Sound of Summer Read online

  Sound of summer

  Annette Broaderick

  Summary: Selena Stanford, sexy star of television's hit espionage series "Derringer Drake," had no clue that when she drove to Yosemite for two weeks of solitude she'd end up acting out a real-life episode of her show.

  Abduction ... spies ... a car chase. And at the center of it all was "Derringer Drake" himself, the mysterious Adam Conroy, living alone in a secluded one-room cabin. Roughing it in the woods with this silver-eyed special agent wasn't exactly the vacation she'd imagined. But the sounds of summer she'd yearned to hear were much more potent when mixed with the passionate beating of two hungry hearts.

  SILHOUETTE BOOKS 300 East 42nd SL, New York, N.Y. 10017

  Copyright © 1986 by Annette Broadrick

  Printed In U.S.A.

  Chapter One

  "What was all that hype about—that you could go anywhere with a four-wheel drive and not get stuck?" Selena looked around the interior of her Ford Bronco in disgust. "Well, I'm somewhere and I'm sure as hell stuck!"

  Selena Stanford found herself in a one-sided conversation with the manufacturers of her new truck. It was too bad they weren't there to answer her.

  The Bronco had slid off a steep mountain road at a curve and all four wheels were in the soft shoulder.

  "You poor excuse for a mechanical mountain goat! Now what do I do?"

  Her truck took the name-calling with calm stoicism. She had a sneaky hunch the cause of her present predicament had less to do with the truck's abilities than with her inexperience behind the wheel. She had never driven on anything less defined than a carefully measured and painted street or highway.

  Selena stared out the windshield in dismay. The wiper blades were unable to keep up with the deluge presently beating down. A jagged streak of lightning momentarily lit the sky, illuminating the mountainous area. The lightning was followed seconds later by a thunderous crash, graphically announcing to Selena that: one—the mountain storm was increasing in intensity; two—the rain wasn't going to let up anytime soon; and, three—the countryside illuminated by the bright display looked like nothing Clay had described to her. She was fairly certain she'd missed her turn.

  In addition, she was stuck. What a great way to begin a vacation, she thought gloomily.

  With nature's electricity gone for the moment, Selena peered desperately through her windshield, trying to see between the furious swipings of her overworked wiper blades. The feeble light of her high beams mocked her attempts to get her bearings. What had she expected to see?

  Selena had never been up in the mountains of Yosemite National Park before. For the past hour she had been questioning her mental condition when she'd decided to get away from Los Angeles by herself, to camp and to commune with nature at the well-known park.

  Darting light sprang across the sky once again.

  If this is what it's like to commune with nature in its purest form, I don't think I'm ready for it.

  The road she'd been following had grown more narrow with every successive mile and was now no more than two wheel tracks winding through the heavily wooded area. Selena had made up her mind to turn around as soon as she could find a place wide enough to do so when she lost control of the truck.

  She flicked on the map light and peered at her watch. It was almost eleven o'clock. She would have reached her destination over an hour ago. Where had she made the wrong turn? She mentally reviewed the various roads she had passed but could remember no signs that would have helped her.

  The thunder that faithfully followed each flash of lightning shook the truck and Selena shivered. She was not the stuff heroines are made of. She was neither fearless in the face of adversity nor willing to brave the elements under any and all conditions. In short, she was nothing like the woman she portrayed in her weekly television series.

  She gazed at the dense woods around her but could see nothing that might suggest there was anyone nearby. No cars, no lights—nothing but pouring rain.

  Selena ran her hand through her shoulder-length, blond hair and sighed. She couldn't sit there all night.

  With fresh determination, Selena shifted the gears of the truck and began the rocking movement that should have freed her. Instead, the truck sank deeper and ominously began to tilt downward. It suddenly occurred to her that the truck could roll if it continued to sink further down the rugged hillside.

  She shut off the lights, wipers and engine and stared out at the darkness. What were her options? She could sit there until someone came along who could pull her out, but when would that be? The road didn't look as though a car had been over it in years. She had a sudden picture of herself still sitting there behind the wheel of her Bronco, years later—her skeleton gamely clutching the steering wheel, waiting for help from the mountainside.

  Selena shuddered. As she became aware of her predicament, she grew increasingly alarmed. She was going to have to do something, but what?

  Maybe I can find something to put behind the wheels. She grabbed her jacket, glad she'd had the foresight to bring it, even if it was the middle of June. Mountain nights were notoriously cold. She hadn't counted on the rain to make things worse.

  She found a scarf in the glove compartment and wrapped it around her head, then gingerly climbed out of the truck.

  Because she was pushing against gravity, the door on her side was even heavier man usual, but she didn't dare slide out the passenger side. In fact, she was afraid to shift her weight at all.

  It seemed to take hours before she was out of the truck, standing in the rain and staring with horror at the wheels. They were buried in mud, axle deep.

  She sighed. "Well, that does it" Her voice sounded muted in the steady pounding of the rain. Disconsolately she looked around the road and up the hillside. Her searching gaze paused, then she stared toward the summit of the mountain on which she'd been traveling. She saw a flickering light.

  Selena blinked, afraid she was imagining things. Wiping the rain from her face, she cupped her hand over her eyes and looked once again. There was definitely a glimmer of light through the trees!

  "Wonderful." Her naturally optimistic nature took over once again. Glancing back at the truck, she decided not to bother with her suitcase at the moment. There was time enough to check out the light, then to decide what to do. It didn't look to be far.

  Almost half an hour later, Selena had cause to remember the old adage: distances are deceptive in the mountains. For one thing, she wasn't traveling across level ground. There were several gullies to cross and hillsides to struggle up and slide down, and she quickly developed a healthy respect for those intrepid people who enjoy the great outdoors regardless of conditions.

  There were times when she thought she'd lost her way, then she would reach the top of a hill and see the light ahead, continuing to beckon to her. When she finally reached the top of a long, grueling incline and discovered a small cabin neatly nestled among the giant boulders and trees, she almost cried with relief.

  The light came from a small window near the door of the cabin, and as Selena approached the small structure, the sound of a dog barking ferociously echoed from within. Unless the dog had a megaphone strapped around its neck, it sounded like a very large dog.

  At this point, Selena was past being frightened. She was soaking wet, covered in mud and had almost reached the state of total exhaustion. Even if Attila the Hun turned up inside the mysterious cabin, she was still going to beg for shelter.

  Only it wasn't Attila the Hun who opened the heavy, wooden door.

  The man almost filled the doorway. He was several inches over six feet, with shoulders that seemed to be as wide as the door. Silhouetted as he was she couldn't see his features, but from the way he stood and the
quiet confidence he exuded she guessed he was a man in the prime of his life.

  The barking was explained. A Great Dane stood by his side watching her intently, as though sizing up his next meal.

  While Selena stood there, looking intently at the occupants of the cabin and wondering who they were, they were obviously doing the same.

  The man stepped back and motioned her inside, and Selena gratefully entered, glad to be out of the downpour. She had a pretty good idea of what she looked like—something between a drowned cat and a victim of the Flood.

  He shut the door behind him, closing out the cold, the damp and the dark night, and enclosing them in the warm, cozy room that was dimly lit by the oil lamp she'd seen in the window and by the dancing flames in a massive fireplace.

  Her gaze returned to the man quietly watching her. There was a stillness about him, a gathering of energy that gave her the distinct impression of controlled power. She could feel that he was curious about her, but she sensed that he would not push her for explanations.

  The flickering light revealed a face too strong to be handsome, with a strong jawline and a high-bridged nose—a face that spoke of experience and possible hardship, of determination and courage. There was a hint of danger as well.

  She stared into the silver-blue eyes, wondering about their secrets, wondering how she knew there were secrets. When she could no longer meet that intent, unwavering look, Selena lowered her eyes, then forced herself to look around the room.

  She had no clear idea of what she expected, but the neat, one-room cabin was a surprise. It wasn't being used as temporary shelter—the small cabin was a home.

  The wide-planked hardwood floor glinted in the soft fight and the walls were paneled in knotty pine. Braided rugs dotted the gleaming floor with brilliant color. Bookshelves covered the walls on either side of the stone fireplace. Her gaze fell on a wood-burning cook stove, then moved on to another corner occupied by a king-sized, four-poster bed.

  The kerosene lamp sitting on the polished oak table completed the scene, and Selena felt as if she had stepped into the previous century. An open book rested beside the lamp and a large, overstuffed chair stood nearby. He must have been reading.

  She finally returned her gaze to the man watching her. An amused glint in his eyes made her realize what she must look like, standing there, dripping on the floor.

  Even the dog became bored with its inspection; it ambled over to the fireplace and folded itself into the size of a small camel before the fire.

  The man seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of a sensible remark. Her most lamentable trait, in her own eyes, was her propensity for facetious remarks whenever she was nervous.

  "Grizzly Adams, I presume?" she asked in her own famous, husky drawl.

  Laughter sparkled in his silver eyes as they shone in the firelight.

  "Close. My name is Adam."

  He appeared unsurprised at her late-night visit, as though drop-ins on a stormy night were nothing out of the ordinary.

  "Well, I'm afraid I'm not Eve, Adam. My name is Selena Stanford." She wondered if he recognized her.

  He didn't. Well, that certainly puts you in your place, doesn't it? Nothing like a drop or two of humility to build character.

  He tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Wouldn't you like to get out of those dripping clothes?"

  Her gaze darted back to his face. He seemed serious enough, but the dancing light in his eyes let her know he appreciated the irony of his suggestion.

  She gave a breathless chuckle. "My, but you are direct. Most men spend at least a few hours in my company before making such a suggestion."

  A slow smile appeared on his face and Selena discovered that the smile changed his rather harsh appearance. He was attractive— very attractive, but this was the last thing she should be thinking about at the moment. She glanced down at the pool of water forming at her feet. He was right. She needed to get out of her wet clothes.

  She watched him as he walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a large towel. Then he knelt beside the bed and pulled out a drawer underneath and extracted a pair of jeans and a plaid, flannel shirt.

  Turning back to her he said,* 'I'm afraid I'm not enough of a gentleman to leave the room, but I promise to turn my back while you change."

  Selena stared down at herself and knew she had no choice. She was shaking with cold as well as nervousness. Gingerly accepting the clothes, she watched him go over to the stove and place a kettle on top. "I'll make you some coffee. Are you hungry?"

  Feeling as though she'd stepped onto a television set without knowing her lines, she nodded, then realized he couldn't see her.

  "Uh, yes. I am hungry and the coffee sounds marvelous."

  She edged over to the fire, making sure she didn't disturb the dog that lay there, its massive head resting on crossed paws. She peeled off her jacket and scarf and began to dry her hair.

  "What's your dog's name?"

  "Duke."

  Duke and Adam. Royalty and the first man surviving together on the mountaintop. She hastily unbuttoned her blouse and grabbed his shirt. Although Selena was tall, the shirt swallowed her, coming almost to her knees. She slid her jeans off, relieved to be out of them She sat down on the edge of the couch and hastily dried her legs. The heat radiating from the fire began to work its magic on her frozen legs and feet.

  Her brain seemed to have quit functioning. Too many emotions and sensations circled around within her, and she felt her system had gone into overload. Selina had no fear of the stranger whose home she'd invaded, and she couldn't understand why.

  Perhaps she wasn't afraid because she didn't feel that any of this was taking place. Too much had happened to her in too short a time for her to be able to take it in and evaluate it

  "I'm really sorry about barging in on you like this," she said, as she tried once again to dry her hair. "I must have missed my turn, and by the time I realized it, I couldn't find a place to turn around."

  "Where were you going?"

  "I was going to camp near the park ranger's station. Do you know where that is?"

  He turned around and looked at her in surprise. "You were trying to find the park ranger?"

  "Yes."

  He started laughing. "You're on the wrong side of the mountain for that. Or didn't you know?"

  She stared at him in dismay. "You're kidding."

  "No. There's only one road that leads to this side from the park—you must have found it."

  "You mean this isn't part of Yosemite?"

  "No."

  "Oh, that's just great."

  "Don't worry about it. When this rain lets up, I'll help you turn your car around. You can always follow the road back down, and in the daylight you probably won't have any trouble finding the right turnoff."

  "Except for one minor problem. My Bronco has all four wheels buried in the mud." Her disgust was so eloquent that Adam burst out laughing.

  She stared at him, amazed at the change in his face that had been almost stern in repose.

  She reluctantly smiled in response.

  "So you are truly a captive of the mountain tonight?"

  "Unfortunately."

  He glanced out the window. "You were lucky to find me. I thought you'd come up from the eastern side."

  She shook her head, and her drying hair gracefully fell around her shoulders.

  "I'm here through sheer luck, the first Fve had in some time." She gazed at the firelight in quiet contemplation.

  Adam set a bowl and a steaming cup of coffee on the table. He glanced at the woman by the fire and smiled. She looked like a young girl in the oversized shirt. It looked like a dress on her, the collar buttoned neatly under her chin. Her long, slender legs were very shapely and ended in small ankles and bare feet.

  Adam had needed the solitude of the last several months—he had not missed having company of any kind, so he was surprised to recognize the pleasure he fe
lt at having this woman suddenly appear. You'd better watch yourself. You're vulnerable at the moment and you can't afford to let her guess that.

  "Here's your coffee and some stew left over from my dinner."

  Selena looked up from studying the fire and smiled. Her smile was one of the beautiful things about her, and he could feel his body reacting to her. Careful, old boy.

  "Thank you. You're being very kind."

  She stepped off the warm rug and paused, her bare toes touching the polished floor.

  He spun around and went back to the drawer under the bed. "I'm sorry. I forgot about your feet. Here's a pair of socks that should help."

  He handed a pair of thick socks to her, and Selena sat down at the table and pulled them over her cold feet. They felt heavenly. They were tubular socks so that she was able to pull them high on her legs. They came to her knees, and she felt well covered and warm.

  Selena picked up the spoon and tasted the stew. It was delicious. Stopping to take a sip of the coffee, she sighed. "Do you have any idea how good this tastes?"

  He smiled, a slow half-smile that did queer things to Selena's stomach. She must be hungrier than she thought. "I have an idea. I've been cold and hungry before, myself."

  "Oh?" She waited, hoping he would elaborate, but when he didn't, she decided to probe gently. "How long have you lived up here?"

  "Almost a year."

  "A year! Why would you want to stay up here for so long?"

  "To commune with nature?" he whimsically suggested.

  "That's a lot of communing. Wasn't it cold up here during the past winter?"

  "That's one word for it. I have a kerosene heater that helped the fireplace. And I'm not totally cut off from civilization. I've got a Jeep that gets me where I want to go."

  She remembered that she'd found his place from the wrong side. Maybe it wasn't as isolated as it seemed to her. In fact, she had a strong hunch that the whole area would look entirely different to her in the sunlight. She could only hope the sun would be shining the next day.

  "What are you doing coming up here camping?" he asked with interest.