see Raven, could you ask her to call?"
The card read Dalia Volksberg, PQH Holdings, embossed in gold letters.
"What can I tell her?" Hailey asked, growing curious and slightly uneasy. Were these people lawyers? Headhunters? What did they want with Raven?
The man answered, an edge to his deep voice. "That we'd like to speak to her."
"About?" Hailey wasn't going to be intimidated by him.
His lips thinned as he stood in pointed silence.
Hailey's back stiffened in response. People obviously hopped to it for him in his world. But she wasn't part of his world.
She handed the card back to the woman. "I don't expect to see Raven anytime soon."
She felt Willow's surprise. The man clearly noticed it too, because his suspicious gaze slid to Willow then back to Hailey.
"Alaskan hospitality?" he challenged Hailey on a drawl.
"Urban entitlement?" she returned with the same level of defiance.
For some reason, he smiled at that. "I guess we'll track her down ourselves."
He turned to walk away then, tossing a steel-eyed look over his shoulder.
"Wow," Willow said.
"High on himself or what?" Hailey asked rhetorically.
"I wonder what he wants with Raven."
"I hope he doesn't find her."
"How could he not find her?"
Willow was right. A person couldn't hide in Paradise if they were trying.
Parker Hall had grown up in Alaska, but Paradise seemed quirky even to him. To be fair, he’d spent the last ten years in Anchorage refining his image to better fit in with his expanding business circle.
He'd expected the town's mood to be gloomy, given the tough times they'd faced over the past year. But what he'd found was optimism, almost a festival air.
"You do know it's going to come out," his business manager, Dalia Volksberg, said as they threaded their way through the trailers, equipment and people crowding the set. Pickups and semitrucks were parked in a neat line beside the long gravel driveway and multiple generators rumbled in the background.
"I know it will," Parker agreed. "But not because I gave it away to a curious woman."
"You cut her off pretty quick," Dalia observed.
"There was something about her," he defended himself.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He'd sensed an underlying hostility, then a stubbornness, and he hadn't wanted to give an inch.
"Well, those shoes for one," Dalia responded airily. "I mean, seven pockets in your slacks are bad enough, but there's no excuse for mismatched laces and mud-caked hikers."
"You're a pocket snob?" Parker hadn't noticed what the woman was wearing. He'd been too busy taking in those clear blue eyes. He could admire the intelligence he saw behind them, even the curiosity. But her obstinance sure put him off.
Not that they weren't beautiful eyes. And not that she wasn't a beautiful woman. Even without makeup, her eyelashes were thick and dark in contrast to her light whisps of auburn hair beneath the olive-green ball cap. Her cheeks were flushed against her pale skin, and he'd caught the slightest hint of freckles on her cheekbones.
He couldn't help but be fascinated by her deep pink lips that looked highly-he stopped his thoughts in their tracks, giving himself a mental shake.
"The women here . . ." Dalia's tone was searching as she gazed around at the people they passed.
He resolutely redirected his attention but didn't see anything strange. "What about the women?"
"They don't even seem to . . ." She paused, clearly searching for the right word. "Try."
Parker gave a wry smile. "It's a working town, Dalia."
At least it had been a working town. It was more of a depressed town now. Well, except for this film. He hadn't known about the film until they'd arrived. It had to be a one-off, a temporary respite from the economic downturn. There was nothing about Paradise that would qualify it as Hollywood far, far north.
Everyone's attention suddenly swung in a single direction, so Parker looked too. There were three cameras in place on the big sundeck, their operators at the ready and the lighting bright on the actors. A man and woman were circling each other like they were about to engage in a fight.
The woman was the quieter of the two he'd just encountered. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the crowd until he caught a glimpse of the obstinate one.
She was just as pretty in profile, her pale auburn ponytail sticking jauntily from the back of her green ball cap. Like everyone else, she was intently watching the action on the sundeck. Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, and his chest went tight with desire.
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