* * *
THE NEXT MORNING TANSY stood in her T-shirt and panties, scrambling eggs at the stove. She’d had the best night’s rest since she’d been here. Masturbation didn’t even come close to a man’s touch, the slide of skin against skin, the fullness of a man’s penis inside her, but her orgasm as she’d imagined hard, rough sex—which was unlike any sex she’d had before—with Sergeant
Alpha-Male Sharpshooter next door had been great. She’d slept like a baby and woken up ravenous.
The screen door slammed and she glanced out the window. Liam wore running shoes, shorts and a sweatshirt. The man boasted some nice legs, that was for sure. She’d sort of missed that yesterday, she’d been so busy checking out other parts of his anatomy. Nicely muscled. He was just altogether a fine specimen of a man.
He took off at a jog on the trail to the left of the cabins that skirted the lake. Swimming. Running. It all explained that nice hard body. With a start she realized she was scorching her eggs. She yanked the pan off the burner. His arrogant self would probably love the fact that she’d nearly burned her breakfast because of him.
Regardless, she ate the eggs, at least the ones that hadn’t stuck to the bottom of the pan, and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. She eyed her meager wardrobe, hesitating in a way she never did over what to wear. Defiantly, she pulled on her least favorite shirt she’d packed and a pair of jeans. She might be in some crazy heightened sexual state over the man next door but she’d be damned if she’d alter her routine because of him.
Ten minutes later, face washed, teeth and hair brushed, minimal makeup on, she settled on the sofa with her laptop. She opened her document and got herself oriented in the work.
Engrossed, she heard the motorcycle roar to life. She glanced at her clock. She’d been at it for an hour and a half. And she’d accomplished more today than she had since her arrival last week. She supposed she should’ve tried a head-to-head argument and masturbation earlier. Infuriating man.
With a grin, she got back to work, the sound of the motorcycle fading in the distance.
Midmorning, she’d just stood to stretch when the truck rumbled down the driveway. She went out onto the front porch. The driver, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard, rolled down the window. “Name’s Clyde. Bull sent me.”
“Hi, I’m Tansy. If you could just put it right there.” She pointed to the area separating the two cabins.
Clyde climbed out of the cab. He picked up the first bag of sand out of the cargo bed. “You want me to spread it around or something?”
“No. You can just put them there.”
She’d called Bull yesterday to see if he stocked sand and some rope. She was in luck on both counts. She’d planned to drive in but he’d offered to have Clyde stop by with it on his way to deliver supplies to Sven’s crew. It worked for her.
“Whatever you say.” He stacked the bags where she’d indicated and added the length of rope she’d also ordered. “So, you making some kind of beach or something here?”
His look clearly said he thought she’d lost her mind. She wasn’t too sure that she hadn’t. Her plan was a little out there. It might have to do with being in Alaska, or at this cabin, or maybe it was her experience with Bradley, or even something to do with Liam that had sparked something in her. On the other hand, like the last box on a multiple choice test, it might be all of the above. Whatever the reason, the idea had just popped into her head, and although she normally would’ve dismissed it, she was going with it.
“Not a beach. Just something.”
“Alrighty then. Bull said to leave the shovel, as well, so here ya go.”
“Thanks so much.” Tansy tried to press a five-dollar tip into Clyde’s hand.
“Sorry, can’t take that. Bull wouldn’t like it.”
“Tell him I said thank you so much and I really appreciate it.” Clyde was heading out to the construction site where Liam was working. “Oh, yeah, and remember not to say anything because this is a surprise for Sergeant Reinhardt.”
Clyde grinned, obviously delighted to be part of a surprise, even if he did think she was nuts. “My lips are sealed.”
An hour later, Tansy’s shoulders ached and she’d worked up a sweat. Stepping back, she eyed her handiwork.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
* * *
“YOU DO GOOD WORK,” Sven Sorenson said.
Liam had spent the day carrying and hanging Sheetrock. They were building a bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of town. They’d all headed over to Gus’s for some lunch and while the place had been crowded and he’d seen Jenna, Tansy hadn’t been there. Sven’s crew, however, was a good group of guys.
“Thanks.” Liam liked the big blond guy who could’ve doubled as a Viking stand-in in an action flick. “So do you.” Sven had remodeled/updated the cabins out at Shadow Lake.
The other man smiled. “I try. So, same time tomorrow? I can use you if you’re up for it.”
“I’ll be here.” Liam nodded and walked over to his motorcycle. A few minutes later he was opening the throttle on his bike, relaxing into the ride. It had been hard work, but it hadn’t pushed him to his limit, not even with the run he’d gotten in ahead of time.
He drove along the road that had been cut through the towering evergreens. Clouds dotted the expanse of blue sky. The wind felt good against his skin. It was one of the best days he’d had since he’d been told about his discharge. It was good to be in the company of men all working toward a common purpose, even if it wasn’t defeating the enemy.
Tansy had drifted through his thoughts throughout the day. Her front door had been closed when he went out for his run this morning and it had still been shut when he’d headed out to work. But she’d been there and she’d been up. He’d sensed her, felt her looking at him when he’d set out on his morning run, the way he’d always felt a countersniper sighting him.
He turned onto the road leading to the cabins and there she was, sitting on the front step, the same as she’d been yesterday when he’d arrived. A part of him had wondered if she might have left, but the greater part of him had known she’d still be around.
The late-afternoon sun glinted in her hair, picking up threads of red. She wore jeans and a striped T-shirt, but the clothes really didn’t matter because now he knew exactly what curves lay beneath her attire. All that was left was to fill in the details...and he’d more than like to fill in those blanks in his mind. The desire he’d felt yesterday and last night had been simmering beneath his surface all day and now seeing her was like throwing gasoline on an ember—it exploded inside him.
Caught up in her, he didn’t notice it until he was almost upon it. What the...? He wanted to throw his head back and laugh. The woman was crazy, mad as a hatter. It was the same kind of crazy tactic he’d employed last night.
He pulled up in front of his cabin, killed the engine and climbed off. Pulling off his helmet, he walked over to the strip of sand that ran the length of the cabins with a length of rope down the center of the sand. General Wellington, he quickly designated her, had literally drawn a line in the sand.
“And what’s this supposed to be?” he said, walking forward until the toe of his boot rested against the rope.
She approached on her side until mere inches, and the line, separated them. She brimmed with smug self-satisfaction...and sexuality. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you know exactly what it is.”
God, she smelled good, like sunshine, woman and some bath stuff. Her lips were as full and ripe as the rest of her. He ached to kiss that smirk right off of her face, but that didn’t seem to be the best tactical move right now. “So what happens if one of us crosses the line?” he asked in a low tone.
A slight breeze ruffled her hair. The exchange took on a whole new meaning. The shift wasn’t lost on her, either. Her eyes widened behind her glasses and the air between them sizzled.
She rimmed her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, a nervous gesture,
but it immediately brought to mind his fantasy last night of her mouth on his cock. Her proximity and that memory had an instant hardening effect on him.
“Crossing the line is a very bad idea. Just know there will be dire consequences.”
He smiled. Smiling in the face of an enemy messed with its mind. “Is that a fact? I’ve faced dire consequences before and lived to tell it.”
“Clearly,” she countered. “Do you always state the obvious?”
“Only to reinforce a point.” He inched his boot forward until it rested on the line, nearly over. “What are you going to do about it, Wellington? Or should I call you General Wellington?”
She arched one eyebrow? “Really? You consider this your Waterloo? And if I’m General Wellington, that puts you on the losing side, doesn’t it?”
Ha. So, she’d paid attention during world history classes. “What are you prepared to do if I invade your territory?”
“You’re the one who made such an issue of your privacy. So, why are you standing here now when we agreed to stay out of each other’s business? To ignore each other?”
Jesus, he wanted to touch her, taste her, bury himself in her.
“You’re avoiding the question. You drew the line. You never draw the line if you’re not willing to back it up with action.”
“Don’t try me, Reinhardt.” He’d never wanted to try a woman more, try her on for size, texture, fit. “It’s not a dare. It’s just the boundaries you made such a big deal about.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“I call bullshit on that because you can’t handle me.”
“Maybe I can and maybe I can’t, but I can promise you I’ll go down trying.” I’ll go down...her warm wet mouth encompassing him... Dammit, he was throbbing for her. “Just watch me if you—”
“Watching you was a pleasure.”
For a second she froze. “You...when...”
He leaned down until her hair brushed against his face, his lips nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Last night. You were outlined against the blinds. How was it?”
“Oh, God.”
“Did you think about me?” He paused and while it might seem for effect, he had to struggle to collect himself. He was far from immune to her nearness. She tested his mettle, his self-control. “I thought about you.”
“You...you’re reprehensible.” But there was no venom behind it, merely a breathless desperation.
“And it doesn’t matter, does it, Tansy, because I turn you on, just like you turn me on.”
“You don’t...” She petered out. “I don’t like you.”
He respected the fact she didn’t deny he turned her on. That took some guts. Wellington was no wimp beneath her soft facade.
“I know. I don’t want you to like me.”
“Why not? What are you afraid of? What are you so angry about?”
“My business is none of your business.”
She stood her ground. “Then don’t make it my business.” She looked down at where his boot rested on the orange mark. “I’d suggest you continue to toe the line and leave it at that.”
Smart-ass. And then he did laugh. “I’ll outmaneuver you every time, Wellington.”
“It doesn’t matter—” she paused deliberately
“—Reinhardt. I outrank you. You’re just a sergeant—” her grin socked him in the gut “—I’m a general. You’re out of your league.”
She turned on her heel and walked back to her cabin. He let her go. It wasn’t a retreat, but rather a triumphant march. He stood there until the door closed behind her.
Outranked? Perhaps. Out of his league? Never. He’d felled an opposing general with a single shot from a mile away.
General Wellington should be quaking in her proverbial boots.
* * *
MALLORY SET HER TRAVEL case at the foot of the quilt-
covered double bed in the Good Riddance Bed & Breakfast, which was located on the second floor of the airstrip office.
“Come on down when you get settled and let me know if there’s anything you need,” Merilee Swenson said.
“Will do. I’m just going to freshen up a bit. It’s been a long day.”
“Traveling all the way from Louisiana will do that.” She shook her head, smiling. “That was some timing that you called just after we got that cancellation. We’re at full capacity.” She laughed. “All four rooms.” She crossed the threshold. “See you in a bit and holler if you need anything.” She closed the door behind her.
Mallory sat on the bed’s edge and reoriented herself. It had been an exhausting, yet invigorating, day—
airports and connections and then the bush plane flight out to here. She’d never been to Alaska before and all the Google images and pictures couldn’t begin to do justice to the breathtaking splendor of the Alaskan wilderness.
And she was one step closer to initiating contact with Liam Reinhardt. He hadn’t moved on, but then again she’d been sure he wouldn’t. He was still here. And in a town this size and given they were both newcomers, an introduction was inevitable. For all she knew, he could be staying in the room next door. And she took it as a providential sign that a room had opened up just before she called.
There had been so many signs that had made the rightness of her and Liam impossible to ignore. She’d taken it as a sign that she’d been able to...well, hack was sort of an ugly word, she preferred access...access his personnel files so easily. She knew he was divorced, she knew how much money he’d made, and once she had his Social Security number, with a little computer ingenuity, she even knew his net worth. But those weren’t the really important things she’d discovered. Knowing both his zodiac sign and his year of birth, she’d run compatibility reports on her and Liam as a couple, both astrological and Chinese horoscope. It had been another green light when the reports said she and Liam were a well-matched pair. If that wasn’t an important sign, she didn’t know what was. She might be a military historian and know her way around a weapon or two and combat tactics, but she was a woman and a romantic at heart. The stars had ordained them as a couple.
She glanced around the room, which imparted a peacefulness. She ran her hand over the cotton squares, her fingers encountering the tiny ridges formed by rows of small, straight stitches connecting them. The squares were a soothing mix of florals and stripes in faded shades of lavender, yellow and rose. Ecru lace curtains hung at the window. A small yellow-and-rose braided rug was on the wood floor next to the bed. A lone framed watercolor hung on the wall. Snow-laden spruce branches bowed beneath their winter weight, while chickadees perched on the branches. A snowshoe hare sat poised on the snowy ground. Rather than icy cold, the place embodied serenity. A small bowl of fresh lemon slices and dried lavender on the bedside nightstand perfumed the air.
She crossed to the window, pushing aside the lace curtain to look down at the small town nestled against a surreal backdrop of evergreens, distant mountains and blue sky. The sounds of life drifted up—childish laughter, a barking dog, the distinct hum of a diesel-engine truck, adult voices. A bird—she didn’t know if it was a hawk, vulture or eagle, as bird identification wasn’t her forte—seemed to float on a wind current in the distance.
Biting back a sigh at the utter tranquility around her, she made her way down the hall to the communal bathroom Merilee had pointed out. Ten minutes later, she was back downstairs in the airstrip office and had gotten the rundown on the restaurant/bar next door and the rest of the town’s accommodations and attractions.
“I think I’d like to book a massage at that day spa.” She might as well make the most of her time here.
“You can either drop by or I can call for you.”
Mallory hesitated. “I’ll just drop by.
“Sure. It’s easy to find.” Merilee Swenson laughed. “Everything here is easy to find.”
There was much to be said for easy to find but that didn’t always get you what you
wanted. Liam Reinhardt had been easy enough to find. Yet another indication they belonged together. Once they met, she was sure he’d know it, too.
5
TANSY BRUSHED ON another coat of mascara and checked herself in the mirror, leaning in close to peer without the aid of her glasses. Good, no clumps. The screen door slammed next door.
She left the bathroom and went to the kitchen window. Liam was heading toward the lake, barefoot again. She checked her watch. Yep, same time he’d gone for a swim yesterday. Sheer cussedness kept her at the window. She’d always had a streak of cussedness but something about Alaska was really bringing it out in her. Perhaps it was because everything seemed a little more authentic, a little stripped of the veneer of polite society here.
Okay, and she had to be honest with herself. She wanted to see him naked again. Who was she kidding? She wanted to feel him naked against her, in her. And the dreadful man knew it. And she didn’t know if she was appalled or gratified that he wanted her, as well.
He’d watched her last night, seen her touch herself. And the beast had known she was thinking of him, imagining his fingers plying her slick folds, wanting him on her, in her, taking her hard and fast.
The intensity, the raw sexual want she’d seen in his eyes today... Bradley had never looked at her like that. No man had ever looked at her like that. And it was heady, potent, thoroughly confusing stuff.
She watched him now, even though she should turn away and go about her business. Again, he methodically disrobed and stood tall and proud at the water’s edge. Broad shoulders, trim waist, a perfect butt giving way to strong thighs and muscled calves.
Want warred with reason. Want won. Arousal, barely held at bay, gripped her. She’d been wet with desire ever since that encounter at the line today. Simply the heat of his breath against her ear, the scent of sweat and man, had nearly driven her mad as she stood toe-to-toe with him. She wanted to know the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, against her belly and thighs. She longed for his taste, for the warmth of his breath against her skin, his mouth on her breasts, the press of him inside her.
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