Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  “Salmon?”

  Dale nodded without taking his lips from my neck.

  “You made salmon?” I pushed him gently back by his shoulders.

  The dreamy look on his face was precious. Slightly ruffled hair, a healthy blush on his cheeks, those disarming eyes. What’s not to love?

  “Yeah.” He released my leg somewhat absentmindedly, as if unsure how it had wound up in his hand in the first place. “Don’t you like salmon? I figured I’d make you an Alaskan favorite.”

  “I love salmon. It’s my favorite fish. But you didn’t have to—”

  He put his fingers to my lips, pinning them closed.

  I squirmed beneath his grip and swatted his hand away.

  “I know I didn’t have to,” he said. “I wanted to.”

  “Thanks. It smells delicious.”

  “As soon as you tell me what’s in this box, we can start eating said delicious salmon.” He turned on his stocking feet and tapped the top of the pasty box still waiting on the kitchen island. “Maybe Gypsy and Zynk will tell me what’s in here.” He picked up the box and lowered it to the dogs. Both of them scampered over, sniffing and resniffing every angle of the box.

  “You’ll be sorry if they tear into that box before we get a chance to,” I warned.

  Dale placed the box back on the island. He pulled scissors from a nearby drawer and indicated the thin string crisscrossing the box. “May I?”

  “Go for it.”

  He attacked the string and had the top open in seconds. He froze abruptly when he stared into the box.

  “Sikik’s Triple Truffle Chocolate Cake!” His eyes shot open as his tongue skimmed across his bottom lip.

  “That’s exactly how I looked picking it out in the bakery. Only I think I utilized a touch more drool.” I dabbed the tip of my finger into the frosting and held it out to Dale who swirled his tongue, hot and demanding, over it. “Sikik herself assured me this cake was better than any sex I would ever have.”

  “We’ll see about that.” The challenge in Dale’s eyes sent my temperature soaring, and my insides ached for him.

  Chocolate sex and cake. I mean…chocolate cake and sex. Could this night get any more perfect?

  After dinner—yes, at the dining room table—we went outside to feed the other dogs. They were much quieter than the night before. Most of them ate and then meandered back toward their houses.

  “They seem to have lost their fire,” I said, a little concerned as we rinsed the bowls and put everything away in the shed.

  “I worked them out like wild today so they’d be too tired to…interrupt us.”

  “Smart man.”

  “More like selfish.” He looked past me into the second section of the shed and motioned toward his sled. “You want to go for a ride tomorrow?”

  The thought of riding on his winning sled with him charged me with a giddy excitement.

  “Definitely.”

  “Great!” My enthusiasm clearly pleased him as he returned to washing the dog bowls. “There’s still a good enough layer of snow for mushing.”

  “I can’t wait.” My fingers closed around Dale’s forearm as he drained the water from the sink in the shed.

  “I believe there’s a cake inside that can’t wait either.” He tugged me through the shed door and locked it.

  Back in the kitchen, Dale went straight for the cake.

  “Plates?” I tried to remember which cupboard housed the dishes.

  “Plates?” Dale looked at me innocently. “I was planning on cutting this baby in half and eating it right from the box.”

  “Dale.” I slapped him lightly on the bicep, which only made me want to see that particular bicep and all of its toned, defined angles. Man, I couldn’t think straight around this guy.

  “Okay, okay. If you insist on being civil.” Dale padded over to one of the cupboards and extracted two small plates. He pulled a knife from a drawer on the island.

  “You’d better let me handle this.” I reached around him to grip the knife.

  “Don’t trust me?” He looked over his shoulder with a glint in his eyes.

  “No, I don’t,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re going to cut pieces so huge, I’ll need to spend a lifetime on the treadmill working it off.”

  “I have better ways we can work it off.”

  “I’ll bet you do. Give it here, Dale.” I motioned with my fingers for him to hand over the knife. He let out a hiss of breath in mock frustration but gave it to me.

  I cut two conservative pieces and plopped each onto a plate while Dale stood behind me, nibbling my earlobe. I closed the box before Dale could protest, stashed it in the refrigerator, and then dug in the knife drawer for two forks.

  “Aw, forks too? You’re no fun.”

  “No fun?” I cut into my cake and held the piece out to him. He closed his eyes and accepted it, but bit down on the fork so I couldn’t take it back. I pulled lightly and then let go.

  Removing the utensil, Dale said, “My turn.” He used his fingers to break off a piece of cake, and chocolate frosting smeared his skin. When he held it out to me, I kissed my way from his glorious lips, down his arm, to his fingertips, where I consumed the cake as my lips slid by. I ran my tongue along the palm of his hand until every chocolate crumb disappeared. He groaned with pleasure, his eyes closed again.

  “I take it back,” he said. “You’re the most fun person I’ve ever known.”

  People back home in New York would have disagreed, but I was a different person here in Alaska. I liked this Alanna. Smooth, confident, alluring. What was in the fresh mountain air around these parts anyway, and could I bottle it to take it home?

  Eating chocolate cake had always been a rather seductive experience even when I was alone in my apartment. Eating it with Dale, however, was downright orgasmic. Talk about foreplay. I never thought licking frosting off another human being could be so…so tantalizing. Bless, Sikik.

  Dale guided me toward the fireplace in the living room where he had organized a puffy quilt, several pillows, and candles. Tons of them along the mantle and hearth. On the end tables flanking the couch. In a crystal bowl of water on the coffee table. Flames flickered their orange-yellow greeting in all corners of the room. The heat and glow were so cozy, so inviting.

  “Oh, Dale,” I whispered. “It’s breathtaking.”

  Standing behind me, he slipped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. “So are you.”

  Ten days in Alaska wasn’t nearly enough time.

  ****

  When I awoke in the morning, Dale’s arm was slung over me; his braced wrist rested on my stomach. Peeking under the covers, I made a soft, yummy noise. That brace was the only thing he wore. I let the covers drop back down before I overheated again. At the movement of the sheet and blankets, he shifted closer to me in his sleep. His arm tightened slightly around my waist as a little crease formed between his eyebrows. A soft groan escaped from his lips. Did his wrist hurt? Was he dreaming?

  Shifting a little myself, I combed my fingers through his tousled hair. In the dawning light rippling into the room, his hair was a medley of browns and coppery tints. I traced a line with my index finger along his temple, down his cheek, and around his whiskered chin. A different sound, something like the purr of a large feline, hummed from his throat, and his lips twitched upward on one side.

  Slowly, he raised his braced hand to catch mine and press it to his cheek. His eyes opened, one at a time, and his smile grew to full-blown charming.

  “Whew.” He closed his eyes again.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Glad you’re really here, and I’m not dreaming.” He opened his eyes again and looked at me.

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” My throat tightened a little at how much truth that statement held.

  “Really?” Dale propped himself on one elbow. His other arm slid across my stomach and lingered.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak ste
adily. Dale rested his head on my shoulder, his hair soft against my skin. I slipped my hand to his back and kneaded the muscles there until he nipped playfully at the valley between my breasts. His tongue did things to my skin that caused spontaneous combustion.

  “This,” he said, his voice still laced with slumber, “is the way to wake up.”

  “Beats the hell out of an alarm clock.”

  “Or Gypsy slobbering all over you.”

  “Yes, I much prefer you slobbering all over me.”

  “I’ll slobber all over you any time you want.” He pushed himself up, hovering over me so his lips were parallel to my own. “You want?”

  “I’ll have to think about it.” Seeing his pout, I couldn’t resist lifting my head to devour him. His arms gave way as soon as I made contact, and his body rested atop mine. I slid my hands around his shoulders and relished the feel of him, the heat of him, as he brought all my senses to the edge of sanity.

  A girl could fall in love with a guy like Dale.

  Shit.

  I pushed the thought away, but as the kiss grew fiery and my insides spun about happily, it was too late. It had already happened, and I was powerless against it. I didn’t want to fight it, but this game was risky.

  “C’mon.” Dale broke into my mini-panic attack. “Let’s get up. I want to have enough time to show off the dogs on our sled ride today.”

  Dale’s excitement was like that of a young boy on Christmas morning. Damn. He kept getting more and more adorable every second I spent with him. Another reminder to not spend any more seconds with him flashed across my brain, but it was amazing what I could ignore.

  Dale pulled me out of bed and led me to the bathroom. He reached his hand into the shower and turned on the water while I took my turn leaning against the threshold, enjoying the view.

  “Did you design all of these rooms?” They had the polished look of a more feminine eye. Who had picked out all of the little details and where was she now?

  “Yes. My sister helped. Something not to your liking?” He folded his arms across his bare chest, and from there my gaze wandered southward.

  “No, no.” I held my hands out, eyeing specific parts of his anatomy. “Everything is perfect.”

  The dimple in his cheek appeared as he tugged me into the room with him.

  “I want to soap every inch of your glorious body.” His breath was hot in my ear.

  “Am I that dirty?” I planted light kisses along his neck and shoulder.

  Dale laughed and opened the shower door for me as he bowed. “Dirty ladies first.”

  I shoved him back a bit, and he raised his eyebrows before slipping his hand from the brace. As he stepped into the shower with me, he winced and rubbed his wrist with his other hand.

  “Does that feel any better?” I eased his arm under the hot spray of water raining onto me.

  “No. Not really. Pisses me off. I was stupid. Should have just let go of the sled.” He shook his head and flexed his right hand. A pained breath slipped from his throat.

  “Give yourself a break, Dale.” I grabbed his other hand and tugged him into the stream of water, closer to me. “You’d crossed the finish line, achieved your goal, won the race. You’re allowed to not be thinking clearly after that.”

  He shrugged, but his lips turned up as his eyes combed over me.

  “Am I allowed to not be thinking clearly now?”

  He slid his left arm around my waist, and our wet bodies met in a haze of steam.

  “I haven’t been thinking with any sense or reason since I met you,” I said, enjoying the feel of Dale’s body against mine. I couldn’t get close enough, but I wanted to try. Often.

  With his lips on mine, Dale reached behind me for the soap. He stepped away and lathered his hands in slow motion. The suds built on his capable hands. I wanted him to touch me. More than I’d ever wanted anything.

  Dale maneuvered to switch spots with me. I raked my fingers through his hair, wetting it in the shower spray. Droplets of water beaded in his lashes and rolled down his cheeks when he blinked. In the dim light of the shower stall, his eyes were the color of fresh pine needles, and they had me completely under his spell. What kind of magic was this?

  More importantly, how did I keep it from becoming a curse?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Is this right?”

  Dale came over to inspect Gypsy’s harness. “Yep. Looks like you’re a born musher.” He elbowed me.

  “Nah, you’re just a brilliant teacher.” I nudged him back, enjoying how easy it was to be around Dale. He was like an old pair of sweatpants, warm from the dryer and comfortable around the waist.

  “Now, attach the tugline to the towline like this.” Dale secured Zynk’s harness as a demonstration. He stepped back and shook his right hand.

  “Are you going to be able to drive the sled?” I asked. “I don’t want you to further injure yourself on my account.”

  “Who said I was driving the sled?” He grinned at the shock on my face.

  “You don’t think…I mean, I can’t…I don’t know how…” I dropped the tugline and fumbled around at my feet to pick it up.

  “It’s easy. The dogs do most of the work anyway. They’re the real athletes in the sport of mushing.” Dale gave Zynk a scratch between the ears.

  “But all the commands and whatever. I don’t know what to do.” Panic streaked through me. I loved ATVing and snowmobiling, but in both of those the driver had complete control. With mushing, the dogs were an uncertain element. They had minds too, which might not be in sync with mine. They definitely were in sync with Dale. But me? I’d only fed them twice. Who was I to them?

  Dale must have seen the color drain from my face. He left Zynk’s side and, with one long stride, stood beside me. “I’ll be with you on the runners, silly. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He tapped my chin with his gloved finger.

  One woman melted in the snow coming right up.

  Dale tugged on the various lines connecting the dogs, and each dog nuzzled him when he passed. Nodding, he walked into the shed.

  “Help me with the sled?” he called over his shoulder.

  I followed him. First he paused beside a collection of snow pants hanging on pegs along the shed wall.

  “These ought to fit you.” Dale selected a black pair and held them out to me. “They’re my sister’s. Everyone in my entire family keeps a set here for when we play in the snow.”

  That explained the three sets of children’s snow pants that hung short, the legs not reaching the floor of the shed. They were adorable. I slipped into the pants Dale handed me, which fit perfectly. A snicker from Dale made me glance up.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m wondering if there’s a sick psychological explanation for why I’m attracted to someone with a figure like my sister’s.”

  “Your sister must be a lovely woman.” I posed for Dale in the snow pants.

  He pulled on my hair, which I had twisted into a long braid. “C’mon, you nut.”

  Together we maneuvered the sled out into the kennel yard. Only pockets of snow dotted the area. Dale opened the fence gate and, on a quick whistle, the harnessed dogs followed him out to the woods beyond the yard.

  “I shovel the snow from the yard so I can get to the dogs’ shelters and the shed,” he said. “There should be more than enough snow back here for a solid ride.”

  Following Dale’s simple hand gesture, a tightened fist held out in front of him, all the dogs stood statue still right where Dale had left them. “Let’s strap the dogs to the sled and we’ll be off.”

  In a few moments, Dale attached the final lines. He threw a pack of supplies into the basket of the sled. “Come here.” He motioned for me to step onto the sled’s runners at the back.

  Fortunately, excitement outweighed nerves at this point; the adventurous girl in me thirsted for some action. I hopped onto the runners and then positioned my hiking boots where Dale point
ed. He stepped on behind me, and I loved being trapped between the sled and his body.

  “Oh, boy,” Dale said.

  “What?” I looked ahead at the dogs for a problem.

  “I would have run the Iditarod in slow motion if I’d been standing behind you like this.” He burrowed his face into my neck and nipped my ear with his teeth. He pressed his lips to my neck. “Ready?”

  I nodded, too turned on to speak. Everything Dale did aroused me.

  Pulling my scarf up and my hat down, he whispered, “Situate your goggles and yell hike when you’re ready.” He pulled up the fur-trimmed hood of his green jacket and moved his own goggles into place. When his hands were back around me and on the handles of the sled, he said, “All set.”

  “Hike,” I yelled.

  With a minor jolt, the dogs took off, the sled along with them. My insides jumped around as the dogs pulled us over thin spots of snow. Each bump made me tighten my grip on the sled’s handles, but soon it smoothed out as we hit deeper, icier snow. The wind stung my face, the little of it that showed anyway, but my coat kept the rest of me toasty. Or was it the phenomenal musher behind me that kept me warm?

  Aside from the soft jingle of the clamps on the lines and the shush of the snow beneath the sled runners, the white world that stretched before us was serene and freeing. Muscles flexed in Zynk’s hind legs as he trotted in front of the sled, and I was amazed at the precision in his technique.

  “Up ahead,” Dale said, his face still close to my ear, “we want to turn right. You’re going to give the command gee and then lean into the turn. Okay?”

  “Got it.” The turn appeared, and I did as Dale had instructed. All the dogs, as if sharing a single brain, moved toward the right in perfect synchronicity at my command. I let out a giddy squeal, and Dale squeezed his elbows together, catching me between them.

  “You wouldn’t be having fun, now would you?”

  “With you? Never.”

  His laugh echoed in my ears, and I could think of no other sound so enjoyable.

  We rode for a while and then stopped to drink steaming hot chocolate from a thermos Dale had packed. He checked the paws of all the dogs and deemed them in good condition, so we got back on the runners to continue on our mini-expedition.