Anniversary of Brother’s Death.” He shrugged and lowered his hands.
A knife twisted in Nick’s gut. “I will not use Cody’s death to bolster my career.”
“Not just your career. Thunderbird wants the exposure. They are fully on board with Ms. Frost’s idea for a feature story on you. This will be good exposure for them.”
Nick snorted. “Great. And if I refuse?”
“You can tell Lucas Davenport.” Gordon took out his cell phone. “You want me to get him on the line?”
As much as it galled him, Nick shook his head.
Gordon put his phone back in his pocket. “Northwest Edition wants to do a human-interest story. Their reporter, Julie, is a sweet gal and easy on the eyes.”
“Jules is great,” Nick said, figuring better the enemy you know.
“Tell me you didn’t break her heart.”
Nick scoffed. “Naw. Nothing like that.”
She’d been out of his league then. Now she was just plain dangerous. A reporter. His mind struggled to wrap around the concept.
Gordon rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Local girl, local guy. It’s all good.”
Gordon was always working the angles. “I don’t know about this.”
“I worked out a deal with the station manager that we reserve the right to edit the piece or scrap the whole thing if it doesn’t meet with our approval. Does that help?”
A small consolation. One he could live with. “I suppose.”
“Good. She’s waiting to come talk with you,” Gordon said. “I told the nurse to give me ten minutes and then send her in.”
Nick wasn’t surprised to hear she was still at the hospital. She wanted her story. “Oh, by the way, Kitty followed me home to Bend. I saw her in the crowd tonight.”
Katherine “Kitty” Rogers, a ski groupie, had been hounding him for the past year. When she’d first starting hanging around the competitions, making it clear she was there to see him, he’d been flattered. Amused, even, the first two or three times she appeared in the crowd. But then it started to creep him out. Last month she’d gone so far as to find his hotel room in Colorado and wait outside his door. She’d made it clear she was willing to be more than just an adoring fan. There was something slightly off about her that made him wary.
Gordon wrinkled his nose. “She’s your biggest fan.”
“She’s taking it to the extreme.”
“Excuse me.” The nurse stood in the doorway. “There are two women waiting to see you, Mr. Walsh. A Julie Frost and a Kitty Rogers.”
Of course Kitty was here. Nick nearly laughed at the irony. “Send in Jules, not Kitty.”
The nurse nodded and retreated.
“And the hits just keep on coming,” Nick commented dryly.
A few minutes later Julie knocked on the door frame.
“Come on in.” Nick drank in the sight of her. The pink color of her outfit heightened the rosy hue of her cheeks and brightened her crystal-blue eyes. Her sleek blond braid made him wonder if she was as tightly coiled. What would she do if he reached out and undid the band holding the strands together?
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” she said, moving farther into the room.
“Much, thank you.” He didn’t like being in such a vulnerable position, trapped in bed wearing a hospital gown and totally at a disadvantage with a lovely lady.
“There’s a woman out there waiting to see you,” Julie said. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No,” Nick said quickly and exchanged a glance with Gordon.
Gordon stood. “Here, sit. I’ll take care of that situation.”
Nick sent Gordon a grateful nod. He hoped Gordon would be able to send Kitty on her way. There was something in the woman’s eyes that gave him the same feeling that had seized him when his boot had shifted in the ski binding today.
Julie took a seat and pulled out a notebook from the big flowered shoulder bag that she dropped at her feet.
So she wanted to get down to business. He watched her slender hands flip open the pad, her pen poised. There was a noticeable lack of a wedding ring. Curious, he asked, “Where’s Mr. Frost tonight?”
Julie grinned. “Afraid he’ll come storming in, jealous over me being at your bedside?”
“I like to be prepared.”
She laughed. “Frost is my stage name. Rolls off the tongue better than Tipton. There’s no mister attached to it or me.”
“You never married?” He’d figured she’d have found some intellectual at the fancy college she’d surely attended and be happily married by now.
Her gaze dropped to her hands. She fiddled with the pen. A shadow crossed over her face. “No. Never found the right guy.”
“Too picky?”
Her gaze shot up to meet his. Indignation flared in the light blue depths. “No. That’s not it all. Why would you say that?”
He’d struck a nerve. Which made him more curious and stirred an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. Had someone hurt her? The thought didn’t settle well. “I remember in high school you didn’t date. I figured you were holding out for a brainiac like yourself.” At least that was what he’d told himself when he’d chickened out and didn’t ask her to homecoming their junior year. Of course that was before he’d had his talk with Dad and realized falling in love, making a commitment, meant giving up on his dreams. Something he had no intention of ever allowing.
A rueful twist touched her mouth, drawing his gaze again. “I didn’t date in high school because no one asked.”
He felt like a heel. “I should have asked you.”
She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I would have liked that.”
“If you drop this whole interview thing, we could go on a date.” It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. Dating did not equal commitment. At least not to him, which was why he rarely dated.
She inhaled sharply. “That would be like asking me to stop breathing, Nick.”
“Good thing I know CPR.”
She rolled her eyes. “You promised to tell me why you have a bodyguard,” she said briskly. “And why did you think the ambulance crash wasn’t an accident?”
So much for dating her. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”
THREE
