by Devon McKay
“Yep. I built it myself.” He glanced up at the cabin, a proud smile splitting across his features.
She sucked in a ragged breath of air. When the man smiled, it was easy to forget about his quick-witted words, which stung like a whip. For heaven’s sake, when he smiled, she damn near forgot her name.
“I’ve never seen a cabin like it before. My stars, Blake. It’s truly amazing,” she stated dumbfounded. “You actually built this?”
Her gaze was drawn to the intricate wood work. It must have taken years to prefect. She had seen houses built by top notch construction companies not nearly as impressive as this two story cabin.
“With these two hands.”
He held forth his calloused palms and her heartbeat skipped. For some reason, a simple grin and showcasing hard-working hands did something to her. Why on earth the sight had such an effect on her was beyond words, but her heart hammered in her chest as if it was trying to beat its way out. For a decadent second, she allowed her mind to roam, imagining them ravishing her body.
Quickly, Sam regained her senses, studying his profile as he admired his masterpiece. How could she even toy with such an idea? The man obviously couldn’t stand her. The thought didn’t sit well, but she couldn’t change the way he felt. Why did it seem to matter so much then?
Blake turned back and reached up to help her down. His grip stationed on her hips as he lifted her without effort off the horse. Her breasts skimmed across the unyielding hardness of his chest before her feet hit the ground.
This was a good reason why, and she fought against the pool of desire the slight touch evoked.
“It must have taken you forever,” she said, attempting to regain her composure—an impossible task with legs refusing to hold her weight.
Damn it, she cursed under her breath, reminding herself he was just a man.
Handsome, but made of stone.
So what if he stole her breath away every time he glanced in her direction. In fact, her head was spinning now, and they were merely holding a conversation. Such a man could do irreparable damage.
“It did,” he agreed without arrogance, and she was drawn back to the cabin. “I had some help from Denali and his family, but I did most of the work myself.”
“Is it okay if I take a picture?”
He answered only with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
“I know you don’t want me nosing around your property. But, it’s not for work. See? I’ll use my dinosaur.” Sam held up the 35 mm and quickly explained, “It’s for my personal portfolio. I promise.”
Blake shredded her with a steely gaze before finally nodding his head. “Yeah, knock yourself out. I’ve got to unsaddle these horses and brush them down anyway.” He spun away and began removing her horse’s saddle.
Sam captured several angles of the cabin, perfectly highlighted by the wilderness and the mid-morning rays of sun. A blurry movement off to her right diverted her attention. She focused her camera lens and dialed in on an animal no taller than a dog.
A baby moose?
Her heartbeat raced. Intent on taking the perfect picture, she inhaled a deep breath and took her time. After clicking several photos, she replaced the lens cap and slipped the camera gingerly around her neck.
Seeing Blake out of the corner of her eye, she motioned to him to come closer with her free hand. “Blake,” she whispered, loud enough to capture his attention. “Shh, I don’t want you to scare it.” She shushed him with a finger across her lips as she pointed into the trees. “It’s an animal…baby moose, I think.”
Excited, she clamped onto his arm and spared a quick glance to read his reaction. Not detoured by the blank emotion on his face, she added, “Do you know how many people get killed by moose in Alaska every year? It’s mostly mothers protecting their young…” A silent alarm went off in her head and broke through her thoughts. “Oh…my word. We have to get out of here. The mother…” she warned, pulling at his sleeve and heading toward the cabin. Abruptly, she stopped mid-stride. “Wait. Where are the kids?”
He shrugged his shoulders. The promise of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They probably walked home.”
“Home? Alone?” she squealed as fear and anxiety grew with every breath. Determined, she tried to point out the danger. “Didn’t you just hear me? The mama can’t be too far.”
“Are you telling me you’re scared of Charlie?” he asked with a solemn expression before a full grin finally took over. “He’s just a baby.”
“You named it?”
“Of course I named him. Kind of looks like a Charlie, don’t you think? He’s just one of many reasons I didn’t want you nosing around here. And he’s fine…as long as you leave him alone. That’s where the problems start, when people treat wild animals like pets. Or worse—kill them for a pair of antlers.” Blake wiggled out of her grasp and turned back toward the horses. “Now, I have a lot of work to do. If you want to help, I could use it. Brushing down your horse would be a great start.” Before she could even answer, he tossed her a large, round brush.
With quick reflexes, she caught the grooming utensil, casting a guarded glance in his direction.
“Like this.” He made a circular motion in the air.
She nodded, making her way back to Dixie. “I’d never do anything like that. I respect wildlife. And just so you know, I’m not as worried about Charlie as I am his mother.” Her confession garnished a stern look.
“Don’t be. He doesn’t have a mother. Not anymore. I brought him here so he’d have a fighting chance. If you look closely, you can see a makeshift barrier protecting him somewhat, yet still allowing space for him to forage.”
“Is she…dead?” Sam turned back to where she’d first spotted the animal. Squinting, she was able to make the faint outline of a fence.
“Yeah. You can thank a couple of poachers, typical tourists, for leaving him without a mother. And I’m sure there will be plenty more Charlie’s out there, once your damn brochure is done.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Doesn’t make sense. Females don’t have antlers.” She shot him a disparaging glance before turning back to brush Dixie’s back as images of orphaned moose imprinted themselves in her head. Antlers or not, he was right. Her advertisement could, and more than likely would, bring predators.
Poachers were something she hadn’t considered. Not unlike those who came to Florida—there was plenty of alligator shoes around to prove the point.
“Do you think the kids are safe?” She changed the subject, wanting to tread on safer ground.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?” He lifted the heavy leather saddle off of his horse’s back. Taut muscles tightened, then flexed under the cotton of his flannel shirt.
Glued to the sight, she stopped brushing Dixie’s back, unable to glance away. He laid the saddle on the top rail of the fence, turning in time to see her watching him.
As if doused with ice cold water, she returned her focus back to the kids. “I hardly think three children know their way home in a forest. Especially with bears, moose, and Lord knows what else out there in those woods.”
“Believe me, those kids know exactly what to do if they come across a moose or a bear,” he snarled.
Her doubts apparently brought forward his fierce protectiveness. And she had a feeling their temporary truce had come to an end.
“Here, kids are born independent. Keetna shot his first kill last season. The moose fed his tribe for most of the winter. And Little Su? Put a fishing rod in her hand and the village will never go hungry.” He took a step toward her, filling in the gap between them. “This is a harsh country to live in. A lot of Alaskans wear a firearm strapped to their side like another appendage.” He pointed to the gun on his belt. “Folks around here don’t welcome outsiders. Most like their privacy and want to keep it that way. We don’t like to share. Our land…or anything else, for that matter. So, as far as the children’s safety is concerned, you don’t have anything to worr
y about. They know what to do in these woods. You, however, I’m not so sure about. You are in dangerous territory…and I’m not just talking about Alaska.”
The low, gravel sound of his voice was a daunting mix of sexy and dangerous, and his scalding meaning sizzled between them.
Unconsciously, she took a step back. The wooden slab of the fence bit into her back, preventing her from going farther.
He braced his palms against the railings, engaging her within the unyielding frame of his body. “I’m having trouble keeping my hands off of you, despite the fact you stand for everything I’m against.”
Temptation stirred within her traitorous body and stole away all rational thought. Picturing images she preferred not to share, Sam tried to blink away the naked fantasy of entwined bodies and calloused hands discovering every part of her.
He brushed a lock of hair off her face with a surprisingly gentle touch. A sudden warmth spread through her veins as the heat of his index finger traced lightly along her cheekbone. Firmly, he cupped her chin and drew her closer. With his sights on her mouth, he hesitated. Locking gazes, he held her captive. A battle brewed within the hazel depths.
“I’d better walk you to your cabin before I do something I’ll regret.” His words, laced with warning, brushed against her lips.
A second later, he was gone.
Chapter 8
Regret?
Kissing me would be something he would later regret?
Sam silently ranted as she followed Blake through the woods. The trail wasn’t wide, but she could see it had been used frequently enough that perhaps even a novice like herself could find her way home again without guidance.
After several minutes, she could make out a dark outline of a large structure through the heavy foliage. They continued on the path until a small clearing opened up to the back side of her rental. Without a word, he thrust his arm in the air and pointed toward the front before turning back in the direction of his house.
Blake’s words stung as she watched him disappear into the woods. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t imagined kissing him herself. A scowl furrowed her brow. Only every waking moment since she’d met him.
Why?
Why was she so attracted to him? Blake obviously didn’t want her. Just her body. And I don’t want him, she lied to herself. He was everything she stood against. Snappy, impatient, and surly. And, how could she forget? Grumpy. His emotions changed as often as the weather.
Of course, he had to be so damn appealing in his natural, rugged way. A shudder of lust shot through her insides for the hundredth time today. None of which mattered. The barbarian had dismissed her.
Sam turned around and cursed, making her way into the cabin. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d be happy to see the luxurious “Hilton” again. A smirk threatened the corners of her lips. For some reason, she had warmed up to the name.
In fact, today, it seemed almost humorous in spite of her mood. The moment didn’t last long, though, as her thoughts quickly returned to Blake. What if he had kissed her? What if his mouth had found hers?
Again, the lustful urge she had somehow managed to dampen resurfaced, heating her insides. In an attempt to clear her head, she spared a quick glance around the cabin. She didn’t want to think of what ifs…not now. However, as her stare settled on the unkempt bed, she found the new resolution almost impossible.
Work. Now would be the perfect time to get started. Lord knew she needed the distraction. She could catch up on her notes and keep her thoughts off of Blake…and his mouth.
Frustrated, she tore off the cowboy hat he had graced her with and tossed it on the bed.
A blurred streak of brown, adorned with black and white spikes, ran across the cabin floor. Jumping back, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A porcupine!
Calming her rapid heartbeat, Sam was careful not to make any more sudden movements, knowing a porcupine’s quills were its defense mechanism. Slowly, she backed out of the small space they shared.
With the door ajar, she hoped the animal would accept the invitation to exit her home. After several minutes, she realized it wasn’t going to be so easy, leaving her with two choices: wait it out or go back to Blake.
She decided to take her chances and play the waiting game.
After an impatient hour, Sam had gathered enough courage to ease her way back onto the porch and peer through the window. She couldn’t see the porcupine, but knew it hadn’t left yet, as she’d kept her gaze glued to the door the whole time. She eased her way to the porch, but stopped as soon as a sudden thought dawned on her—Blake. The man hated her so much he put a wild animal into her cabin. Anything to rid his beloved state of people like her. Of all the low down, rotten things he could’ve done this was beyond the lowest.
Well, then he can just get the damn animal out of there, too.
Determined to give him a piece of her mind, she headed back into the woods with a vengeance. Staying on the trail, she was far too angry to be afraid of what could be lurking in the forest.
Fueled by rage, she got to his cabin in five minutes and found him still tending to his horses. Now shirtless, the man brushed down a striking white horse with brown spots. As angry as she was, she almost didn’t notice the hard muscles defining his chest.
Almost.
“How could you? What if the damn thing had attacked me? Or shot its quills at me? Or whatever porcupines do?” Sam spat, furiously noting the way his bronze torso glistened with a light sheen of sweat.
“What are you talking about?” He glanced up nonchalantly, appearing to be unperturbed by her approach, before returning his attention back to the horse.
As if he’d been expecting me.
Sam’s temper returned in full force. It was irritating how the man was able to contain himself. He simply continued to brush the horse as if he had nothing to do with the odd, prickly animal making itself at home in her cabin.
“The porcupine. What do you think I’m talking about? How could you?”
His hand twitched, and he stopped brushing. He spun to face her, showcasing a wide grin. “Classic. I wish I would’ve thought of it. Sam, you give me way too much credit,” he said, then went back to rubbing down the horse as a low rumble of laughter escaped him. “It’s just part of living with nature. Sometimes your paths cross.”
“You mean…you didn’t…” The foolishness of her accusation sank in, and her face burned.
He didn’t answer. At this point, there was no need; Sam knew she’d made a grave mistake…in more ways than one. She should’ve never come back to his ranch. Not with this unsettled energy between them.
“Nope. And I can’t help you at the moment either. The horses come first. As soon as I finish with Stella here, I’m going for another ride. I still have to exercise her and Gracie. Sure be nice if they both had riders.” He spared a glance in her direction before returning his focus back to the horse.
“I can…I’ll ride one,” Sam mustered.
“Good. Afterwards, we can tend to your porcupine problem. Just so you know, there isn’t a whole lot we can do. You leave the cabin door open?”
The muscles of his right arm contracted with a brush stroke. Warmth traveled through her body like hot, molten lava. Mutely, Sam nodded as anger began to wane into desire.
The display of his muscular, unclothed chest had done more to her than she was willing to admit. She allowed her gaze to travel the length of his body, settling on the way his low-riding jeans rested on his lean hips. She licked her suddenly parched lips.
“You may have to stay here a night or two until your roommate decides to move on.”
Sam shook her head again, only half-listening as she silently continued to praise his physical assets. Suddenly, his words sank in and wakened her out of the passion-induced stupor. Oh Lord, a night or two? Then what…regrets? Sam didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. There was no telling what she would do.
“No,” she all but shouted, spooking the ho
rse, who pinned its ears back and cast a wary, sideways glance in her direction. She softened her tone. “I mean, I’m sure it won’t be necessary. More than likely I could stay in one of the other cabins.”
Blake, in turn, battered her with a suspicious glare and placed the brush on the fence rail. “Okay, then, I’m putting you back to work. It’ll be a while before we get to your cabin. Are you up for another ride? Not too sore?”
She swallowed hard as his words wreaked havoc in her head. And what if he couldn’t keep his hands to himself? Or she hers for that matter? The two of them alone in the woods, surrounded by earthy wilderness and the dark cloak of the trees…
Sam sucked in a ragged breath. How would she ever get through this? Especially if he remained shirtless?
Trying to regain some kind of composure, she picked up his shirt. Fighting the urge to bring the material up to her nose and sniff it, she handed it to him.
He accepted the flannel and slipped it on, but didn’t button the front. The result was even more seductive. Averting her gaze, she peered into the forest. What was wrong with her? He was only a man. So what if at the moment he reminded her of a Greek statue? He was still moody and ill-tempered.
Besides, she refused to be anyone’s regret.
“You’ll be riding Stella here. Gracie’s a little…temperamental,” Blake said, regaining her attention as he placed a thick, rectangular blanket on the spotted horse’s back. A saddle followed.
Sam shook her head. Stella? The mammoth beast should’ve been named Godzilla. This horse, a good foot taller than the one she rode this morning, was terrifying. Perhaps she’d have better luck with the other horse. A bad attitude she could handle. Sure beat falling six feet to her death.
“I don’t think so,” she refused adamantly. “You ride it.”
Without a moment’s notice, his arms wrapped around her, and she was lifted into the air. Her aching backside landed on the hard saddle of the enormous mammal’s back. Vehemently, she spat a curse under her breath, and Blake rewarded her with a noteworthy grin. Stella let out a noncompliant curse of her own and snorted loudly as her enormous hoof pawed the ground. Sam’s heartrate spiked, and she quickly grasped the horn with a death grip.