by Cate Masters
Melanie tossed Buck a key. “I’ll go with you. Vic, why don’t you drive and let Gina film? Hay, are you all right on your own?”
Buck gestured to Hayden. “Wouldn’t you rather ride with him?”
“Then I wouldn’t be able to hear you.” She clipped a tiny microphone to her jacket. “Besides, you can keep me warm.”
A flush of heat surprised him, erasing all thoughts except one—her pressed against him, arms encircling his waist, hands wandering…
Another five-alarm blaze seared through him. Clearing his throat, he jammed his sheepskin-lined suede cap down on his head. “Great.” Just freaking great. Already breaking his rules about getting too close to clients. “This way. Right, Bjorn?”
The Swede gestured toward the back. “Yes. The three Lynx parked closest to the gate.”
“I’ve read about those,” Melanie practically purred. “They’re quiet so we won’t frighten the wildlife.”
“Exactly.” Bjorn aimed his pleased expression at the camera.
Everyone’s a ham. “And they’re the most expensive rentals.” Buck couldn’t blame the guy for choosing that particular model. Business could be scarce sometimes, and everyone did what they could to survive. On the walk to the yard, he yanked out his gloves, tucked his scarf in his coat and zipped up. He tugged on one glove but no longer held the second. “Shit.”
Melanie appeared at his side. “Something wrong?”
Now he would seem reckless. “I walked out with two gloves.”
She held it up. “You dropped it on the way out.”
“Thanks.” As he reached for it, his fingers brushed her gloved ones. His gaze dropped to her lips as they parted.
A glow like the aurora lit her eyes. “We can’t have you getting frostbite.” Her voice had a dreamy quality.
“Or you.” He heard his soft voice as if someone else spoke. I sound like a damn idiot. He snapped his head up, but her gaze pressed on him like a physical weight. “Everyone familiar with how to operate a snowmobile?”
Too late, the others had already climbed onto their vehicles.
“Guess so.” Aware Melanie had moved away, he turned to their Lynx.
There she sat, and patted the seat ahead of her. “I’m waiting on you, Buck.”
Did he imagine the come hither look? The sexy purr in her voice? It made him pause before he swung a leg over the seat, crowding the front.
The drivers revved the other two vehicles and glided them closer to the gate Bjorn was unlocking.
She tapped Buck’s thigh. “Scoot back. You can’t drive crumpled up.”
Much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He edged backward. So he wouldn’t think about what body parts touched, he revved the engine too hard and the snowmobile jerked forward. When the others glanced back, he waved them on. “Let’s go.”
The sooner they started, the sooner this little tour would end. Once they cleared the gate, he cut around them to the front and steered toward open ground. He braced for her to wrap her arms around him. When she didn’t, he worried she’d fall off. The worry faded as she leaned into turns with him. It didn’t lessen his disappointment.
As the lights of Kiruna grew more distant, the stars amped in brilliance. Faint ribbons of green shimmered above tall evergreens laden heavy with snow.
Melanie gripped his shoulders. “The aurora.” Her high-pitched tone shook with excitement.
Had her research not included the Northern Lights? “Appearing nightly.” Well, not quite.
More subdued, she said, “They’re amazing.”
Buck only nodded. He’d worried he might grow tired of them, that their beauty would someday be lost on him. If anything, the opposite had happened. No matter how often he saw them, they always left him in awe. Each variation was nothing short of spectacular.
Their snowmobile thumped over something hard. It bumped Buck’s rear from the seat. A small yelp, and Melanie was gone.
Shit! “Melanie?” Panic hit him harder than a deep freeze. With a sharp turn, Buck brought the vehicle in a one-eighty and back toward the form in his headlight. Cutting the engine, he hopped off, ran over and crouched beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She brushed away snow from her legs and held out her hand. “Help me up, will you?”
He grasped her hand and drew her up. With surprising strength, she sprung up with a wobble. He clamped an arm around her back to steady her.
The soft light of the aurora reflected across her features. “Thanks.”
He wanted to sink into the deep darkness of her eyes and get lost there. Without thinking, he reached to cup her face but caught himself. Instead, he straightened her hat.
Headlights flashed across them. Sonofabitch. Here came the others with their freaking cameras. He released her but stood ready to catch her. “Can you stand on your own?”
“Yes, I told you I’m fine.” She faced the camera and shrugged. “All my fault. I wasn’t holding on.”
It didn’t let Buck off the hook. He had to be sure she was one hundred percent fine. “Try bending your arms and legs. Everything good? You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
“I might have lost my head. But no, I didn’t hit it. I leaned too far back to look up at the incredible view.” She gestured upward. “Get a shot of the sky, guys. So beautiful. I think the aurora borealis hypnotized me for a minute.”
The soft whir of the engines made the only sound. They stared up at the sky, lost in the play of colors.
Hayden spoke first. “Capture northern lights on film—check. One more thing off the to-do list.” He trudged to his snowmobile.
What a Neanderthal. How could such an incredible spectacle of nature not affect the guy? Even a sarcastic shithead like him?
On the way past, Gina rubbed Melanie’s back. “Sure you’re good to go?”
“Yes.” She sighed, still staring at the view. “I hate to leave.”
Buck did too. “We’ll see it again tomorrow night. And the next. And the next.” The look she shot him cut into his gut, a cross between a kid’s hopeful, you promise?, and something else. Something deeper.
Snap out of it, Buckeroo. “Right now, we should get you back. Go have an ale, warm up by the fire.”
She captured him with her gaze again. “Sounds wonderful.”
He was thinking the very same thing. Too bad she had an entourage.
Gina tilted her head. “Sure you didn’t knock your noggin, sweetie?”
Melanie waved her off. “Positive.”
Good, no more dreamy-voice. Relief swept over him. In its wake, it left shreds of regret that concentrated into an ache. Each beat of his heart drove it deeper. It had been too long since a woman looked at him like that. Moony-eyed, like she wanted to fling him down in the snow and make more than snow angels.
Looks like those spelled trouble.
Buck took the drive back to Kiruna slower. He told himself it was to safeguard her from any more falls, but she’d wound her arms around his waist. Probably for balance, so she could view the aurora. Or to keep warm.
He didn’t mind at all. Until they drove up to the shop’s back gate and with no excuse not to, she climbed off and a chill hit him.
* * * *
A floaty feeling still enveloped Melanie. It had come over her when she first glimpsed the northern lights, a green banner shimmering overhead, an ethereal “go” signal. For a crazy split second, she’d imagined Pete driving the snowmobile, their old dream of viewing the spectacle together a reality. In the next instant, she’d recognized the man sitting ahead of her as Buck. Instead of ruining the moment, the realization had heightened it and taken her higher, away from the rest of the world. Now the same weightlessness lifted her off the snowmobile.
Hardly able to feel her feet on the ground, she stood close to him. Usually didn’t last long before she came crashing down, so she’d make the most of it. “Where’s a good place to get an ale?”<
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He grimaced down the street. “Your hotel has a bar in the restaurant. It’s rated four stars. Then you’ll be right there when it’s time to eat.” He’d turned professional. Cooler. Nothing like the Buck who had held her after she fell off the seat behind him, who’d stared into her eyes with the same wonder as when he’d gazed at the aurora.
She wanted that guy back. “Do you always do everything for convenience’s sake?”
He blinked his brown eyes once. “What do you mean?”
She wanted the hot chocolate version, not cold chocolate milk. “Don’t you ever cut loose? Do something because you feel like it?”
“Every day.” He smirked at Gina, Vic, and Hayden in turn as if he’d told an inside joke.
No way did she buy his act. “Name the last time.”
“I…” His breath seemed to catch in his throat. “Never mind. Do you want me to walk you back or can you find the inn on your own?”
Her face fell. She could actually feel it droop and couldn’t stop it. “Aren’t you coming to dinner too?”
“No, I’ll see you in the morning.” Great doctor voice, firm and pleasant but hinted he hid more behind his standoffish manner.
She wouldn’t mind getting a first-hand look at his bedside manner either.
She shifted her feet and ended up even closer to him. “Why not?”
“I have to go home. Feed my dogs. Get ready for tomorrow’s trip.” A slightly exasperated doctor.
“You can’t go yet. It’s early.” Geez, she sounded like a whiny kid.
“My dogs are hungry.” He spoke as if to a child, with a tone that implied try arguing with that.
She couldn’t. Bolstering herself, she stared him down. “Can’t wait to meet them.” Then he’d have no excuse to bolt.
His brow flinched. Lips pressed tight. “The sleigh will pick you up around nine-thirty tomorrow morning and bring you to my place. See you at ten.”
Another argument sprang to her throat but she swallowed it. Of course he couldn’t drive five dogsleds at once, so it made sense he’d send the sleigh for them. “Have a good night.”
“See you in the morning.” After a curt bow, he strode off. No hat, coat open, not even hunched against the freezing temp.
She stopped herself from calling after him. Instead, she voiced her fears to Gina. “He shouldn’t walk in this cold, should he?” All alone like that?
The camerawoman blew on her gloved hands. “He lives here. He knows where he’s going.”
“I hope he does,” Vic said good-naturedly, “if he’s our guide.”
“What about bears?” No, they’d be hibernating. “Or other predators?” Did he carry some weapon to defend himself?
Hayden stopped filming. “What the hell’s up with you?”
She blinked away her concern to hide it. “Nothing.” Except the good feelings that had enveloped her earlier had left with Buck.
He shuffled nearer. “Seriously? Because I thought maybe some teenager had possessed you or something.”
No point hiding that he’d wounded her. She scowled. “Don’t be a dork.”
All innocence, Hayden blanked. “Right. I’m a dork, not you.”
“I am merely being considerate. We need him for the tour.” Which, instead of dreading without Pete as she had before, she now anticipated with more pleasure. “To guide us.”
With a smiled “Mm-hm,” Gina walked away. An apologetic shrug, and Vic followed.
Oh, too much explanation. A dead giveaway. Of course they knew why they needed him. To escape Hayden’s glare, she scrambled to catch up to Gina. Yeah, they knew her too well. “I hope this place has good food. I’m starving.”
Vic snorted. “We know who for.”
Whoa. She could take good-natured teasing, but the comment hit too close to the truth, somewhere off base of the norm. She halted and checked the cameras. All of them were off. Good time to lay a few ground rules. “Let’s stay on topic, shall we?”
Pretending interest in the store window displays, Gina kept strolling. “We follow your cues, as always.”
Very funny. “Excellent. Keep up the good work, and no more cheap shots, all right?” To her relief, they walked in silence to the hotel. The hostess must have thought them a ragtag bunch when they stopped by the reservation desk, every one of them sullen and droopy.
After a pleasant greeting, the hostess asked, “Are you here for dinner? Or drinks?”
Melanie put on a professional air. “Our reservation’s for seven o’clock. We would love to have drinks first.” Hopefully she didn’t give away how much she needed one. The homey feel of Kiruna had faded. Despite being surrounded by her crew, she felt oddly separate.
“Certainly.” The woman handed her a beeper and pointed to an open doorway opposite the dining room’s. “The bar’s through there.”
“Perfect.” One drink. The max Melanie allowed herself and tonight she couldn’t wait for it. She led her crew through the entrance to an empty table near the bar. From the beverage menu, one leapt out at her.
Almost immediately, a lovely blonde stopped by. “What can I get you?”
After the others had ordered, Melanie said, “Chocolate martini, please.” Not a replacement for Buck’s brand of hot chocolate, but warm enough.
Hayden frowned. “Not your usual glass of wine?”
She faked a perky attitude. “You know I like to mix things up.”
Slouching, he drummed his fingers. “You keep reminding me.”
Let it go, Hay. When he dragged out his camera, she shook her head. “Not tonight, okay?”
He winced. “Um, it’s kind of my job. Yours, too.”
She ignored the snark. “We’re allowed some downtime. It’s one meal. No one will care.”
He slowly set down the video cam. “Fine. Your call.”
Scanning the menu, she released a happy sigh. She’d made it. After traveling everywhere on the map for three years with hardly a break, she’d finally come to Sweden. Everything about this place felt right. Except that Pete’s not here.
She shoved the thought aside, but as dinner went on, she couldn’t shake the odd sense of being outside of herself, watching from a distance. Though she laughed and joked with her crew, she wasn’t quite part of the group tonight. Much as she loved them all, they couldn’t fill the void that ached for Pete.
And her family. Strange how much she missed them, with an immediate and intense need to hear their voices.
After they’d finished eating, Gina touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
She forced a grin. “Just a little tired. And I want to find a phone. Call my parents.”
“Really? I thought you tried to avoid them.”
“Normally, yeah. But it hit me tonight that I haven’t spoken to them in too long. And my cell’s signal’s weak.”
“There’s a phone in our room.”
“Right.” She almost never noticed those things because she never expected anyone to call. The thought slammed into her like an ice ball.
Vic yawned. “Feels like midnight. This trip’s kicking my butt.”
The perfect chance to break away. “Me, too. I’m going up to the room. Night, guys.”
Vic wished her a good night. Hayden merely gave a nod.
Gina blew her a kiss. “I’ll be up in a little while, sweetie.”
With a wave, Melanie headed to the lobby. The same sense of seclusion followed her as she headed up the stairs. Any other night, she’d have taken in the view from the tall windows. Tonight, she missed Pete too much. They’d have celebrated their third anniversary this coming Valentine’s Day. So corny, they’d laughed about choosing that particular day to wed, but had continued to make plans.
Entering her room, she saw the phone. Sitting in plain sight on the desk. A quick scan of the dialing instructions, and she punched in the international code and her parents’ home number. Excitement built as it rang. What would
she tell them? She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d called. Another three rings, and the machine picked up.
I can’t talk into the machine. She hung up.
The hollowness of Pete’s abandonment struck her again. Where are you? Don’t you know where I am? A tear streaked down. God, she couldn’t fall apart, but knew before coming here, this place posed a danger to her emotional state. After three years, she’d learned to hide her loneliness. By focusing intensely on her work, she’d managed her grief even when her world threatened to spin out of control.
Now, it all came flooding back like a tsunami. She sank to the bed. “Pete.” Goddammit, it wasn’t fair. Of all the people in the world, why did he have to die? Someone so good, kind and funny, smart and caring. “You weren’t supposed to leave me.” Full on blubbering overtook her. Hugging herself, she curled up and gave in to it. With the tears came memories, so vivid it almost seemed Pete were with her. But not like when the hair on her arms would raise in recognition of his presence before her mind had a chance to register he’d returned in spirit.
Since Pete’s death, the only reason she could drag herself out of bed each morning was the possibility of sensing his presence. At times, distinctly hearing his voice in her head. Yes, some would call her crazy—the very reason she never shared this information with anyone. For the past seven months, he’d abandoned her. Another fact she couldn’t share, no matter how much it killed her.
That’s how she knew this No Boundaries gig to Sweden was no accident. It was a gift from Pete, one that rekindled her hope. He would come to her again. He had to.
Tonight held only cold, distant memories. A swirl of moments enveloped her—Pete laughing, she and Pete walking in the rain, his tender kiss under the umbrella. She tried to hold her mind there, but then he lay in the ambulance after the accident. She still cursed herself for not going with him that night in the car, but he was supposed to return in a few minutes. A quick trip to the store, that’s all it was supposed to be. As soon as she’d heard the sirens outside growing louder, getting closer, she’d known. Their wailing had reached deep inside and rattled her bones. Had lifted her up and out of the apartment. Had drawn her, running, to the corner only a few blocks away where flashing red lights spotlighted the car—or its crumpled remains—in the intersection. Emergency workers had lifted a gurney into an ambulance, and she’d screamed for them to wait, running faster to climb inside before they closed the doors. The worst sound in the world. The worst ride of her life, flying through the night, those sirens piercing her soul. Like she and Pete were traveling at different speeds. No matter how hard she’d held onto him, she had sensed him slipping away. The image of him haunted her—pale, his grip weak as he held her hand, fear plain in his eyes.