“My mother’s homemade cranberry muffins, oatmeal with fresh berries, and coffee that will grow hair on your chest.”
The door opened. “Give me the coffee.” She reached out a hand for one of the large cups he held and took a long sip. She closed her eyes on a sigh, her head tilted slightly back, and he was dumbstruck by the sensuality of the simple action. His heart thumped hard in his chest like it was waking up for the first time.
“Come in, if you want.” She turned and walked into the darkness of her apartment as though she didn’t give a damn if he followed or not.
Obviously not a morning person, or she’d come in contact with too many Ugly Moose at the lodge last night. He’d already been dressed down by his mother and Uncle Pike for standing up the cute little nurse. Most likely he’d be hearing it from the townsfolk next.
Eva was dressed in a knit top and form-fitting jeans with bare feet, her toes painted a glittery purple and her blond hair spiked.
The place was dark, all the curtains closed, like a cave. Eva dropped into a seat at the little dining table and motioned for him to bring the sack of food over.
He put the food in front of her much the way he’d approach a wild animal.
Cautiously.
Everything about this woman made him alert, all his senses on high octane.
She opened the bag and took out one of the muffins. Biting into it, she moaned over a mouthful. “Your mother can sure cook.” She looked up at him and frowned. “Take a seat or I’m going to get a pain in my neck looking up at you. Lord knows you go on forever. How tall are you anyway?”
“Six-three.” He sat feeling as though he’d been granted an audience with the queen. She was sure demanding for such a little thing. Would she be demanding in bed? The thought sent a pump of blood to his nether regions. “Listen, Eva, I’m sorry—”
She cut him off with a dismissive motion of her hand. “Just tell me why you didn’t show up. And for the record, I’ve never been stood up before.” Her bloodshot eyes met his. “Never.”
He took a moment to study her. She seemed slightly hung over. Either because she’d had her feelings hurt and tried to silence them with alcohol, or embarrassment had gotten the best of her since he’d left her sitting in a restaurant where everyone in attendance knew they’d had a date. He hoped it was hurt feelings. That meant their kiss had meant something to her too. He’d never been knocked back like that before from a mere meeting of lips. Never had a woman occupied his every waking thought and dreams like she did.
He launched into his story of destructive bear cubs and the long trek back to town not leaving out one little detail.
She abandoned her muffin halfway through his explanation, and cradled the coffee cup in her hands. When he finished, she took a long draw of the coffee before setting the cup on the table.
“That’s quite the story. Do you seriously expect me to buy that?”
He paused. He never thought she wouldn’t believe him. But then she was from Outside where things like this weren’t the norm. “Yeah, I expect you to buy it. Remember you were chased by a moose yesterday.”
“You do have me there. So, what is it that you actually do?”
“I’m an officer for the Yukon Flats National Wildlife Refuge.”
“Like what? An animal cop?”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.” He tried not to take her comment as an insult. She was uneducated in Alaska. And he planned to educate her. In many things. “I police the Refuge. I’m in charge of conserving fish and wildlife, international treaty obligations, subsistence uses, which is a big part of my job with so many people who depend on fish and wildlife in order to survive. Safety of people using the Refuge, and assisting with Search and Rescue when needed, which is called on more than I’d like.” He’d come close to being another statistic himself. “I monitor commercial activities on the Refuge, and Alaska is rich in oil, gas, and gold this far north. Way more politics than I signed up for,” he muttered under his breath.
“How big is the Refuge?”
“Yukon Flats is about eight and a half million acres, spanning an area roughly two hundred and twenty miles east to west and one hundred and twenty miles north to south.”
“How many officers do you work with?”
“It’s just me.” He continued when her mouth fell open, “I have other law enforcements agencies that I can call on if needed. But, basically, it’s just me.”
“How do you patrol something that...big?”
He shrugged getting uncomfortable talking so much about himself. Wasn’t that a red flag where women were concerned? But then if she was asking questions, she was at least talking to him and not slamming a door in his face. “By any means necessary. Horse, four-wheeler—which I’m going to need a spare until I get my other one back and repaired—plane, snow machine, dog team, you name it. Whatever it takes to get the job done.”
“Huh.” She picked up her coffee cup and studied him like bacteria in a Petri dish.
Uh-oh. He had talked too much. She didn’t have that glazed over look that some women got, but she was from a big city. This had to be boring her to death. “How about I show you a part of the Refuge? It’s supposed to be nice today.” Which could change faster than a woman changed her mind. “I could take you on a tour, so you can get a feel of the place you are now calling home.” When she didn’t look like she was going to agree he added, “Show you the lay of the land so that you don’t get turned around so easily, and find yourself lost in your own backyard again.” That did it. He saw the shift in her eyes as she accepted his challenge. So she was the type who couldn’t turn down a dare. That was handy information to have.
“How long will we be gone?”
“A few hours. I’ll pack a picnic lunch. After all, I do owe you dinner.”
“That you do.” She smiled.
The movement focused his gaze on the lips he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Okay, you’re on,” she said.
Now who was laying down a challenge?
CHAPTER FIVE
“I thought you said ‘land’?” Eva asked, staring at the canoe beached on the bank of the Chatanika River.
“Best way to get a feel for the place is by boat.”
“This isn’t a boat.” A boat had a motor not a paddle, and seats not planks.
He laughed. The sound and the way he tipped his head back charmed her in a way that she couldn’t explain or begin to understand. He was so different from any other man she’d been attracted to. But then the others had never measured up when it counted. He was big enough and tall enough that he could probably measure up to anything.
She glanced back at the paint-scraped, dented, weary-worn canoe. Yeah, she’d give this a chance. Just like she realized, she’d give him a chance.
“Okay, what do I do?” she asked.
“First—” he held up a yellow lifejacket “—you have to put this on.” He held the vest out for her like a gentleman holding a coat for her to slip into. Once she had the lifejacket on, she faced him, looking down at the zipper and clips, not knowing what to snap, zip, or buckle first. Turn out that wasn’t something she needed to worry about as he went about securing the lifejacket tightly to her torso. His hands were all business until he finished with the belt around her waist, then they fell to her hips and just stayed there warming her from the inside out. His eyes met hers, and heat simmered between them. Just like that her internal temperature rose, and she wanted the jacket off. Wanted to strip all her clothes off and his too.
His nostrils flared, and he leaned closer, stopping just before his lips would have taken possession of hers. “If I kiss you, we won’t be canoeing.”
A large part of her was perfectly fine with that. Another, the more sensible part—damn it—insisted she step back. “So...” She bent down and picked up a paddle. “Show me how to work a canoe.”
He cocked his lips in a smile that had her wishing she’d taken him up on that kiss in
stead of the canoeing. But if she was going to live here in the wilds of Alaska she needed to know a few things. From what she could tell, people did a lot of outdoor activities.
Like canoeing.
“Second rule of thumb. Do not stand up in the canoe. When you feel comfortable enough with everything else, I’ll show you how that can be safely accomplished. Just know that if you stand up, you will most likely dump us both in the water. Third, we don’t want to be dumped into the water. Average temperature of the river is roughly ten degrees above freezing this time of year. By the end of summer it might be fifteen degrees above freezing.”
“I have no plans to get wet.”
“I’ve heard it before. Let’s just plan it now and hope for the best.”
“I’m not an idiot. I know what hypothermia is, and I have no plans to experience it first hand.”
“Good. Fourth—”
“How many rules are you going to name? This is going to take all day.”
“You want to learn as we go?”
“At least we’ll be going somewhere,” she muttered.
He pursed his lips.
Guess she’d pissed him off. She was good at doing that. Impatience was one of her strong suits.
“Here.” He handed her a can of bug spray.
“There’s DEET in this thing. Have you heard the statistics of what it can do to you?”
“Less harm than the mosquitoes you will encounter today.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“One of the ways they used to punish a criminal back in the gold rush days was to tie the perp naked in a canoe and launch him on the Yukon. The man would jump into the freezing, silt-filled water with his hands tied behind his back, knowing full well he’d drown, to escape the mosquitoes.”
She arched a brow in disbelief. “That’s some tall tale.”
He stared at her for a long silent minute, and then stepped back and sprayed himself down, adding a healthy coating to his hands and wiping the stuff onto his face and neck, making sure he covered his ears too. She started to rethink her need for bug spray. He did live here. He wouldn’t be messing with her, would he?
“Fine, give me that.” She exchanged the paddle for the can and gave herself a light dusting.
He smirked and packed the can in the backpack he carried. “Let me know when you need some more.”
“What? Are there vamp mosquitoes out there?” Geez. She wasn’t that naive.
He ignored her and positioned the canoe to launch. “Go ahead and get in. Face the front, and I’ll give us a push.”
She climbed in, her arms flaying wide when the canoe rocked under her feet and quickly took a seat. She gulped. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Here’s your paddle.” Lynx handed it back to her. She took it not knowing what he expected her to do with it. Maybe she should have let him finish his never-ending list of rules.
But how hard could it be? People canoed all the time.
Lynx stepped in behind her. She dropped the paddle as the canoe rocked back and forth with his movements. Luckily it landed between her legs and not into the river.
There was a sound of them sliding on sand. She glanced back to see him using the paddle to push them out into the rushing current. The canoe easily flowed with the water and picked up speed. Her hands tightened on the edges.
“Grab your paddle,” Lynx said from behind. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who expects the man to do all the work.”
She arrowed him a look, and he laughed when she picked up her paddle and dipped it into the water.
“The water’s fairly calm here, so get the feel of how stroking the paddle directs the canoe. Stay on the right,” he instructed when she picked up the paddle to stroke left. “Think of this like sex.” His voice purred, raising goose flesh on her arms. “Sex is best when we find a rhythm and stroke deep.”
She swallowed hard, visually seeing him above her, her hips finding his rhythm as he stroked deep within her. He had to purposely be doing that. He didn’t teach everyone to canoe using words like that. Just how many other women had he canoed with? He’d said that awfully smooth.
“We need to work together or we’ll just spin in circles. I’ll stroke from the back left, you front right. Find the rhythm.”
She began to feel the difference when she wasn’t fighting him and matched him stroke for stroke.
“There you go.”
She felt a thrill at his words, and the hair rose on the back of her neck. He had such a seductive voice, and with him behind her giving her instruction, it left her feeling vulnerable, needy. Normally not something she liked. She liked being in charge. Hell, taking charge. But it was actually nice knowing he was back there, directing them. Steering them on the correct course.
She began taking in her surroundings. The water lapped by the base of the canoe, the cutting of the paddles causing eddies to swirl in the clear water. She thought she saw a fish swim by and wondered what kind it was. Birch leaves tinkled like jewelry as they brushed each other in the slight breeze. A huge bird soared not making a sound as it glided above them.
“Is that—?”
“A bald eagle. You’ll see lots of wildlife on this trip. The Chatanika River is prime habitat for birds and animals.”
He set an easy pace, one that gave her the chance to see what was flowing by them. The air was crisp. The sun warm on her skin, and there didn’t seem to be another soul around but them. The beauty of the place stole her breath.
“Stunning,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he agreed as though he was in church. But then this was spiritual in a way. God’s church. “Look left.”
She followed where he pointed and saw a beaver rush up the bank, slapping its flat tail as though to scare them off. She laughed, realizing as the sound escaped her that it had been a long time since she’d felt this free.
The water slowed more.
“Rest your arms,” Lynx recommended.
She turned to see him with the paddle straddled across the canoe.
“When we flow around that bend ahead the water is going to speed up. Not a lot of rapids in this river but there are a few. Just don’t panic, and we’ll be fine. One other thing. The Chatanika is famous for its sweepers.”
“Sweepers?”
“Low hanging trees where they have been uprooted because of the flow of the ever-changing river. Break up around here can be quite turbulent. So watch your head. See.” He indicated such a tree hanging across the river. They ducked and smoothly floated under it.
The next one came up faster. She tried to steer them around it.
“No. Let me steer. You keep paddling left. Eva, left.”
The water had picked up fast. One minute calm, almost lake-like, and the next rushing like a faucet. A tree was suddenly there. She paddled hard right getting confused and overwhelmed all at once. They hit the roots of the tree. It banged the canoe hard enough to cause it to bounce upriver a few feet, swinging them into the rapids Lynx had been trying to avoid. The canoe rocked and bounced as they sped up, and she panicked.
“Stay put. Eva, don’t move like that. Duck!”
A sweeper swept her right out of the canoe.
CHAPTER SIX
Lynx grabbed the branches overhead and tied a rope to secure the canoe so it didn’t float downriver.
Eva gasped and splashed as she fought to swim against the current. “Help! I’m drowning!”
“Eva, stand up.” He tried to fight back the laugh bubbling to the surface and lost. The woman was so out of her element, she was adorable. Her spiky hair lay plastered against her skull, her violet eyes went from filled with fear to fury as she stood up and the water came to her upper thighs.
She planted hands on her hips and narrowed those livid eyes at him, and he laughed harder. His sides hurt with it. If the woman could zap him with a spell, he’d be a horny toad right now. Actually he was already horny, had been since he’d picked her up. Scr
atch that. Since he’d carried her back to his place when she’d been moosed-up.
There was something about her that fired to life every one of his need-to-mate receptors.
“Help me out of h-here you...you b-big moose.” Eva shivered, her hand shaking as she slicked back her wet hair.
Ooh, now she looked sexy and mysterious like some exotic European model.
He remained seated and braced his legs on each side of the canoe so that helping her back in didn’t tip him into the river. He reached for her and pulled her in. Even soaking wet, the woman weighed nothing. He helped her to sit in the bottom of the canoe, facing him. She cradled her knees to her chest and shook. That sobered him up. She was cold and probably miserable. He’d save his laughter until later when he was alone and maybe retelling this story to Fox. Right now, he needed to get her warmed up. The thought shouldn’t please him so much. He took another look at her and decided warming her up might not be as pleasurable as he’d hoped. Not with the blame shooting his way.
He untied the canoe and picked up the paddle, easily navigating them away from the nest of sweepers and the rapids until he reached a pool of water where he could bank the canoe. He jumped out and secured the craft to a tree, reaching back to help guide Eva to shore. She was shaking so badly that he gave up and swung her up into his arms.
She slapped his shoulder. “P-put me d-down.”
“Make me,” he fired back and tried not to laugh again. He got another slap for his comment. He carried her to a clearing blooming with wildflowers and set her on her feet then proceeded to unstrap her from the wet lifejacket. He tossed that to the ground and went for the buttons on her shirt.
“W-what are you d-doing?” She knocked his fingers away.
“We need to get you warmed up.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s a nice day. I don’t think I’m going to f-freeze to death. In fact, the m-madder I get, the less cold I feel.”
She should be smoking hot then.
He bit back the reply and instead asked, “Did you pack what I told you to bring?”
Wild Men of Alaska Collection Page 8