by Seton, Cora
The snow was four feet deep around the cabin and still falling. The wind howled almost as badly as it had through the night. He was grateful for the bitter weather. It would keep Crow’s men grounded for a while and give him a chance to figure out how to get both himself and Holly Colton out of there. And if he had time to get to know Holly Colton better along the way? He wouldn’t complain.
Ty pulled a small pair of binoculars out of his leg pocket and scanned the area for hostiles. Nothing moved except trees, heavily loaded with ice cycles. He dragged the sled behind the cabin and covered it with fallen tree branches to keep it out of sight from prying eyes. If Crow was able to get a bird up in the sky, or a good satellite feed, he wouldn’t see a sled parked outside the door and want to see who was inside the cabin. Hiding the sled might buy more time. He was all over the idea of spending time with Holly.
The lady was…sexy as hell. It had been a long time since a woman had revved his engines so quickly. He already knew she was kind and gentle by the way she took care of her dogs. He could tell a lot about a person by the way she treated animals. She was a beautiful, petite musher who drove her dogs and sled through all sorts of weather against all kinds of odds by herself. She’d stood up to a moose. Who did that? He grinned. Probably the same sort of person with the ambition to become a Navy SEAL. They were both driven and most likely crazy.
He could live with that.
She was not comfortable around him, yet. Which struck him as different. He usually put people at ease. Lieutenant Commander Mack Riley called him the People Whisperer. Anytime Mack lost patience with a witness or hostile, he’d call Ty in to talk to the guy. He always got the answers Mack needed. But Holly’s situation was different all the way around. Trust might be a hard thing for her to give to a man she just met. Even if that wasn’t the case, it was perfectly normal to be surprised waking up like she had.
Dammit, why had he fallen asleep? It was warm and felt so right beside her, and he had been damned tired, but that was no excuse. He normally was a very light sleeper and should have been able to keep himself awake. He was trained to stay awake for days. Why did he let his guard down? If he’d stuck to his plan, she wouldn’t be eyeing him now like he’d stripped her naked and fantasized about having his way with her. Like he did.
The good news? She didn’t throw him out of the cabin, even when she knew he didn’t belong there. She had joked about kissing him and then sent all kinds of signals that she’d actually thought about it. He wished she had, hell, how he wished it.
There was something about Holly Colton. She was gorgeous. Even her slightly crooked nose was perfect in his book, although, she probably hated it. She sat with a straight back, looked him in the eyes, and lifted her chin when she spoke as if she’d been born into money, or had gone to one of those finishing schools his granny had forced his sisters into. Granny had teased that even a wild Apache girl could become a lady at one of those schools. He had a feeling Holly was not a wild child. She seemed refined, highly educated, and so far out of his league they might as well be playing different games. Not many people called him Mr. Whitehorse. It sounded strange and sophisticated when it came from those pretty lips.
Stop thinking about those lips and all the things you’d like her to do with them. No, do not picture her sleek stomach, or muscular legs beneath you, either!
Since the way her breasts filled her bra was off limits, he let himself reflect on her expressive face. Living in a world of subterfuge and espionage, it was refreshing to meet someone who was so wide open with her emotions. A poker player, she was not. Her thoughts came through like flashing neon signs. And her eyes! They’d stunned him. They were full of depth, intelligence, and curiosity. But there was something else deep down in those blues that reached inside his chest and twisted. She’d been afraid of him when he tried to see her scalp wound. Why?
Oh, I don’t know, Whitehorse, maybe because she’d been abused and you pointed your friggin’ Sig at her head. He wanted to punch himself. What a stupid, stupid mistake. He was a SEAL who woke up ready to shoot. Instincts to act and protect were embedded in his muscle fibers, but Holly wouldn’t have known that. He must have scared the shit out of her. He’d have to be more careful waking up with her next time.
If there was a next time. Holy sweetness, let there be a next time.
He’d give her credit for recovering quickly when he put the gun away, like it was no big deal she woke up next to a half-naked gun-pointing maniac. She seemed to sense he didn’t mean her any harm. She wasn’t really scared of him until he stepped closer to check the lump on her head. And then she went into some sort of psychological meltdown. The terror on her face resembled Preston’s when he was trapped and dying in the helo. Why? If the gun wasn’t the issue, what was, exactly?
Even when he backed away, he saw the same damned flashes of fear he’d seen on the battlefield. He never wanted to see that haunted look on another human being, let alone a beautiful woman. She responded like someone who suffered from PTSD. Shit, what had happened to her? The dog knew. Lucy sensed when her master was getting ready to lose it. They had a deep connection. People and animals could develop bonds. How many times had he seen military K-9s save men in the field mere seconds before landmines exploded? God, he loved dogs.
What battles had Holly survived? What landmines were still out there waiting to hurt her?
Her scars and pain ran deep. Who’d caused it? It killed him to know she’d been hurt and he was determined to find out who did it. If he could, he’d help make things right for Holly Colton. For now, he owed her breakfast. And—if she’d let him touch her pretty toes—a foot massage.
He grinned, longing to touch her soft skin again, and knocked on the door. “Can we come in?”
“Yes.”
Dammit. She was fully clothed in everything she’d worn last night minus the parka. The soft blue sweater matched her eyes and the charcoal gray ski pants fit her ass nicely, but he preferred her lacy pink panties and bra. He wouldn’t tell her that. Nope, keeping that secret to himself.
“I promised breakfast. You must be starved.”
“I am. What can I do to help?” She stood in the kitchen. Good to see her up, still, there was way too much tension in her shoulders. How he longed to put his hands there, too. If only he could massage her troubles away.
“Just relax for now. I’ll see what I can whip up.” He put Lucy on a chair and wrapped the towel over her to keep her warm. “You too, girl. I’m sure you’ll enjoy some of my MREs. Most of them look like dog food and might taste worse than you are used to, but they’re filling.”
“Ugh.” Holly grimaced. “Uncle Bob might have some real food around here. He comes and goes frequently. I bet if we looked…” She opened up one cabinet after another. “Ah-ha! See?” She pulled out a couple of cans. He couldn’t see the picture printed on the label.
“What is it?” He stepped closer, careful not to scare her away.
She turned on her heal and nearly collided with his chest. “It’s breakfast, Mr. Whitehorse. Alaskan style.”
“Yeah? Am I going to like it?”
She was so close. Inches separated them. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts. “I hope so. Can you reach that box up there?” She turned to point to a box on the top shelf, but when she did her sweet ass grazed his quickly rising zipper.
He leaned over her and reached. “Are you sure? This box says rat poison.”
“What? No!” She grabbed his arm and pulled until he suddenly had his arm around her. She didn’t jump like a frightened jack rabbit, and he didn’t move. In fact, she might have inched closer. “I don’t want rat poison anywhere near my dogs. It could kill them.”
Sure, the dogs again. Never mind him or her.
“Just pulling your chain.” His voice was huskier than it was a minute ago. “It was biscuit mix.”
She flashed him a smile that took his breath away. And then, to his surprise, she pressed her hand to his chest. “Very fu
nny, Mr. Whitehorse. I almost had a heart attack.”
Could she feel his heart? It was about to dance out of his chest. If she did feel the rapid beat through his shirt, she didn’t seem to mind. Her hand hadn’t moved. He could live with that.
“But, um, biscuit mix, yes, I can make…pancakes! If only we had syrup or maybe jelly? Hmm, is Uncle Bob a canner? I don’t know. We could look in his cellar. There might be something tasty out there. Wait, yes. I remember.” The sparkle in her sexy eyes dazzled him. “One time I ran into him at Merl’s Bar and Groceries. I’d just picked up a jar of jelly and Uncle Bob came down the aisle and said he made better. He does can berries! Maybe we’ll be in luck and find something out there. Do you mind, Mr. Whitehorse?”
Her mouth ran so quickly he lost the thread of the conversation.
Did he mind what? That she’d planted her hand on his heart and left it there? Did he get to keep it? Her beautiful eyes silently pleaded with him to do something. He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t dare.
“Do you?” her voice cracked.
“Do I what?” Even he heard the rumble in his voice. Holly had a way of seriously starting his engines.
“Mind. Is it okay?”
To touch him like this? Hell, it was far more than okay. It took all of his strength not to place a kiss on that adorable crooked nose. Carefully, slowly, he put his hand on top of hers, trapping it in place.
“I mean, you were just out there in the cold. If you’d rather…” She looked at his tanned hand over hers. “I could…I could go check the cellar myself.” He ran his fingers over her knuckles and gently pressed her palm into his chest. “Or…or not. I mean, I don’t know what I mean. When you look at me like that…good gravy.” She let out a slow breath.
“Holly?”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“You can call me Ty.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. Then he reached over her again and handed her the biscuit mix. “I’m going to check out Uncle Bob’s cellar.”
At this point, he didn’t want Holly to venture outside and discover he’d hidden her sled from bad guys. No need to scare the woman. Tucking his Sig inside the back of his waistband, he left the cabin before he did something sexy to scare off his rabbit.
The air was getting colder as the day wore on. Snow was still falling and the sky was black. Flakes clung to his eyelashes. He pulled his hood over his head and trudged through the snow to the rear of the cabin. Uncle Bob had a walk-in cellar and a smokehouse back there.
Ty scouted the area. No tracks, no movement. With his binoculars, he scanned trees and hills. High points, low valleys, snow-covered rocks, shrubs—all clear. Pointing his weapon at the smokehouse, he went into close-quarter-combat-mode and cautiously opened the door. Smoked salmon and boar hung on hooks, no hostiles. He trekked over to the cellar. It was small, but a determined hostile could squeeze inside it. With his Sig at the ready, he inched the door open. Nothing.
He grinned. Nothing except row after row of canned jams. Thank you, Uncle Bob. I’ll repay you somehow, man.
He and Holly were going to have a feast. Arms loaded, he slogged his way to the front.
The smell of brewing coffee and sizzling pancakes greeted him. “Holy mother, it smells wonderful in here.”
“That’s just me.” Holly joked as she flipped pancakes on the griddle.
He plopped his treats on the table and quickly strode into the kitchen. “I’ll be the judge of that.” Leaning over her shoulder, he gazed at the silver dollar pancakes. He was almost touching her, but she didn’t stiffen in panic. He put his cold nose on the side of her neck that didn’t have moose scratches and took a giant inhale. “You’re right. I’ll give you that one. You do smell better than the food.”
She giggled but didn’t squirm away. “Your nose is freezing.”
“It’s cold out there.” He didn’t step back. He tested his boundaries and waited for her reaction.
“Poor baby.” Before he knew what was happening, she pulled his arms around her waist and leaned against him. “Is that better?”
“Hell, yes.” Did he say that out loud?
She chuckled softly. “I owed you a warm up.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” But it was working. He was heating up fast.
She rubbed his arms in slow circles, just as he had done while she was unconscious. “You saved my life, Ty. You saved Lucy’s life. I’m not sure I properly thanked you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, either.”
“But I am grateful you are here.” She swiveled in his arms until she was facing him, their hips pressed together. “So grateful.”
He ran his thumb across her cheek. “Me too, Holly.”
She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes as if savoring his light touch. “Mr. Whitehorse, would it be wrong if I asked you to kiss me?”
Wrong? Only if he didn’t oblige.
Need flared through him. He cupped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers as softly as he could manage with a brain screaming at him to kiss her everywhere. She sighed in her throat, and threaded her fingers through his long hair.
That did it. He couldn’t do soft anymore. He wanted Holly Colton. He licked at the seam of her lips, and she opened for him. She sucked his tongue, causing electric bolts to shoot straight to his cock.
Without taking his lips from hers, he lifted her feet off the floor and carried her away from the stove. Sitting her ass on the counter, he continued his rampage of her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on. He could have kissed her all day except…
Smoke!
Chapter Eight
‡
Holly pulled her lips from his. “Oh, no. The pancakes!” She moved forward to jump down from the countertop and rescue the burning cakes.
Ty stopped her with a gentle squeeze of her arm. “Stay. I’ve got this.”
Normally, she didn’t like to be told what to do, but Ty was different. He was gentle with her. He didn’t trigger her flight responses because he didn’t touch her without warning. How did he know what scared her and set her on edge? Besides being attentive to her needs and making her feel safe, he was yummy. That kiss was…wowza, she didn’t have any words for how wonderful it was. Did he always kiss like that? She was surprised she did. This was all new to her.
He grabbed the griddle off the stove with a towel. Grimacing, he turned the charred mess so she could see. “Sorry, Holly, but these pancakes are toast.” He scraped them off the griddle and threw them in the trash.
She shrugged. “I think I made enough already.”
“And I brought reinforcements.” He pointed to a strip of dried salmon and several jars of jams.
“Wonderful! You must be hungry, too.”
His deep blue eyes took a lazy stroll from her feet up to her lips. She could almost feel the trail of heat he left on her. “Starving.”
She was too. She’d never been kissed like that in her life and wanted to try it again.
Conan put his nose down into the trash, rooting around for the burned cake. Guilt twisted in her heart. She hadn’t fed the dogs yet, and they should have eaten by now. “Sorry, boy. I’ll feed you.”
Ty lifted her off the counter. “People first, then dogs.”
She grimaced when her feet touched the ground. Her toes felt burned and blistered.
Ty saw her discomfort and scooped her back up again and carried her to the table. Gently, he placed her in the chair. “Frostbite. Not too bad, but your feet are going to be sore for a few days. While we’re here, let me take care of things. Okay? The dogs, the food…” He brushed her hair off her cheek. “…the warmth.”
How could she argue with that? “Okay.”
Goodness, when he smiled, he stole the air right out of her lungs.
“I’ll get our breakfast,” he said as he strode back into the kitchen.
And I’ll learn how to breathe.
*
Ty was having a hard time remembering how to
chew. The pancakes were tasty topped with homemade jam, but man, oh, man not as sweet as Holly’s lips. Did she always kiss like that? The heat in her blue eyes was unmistakable. She wanted him. But what did that mean? Hot passionate kisses or more?
His body coursed with a desire he needed to get under control STAT. He cared for Holly, more than he thought possible. They had an undeniable connection—hell, he’d never felt so close to a woman that quickly—but should he act on his desires? She had a scary, brutal past. Her body had healed but her mind wasn’t there yet. What if he made things worse? He didn’t want to hurt her.
Crossing her legs under the table, Holly shifted toward him. His damned gaze latched onto the movement of her breasts, and his temperature ratcheted up another notch. Eyes up, Whitehorse.
“Do you like salmonberry jam?”
Jerking his gaze up to hers, he mumbled something semi-coherent like, “Mmm. Is that what this is?” Chew, Whitehorse!
“Uncle Bob made it from a local berry.” She licked at a bit of pink jam stuck to the corner of her lip.
Stop looking at her lips!
Conan put his heavy head in Ty’s lap, pleading for a handout. Perfect distraction, thanks dog. I can’t seem to eat, anyway.
Holly laughed. “You’ve got a buddy, there. Careful, he might want to go home with you.”
“I’m sure the guys would love him.”
“Guys?”
He ignored the question. He wasn’t about to talk about his team or go into why he was here in Alaska. The less she knew, the safer she’d be if Crow’s men found the cabin. Diversion was the best policy. “Want a bite of smoked salmon, boy? Is it okay, Mom?” Ty glanced up at Holly.
“Sure. Go ahead. We can feed them properly after our breakfast.”
Conan licked Ty’s fingers getting every drop of smoked salmon. “Just leave a little skin on there, boy. I need my fingers to give your mom a massage.”
“Mercy.” She took a swig of coffee.
Ty pushed Conan off his lap. “We need to get the circulation back in your feet. May I?” he lifted her feet into his lap.