Melting the Ice Read Online Free Page B

“Mac’s a legend in media circles. So why’d you quit? What brought you here?” To this media backwater. The words hung unsaid.
    She forced a smile. “I needed a change. And I like the skiing.”
    Mark raised his brows, studying her. She had an uneasy feeling about him. Like he could see into her, like he knew something. She forced the lettuce into her mouth.
    Al was watching her, too. She’d never spoken to him about Mac. But she figured he knew she was the daughter of the famous Canadian international correspondent. She loved Al for the fact that he never pried, that he sensed her need to put the past away. That he just let her be while the scabs of her wound grew strong.
    She saw Gunter Schmidt studying her, too, as if the fact she was Mac’s daughter suddenly meant she had to be judged by new standards. But the plastic surgeon made no comment. He pushed his empty plate to one side. “Well, that was good.” Gunter dabbed the corners of his mouth neatly with his napkin. “But my patients, they are waiting.” He called for the check.
    Rex watched as the man with gray-flecked hair called for the bill.
    So, Hannah knew Ken Mitchell. No matter how he looked at it, he was not going to be able to avoid her. She was working her way into his investigation. He’d need to ask her about Mitchell. And the other man, the one tugging at his memory.
    He watched them stand, say their goodbyes. Hannah shook Mitchell’s hand. She looked unhappy. It tore at him.
    Do you remember me, Hannah McGuire? Do you hate me? What is making you sad, my lovely? God he wanted to ask her those questions. He’d have to shelve those for another life. Right now he needed to ask her about Mitchell. But how to approach her after all these years? For the first time in his adult life, Rex Logan felt lost. Helpless. He hadn’t planned for this. The cold, calculating, fearless agent was not only lost, he was afraid. But with the anxiety that sloshed in his belly was a sharp little zing. A spike of adrenaline. Unwanted, but there. It hummed through him at the thought of coming face-to-face with Hannah McGuire, hearing the smokiness of her voice, seeing those tiny forest-green flecks in her gold leonine eyes.
    But not now. Not yet. He wasn’t ready. Right now he’d tail Mitchell. He watched them make for the exit, giving them time.
    Mark Bamfield held out his hand. “Good to meet you, Al, Gunter. Thanks for inviting me to join you.”
    He turned to Hannah and took her hand in his. “Nice to see you again, Hannah. Maybe dinner sometime?”
    She just nodded and watched him go. He’d left her unsettled, off-kilter.
    “You okay, Hannah?”
    “Yeah, Gunter. Just tired. Thanks for lunch.”
    “Anytime. You look after Al now, ja?”
    “Ja, Ja.” Al jokingly waved his friend off, mimicking his raspy German accent. “You go back to your filthy-rich patients. I can take care of myself.”
    Hannah affectionately took Al by the arm as they made their way down the pedestrian walkway back to the office. Sometimes she felt he was the father she never really had. “So you can look after yourself, huh?”
    “Damn right. Just need a little time.” To find out what really happened to Amy. The words went unsaid. Hannah knew Al wouldn’t heal until he had the answer.
    The sun was warm on their backs as they strolled through the summer crowds. Much warmer than an hour ago when Hannah had needed the extra comfort of her sweater. She realized suddenly it was missing.
    “Oh, Al, my sweater. I must have left it at the restaurant. You go on ahead. I’ll see you back at the office.”
    “No, no. I’ll come with you. Too nice out. Any excuse to extend my break is welcome.” He fell in step with her as she headed quickly back to the Black Diamond.
    Al waited at the restaurant entrance as Hannah stepped up onto the patio and made her way back to the table. They had been gone only minutes. Her sweater was still draped over the back of the chair.
    She gathered it