Desire in the Arctic

by Hoff, Stacy

  “From what?”

  “Nothing you need to know about.”

  “It must be another bear.” The hope which had been in her voice a second ago was replaced with quivering fear.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” Her shoulders visibly relaxed a bit, an inch further down from her ears. She was looking at him quizzically though, her head cocked to the side as if trying to gauge his words for truthfulness.

  “It is good, isn’t it?” she asked. “Nothing is worse than a bear. Right?”

  “Can we debate this later? We’ve got to move.”

  “Are you going to tell me what it was?”

  “No.” He was walking again now, her body still borne by him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it doesn’t have a good reputation. But since I’m going to keep you safe there’s no need to worry about it.”

  He could sense her body go heavy, becoming dead weight. “Oh my God, it’s a wolf, isn’t it? A lone wolf on the prowl. Maybe it got separated from its pack because it’s injured. Which will make it double aggressive, right?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m going to go crazy if you don’t tell me.”

  He sighed. It’d be easier to fight the creature that left the marks than her. And much less scary. “The tracks were made by a wolverine.”

  Despite her apparent fear, she burst out laughing. Her body vibrated from it.

  He held her tighter so as not to drop her. “I would have told you right off if I knew this was going to be your reaction.”

  “You’re telling me a Marvel Comic Book character is in Gates of the Arctic National Park with us. How’d he get here? Wolverine can’t fly, and a plane can’t land with all these trees . . .”

  “Are you done yet, Kathy Griffin?”

  “Not hardly. Are the rest of the X-Men going to join us, too?”

  He flinched. “If you keep this up, I’m going to assume you’re feeling well again and make you walk the rest of the way.”

  “No you won’t,” she quipped, grabbing on to him tighter and making doe-eyes at him.

  Shit, she’s right. The woman should be an X-Man herself. She can read minds. “Wolverines are real. They are nasty animals, small but lethal. The males can get to be about the size of a small bear. Powerful predators that’ve been known to take down huge animals like full-grown elk and moose. They’ve got powerful jaws, strong muscles, and sharp claws. Plus, they can be tough to kill or injure because they’ve got thick hide. Worse, they’re very agile in the snow, as you can see. Basically, you don’t want to encounter one. Ever.”

  He could feel her head strain to look up at him. He did his best to keep his eyes on where he was going. Scanning for his earlier trail marks while watching where he was going was not easy. Then again, dealing with her wasn’t easy, either. But maybe I shouldn’t have told her all that.

  Ana fell silent, which was a relief. The only sound heard was his sloshing through the snow. They trudged on for what seemed to be hours.

  At last, a break in the clouds let in a brief ray of sunlight that illuminated the cabin in the distance. “We made it,” he said, smiling down at her.

  For once, Ana didn’t respond. Was she asleep? Or too ill to maintain consciousness? Redd trembled.

  Chapter 17

  Ana woke up to a feeling of warmth. Her eyelids fluttered in a failed attempt to open. They were heavy and stiff, along with the rest of her body. It felt like she hadn’t moved in a thousand years. Yet somehow her heavy limbs were warming up. Regaining blood flow and movement.

  Ignoring her eyes for the moment, she focused on wiggling her toes. With effort, the big toes stirred to life. The smaller toes followed along a few seconds later. At least they aren’t frostbitten. All these little piggies made it home.

  Toe movement seemed a major accomplishment. It gave her the hope to keep testing. Tentatively, she tried moving her fingers. First the right hand. Ahhh, there they go. Then the left. C’mon, pinky, you can do it! It was a miracle. Maybe she could get her eyelids equally blessed.

  With much effort she opened her eyes to bright light. A fire was roaring close by, though she had to blink few times to focus. We must have made it to the cabin. The man is a wilderness genius.

  Soon she could make out a red glow coming from a black potbellied stove. A smoky, musty scent filled the air. A popping sound emanated. Redd had obviously managed to start a fire and get wood burning. She furrowed her brows, realizing he wasn’t in the tiny cabin. Maybe he was out getting more wood?

  His presence was missed. Even in this seemingly safe cabin, she felt vulnerable without him. Not just for his physical presence but his mental and emotional presence, too. Redd had a way of calming her down and bolstering her up at the same time. She wished that one of those times could be now. Where is he?

  Maybe she should go out and look for him. A brief scan of the room revealed he’d taken the gun. It was a relief to know he’d be safe, though upsetting to think the flare gun and pepper spray were her only protection. She was too afraid to use the pepper spray. And firing the flare would get her out of a horrible survival situation but get her into a horrible unemployment situation. If she, the producer of The Arctic Gladiators, gave up, it would be unforgivable to Teleworld. And to herself.

  Resolved to continue on, she slowly stretched out her aching muscles and twisted herself around only to find she was in her underwear on a mattress on the floor with a heavy wool blanket wrapped around her. Oh! Heat bloomed across her cheeks, but not from the fire. Blinking in confusion, she saw her coat, shoes, and clothing lying on the floor near the stove, a small pool of water seeping out around them. Wanting to get dressed, she reached out to touch her pants but the frozen, wet fabric made her shudder. She placed her hand under her armpit for warmth. No wonder he took my clothes off.

  But the rational explanation did nothing to alleviate the embarrassment. More horrifying than being barely dressed in front of Redd was being barely dressed in front of the television audience. She scanned the room to see if the video camera was set up. Since the only red light came from the stove, however, the video machine was either in a backpack or lost somewhere in the forest. Either way, Mark would be furious. But she had bigger concerns than her job right now. Such as, drying off. And making sure Redd was okay.

  She tossed the heavy wool blanket off and crawled over to her backpack. If she remembered correctly there were some extra clothing items in there. Unless she had already been wearing them all. One by one, she took out the bag’s contents, to no avail. Before she could zip the bag closed a shadow loomed over her.

  She froze. The air around her suddenly turned icy as well. Her heart banged in her chest. She dared not turn to see.

  “Glad to see you’re up.”

  “Redd?” Ana swung around. Redd stood a few feet away dripping frozen water on the wood floor.

  “Yeah. Who did you think it was? The abominable snowman?” he quipped, pulling off his parka.

  “You startled me.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. Guess my days of covert operations are still in me,” he joked. “I’m also sorry to have taken your clothes off. You passed out again and it wasn’t wise to let you stay in them.”

  “Thanks.” Wrapping the blanket carefully around her wasn’t easy considering an even bigger distraction—he was taking his clothes off, too. “Er, what are you doing?”

  “Same thing as you, drying out.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “I’ve been outdoors while you slept. It took time to get wood so I could get the stove going. It was nearly as cold inside as it was out. But everything is heating up nicely.” Redd’s multiple shirts were off, his chest exposed. He plopped himself down on the floor and tu
gged off his boots. In a second they were tossed aside. His pants followed.

  Ana quivered, blaming it on the cold.

  Redd sat down next to her on the floor and near the stove. The only thing he had on was his underwear. The dark-blue boxers had some kind of design on them. She couldn’t make out what. Paisley? Or colorful, mosaic peanuts?

  He held up his arms and hands toward the stove, clearly hoping to warm them faster. “Sorry,” he murmured. “There are no more blankets. I did find this towel. I’ll throw it around me as soon as I get some heat under my skin. Right now, I don’t want anything between me and the fire.” He shot her a grin. “Be glad I’m leaving my tighty-whities on for ya.”

  She squinted. “They don’t look tight, or white. What’s the pattern? I can’t make it out.”

  “Reindeer.”

  “Really? Those are some funky-looking reindeer.”

  “I like them. They’re in Technicolor. I picked them out in honor of our Northern locale.”

  She giggled. “Christmas in June.” Now that’s a present any girl would want.

  “No chimney for Santa to pop in,” Redd pointed out. “We’ve only got the pipe from the potbellied stove.”

  “Good. I didn’t need a chaperone any way.” She gave him a playful wink. He rolled his eyes at her, despite laughing.

  Whatever it was the military made their men do to stay fit, she approved. Redd’s body was more amazing than she had even guessed. Though he sat hunched over, his arms around his knees and reindeer around his waist, there was no mistaking the tight curves and ripped muscles in his abs. His back, legs, and thighs were chiseled with precision. From neck to toes, he was more god than man.

  A glance at her own body, however, sobered her. Maybe I should join the military, too. Or at least enroll in a fitness boot camp.

  “Still cold?” he asked.

  “I’m warming up. Thanks for asking.” She paused. “Thanks for everything, actually. I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’re pretty tough,” he answered casually.

  The neutral expression he donned was his norm. It could mean anything or nothing at all. The only certainty was that the man’s face was every bit as beautiful as his body. From cheekbone to cheekbone, and from neckline to hairline, there was an understated elegance. A beard was setting in. The hair only enhanced the rugged effect.

  A crazy thought hit her. Good thing I waxed my legs or I’d be looking rugged, too. Not looking pristine for him was more upsetting than she cared to admit.

  Redd’s hunky body shifted to get a better angle of the fire.

  He should have been a model. But no, he would have hated that. There was something about Redd that needed to save people. The military was a perfect fit. “Redd?”

  “Um-hmm?”

  “What are you going to do now that you’ve retired from the Marine Corps?”

  His body stiffened. His mouth thinned. “What?”

  “The money? What are you going to do with the prize money?”

  “Is this for your cameras?”

  “No. I was just curious.” She jolted. “Oh my God, I need to set the cameras up. Mark’s gonna kill me.” In an instant she was up, oblivious to the blanket almost sliding off her. She crouched down to the backpacks, hoping to find them. With a sigh of relief, she grabbed one and set it up.

  “Do me a favor, Ana, will you?” Redd’s voice was as icy as the storm outside.

  She froze. “Sure,” she said softly.

  “Don’t ask me questions like that with the video camera on.”

  Redd could see Ana wince and then recover. He felt bad upsetting her, even for a moment. But it was far better to set the parameters now, when the video camera was off, than to come down on her when it was on.

  “I’ve got one camcorder to work,” she chirped. “It’s the same one as before. The other one doesn’t want to light up, so I guess I won’t bother with it anymore. You’d have thought with all this effort and expense Teleworld would have given us better equipment.”

  Redd shook his head in awe. Ana was resilient to his moods. No matter how ominous he tried to sound, she shot a singsong response back at him. Her ability to blow him off was a more powerful weapon than any grenade tossed out. She’d make one heck of a military leader. “Need help?” he eventually asked.

  “Nope. I’ve got it.” She tinkered with the portable tripod and then cursed. “Drat.”

  “Sure you don’t want my help?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Yeesh.” She continued fiddling with it for a few minutes without any success. Then blurted out, “You sonofabit-”

  Redd laughed. “You going all New York on the equipment won’t help. We’re in the Yukon now, so everything here speaks only Alaskan.”

  “What the heck does that mean?”

  Redd picked up the tripod and gave it a stern stare. “You’d better work or I’ll turn you into moose meat.” Like magic, the tripod locked into place. Redd placed the camcorder on top with a flourish.

  He tried not to laugh at her wide-eyed, gaping expression. Let her think he was serious. He’d never reveal that he’d worked with these kinds of tri-pods many times in the military.

  “That was amazing,” she said.

  “Yes, I am.” At this point, his laughter couldn’t be controlled.

  “Well, you don’t have to be so certain about it.” She frowned and turned the camera on. The little red light matched the glow from the tiny stove.

  “Hi, everyone,” Ana said, facing the camera.

  He noticed her pull the oversized blanket even tighter around her tiny frame. She looked like a wooly dwarf. Who knew he could find a fairy-tale creature so attractive?

  “We’re in a cabin now,” Ana continued. “I was able to tape part of our epic journey to get here, although filming while trying not to die wasn’t easy . . .”

  Mark ought to love her, Redd mused. Look how dramatic she is. Perfect for television. If Redd were alone, all he would have done was sit sullenly the whole time, doing the best he could to ignore the red “on” light. He fogged out the rest of her words, not really caring what the audience knew about their journey. If people were all that excited to see action, adventure, and frankly, desperation, they should feel free to buy a book. Moby Dick would be great for that crowd.

  As for him, all that mattered was he got her to this place safely. And that neither of them wanted to give up. Since the flare gun hadn’t been fired, despite his temptation to do so, the big money prize was still a very real possibility. A chance for him, unlike Teleworld, to do some actual good. The network’s sick shows were about as bad as anyone could get. His participating in one, no matter how good his intentions, was unpalatable.

  “. . . and that, ladies and gentlemen, brings us up to date,” Ana said excitedly. “Redd is a true hero. My hero.”

  “That’s enough, Ana. Let’s turn the camera off now so we can get to sleep.”

  “Turn it off? But this camera is supposed to have infrared lights. If we get attacked by a bear in the middle of the night, don’t you think people would want to see it?”

  “Yes,” he answered firmly. “But would you?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If you get mauled by a bear would you want to later see yourself getting viciously attacked? Assuming you survive, of course. And if you don’t, your family can see your terror during your last moments alive.”

  She paused and shut the camera off. “Happy?” she asked sourly.

  “Yes.”

  “You know, recording everything for this crazy show is my only way of keeping my job. You may not think that’s important, but I do.”

  Redd leaned back against the iron leg of the room’s only cot, one complet
ely broken and rusted out. He folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you think working for Teleworld is so important?”

  Scrunching up her face, she answered, “Paying my bills is nice.”

  “You seem competent. Can’t you get a different job? Working for normal people? With ethics?”

  “I had a different job. I was a secretary. And I did work for somebody normal, Stephanie. She’s a good person. And my best friend.”

  Colin’s Stephanie? Redd knew Colin’s wife had worked at Teleworld. But Redd hadn’t spoken to her at for any length to know if Stephanie had even had a secretary, let alone learn the person’s name. Too bad he couldn’t ask Ana. Colin said the fewer Teleworld people who knew about the connection, the better.

  Questioning would have to be covert. He cocked his head to the side. “If she’s your best friend, why don’t you work for her now?”

  “Because she quit her job.”

  I’ll have to push her more. “Let me guess, she worked at Teleworld, too.”

  “How did you guess that?” Ana asked, wide-eyed.

  “Simple. Teleworld is a great place to quit.”

  “How would you know? You don’t work there.”

  “I don’t need to. I figured that out from their putting up an innocent, clueless New York City television producer into a serious survival situation.”

  “Hey! I’m not clueless. I became a producer in the first place to prove I’m not a flutterhead.”

  “Flutterhead? You’re trying to prove to your boss that’s not what you are? If Teleworld thinks so, why did they promote you in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered miserably. “Probably to trap me into doing this stupid, dangerous show.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t need to look so smug.”