Alaska Heart
Author: Christine DePetrillo
Date: 2010-08-15 13:29:37+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Contemporary; Fiction
Description: Alaska is supposed to be cold, so why is Alanna Cormac on fire? Sent on a dream assignment to Denali National Park, nature magazine writer Alanna Cormac has no intentions of falling in love with Dale Ramsden, sexy Iditarod winner. When Dale, his family, and even his eighteen sled dogs charm their way into her heart, however, Alanna's fast-track New York instincts crumble. The Alaskan landscape and the caress of a man too good to be true ignite feelings she never had time to explore before. Feelings that have her so blissfully busy she's unaware she's being watched. Judged. Targeted. She's next
Publisher: Wild Rose Press

“When you turn around, look first. You can grab your camera after. Okay?”

“Okay.” Anticipation buzzed through me. Or was it being so close to Dale?

With a little nudge, Dale spun me around, and a gasp caught in my throat. His hands closed over my shoulders, anchoring me, keeping me earthbound amongst what had to be heaven.

Rising above all the other mountains in the distance, Mount McKinley reached into the cerulean Alaskan sky like a white giant. Its peaks were arrowheads of rock encrusted in snow that glistened magically in the pink of the late afternoon sunlight. How incredibly small I was, like a speck of dust in comparison to the majesty of McKinley.

“Oh, Dale…” My voice was nothing more than a rasp. I let my pack drop to my feet and leaned back against him. He folded his arms around me and squeezed. When I thought the moment couldn’t get any closer to perfection, he loosened my scarf enough to nuzzle his cold nose against my neck. Though I initially shivered at the contact, he quickly warmed the spot with the heat of his lips.

Giving McKinley another look, I turned around to face Dale. He trailed his lips over my cheek and finally to my mouth where he did things that made my head spin. Our lips met as we tasted, savored each other. Great Goddess, I had shut myself off for too long. Or maybe I’d been waiting. Waiting for him.

Whatever the case, Dale unlocked emotions in me. Trust, wanting, love. I wasn’t sure what to do with any of these, but my heart thudded wildly in my chest over the prospect. My skin longed to have Dale’s fingers spread across every inch of it. My lips wanted him to never stop kissing me.

“Take your pictures.” The words were a whisper. “And let’s go.”

Praise for ALASKA HEART

“Christine DePetrillo's story grabs you and keeps you reading from the first page to the last. This is a story you won't want to miss.”

~JM Griffin, author of For Love of Livvy, Dirty Trouble, and the Faerie Cake Dead novels

“DePetrillo writes a wonderful story with an intriguing blend of sarcasm, adventure, and emotion. The description makes Alaska come alive, and the voice captivates, making the reader forget it's a book.”

~Eden Elgabri, author of Magick Touch, Toy with Me, and Conference Cupid

Alaska Heart
by

Christine DePetrillo

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright © 2010 by Christine DePetrillo

Originally published by Wild Rose Press

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by AmazonEncore, Seattle
www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonEncore are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

eISBN: 9781503990296

Cover Designer: Angela Anderson

This title was previously published by Wild Rose Press; this version has been reproduced from Wild Rose Press archive files.

Dedication

To my grandmother,
who has always made me feel like a celebrity

Dear Reader,

WARNING: This book has the amazing ability to turn cat people into dog people, warm-weather folks into cold-weather folks, skeptics into believers in true love. Proceed with caution, but don’t be afraid to enjoy yourself.

Happy reading,

Christine DePetrillo

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

A word about the author...

Chapter One
gaia-girl706:

Congratulations! First place in the Iditarod. Impressive!

sled-dog16:

Thanks! Looking forward to taking some time off now.

gaia-girl706:

You deserve some rest.

sled-dog16:

Think my body—and my dogs—demand it.

gaia-girl706:

LOL. What will you do?

sled-dog16:

Sleep. ☺
gaia-girl706:

Slob. ☺
sled-dog16:

Definitely. If you’d come up to Fairbanks to visit me, maybe I wouldn’t be so bored during my “well-deserved” rest.

gaia-girl706:

Smart girls don’t just pack up and fly across the country to visit a complete stranger. Don’t you ever watch the news? That’s how people get chopped up into little bits and sold on e-Bay.

sled-dog16:

1. Uhh…hello? Can’t call me a “complete stranger” after a year of emailing.

2. They don’t let serial killers race in the Iditarod.

3. C’mon. Got a kick-ass log cabin. Nice and quiet.

gaia-girl706:

Nice and quiet! Just what a serial killer would want. A place where no one would hear the victim’s screams.

sled-dog16:

Okay, okay. Not nice and quiet. Loud—lots of dogs barking all the time—with cops riding by every 15 minutes.

gaia-girl706:

Why are cops riding by every 15 minutes? You under surveillance?

sled-dog16:

*sigh*
gaia-girl706:

Don’t be so dramatic.

sled-dog16:

Me?

gaia-girl706:

Yes, you. You know I’m right. Can’t come to Fairbanks. Besides the obvious fact you could be a lunatic, I have to work.

sled-dog16:

Not a lunatic. You write for a magazine. Could do that anywhere. Even in Fairbanks.

gaia-girl706:

My profile says I write for a magazine, but how do you know that’s true? Maybe I’m with the FBI and in the middle of an important, matter-of-national-security case right now.

sled-dog16:

If you’re with the FBI, why are you afraid of a harmless dog racer?

gaia-girl706:

How do I know you’re harmless?

sled-dog16:

*double sigh* Look me up on the web, will ya? Do a search on “handsome Iditarod winner.” I assure you, I will come up clean as a whistle.

gaia-girl706:

Always found whistles to be kinda dirty. Spit gets trapped in them and such.

sled-dog16:

Shit. You’re impossible!

gaia-girl706:

True. See, you don’t want someone like me to visit you. Just drive you nuts.

sled-dog16:

That could be a good thing. ☺ Think about it, okay? Check out my background with your FBI colleagues and think about it. Open invite. Just come.

I stared at sled-dog16’s last words on my laptop screen.

Just come.

Yeah, okay. Simply toss my parka, mittens, and several pairs of ugly thermal underwear into my suitcase and trek from New York to Alaska. To stay with a man I’d never met, no less. Good way to end up dead for sure. No, thanks. I was fond of being alive.

I jumped when my cell phone rang. Okay, technically it played a Metallica montage, but anyway, hard rock fit the pace of my work life at Gaia magazine. Every day was hustle and bustle. For the most part though, I craved the insanity, the momentum. Sitting idly made me nervous. The busier I was, the better. Another reason I couldn’t fathom dropping everything and going to Alaska. Too much landscape and serenity for the city girl I’d become.

My phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Are you on your way or what?”

Just like Meg. Had the patience of a mosquito. “Yeah, I’m coming. Why are you in such a rush anyway?” I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder while I globbed toothpaste onto my brush.

“I just have some major news to tell you about last night at The Hive.” Meg let out a breathy sigh. The Hive was the newest New York hotspot dance club. It literally resembled a bee’s hive complete with bouncers dressed in black-and-yellow striped shirts. I’d gone a couple of times with Meg, but was never comfortable with the half-naked dress code. Too many drones trying to get with one queen.

“So, who is he?” A fat bead of foamy toothpaste dribbled down my chin while I waited for a response.

“Nope,” Meg said. “On the drive in. Hurry up.” She hung up and once again I was left to wonder. She always did that to me.

When I’d first met her, she’d folded her arms across her chest to regard me in my cubicle at Gaia.

“I write the gardening column for Gaia, and my cubicle is down the hall. You and I are going to be friends, or I’m going to take a shotgun to the morons who work here. I’ve had enough. See you at lunch.”

Having said that, she marched out on the highest pair of heels I’d ever seen, and we’ve been friends ever since. That was nearly six years ago.

As I dressed for work, I glanced at a photo of Meg and me on my bureau. I didn’t put it there. Meg did. Plopped it right down after my dad died and said I still had family who loved me. Her. Meg was outspoken, bossy, and downright irritating sometimes, but she was right. She was my family, and I loved her like a sister.

That explains why I raced to her apartment to hear last night’s Adventures in the Life of Meg Petrisi. When I parked in front of her apartment building, Meg was sitting on the front steps talking to one of her neighbors. The older woman wagged a finger at her, no doubt giving Meg advice. Meg shifted her eyes to my car and smiled. She slid off the steps and backed over to the car door.

“Okay. Yes, yes, I will. Thank you.” Meg huffed as she closed the door. “I don’t know why that woman is compelled to give me tips about protecting myself.”

I looked over at Meg’s outfit. Black mini-skirt, silver camisole with what looked like a gray fishnet tossed over it, knee-high black boots with deadly spikes for heels flowing into black pantyhose.

“It’s a mystery, Meg.” I shrugged. I said I loved Meg. I didn’t say I always got her. “Okay, spill it.”

“Spill what?” Meg tossed her jet-black hair back. I should go on record as saying Meg was definitely the more attractive of the two of us. Men crossed crowded rooms all the time to stand next to Meg. She had that exotic beauty thing going with her sleek, dark hair, olive skin, and chocolate eyes. Besides that, she was a fitness nut, and her body showed it.

On the other hand, I was your average, 5’6” brunette. My hair was long and wavy, usually gathered in a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way. I had eyes someone once told me were the color of turquoise, but I think he was slightly drunk at the time. Anyway, I wasn’t hideous, but I didn’t sparkle either. Not like Meg.

“C’mon, Meg. You know I live my social life vicariously through yours.” I kept my eyes focused on the road. Mornings in New York City were a driver’s nightmare. Sometimes I thought about getting rid of my car and using the subway. Then I sat behind the steering wheel, the bucket seats hugging my backside, and I couldn’t do it. I loved my car. Loved being in control.

“You could get your own social life you know.” Meg rolled her eyes like she did every time she said I had to get out more, not work so much. Blah, blah, blah.

“I could get my own social life,” I said, “but you know how that always goes. Alanna meets man. Alanna likes man. Man soon becomes a giant pain in my ass. I just don’t have time for it.” Besides, letting someone into your personal circle was always risky.

Meg huffed, letting me know I was hopeless when it came to finding a man. Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn’t care.

Maybe I did.

“So his name is Matt,” Meg finally said. “He’s just adorable. Met him at the bookstore…”

Meg unraveled her tale while I drove us to work. I nodded and commented here and there, but my mind kept wandering to sled dogs.

****

The lime green sticky note stuck to my computer monitor caught my attention as it was intended to do. My boss, Evelynne Seaton, did everything in green. Her office was painted green, and all her furniture was green. She wore green in some shade every day. She edited copy in green ink. She left green sticky notes. She didn’t even have to sign her name.

“9:00, conference room,” this particular note read.

I dumped my bag on my desk, checked my mail, reorganized stacks of papers, and then was fresh out of delay tactics. I went in search of Evelynne. Better to get it over with.

“Hey.” Meg popped up from her cubicle as I passed by.

Okay. Evelynne could wait a few more minutes.

“Hey.” I leaned on the threshold of Meg’s cube. “You know what this is about?” I held up the sticky note.

“Nope,” Meg said. “Got one of my own though.” She waved a matching green square. “You late on something?”

I raised my eyebrows at Meg. How dare she? “Am I ever late?”

Meg shook her head. “No. You work way too hard. I only get these love notes when I’m slacking off.” She looked at her computer screen and sighed. “Probably be getting another one shortly for this.” Meg motioned to the screen and the mishmash of books and papers strewn across her desk. “It’s total crap.”

“I’m sure it’s not total crap.”

“Okay. It’s partial crap, and it’s going to be late partial crap.” She shrugged, then turned her gaze toward me. “You headed to the conference room now?”

I nodded. “You coming?”

“Neither one of us is going in there alone.” Meg pushed away from her desk.

When Evelynne’s secretary saw our lime green sticky notes, she waved us over.

“Go right on in, ladies.” Something in her eyes was electric with anticipation. As if she knew a secret and was excited to send us into the spider’s lair.

“Thanks, Becky.” Why was my throat dry?

When I opened the door to the conference room adjacent to Evelynne’s office, I almost didn’t see her at first. Her dress blended in with the walls so perfectly she was almost totally camouflaged. I was brown, too brown, to be in that room with her. Why hadn’t I made Meg go in first?

“Ah, Alanna.” Evelynne had a way of making words sound like cat purrs. “How are you today?”

Scared. “Fine, thanks. And you?”

“Good. Good. Have a seat. You too, Meg.” She waved to a pair of leather chairs in front of the huge conference table. Evelynne took a seat at the head and nodded to other writers as they trailed in. They all looked like frightened mice in front of a hungry cat.

“How’s the story on urban wildlife habitats going?” Evelynne glanced at me before donning a pair of hunter green reading glasses.

“I’ll probably have it finished by the end of the week,” I said. “I have a few more people to interview and a couple more photos to take.” My palms left wet marks on the thighs of my pants. I shifted my hands to the armrests of the chair, hoping my palms would dry.

“That sounds good.” Evelynne drummed her fingers on the edge of the table as if this small talk was in the way.

“What’s going on, Evelynne?” Meg said. Direct. To the point. Thank the Goddess for Meg.

Evelynne smiled, just a subtle upward twitch of her lips. She signaled to Becky to close the door, sealing us all in together. Becky then bustled around the table dropping sage-colored file folders in front of every writer. When she was done, she slipped out of the room, silent and ghostlike.

“I know you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here this morning,” Evelynne began. Somebody’s chair squeaked at the other end of the table, and all of our heads snapped to that direction. Somebody else poured water, the crystal pitcher clanking against the glass. Every noise made us jump. Tension in the room was at an all time high.

“A special challenge.” Evelynne raised her gray eyes to me first, then rested them on everyone else, one at a time. “It’s promotion time at Gaia.”

Promotion was the magic word. I’d worked for Gaia for six years. I was twenty-eight. Definitely time for the next level. I’d been working toward that level for a while. Every year at promotion time, I dreamed about making the cut, but Evelynne had her favorites, who had been working for her far longer than I had.

This was what I needed. Work was my life. It was all I wanted, all I had.

“Cover stories,” Evelynne said.

Someone whistled. Getting a shot at a cover story was big.

“With photos.”

My own pulse quickened as Meg’s hand clamped onto my forearm under the table.

“Huge office next to mine with a huge paycheck to go along with it.”

I squeezed Meg’s hand and didn’t even care that I was sweating all over hers.

“Promotion time gives me the chance to see who is merely working here and who is making Gaia their life.” Evelynne stood and glided around the room as she spoke. The fabric of her dress whispered as she moved. Her kiwi-scented perfume put us all in a trance.

“I’m going to do things a little differently this year.” She paused just behind me and rested her hands on the back of my chair.

Meg stiffened beside me.

“I want each of you to submit an article proposal—topic, brief description, preliminary outline. The top three will do their stories and battle it out for the promotion. How’s that sound?”

Evelynne walked back to her seat. As she sat, a stunned silence gathered strength in the conference room. No responses. No movement. Nothing. Just pairs of eyes directed toward Evelynne.

“Great,” she said, not worried in the least that her entire staff had gone mute. “Okay, get to it, dears. Proposals on my desk by Wednesday.” Evelynne clapped her hands, which caused us to flinch into action. Most of us left without uttering a word. A few conversed quietly, the exclamation points at the end of their words nearly visible. Meg nudged me out of my own musings, and we shuffled out to her cube.

“Ho-ly shit,” Meg finally said as she leaned against her desk.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” I said. The wheels in my mind turned, picking up pace as Evelynne’s announcement sank in.

“You’re totally going for it, aren’t you?” Meg kicked the tip of my shoe with her foot.

“Be stupid not to,” I said. “You’re going for it too, right?”

“Be stupid not to,” Meg repeated. “But I don’t have a shot.” She walked around her desk and sat. “I’m pretty sure Evelynne only keeps me around because she covets my shoe collection.” When I didn’t laugh, Meg snapped her fingers. “Hey, Earth to Alanna. That was a joke.”

“Right. Sorry. I was—”

“Already working on your story proposal,” Meg finished.

I nodded.

She shrugged. “Don’t let me get in the way. See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, lunch.” I’d already stepped out of her cube headed for my own. Ideas bounced around my head and gave birth to more ideas. By the time I sat at my computer, I had at least ten different notions that could work.

Only one kept surfacing, though, screaming out over the others. Only one just might be the winner.

Chapter Two

“It’s a story on Denali. The Big Five. Moose, caribou, Dall sheep, wolves, and grizzlies.” I took a bite of my apple as I sat across from Meg in the cafeteria.

“It’s a great idea.” Meg played with the straw in her drink. “What made you think of Alaska?”

“Nothing.” I said it too quickly, and Meg narrowed her eyes at me. “Nothing. I’ve always wanted to visit Denali. Doing research on it would be the next best thing.”

Meg nodded, and I let out a breath. I hadn’t told her about sled-dog16. He was mine. Just mine. A secret.

“What are your ideas?” I asked, then took another chunk from my apple.

“I’ve only got one. I don’t even like it. Something about a NASA program that grows plants in space.”

For someone who had all the confidence in the world when it came to men, Meg was unsure of herself at work. She doubted every word she wrote.

“Sounds interesting,” I said. “Very futuristic.”

She shrugged and fiddled with a crust of bread on her tray.

“You’d better enter this little contest Evelynne’s got going,” I said, sensing Meg was thinking otherwise. “No opportunity wasted, right?”

“Right. I know you’re right.”

She was placating me. I could tell.

“Tonight why don’t we each draft up our proposals separately, then we’ll swap them tomorrow. Help each other out. No rules against doing that.”

This perked Meg up a bit. “Okay. Another good idea, Cormac.”

I patted myself on the back, and Meg laughed. She’d write the proposal even if only to make me happy. Probably wrong to manipulate our friendship like that, but I didn’t want Meg to let her fears get the best of her.

Like I was one to talk.

Shaking my head, I gathered my trash and stood. “I’ve got to finish my habitat story before I even consider writing a proposal. See you later.”

Meg saluted me, and I left her to bury myself in my cube. I worked for about two hours and then hopped online. Accessing my personal email account, I deleted the junk and, with an anxious glimpse around my cube, composed an email.

gaia-girl706:

Know anything about Denali?

I let out a little squeak when a new message dinged back right away.

sled-dog16:

I know everything about Denali. Why?

gaia-girl706:

Might be doing a story on it. Wanted the inside scoop. Interested in helping a gal out?

sled-dog16:

If the gal is you, yes. If not, forget it.

Why was it suddenly so warm in my cube? I peeled off my suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my blouse.

gaia-girl706:

The gal IS me, punk. Helping me could mean a big promotion. I’d really appreciate it. If you’re not too busy sleeping, of course. ☺
sled-dog16:

Never too busy for you. Besides I’m climbing the walls now that the race is over and I’m “resting.” I hate resting.

And I’m not a punk.

I laughed quietly in my cube, somehow feeling that sled-dog16 was right there with me and not clear across the country. Why was it so easy to talk and joke with him, a stranger? I didn’t even know what color his eyes were. It took little effort to imagine meeting him face-to-face though.

gaia-girl706:

Okay, because you’re going to help me, I’ll retract the punk statement. For now.

sled-dog16:

Who’s the punk now?

What do you want to know about Denali?

gaia-girl706:

I’ll send you a list of specific questions, but whatever you can think of would be awesome.

sled-dog16:

No prob. If you came up here, I could SHOW you Denali. Hint, hint. ☺ Nothing like seeing it in person.

gaia-girl706:

I’ll bet. Still, you could be a psycho, so we’ll stick to you answering my questions via email for now.

sled-dog16:

You could call me. You know, on the telephone. Wonderful invention. I can’t kill you over the phone. Totally safe.

Call him? Yikes. Curiosity did have me wondering what his voice, his laugh, would sound like. How would my name roll off his tongue?

“What are you thinking, Cormac?” I shook my head and tapped away on my keyboard.

gaia-girl706:

I could, but then I’d miss the excitement of opening my email and finding messages from you. Wouldn’t want to deprive myself.

sled-dog16:

Have it your way, wimp. I shall await your questions, O Big Important Magazine Writer.

gaia-girl706:

Thanks. Talk to you later, He Who Sleds with Dogs.

Reluctant to end the conversation, I closed my email and spent the rest of the day working on my urban habitat story. Technically, only half my brain was devoted to that story. The other half visualized seeing Denali with an Iditarod winner.

****

Nestled in the folds of my chocolate-colored, suede couch, garbed in my favorite sweatpants and T-shirt, I ate the salad and pizza I’d bought from Rita’s, a small Italian place one block from my apartment. Everything was right in the world when I had a slice of Rita’s cheese and pepperoni pizza in my hands. As right as it could be when you’re totally alone in your living room.

With my precious flat screen TV on to fill the silence, I munched and jotted ideas for the Denali piece. Soon, I had a decent list assembled. From the list, I constructed a series of questions to send to sled-dog16. I indulged in daydreaming that we sat across from one another, mugs of hot cocoa wafting steam between us while I asked and he answered. He was right. It would be easier to call him and conduct an official interview as I would for any other story. Something about that notion, however, made me feel as if I’d be turning a corner—one I wasn’t ready to face.

After emailing the questions, I spent another two hours drafting my Denali proposal. Fresh excitement built as it all took shape. I visited a few sites online to garner preliminary information. Then I sketched an opening paragraph, just for fun. The pictures I found were unbelievable. I itched to hike over the pinecone-ridden trails, crisp air filling my city-scarred lungs.

As I marveled over these photos, each one drawing me deeper into nature’s perfection, a ding snapped me back to real time.

sled-dog16:

Got your questions. Answering them right now while lazing in my favorite recliner. Want photos too?

Could someone be deemed adorable purely by the way he phrased an email?

gaia-girl706:

I’ll take anything you’re willing to share.

sled-dog16:

Anything?

gaia-girl706:

Anything about Denali.

sled-dog16:

Damn. ☺ I tried.

Can I ask you a question?

Uh-oh. A question. Where was this going?

gaia-girl706:

As long as I have the option to not answer.

sled-dog16:

Always.

gaia-girl706:

Ask away then.

sled-dog16:

What are you wearing right now?

Laughter overpowered the TV’s volume as I read sled-dog16’s question. Looking down at my sweats, I made a decision.

gaia-girl706:

Who said I was wearing anything right now?

My response was so Meg-ish that I had to laugh. Hanging with her did give me a window into what worked and what didn’t when it came to men. I usually had no desire to test my observations, but with sled-dog16 it was different. We would never meet, never fall head over heels in love with each other. Never mean so much to each other that when one of us did something supremely stupid, the other was left to live with a huge hole where her heart used to be.

No. With sled-dog16 it was fun and games. Nothing heavy. Just the way I wanted it.

sled-dog16:

Naked in NY. I like it. I’d do the same, but it’s too cold for casual nudity in Fairbanks.

I’ll have these questions answered in about an hour. That okay?

gaia-girl706:

Perfect. Thanks again.

sled-dog16:

No, thank you. I’ve got a good image of a naked writer in my head now. Very inspirational.

gaia-girl706:

Depends on which naked writer you have in your head.

sled-dog16:

Had to spoil it, didn’t you? Now I can’t get a naked Edgar Allan Poe out of my head.

Later.

Funny guy, that sled-dog16. What else was he?

I shut down my laptop, watched a TV documentary about the psychology of a killer, and got seriously freaked. Another reason to not meet Internet “friends” regardless of how humorous they were in their emails.

After a hot shower, I dragged my laptop into the bedroom and got under the covers. Felt inclined to keep a kitchen knife on the nightstand after the documentary, but didn’t. Instead, I busied myself reading sled-dog16’s responses to my questions.

The man was thorough, adding personal anecdotes about his trips to Denali to the factual details. He had supplied me with enough information to write a kick-ass article. Even if Evelynne didn’t pick my proposal, I would have to write the story anyway. The pictures sled-dog16 supplied—none that included himself—called to me, demanded to be made into something for Gaia readers to experience.

I dreamed of Denali all night and woke the next morning to the sound of a black-capped chickadee whistling on the fire escape. When I padded to the window and opened it, the bird hopped over. I kept a jar full of seeds in my bedroom for feathered visitors. The chickadee ate the seeds from my cupped palm and then skittered off. What could I get to eat out of my hand in Denali? Would I be a Snow White there too?

At work, Meg swung by my cube. The bright yellow dress she wore nearly blinded me.

“You ready to swap?” She tapped the file folder she held.

“Sure.” I dug out my proposal and handed it to her. She smelled it, turned it around, pretended to weigh it in her hands.

“Feels like a winner,” she announced as she walked out.

“Yours too,” I called.

She snickered.

Over lunch, Meg slid my proposal toward me. “I love this, Alanna. It could be a commercial for visiting Denali. Where did you get all your info?”

“I have my sources.” I took an enormous bite of my tuna sandwich to avoid speaking any more about the subject. I pointed to Meg’s proposal and finished chewing. “This sounds like impressive shit.”

“It is,” she said, “but the scientist I talked to about the program operated on a level way over my head. I spent most of the night trying to wrap my underdeveloped brain around the information.”

“I’ll bet you could charm him down to your level.”

Meg fluttered her eyelashes, a small upward curl at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks. I think.”

I gestured to the folders. “Nothing left to do now but drop these puppies onto Evelynne’s desk.”

“Yep.” Meg stared at her file folder.

“No gamble, no gain.”

“Yep.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

We sat in silence for a long moment, staring at our proposals and fiddling with things on our lunch trays. Finally, we had to end our lunch and get back to work. Upstairs at my cube, Meg gathered up our proposals.

“I’ll run these over to Becky, and the rest is up to Fate.”

Accepting my brief nod as agreement, Meg turned on her calf-high, brown leather boots and tap-tapped down to Evelynne’s secretary. I peeked from my cube as Meg and Becky conversed. The proposals changed hands, and Becky hugged the file folders to her chest. Too late to turn back now. All I could do was hope I’d win and have a shot at the promotion of a lifetime.

For the record, I’d never won anything.

Chapter Three

I hardly slept the night after I’d handed in my proposal. I kept thinking of things I should have included, different angles, different hooks. The more I dwelled on the proposal, the more I convinced myself I didn’t have a shot in hell at the promotion. Six years at Gaia was nothing. Other writers had put in more time. Their work was edgier, new wave. I wrote about the beauty of nature. I was all poems and pretty pictures. In fact, I should just go ahead and use Snow White as my pen name.

Of course, I was blowing this way out of proportion. My stories did have hard-core facts and were always well researched. Solid writing accompanied the poetry and pretty pictures. Still, the chances of Evelynne picking me were slim. Better to be realistic and prepare for disappointment. Took the sting out. Sometimes.

So when a green sticky note that read, “We need to chat,” adorned my computer screen about a week later, I had trouble swallowing. Meg found me in the beginning stages of an anxiety attack.

“Why is your face so white?” she asked.

I flapped the sticky note at Meg. She walked deeper into my cube and plucked it from my fingers.

“Is this about your proposal?” Her eyebrows angled up as she waved the note at me.

“I don’t know.”

“It can only be about your proposal.” She grabbed my hand, shocking me out of my panic. “C’mon, kid. Go see her. Right now.”

Meg pulled on my arm, rather roughly, until I stumbled out from behind my desk.

“Meg, I—”

“Hush,” she interrupted. “Move.” She pointed toward Evelynne’s office. “And I want to hear everything as soon as you get out of there.”

Meg nudged me forward until my own legs took over the duty of carrying me along. Suddenly the hallway leading to Becky’s desk just outside Evelynne’s office seemed infinitely long. My feet kept moving, but I wasn’t getting any closer.

When I finally found myself staring into the thick lenses of Becky’s eyeglasses, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Becky waited for thirty seconds, letting me mime painfully, until she said, “Go right in, Alanna.”

I nodded and walked stiffly to Evelynne’s door. Next barrier. I stood there for another thirty seconds before Becky appeared beside me.

“Works better this way, dear.” She rapped on the door.

“Come in,” Evelynne called.

“See,” Becky said. “Gets results every time.”

Any other time, Becky’s humor would have been appreciated. Not today. My stomach felt as if I’d swallowed a pail full of rocks. I mechanically closed my fingers around the doorknob.

Inside, Evelynne looked green as usual. This time she had on a sea green pantsuit with a cream sweater underneath. The necklace that hugged her throat appeared to be made from bits of sea glass and silver wire. Though she carried the green obsession a bit too far, she always looked like a magazine cover.

I looked down at my own attire. Khaki pants, blue sweater, brown clogs. Not very creative. Not very “you deserve a promotion” either. Shit.

“Morning, Alanna,” Evelynne said, slithering into the chair behind her desk. “Have a seat.”

I tried to slither into the chair she’d indicated, but my slithering didn’t look anything like her slithering. It was more of a gloppy pouring of burned oatmeal, but I’d tried.

Evelynne opened a file folder on her desk and leveled her gray eyes at me. “This,” she said, waving a hand over the contents of the folder, “is just what I was looking for.”

Say what?

“Your description had me wanting to know more about Denali.” Evelynne paused to look at me. “Your outline is well constructed, tight. Logical. This is the kind of story that will let the reader travel to Denali without leaving the comfort of his or her favorite chair.”

“Thanks.” The word squeaked out.

“You’re one of my top three choices, Alanna. Hirsh and Zemmans are my other two, but they haven’t been brave enough to come see me yet.” At this she smirked and arched an eyebrow. “I know everyone’s afraid to come in here. As it should be. I am the boss after all.”

Funny how she looked completely un-scary to me with laugh lines creasing her eyes and mouth.

“Hirsh and Zemmans proposed local pieces meaning that you, darling, get to go on location.”

Wait. What?

“On location?” I asked, my voice cracking like an adolescent boy’s.

“This piece is screaming for you to go to Denali, Alanna.” She clapped her hands together and rubbed them back and forth. “Don’t you think?”

“I…I…” Couldn’t remember a single word of the English language.

Evelynne laughed. “Take a minute to let it sink in. Then take tonight and tomorrow night to pack. Get your head on straight, and then off you go to write a story that just might change your life.” She laid a plane ticket, a hotel reservation, and a corporate credit card on her desktop.

“You’ll fly into Fairbanks International Airport,” Evelynne said, tapping the plane ticket with her index finger.

“Fairbanks?” I said.

“Fairbanks, yes.”

“Fairbanks, Alaska?”

Evelynne narrowed her eyes. A kid-in-the-principal’s-office feeling washed over me. “Hard to do a story on Denali if you’re not in Alaska, Alanna. Is there a problem with Fairbanks, Alaska?”

Yes. Maybe.

“No. No problem, Evelynne.”

“Good. You pull this off, Alanna, and you’ll make a name for yourself here at Gaia. Hirsh and Zemmans have good ideas, but yours is something special. I can feel it. It’s bigger-stories, bigger-office, bigger-paycheck worthy.”

She was saying all the right things. Things I’d been working for. Things I deserved. I’d paid my dues.

But Fairbanks? Holy shit.

“You get two weeks in Alaska to gather your facts and photos and a week back here to pull it all together.”

She nudged the paperwork toward me. I lifted my hand robotically and took it. Evelynne stood and walked around to my side of her desk. She laid a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped.

“Congratulations, Alanna. This is your chance to go to the top. Win the race.”

Race? Sled dog races?

“Y-yes.” I stood slowly. “Yes. Thank you, Evelynne. It’s a fantastic opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

“That’s why I picked you, Alanna. You never let me down. You’re skilled. Top-notch.” Her smile was warm as she walked me to her office door.

I wobbled out of her office, past Meg’s cube. I didn’t stop even when Meg called out to me. After entering my own cube, I slumped into my seat and stared at the plane ticket atop the pile of paperwork Evelynne had given me.

“Alanna?”

“Huh?” I looked from the plane ticket to Meg’s dark eyes.

“What happened? Oh, my God…” Her voice trailed off as she rushed toward my desk. “You…you didn’t get fired, did you?”

“No.” I managed a strained laugh. “She picked me as one of the three.”

“Hurray!” Meg did a little dance in the middle of my cube. “Jeez, Alanna. You had me worried.”

“Sorry.”

Meg dropped into the chair across from me. She played with the fringe on the hem of her shirt—a funky-looking purple tunic today.

“Do you know who the other two are?” She looked up at me, her brown eyes wide and bottomless.

I nodded, not wanting to tell her she wasn’t one of them. Luckily, Meg understood without me having to say anything.

“Right. Okay. Good.” She straightened in the chair, mentally filing away her disappointment not to ruin my moment. Man, she was the best.

“I’ve got to go there.” I locked my eyes on the ticket.

“To Alaska?” Meg leaned forward and gripped the edge of my desk.

“Uh-huh.”

“Lucky shit. That promotion is so yours, Alanna. Good for you.” She bounded over to my side of the desk, threw her arms around my neck, and squeezed. When I didn’t respond, she drew back and looked at me, an odd expression on her face. “What’s wrong? This is all good news, isn’t it?”

I blinked several times before replying. “Yes, yes. It is good news. I’m shocked, I guess.”

“Get un-shocked, girl. When do you go?” Meg walked to the doorway of my cube.

I picked up the ticket. “Sunday.”

“We’re going to celebrate on Friday night. Just you and me.”

“Okay.” Celebrate. Yeah. That’s what people did when they got big opportunities. They celebrated. That made sense.

“You get to pick where.” Meg began to leave, but tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Smile, Alanna.” She rolled her eyes and left.

Alone in my cube, I stared at my computer until the screen looked fuzzy before my eyes.

Just come. I was going to Alaska. Hot damn.

****

I fumbled through the rest of my day at work, finishing some things, making no headway on others. I slid the Alaska paperwork into my bag, so I didn’t have to think about it yet. Another stop at Rita’s took care of dinner.

When I got home, I worked out to an aerobics DVD and ran on my treadmill. Yeah, more stall tactics to see if I’d eventually wake up from this dream of a day. After a shower I slipped into my pj’s, curled up on the couch, and then flipped on my laptop and the TV at the same time. I nibbled pizza—Rita so knew what she was doing with that dough—and finished the ending for my habitat piece.

I hopped online and browsed a few writing websites I frequented. Then I poked around on the Denali websites I had used to create my proposal. As I looked at the breathtaking pictures of the park again, my pulse quickened. I would have a field day there with my camera.

Chilly in late March/early April, I noted. Quite chilly. I shifted the laptop to the couch cushions and went into the bedroom. I pulled open my closet and fished around until I found a heavy, blue ski jacket. Tucked in the sleeve was a knit hat and thick gloves. Grew up in northern New York, almost on the Canada line. Wasn’t always a city girl. I knew chilly, and skiing was like breathing to me. My father had insisted I learned to ski as soon as I could walk. I was a natural at it as he had been. We had enjoyed many weekends, just the two of us, flying down the mountains, snow churning in waves after us.

I tossed my jacket onto the bed and scouted around for other essentials a trip to Alaska in early spring would require. Fortunately, I found most of what I needed in my dresser drawers. Good thing, because I didn’t have time for shopping. Jeans, sweaters, T-shirts, flannel. Hiking boots, raingear, thermal underwear. The mix of colors and fabrics overwhelmed me.

While I was hunting in my underwear drawer, my fingers fell upon a black lace bra and panty set I had bought to…well, it wasn’t important why I had bought it. It had only ended in another disappointing waste of my time.

I lifted it from the drawer and considered the skimpy pieces.

Sled-dog16 might like such an ensemble.

After placing the set in a pile by itself on my bed, I went back into the living room and woke my laptop. It would only take a moment to look him up as he’d suggested.

Only as long as high-speed Internet took to zip out over the worldwide web and retrieve my requested information.

I-d-i-t-a-r-o-d w-i-n-n-e-r

Just type it and wait. Sled-dog16 would be at my fingertips in a heartbeat. Anything I wanted to know.

All I had to do was hit ENTER.

Chapter Four

I didn’t hit ENTER and, before I knew it, Friday night had arrived. I found myself sitting across from Meg at my kitchen table—she had said I could pick the place for our celebration dinner—eating Szechuan take-out from Jade Dragon.

“Are you all packed?” Meg asked around crab rangoon.

“Uh-huh.”

“No. Wrong answer.” Meg waved a little bag over our meal.

“What’s this?” I took the bag and glanced inside. Tissue paper, lots of tissue paper.

“A little something for the wild. Open it.”

I dug in the bag and extracted a shiny, silver multi-tool. “A Leatherman Wave? Nice one, Meg. Thanks.” I popped over to Meg’s side of the table to give her a hug and returned to my seat.

“No problem, kid. Figured it’d come in handy on your quest.”

“Pluck a splinter, skin an animal, saw a branch.”

“Defend yourself.” Meg shrugged when I looked at her. “You never know. Better to be prepared. It’s the New Yorker in me.”

“Or the Girl Scout.”

“The Girl Scouts don’t give patches or badges for the things I’m good at.” Meg wiggled her eyebrows. “Two whole weeks in one of the most beautiful places in the country.” She shook her head and raised her wine glass. “To Alanna Cormac!”

“Thanks.” I clinked my glass to hers, and we each took a sip. “I wish you could come with me.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. It just dribbled out.

“Of course you do.” Meg’s lip twitched. “Everything’s more fun with me around.” She raised an eyebrow. She had blown up yesterday about not being picked as one of the three, but once she got it out there, she was fine. Her expression now grew serious. “What? Are you nervous?”

“Maybe.” I chewed on my egg roll. “This is huge, Meg. Cover story and photos on freaking Denali. What if—”

“No. Don’t.” Meg shook her head. “Don’t doubt yourself, Alanna. You can do this. Evelynne knows you can do this. The story, the photos, all of it will be prize winning.”

Prize winning. First place. Dog racer. Fairbanks. I couldn’t stop the stream of words linking themselves across my mind. The feel of Meg’s hand over mine snapped me out of it.

“Who am I going to drive crazy for two whole weeks?” she said.

I raised my eyes to meet hers. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. What about that Matt guy?”

“Hmmm…” Meg closed her eyes, licked her lips. “He might be a good diversion. He sure tastes good.”

“Meg!” I threw my napkin at her.

“What? He does.” She shrugged and scooped up fried rice.

Wonder what a sled dog racer tastes like?

No. No, I don’t.

“What’s got your brows furrowed so deep, lady?” Meg took another sip of her wine.

“Huh? Oh, nothing.”

“No. It’s something, and you’re going to tell me.”

“It’s silly.”

“Spit it out.” Her eyes were nearly black in the dim light of my apartment as she narrowed her gaze at me. “C’mon. Out with it. What if your plane crashes, and you never come back. You’ll regret not telling me all your secrets now.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Meg.”

“Terrible but true.”

“Fine.” I put down my fork and clasped my hands in my lap. “I have this…this friend, I guess you’d call him.”

“Him? Oh, really?” Meg smiled from ear to ear. “Go on.”

“If you’re going to be like that, then forget it.” I got up from the dining room table and took my plate to the sink. Meg was behind me in a second.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Please. Tell me.” She nearly begged, and it was pitifully funny.

I drew in a deep breath. “He’s just someone I’ve been exchanging emails with for more than a year now.”

“Oooh, an Internet hottie?”

“Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” Meg scrunched up her shoulders like a child being scolded and slid her plate into the dishwasher. She took her wine glass and eased onto the couch, pointing to the other corner of it. “Sit and tell me the rest and I’ll shut up. I promise.” She held up her right hand, palm out, as if she were taking an oath.

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. I mean, I would tell her. That much was a given. I was fairly surprised I’d managed to keep sled-dog16 a secret from Meg for so long.

I sat across from Meg and tucked my legs underneath me. “When I researched that survival skills story for Gaia last year, I landed on a nature networking site. Interesting stuff. Good information, educated contributors.

“Anyway, I found a forum where I typed in my two cents, and this guy, sled-dog16, replied. He seemed knowledgeable and interested, so our correspondence volleyed back and forth. Now it’s been more than a year, and we’ve been emailing ever since. About global warming, endangered species, writing, cars, log cabins, the meaning of life. Everything.”

I ended my tale and then shrugged. Meg stared at me for several long moments.

“You’ve been hiding an Internet hottie all this time?”

“Meg.” I huffed. “I don’t know if he’s a hottie. He did win the Iditarod this year though.” I had a sense of pride in him for his accomplishment. “His last email invited me to Fairbanks, Alaska. Where he lives.”

“No freaking way.” Meg placed her wine glass on the coffee table and darted her eyes my way.

“Weird, huh?”

“Very weird.” Meg motioned to my laptop perched on the arm of the brown leather recliner across from us. “All you have to do is look him up.”

I followed her gaze but shook my head. “No. I’m not going to meet him, Meg. I don’t even know the guy, and I don’t have the time. It’s silly. I’m going to do the story and come home. It’s that simple.”

“Is it?” Meg raised both of her eyebrows.

“Yes, it is.” I drank the last of my wine and shook my head again. “Besides, he could be a psychopath.”

“They don’t let psychopaths race in the Iditarod,” Meg said.

“That’s what he said.”

“I already like him. He thinks like I do. He couldn’t be all bad.”

“Maybe he’s a fantastic guy, but I’m not about to start something with a guy who lives in Alaska. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s why it makes perfect sense.” Meg scooted over and placed her hand over mine. “Look him up. You deserve some fun, Alanna. Besides, you’re going to need something to keep you warm in Fairbanks.”

****

The Arctic blast that hit my face as I stepped into a cab at Fairbanks International Airport was hardly the welcome I’d envisioned. I looped a scarf around my neck and pulled on my bright blue knit hat as I sat in the back seat, waiting for the driver to load my suitcase. Man, I hated cabs. This one, however, smelled like Christmas tree, and I inhaled deeply.

When the driver slid in behind the wheel, he regarded me in the rearview mirror with two tired, muddy brown eyes.

“Where to?” he said. He yawned as he looked at me.

“Moose Point Resort.”

The driver whistled, perking up a bit. “Wow. Did you win the lottery or something?”

“Ah, no.” I looked at the ID plate on the back of his seat. Number 3427. Cab 71. Nope, it didn’t say anything about his complete lack of tact. “I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?” He had pulled away from the terminal now and was merging with the steady flow of traffic buzzing in front of the airport. Not exactly a New York buzz.

“Magazine business. Doing a story on Denali.” I silently berated myself for succumbing to the driver’s prying.

“Moose Point and Denali.” He whistled again. “You must be talented. You’re in for a helluva time, lady.” He shot me a friendly grin in the rearview, his eyes a bit brighter. “Have you been to Alaska before?”

“No. This is my first time.”

“It’s a short drive to Moose Point, but keep an eye out the windows, and you’ll get a sample of why people love it here even though you can freeze to death getting your mail.” He laughed as he made a right turn.

I took his advice and gazed out the side window. A wide river ran parallel to the roadway as we emerged from downtown Fairbanks. Snowbanks rolled along its edge, and the close-to-setting sun cast sparkling glimmers over the white canvas. My fingers itched for my camera.

“That there is the Chena River. About 100 miles long. King salmon spawn there, and in the summer, a paddle-wheel steamer sails up and down for tourists,” the driver said as he turned onto a narrow driveway.

“It’s lovely.” I craned my neck to look back at the river. I was only allowed a moment, for as soon as the taxi rolled onto the driveway, tall pine trees flanking the path swallowed us whole. We rode like that for a quarter of a mile before getting flushed back out into the dimming sunshine.

“Almost there,” the cab driver said.

The path had gotten a little bumpier and a bit narrower. I held onto the door handle and my backpack, hoping not to get jostled sick. A horrible scraping sounded beneath the cab as if a dragon were clawing its way through the metal.

“Sorry about this. The cab’s shocks are shot. This crap jeep’s seen better days. We have jeeps because they do better in the snow, but someone’s got to keep on top of the shocks.”

I simply nodded. Though I loved my car, I took that puppy to the mechanic for everything. I was only concerned with getting in and driving her. With being in control of my destination.

As we turned the bend in the driveway, my mouth dropped open. Looming magnificently in front of us was the hugest log cabin I’d ever seen. Thick, round logs stacked high created a mountain of a building with several floors and a wraparound porch encircling the base. Wide multi-paned windows were tucked in all over its exterior. More tall pines hugged the back of the building, and a narrow stream, parts frozen over, meandered off to the side.

A laugh from the front seat had me ripping my attention from the incredible view.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” the driver said.

“I saw photos of this resort online, but I had no idea…” My voice trailed off as I turned my attention back to the building.

“You must be an outstanding employee to get sent here on the company dime.” The cab driver raised his eyebrows as he opened his cab door and jumped out. I did the same and met him at the trunk.

“Thanks,” I said as he fished my suitcase out. I pushed money into his gloved hand.

He counted it, a satisfied curl to his lips. “You want me to take it in for you?”

“Thank you, but I can take it from here. You’ve got other people to pick up and carry off.”

“Enjoy your stay. If you need a cab to Denali, call this number.” He held out a card with the taxi service name on it. “Ask for number 3427, and I’ll take you. Wherever. Whenever.”

I took the card. “I appreciate that. Thank you.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him the magazine had organized a car for me while I was in Alaska.

I tossed a wave over my shoulder and turned toward the resort entrance. First step was to get settled. Check out this massive log cabin. Plan my attack on Denali. I didn’t have a ton of time and had to make every minute count. I was on a mission.

A gust of wind whipped through the trees as I climbed the split log steps to the front door. I gathered my coat tighter around my neck. Maybe a couple minutes in a hot shower first wouldn’t hurt my timetable.

Overall, Moose Point was gorgeous. An antique four-posted bed made of walnut filled most of the bedroom. A matching dresser lined one wall. A patchwork quilt that looked handmade covered the bed, along with plump pillows. In one corner, a walnut writing desk sat waiting for me to compose. Framed photographs of deer adorned two of the walls. It was cozy as a log cabin should be, even though it was larger than my entire apartment back home.

After a shower, I wrapped in one of the plush towels and lay on the king-sized bed. I closed my eyes as the faint smell of pine from the live tree in the corner of the room filled my senses.

Forcing myself to not fall asleep, I lugged my body off the bed and padded to one of the wide windows offering a view of the back of the resort. Pine trees, tall and dense, as far as the eye could see stood sentinel behind the building. Clumps of snow hung on the sagging branches, and various tracks, both animal and human, zigzagged across the ground. I was a long way from the crowded, noisy streets of New York.

My stomach growled loudly in the silence. Time to get food in me. After I dressed, I went to the front desk of the resort and craned my neck to look at the monstrous man seated behind it.

“Hi.” My voice echoed in the quiet of the lobby.

The beast behind the desk rolled a pair of dark, uninterested eyes my way. He took his time folding the newspaper he was reading before getting up. His nametag simply said “Bear,” and that he was. Thick black suspenders looped over his red and black flannel shirt, holding a pair of dark blue jeans in place around his stout waist.

“Do you know which car out there is for Alanna Cormac?” I asked.

“Yep.” He looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“Could you tell me which one it is? Please.” Don’t provoke Bear seemed like a sensible plan.

“You Alanna Cormac?” He leaned on his elbows on the desk between us. His massive face was inches from mine, and I swallowed loudly.

“Uh-huh.”

“In that case, it’s the gray Explorer parked in the first spot out front.” He reached under the desk and produced a pair of keys, which he dangled in front of my face.

Slowly, I raised my hand, and Bear dropped the keys onto my palm. “Thanks,” I managed. A bright white smile creased Bear’s dark face, and for the first time the intensity of his eyes softened. Okay, maybe softened wasn’t the right word, but he definitely looked less scary.

“I see why they call you Bear.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything, Alanna Cormac.” His joviality faded for a moment. “You should see me if someone steals my lunch.”

As he rocked back on his heels, a poster on the wall behind him snagged my attention. Actually, the word Iditarod caught my attention first, sending a little ripple of anticipation through me. On the poster, a man in a dark green snowsuit knelt beside a beautiful Siberian husky. Its bright blue eyes arrowed right through me, sharp and alert. The only thing more beautiful than the dog was the man. His eyes matched the color of his snowsuit, a rich hunter green. Full lips were framed in the hint of a beard, all coppery-colored in the sunlight. At the corner of the poster over a white swath of snow, a scratchy signature read “Dale Ramsden.”

“One of our finest right there,” Bear said. His voice snapped me out of my trance.

“That’s him? The Iditarod winner?” Suddenly the lobby was boiling. I unzipped my jacket, pulled off my hat.

“Yep.” Bear’s laugh made me look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “You’re just getting drool all over my front desk. That’s all.”

An instant flush burned my cheeks, and I unraveled my scarf. “I’m not drooling.” Okay, maybe I was.

“Whatever you say. If you want to see him in person, head over to Ram’s Den. Kid’s father owns it. Best damn chicken wings in town, probably in the whole state. Anyway, Dale is always in there.”

I was hungry. Was the reason I’d come down to the front desk in the first place. Getting chicken wings was just good sense at this point. No harm in that. A gal needed to eat while she was in Alaska. She didn’t exactly need to meet sexy Iditarod winners, but maybe just a glimpse would be interesting. Meg said I deserved some fun. She could be right.

“Do you have—”

“Directions to Ram’s Den?” Bear finished. “Head down the drive, take a left, and follow Main Street. Ram’s Den is about a quarter mile down on your left.”

I nodded my thanks and turned toward the front doors of the resort.

“Bon appetit,” Bear called after me.

Chapter Five

As I walked toward the Explorer, I inhaled deeply. Amazing how fresh Alaskan air invigorated my senses, my entire body. Take a deep breath like that in NYC, and you’re liable to inhale someone’s cigarette smoke, choke, and die right on the sidewalk.

I was in a completely different universe, and the pull toward those woods was undeniable. Toward those serene trees, standing in silent watch. I could so get used to assignments like this.

Shaking my head slightly, I climbed into the SUV and backed out. My ride down the driveway was significantly less bumpy than the cab ride had been, and I now understood the benefit of new shocks. I emerged onto Main Street and was glad I’d asked Bear for directions, because everything looked foreign in the darkness. Traffic was light, and my fingers loosened on the steering wheel. I relaxed into the seat, enjoying the drive, and found myself in front of a rustic looking tavern in no time.

“Ram’s Den,” I said aloud, reading the sign above the door. “We’ll see how good these chicken wings are.”

I parked, jumped from the car, and walked up the stone pathway to the front doors. I pulled my ski jacket tighter as a gust of wind punched me. I halted for a moment at the doors and admired the intricate designs carved into the mahogany. A ram’s head with thick, spiraling horns caught my attention. Pockets of ice glistened in the ridges of the horns, and I traced a finger into the carving, marveling at the expertise. Whoever had done the woodwork certainly had an eye for it.

Another loud plea from my stomach had me pressing my gloved hand against the door until it opened. A warm gush of wood-burning scented air welcomed me, and I thawed a bit. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the lighting, which was several levels brighter than the dim night outside. A long wooden bar, also covered in nature-inspired carvings, spanned the wall to my right, while booths and tables dotted the rest of the room. A large TV displayed a poker competition above the bar, and the muted conversations of several diners in the booths mingled with the TV announcer’s voice.

I wandered deeper into the tavern—maybe looking for Mr. Iditarod, maybe not—and took a seat at the empty bar. No need to hog a booth or table for a party of one. I was used to that. As I sat, an older gentleman wiped his way toward me. He flung a washcloth to the counter behind him and grinned. Skin crinkled at the corners of his pale blue eyes.

“Hiya! You’re pretty.”

I laughed out loud. “That was direct.”

“When you’re my age, there’s no sense in being indirect, doll. I haven’t got the time to waste.”

His smile was contagious, and I beamed at him.

“Dale Ramsden, Sr.” He extended his hand. “People just call me Ram, though.”

Father of Mr. Iditarod. Interesting. “This would be your den then?” I shook his hand. His grip was solid and…comforting.

“Yep. Been here about thirty years now. Probably die here.” His laugh washed over me, seeped through the hard New York shell somehow. He reminded me of my father.

“What’s your name, love? I’m completely content to call you honey, sweetheart, or gorgeous, but modern women generally don’t like that.”

“Alanna Cormac.”

“Alanna,” he whispered. “A name fit for a goddess.” His eyes lit up under graying brows.

“You’re pretty smooth, Ram.” Who was I kidding? I was eating this guy up. He was too adorable not to instantly love.

“Lots of practice, m’lady. Lots of practice.” He pulled a wine glass from the bar behind him and poured red wine into it. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

He placed the glass in front of me, and I looked at it for several moments.

“How did you know I’d order red wine?”

Again, his eyes twinkled. “Also lots of practice. Let’s see.” He drummed his long fingers on the bar. “You’re from a big city. You’ve never been to Alaska before. You’re here on business but are not sure you can pull off whatever you’re supposed to do.” He squinted his eyes as if he were concentrating very hard. “You also want to sample my chicken wings.” He stepped away from the bar, leaned on the wall behind him, and folded his arms across his chest.

“You’re pretty impressed with yourself, aren’t you?” I sipped my wine, relishing the rich, fruity flavor—exactly how I liked my wine.

“How’d I do?”

“Hit the nail on the head,” I said, and Ram pumped his fist in the air in victory. “You left out that I work for a nature magazine and will be headed to Denali later in the week. Also, I’ll be ordering dessert after the chicken wings.”

“Ah, a gal with an appetite.” Ram sighed as he took my hand in his. “Marry me, Alanna.”

I giggled like a schoolgirl and fluttered my lashes foolishly. What in the hell was I doing? Another older man emerged from what I assumed to be the kitchen and rolled his eyes.

“Proposed to another one, didn’t you, Ram?”

“Yep. And I think this one might say yes.” Ram winked at me. “This is my brother, Jerry. Jerry, Alanna Cormac. Or the future Mrs. Dale Ramsden, as I like to refer to her.”

“You’re going to need a bigger house for all those future Mrs. Dale Ramsdens, brother.” Jerry shook my hand. He looked like Ram but skinnier and slightly older.

“Just like my jealous brother to try to sabotage my chances with you,” Ram said, looking at me with raised eyebrows.

“Time is sabotaging your chances with her, Ram. You’re too old.” Jerry punched his brother in the arm. A mock frown barely made its way across his face, and he shrugged.

“Too bad, Alanna. I guess we’ll just have to be friends.” Ram kissed the back of my hand.

“I’d love to be friends, Ram, but I’m only here for two weeks. I hope that’s okay.”

Ram held his hand over his heart. “Shall have to be enough.”

“Enough with the dramatics,” Jerry said. “Get the girl some chicken wings. She’s starving.”

“Yes, indeed. Chicken wings coming right up.” Ram disappeared into the kitchen.

“He didn’t bother you, did he?” Jerry asked.

“Not at all. He’s charming.” I had shed my coat during Ram’s silliness, and a toasty warmth—a long-forgotten warmth—either from the wine or Ram’s attention, filled me.

“Charming,” Jerry mumbled as he, too, vanished into the kitchen.

I swiveled on the bar stool to get another look at the tavern while I waited. No sign of sled racing stud, which was fine. I was here for a meal, not a man. A family of four, a man and woman with two small boys, took up a table in the center of the room. I chuckled to myself as the mother made airplane noises and arrowed a glob of mashed potatoes toward the boy beside her. He squirmed in his seat, avoiding her assault.

In a booth, along the far wall, two teens studied each other over a heaping plate of nachos. The boy’s feet were wrapped around the girl’s under the table. Their happiness lit up the tavern. Young love. Hope it lasted for them.

In the booth behind the teens, three elderly women with puffy, round bubbles of white hair chatted loudly while they passed craft magazines around to one another over coffee. I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be what Meg and I did to entertain ourselves when we were that age.

A man and a little girl occupied another booth by the front window of the tavern. The little girl, two long braids weaving down either side of her head, knelt and pressed her palms against the window. When her father told her to sit and finish her meal, two small, greasy handprints dotted the glass. The man sighed and rubbed at the prints with his napkin.

My gaze roamed to the last booth in the back corner of the bar. The person seated there faced away from me. The top of a dark baseball cap showed while a hand drummed fingers on a tall beer. A pad and a pen were next to the beer.

Another writer, perhaps? I was about to slide off the stool and investigate further when Ram’s voice had me spinning my seat around to face him.

“All righty. I hope these pass the test. You came all the way from…” He looked at me expectantly while he balanced the plate of wings in his hands.

“New York.”

He nodded. “You came all the way from New York to try these wings, and here they are. Ta-da!” Ram proudly set the platter in front of me. Jerry appeared behind him with a salad and a basket of fries.

“These smell wonderful.” I unfolded my napkin and placed it on my lap.

“Work of art there, Alanna.” Ram topped off my wine glass.

Both he and Jerry lingered around the bar, waiting for me to eat. I hesitated under their scrutiny, but was way too starved to worry about it. Gingerly, I picked up one of the wings. Extra barbecue sauce dripped back onto the plate. I took my first bite, and my taste buds applauded. Smoked hickory flavor mixed with something a little citrusy, and the meat released its hold on the bone with little effort. I finished off an entire wing before I could speak.

“Okay, Ram.” I wiped my fingers on the napkin. “These are worth the long trip from New York.”

Ram let out a roar of laughter.

“Another satisfied customer,” Jerry said as he came around the bar to tend to the other diners.

“We aim to please,” Ram said.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled as I dove into another wing. Ram sat on a stool on his side of the bar and poured himself a soda.

“So what’s the name of the magazine you work for?” he asked.

“Gaia.” I was in chicken-wing heaven. No question about it. Ram had a gift.

“How long have you been working for Gaia?”

“Six years.” I licked sauce from my index finger, completely forgetting I was in public.

“Making a name for yourself with this Denali piece?”

“I’m going to try.” I stopped eating for a moment and met Ram’s eyes.

“Determined, aren’t ya?”

“Got to be. I ain’t getting any younger, Ram.”

“None of us are.” He took a long swig of his soda and when his eyes settled back on me, he appeared to be…pondering. “You got somebody back home?”

I shook my head.

“What a shame for the New York fellows. None of them suit you?”

I dabbed a fry into a small pool of leftover barbecue sauce and swirled it around my plate. A slow burn ignited in my chest. How strange to want to talk about my love life—or lack thereof—with this complete stranger over chicken wings. My eyes flitted around the tavern, looking for what exactly I don’t know.

“Some of them suited me…for a little while anyway,” I said, “but it always works out the same way. I’m a loner, I guess. My work is my life. I don’t have time for anything else.”

Ram’s facial expression changed. The creases around his eyes disappeared as he closed his hand over mine.

“You just haven’t found someone you want to make time for,” Ram said softly. He pointed to a picture encircled by a wooden frame hanging on the wall behind him. An older woman with a thick mane of red-brown hair and piercing green eyes smiled back at me. “My Diana, God rest her, died eight years ago. She was worth every moment I spent with her.”

He shook his head again and slid from the stool. Walking around to my side, he threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I know we just met and all, but you look like you need a hug.”

I couldn’t stop the tear that trickled down my cheek. Ram reached over the bar and grabbed extra napkins. He handed them to me, and I blotted my eyes. How embarrassing, crying like that in front of someone I’d just met. And over the fact that I was lonely no less. Stupid.

“Sorry. I don’t know what happened here,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ram scooted back around the bar. “Alaska’s not all ice and wind. Some of it’s warm and fuzzy.” He grabbed his washcloth and wiped the counter absently. He drew in a deep breath and said, “How about that dessert?”

I nodded. “That would be great.”

He collected my empty plate. “Do you want to see a dessert menu?”

“No. I’ll bet you can pick something I’ll like,” I said, and his face turned jovial again.

“Be right back.” He bounded into the kitchen.

I composed myself, shaking my head at my blubbering. Twenty minutes in this bar, and I was ungluing at the seams. I’d finish my dessert and get the hell out before I told Ram my entire life story over coffee.

I swiveled again to observe behind me. The same crowd was still assembled, finishing their meals and visits. A few newcomers had filtered in—again none of them sled-dog16. I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed. My emotions were a jumbled mess at the moment. I didn’t like that. I needed Meg.

The baseball cap in the corner was gone, along with his pad and pencil. Probably scooted out when I was hugging the freaking bartender.

A surge of cold air made me turn toward the front door. The sound of boots stomping snow from their heels had me waiting to see who the next visitor was in this tavern of holy chicken wings and empathetic hugs. When he stepped from the shadows, something fluttered deep inside me.

Tall. A thick crop of chestnut hair. Solid, athletic build expertly filling a pair of blue jeans and a green ski jacket. He appeared to be talking to someone behind him, but when he walked into the tavern, he was alone. The perfect green eyes that connected with mine made my throat go dry, my heart drum in my chest.

Oh, Goddess. It. Was. Him. He looked even better than his picture on the poster at Moose Point.

The easy smile that slid across his face was inviting, and I automatically returned the gesture, though the voice inside my head ordered me to run. He strolled toward me and sat on the stool beside me.

“Hi,” he said. I almost couldn’t hear him over my pulse roaring in my ears.

“Hi.” I swiveled my own stool to face him. Bold move. For me.

“How were the chicken wings?” The shadow of a beard played along the smooth skin of his jaw. My gaze wandered to his lips.

“Who says I had chicken wings?” I usually didn’t say two words to men, and here I was flirting with a superb specimen. With sled-dog16! The green of his eyes—real jade green—had me transfixed.

“I’ve never seen you in here before.” He tapped his fingers on the edge of the bar. “Visitors usually come for the wings. After a couple of visits, people figure out that everything coming from the kitchen here is delicious, so they explore the entire menu.”

“Everything here tastes as good as those chicken wings?” Even you? He looked as if he could be quite tasty.

“Ram’s a kitchen magician. He can barbecue a tire and make it taste like heaven.” A woodsy smell floated around him as he took off his coat. I inhaled deeply, suddenly contented.

“I assume you’re a regular?” I coiled a strand of hair around my fingers as I’d seen Meg do when she was out for the kill. What was I doing?

He laughed—a husky, pleasant sound—and said, “Yeah, I’m—”

“One slice of chocolate cake coming up,” Ram’s booming voice interrupted.

We both turned to face the opening kitchen door.

My mouth watered at the dessert Ram carried. Dark chocolate frosting glistened on a hunk of cake. Ram had to be psychic. That cake was exactly what I would have picked from the menu.

When Ram turned toward us, his face beamed more brightly as he looked at the man beside me.

“Well, well,” he roared. “The celebrity has come to grace us with his magnificence.”

“Okay, okay,” Internet hottie said. “Take it down a notch, will ya, Dad?” He turned to me. “Please excuse my father.”

Now that I looked at the two of them and back at the picture of Ram’s wife, I saw the family resemblance. Especially in the smiles.

“A father can’t help but be proud. Don’t ruin my fun, boy.” Ram puffed out his chest as he placed the cake in front of me. He gestured his hand toward the man, whose cheeks had pinked slightly, making him look boyishly handsome. “Alanna Cormac, meet Dale Ramsden, Junior, my son.”

I shook hands with the man, a warmth flowing from his hand to mine. I held on for a few moments, savoring the feel of his rough fingers against my smooth ones. A brace covered a good portion of his right wrist.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, even though we had technically already met electronically. No need for him to know that. I gestured to his wrist. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“It’s just a sprain.” Dale shrugged one shoulder as he released my hand.

“Just a sprain?” Ram shouted, as I shoveled a piece of cake into my mouth. “The boy sprained it winning the Iditarod.”

“No kidding?” I managed. “The Iditarod. Hear that’s the toughest race on Earth.”

Again, Dale shrugged, looking a little embarrassed by the attention. Shit, he was adorable. Now that I had a face—a gorgeous one—and a voice to put with the emails, I was enthralled by the total package.

I took another bite of cake. Damn, it tasted like no other cake I’d eaten. Rich, sweet, a dream. Not unlike the man sitting beside me.

“What do you do?” Dale asked, no doubt trying to get the focus off him.

My mind flicked through a mental file cabinet of things I could tell him, but before I could finish chewing my cake and choose one, Ram answered.

“She writes for Gaia.”

Dale’s eyes popped open, and cake spewed from my mouth as I choked on bits of chocolate. I had sucked in a huge breath, inhaling cake along the way, at the mention of Gaia. Wasn’t ready for that cat to come out of the bag yet. Wasn’t sure I was going to let it out of the bag at all actually. No choice now.

I hacked as I struggled for air. Had to look disgusting. Face red, neck veins bulging, eyes tearing, chocolate-coated teeth…oh, Goddess.

I dared to shoot a watery glance at Dale. Shit, he was good-looking, and now he knew who I was.

“Dad,” Dale got up from his stool. “Get her water.”

Ram sprang into action, filling a tall glass with water and handing it to Dale.

“Here. Try this.” Dale passed the glass to me. I took it, but considered choking to death a better alternative than the humiliation that was certain to follow. Dale placed his hand on my back and rubbed, trying to comfort. His touch sent a shockwave through my body, and more ragged coughing exploded from my chest.

“Alanna,” Ram said. “Look at me.”

I raised tear-filled eyes and connected with Ram’s pale blue ones. “In and out. Nice and slow. Get control. You can do it. I won’t have anyone as pretty as you choking on my chocolate cake.”

I couldn’t help laughing, which only added to my strained panting. I managed to slip in a swig of water and slow my breathing a bit. My coughing subsided, and I patted the sweat off my forehead with the extra napkins Ram had plopped in front of me.

“You okay?” Ram’s voice reflected both concern and humor.

I nodded. Dale sat beside me again, his hand still lingering on my back. I didn’t mind it there.

Ram pointed to Dale. “Thought he was going to have to do CPR on ya.”

“Might still have to.” Dale smirked. “Can’t have you dying here. Be bad for Dad’s business, Gaia-girl706.”

Throw my coat on and leave. That’s what I should have done. My body, however, refused to move. If I moved, Dale would take his hand away. If Dale took his hand away, I might not like that. Besides, his damn eyes were so captivating—everything about him was so captivating—that I didn’t want to leave. Couldn’t leave.

“Don’t you get Gaia, Dale?” Ram said.

“Yeah.” Dale grinned. “And I think they just sent me a special gift for renewing my subscription.”

Chapter Six

Dale’s eyes flickered with amusement as he studied me. I tried to think of something to say—anything to say—but my mind was lost, and my throat was scratchy.

“Gaia-girl706,” he said again, letting his hand slip from my back. He folded his arms across his chest, the grin on his lips widening with each passing moment.

I cleared my throat and rasped, “Hi, Sled-dog16.”

“You came.” He whispered the words and locked his eyes on mine. All my senses were tuned to him. I noticed every detail of his face. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes, like Ram’s. The dark freckle high on his left cheek. The incredibly white, straight teeth flashing at me. Logical thought had no chance whatsoever.

“You two know each other?” Ram’s voice broke the spell, and we both turned toward him as if we’d just realized he was standing there.

“Sort of.” I glanced back at Dale. “Look, I…my boss picked my Denali story, the one you helped with.” I poked him in the chest and liked the hard muscles I found there. “She wanted me to come here to do the story justice. I agree it all seems coincidental, but it’s the truth.” I held out my hands innocently.

“I don’t care how you got here. I’m just glad you are.” Dale’s gaze softened a bit as he glanced down at himself. “See, I’m not a serial killer.”

“A serial killer,” Ram interrupted. “Why would she think you were a serial killer?” His brows furrowed so deeply I thought they were going to touch his nose. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Dale motioned to his father with his hand. “The defense rests.”

Laughing, I nodded. “Okay, I’ll concede you don’t appear to be a serial killer, but most serial killers are experts at hiding their madness.” I picked up my fork and attempted another mouthful of the chocolate cake. Almost choking to death was not going to interfere with an exceptional dessert.

“Maybe,” I said, savoring the flavor of a chocolate heaven, “you two are in this together. Maybe he distracts me with this mind-altering cake here, and then you slip in for the kill.” I pointed my fork between Ram and Dale.

“I would never use my cake for ill purposes,” Ram said. “Never. Besides, you’re too pretty to kill.”

What a sweetheart!

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night, right here, and I’ll prove to you I’m harmless,” Dale said.

I stopped mid-chew and contemplated the offer. No question I was attracted to Dale. If he was half as charming as his father—half as stimulating as his emails suggested—he’d be wonderful to have dinner with. Still, I hadn’t dated anyone seriously in a long time. I just wasn’t any good at it. Besides, I was only in Alaska for two weeks.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do, and I’m not here long. I wouldn’t want to—”

“Just dinner, Gaia-girl,” Dale cut in. “You don’t have to let me sweep you off your feet or anything.”

“He probably should though,” Ram mumbled.

“Dad.” A look passed between father and son.

Huffing out a breath, Ram wiped the bar as he scuttled along to the other end of it. He sparked a conversation with an older gentleman seated there.

“What do you say, Alanna?” Dale’s eyes searched my face. “C’mon. It’s as if we know each other already, isn’t it? All those emails.”

“Yeah, but…” I hesitated long enough for my subconscious mind to talk me into having dinner with him. Funny how my subconscious voice sounded like Meg’s. “Okay. Dinner, right here.”

Dale’s eyebrows arched in victory. “Maybe it’ll be over there.” He pointed to a booth in the corner of the tavern.

“Fine.”

“6:00?”

“Also fine. I’ll meet you here. I’ve got to spend time in the library tomorrow, gathering facts and such for my article.”

“Your article, right,” Dale said.

“I really have an article, Dale. You answered all those questions for it.” I finished the last bite of cake. “I did not look you up on the Internet as you suggested, and I am not here because you said to just come. I’m here on business only.”

“Whatever you say, Gaia-girl.” He attempted a serious face but wasn’t successful.

I was about to protest, but Jerry came from the kitchen toting a brown bag. “Here you go, Dale.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jerry.” Dale shrugged back into his coat as Jerry placed the bag on the bar.

“Didn’t bring any of the kids with you tonight?” Jerry craned his head to look over the bar.

Kids. No. He couldn’t have any kids. Could he? He never mentioned kids in his emails. So what if he did. What did I care?

“Gypsy’s here.” Dale snapped his fingers and patted his thigh. A well-shaped thigh encased in dark denim. Within seconds, the wolf-like dog from the poster trotted from the alcove by the front door. She was mostly black, with splotches of white around the neck and face. Her muzzle was black, and bright blue eyes looked at me as she sat on her haunches right beside Dale. She didn’t make a sound. Didn’t growl at me. Didn’t whimper at what might be in the bag Dale held.

“Wow. She’s wonderful,” I said.

“She’s a champ.” Dale leaned down and scratched between the dog’s ears. The blue eyes disappeared for a moment as Gypsy enjoyed the massage. She nuzzled Dale’s leg with her nose and then looked at me.

“I think she’s telling me you belong to her.”

“Gypsy and I have spent many a Friday night alone together. Not to mention freezing our asses off out on the trails together,” Dale joked. “She’s entitled to be a little possessive.”

I left money on the bar and put on my coat. Ram worked his way back over to us. “You guys leaving?” He looked downright sad about the idea.

“I’ve got to get started on my article.”

“She’ll be back tomorrow night though,” Dale added. “To see me.”

Ram turned his lips down into a sad face. “And I thought you were going to marry me for my chicken wings, Alanna.”

“I still might. Depends on what else you’ve got hiding in that kitchen.”

“I’ve got me plenty of tricks.” Ram’s face brightened. “I’ll whip up something special for you two tomorrow.” He extended his hand over the bar to me. I reached across to take it, and Ram brought my hand to his lips. “Fair Alanna, ever so lovely to meet you this evening.”

“Likewise. You made me feel right at home, Ram. Plus, you didn’t let me choke on cake.”

Ram roared with laughter, and, when I looked at Dale, he was chuckling too. Gypsy studied me with steel blue eyes, sizing me up, but then, on Dale’s command, the dog lifted a paw and waved.

“Walk you out?” Dale asked.

“Sure. Bye, Ram. Thanks again.”

“Bye. See you both tomorrow.” He emphasized the word both as if he were secretly congratulating his son on his fresh catch.

Saw right through him.

I zipped my coat, pulled on my hat, and stuffed my hands into my gloves. The prospect of going outside was not one I looked forward to. I thought of the weather in New York right now and missed home. Then I looked at the way Dale’s jeans fit from behind. Perhaps I wasn’t that homesick. Hadn’t seen a view like that in New York for a while. I’m sure they were there. I just hadn’t been looking.

Dale held the door open, and Gypsy trotted out before me. I followed behind the dog, the wind whipping me as I arrived at the front step. I paused for a moment, all my muscles tightening against the cold.

“What’s the matter, city girl? Too icy for ya?” Dale’s warm breath at my ear sent a jolt through me. His close proximity did more to heat me than all my layers of clothing.

“No, Mr. Iditarod. I merely haven’t adjusted yet.”

“We’ll make an Alaskan out of you in no time.”

“You only have two weeks.” Why did that seem too short now?

“No problem.” Dale stopped at a shiny, black pick-up truck parked next to my rented Explorer. He opened the passenger side door and pointed to the seat. In one smooth movement, Gypsy jumped into the cab.

“She always that cooperative?” I asked, admiring the dog’s discipline.

“Yep. Gypsy’s a good girl.” Dale’s voice lowered as he vigorously rubbed under the dog’s chin. “She’s my lead dog. She listens to me, and the other dogs listen to her.”

Impressive. Both dog and man. Dale closed the truck door and leaned against the bed to face me.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing,” I said, embarrassed that he caught me examining him. Checking him out if we were going to get technical. “Am I what you pictured?”

“Exactly.” He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets.

“Really?”

“Really. The hair, the eyes, the body.” He let his eyes sweep over me. Normally I would have been disgusted by such a move, but for some reason I didn’t mind him doing it. “What about me?”

I turned to unlock my car door. I opened it and climbed inside. “I’d say I’ve seen better, but I’d be lying. See you tomorrow, Dale Ramsden, Junior.”

I closed my door and started the Explorer. After giving Dale a little wave, I backed out of the parking space and turned onto Main Street. In my rearview, Dale watched me.

Damn, he had a good face.

****

Finding the library was easy thanks to Bear’s expert directions. What the man lacked in social skills, he made up for in giving accurate coordinates.

“Out the drive. Bang a right. About six miles down, take a left. Library’s the brick building.” When Bear finished speaking, he simply turned his back to me and resumed reading his newspaper. The man seemed both out of place and perfect for the Moose Point Resort. He wasn’t welcoming, as a hotel employee should be, but his laid back, flannel-shirt personality fit the look of the oversized log cabin. Still kind of scared me though.

“Thanks.”

Bear simply nodded as he shuffled his newspaper to another section. I stuffed my laptop into my bag with my notebook and hauled the bag onto my shoulder. Bundled again into my winter attire, I braced myself for the cold slap of air that waited for me on the other side of the door. My hiking boots crunched over the sanded pathway as I jogged to the car in the dark. Couldn’t be doing this article in the summer when the sun doesn’t set until ten, eleven o’clock at night. No. I get sent during the tail end of winter.

I hopped into the car, drove down the driveway, and caught myself looking to the left. Toward Ram’s Den. After a restless night’s sleep, thinking of Dale mostly, I hoped the day would pass quickly. Didn’t want to rush through my time in Alaska, but I had to admit I did want to see Dale again. Charged with the image of his face in my memory, I vowed to make the day productive so I wouldn’t feel guilty taking some hours off tonight to…play.

I arrived in front of the library, which was right where Bear said it would be. As I walked to the front door, I got that tingle I always got when I was about to encounter stacks of books. Books on any topic I wanted. The possibilities were endless. If I didn’t focus, I could be led off track in a library. I once wasted an entire afternoon reading about Sacagawea simply because I’d passed a book on display about her. Had to stay up all night to finish my article that night, but it was worth it. I can answer all the Sacagawea questions on Jeopardy now.

As soon as I walked into the library, an older woman greeted me. Her silver hair was pulled back and coiled into a complicated looking knot at the back of her head. She had a pencil stuffed into the knot. She whipped it out like a samurai, scratched something on a piece of paper, and then sheathed it in her coif. All that without ever looking away from me.

“Hello, dear. What can I help you find?” Her blue eyes were so bright and friendly, so welcoming.

“I’m writing an article on Denali and the wildlife there. Looking to do a little research before I visit the park.” I set my bag on the circulation desk and took a quick look around. I appeared to be the only visitor. The local library I frequented in New York was usually louder inside than Times Square on New Year’s Eve. In this library, I could hear the librarian’s heartbeat.

“Oh, you’re going to love Denali. It’s tough in the winter, but still breathtaking.” She beamed from ear to ear with pride in her homeland. “Where are you from, dear?”

“New York.”

The librarian put on a pair of reading glasses, and her fingers flew over the keyboard on a computer beside her.

“I’m Alanna Cormac.”

“Gwen Breck. Give me a minute.” She raised her head to look through the narrow lenses of the glasses and finished whatever she had been working on before I came in. “Okay, the Denali books are this way.”

She walked around to my side of the circulation desk and gestured with her finger for me to follow her. I grabbed my bag and trailed after her. In the center of the library, a room sported a huge stone fireplace. It stopped me in my tracks.

“Nice one, isn’t it?” Gwen backtracked to stand beside me. “Do you plan to be here long?”

“Most of the day.”

“I’ll get Davey to fire it up then.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to be any trouble.” My eyes lingered on that fireplace for a few more seconds, though.

“It won’t be any trouble, Alanna,” Gwen said. “Davey’s probably asleep in the medieval books section. Slow day today, and he always naps in the medieval books section. He will start a fire for you.” She arched her brows as if she were going to enjoy making Davey start a fire for me.

“Here we are. Denali in books.” Gwen fanned her hands out to a large section of books. “They pale in comparison to the real thing, though.”

“I’ll bet.” I wandered toward the shelves and ran my fingers along the bindings. “Thanks for your help.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Take what you want and go to the center room to work. Would you like tea?”

“As long as it isn’t any trouble.” I grinned.

“No trouble at all.” Gwen shuffled away and a few moments later, an overhead announcement sounded. “Davey to circulation. Davey to circulation.”

Kneeling beside the first shelf in the Denali section, I read the titles and selected a few photo journals on the park, several on Mount McKinley, and three others on the wildlife of Denali. Many other books called to me, but my arms were already filled.

Balancing the books and toting my bag, I made my way back to the fireplace room where a man who looked to be about Gwen’s age squatted by the hearthstone. As he piled fresh wood into the fireplace, he whistled a light, upbeat tune. He struck a match, and the kindling he had layered beneath the logs flared. Taking a step back, the man admired his work. When a book dropped from my arms, he whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hi there,” he said with the same cheeriness Gwen had.

“Hi.” I bent awkwardly to pick up the book.

“Let me get that.” The man ambled over to me and swiped the book off the ground. He set it on a table next to a deep, leather upholstered chair facing the fireplace.

“Thanks. Hope you weren’t disturbed lighting that fire.”

“Naw,” the man said. “Davey.” He extended his hand to me, and I dumped the rest of the books on the table.

“Alanna.”

“If I know my wife, she said I was sleeping in the medieval section, which I wasn’t.” He rocked back on the heels of his boots.

“I didn’t believe it for a moment.” I walked toward the warmth of the fire. By this time, a large blaze snapped and popped almost musically.

“I only sleep in the medieval section on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Laughter erupted from me. Davey joined in and causally poked at the fire. “Dare I ask where you sleep on the other days?”

“Wednesdays and Fridays are in the woodworking section. Saturdays are in the Children’s Room where they have the good cartoon books. Sundays, I nap at home, because the library’s closed and Mondays, today, I snooze amongst accounting textbooks.”

“Accounting textbooks? That’ll surely put you to sleep.”

“Nearly killed me.” Davey rolled his brown eyes. “Is this fire okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Good luck with your research. I’ll come by in a little while to check on the fire.”

Davey saluted me and slipped out of the room. I sank into the leather chair and dug out my laptop. As it powered up, I flipped through the first book in my pile. The photos drew me in right away. Moose, looking majestic with a picturesque mountain background, stared from the page. The gentle breeze swaying the tall grasses surrounding the moose nearly ruffled my own hair.

“Here’s your tea, dear.” I jumped at the sound of Gwen’s voice behind me. “I’m sorry, Alanna. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I guess this picture hypnotized me or something.”

“Oh, Denali will do that to ya. It’s got a magic all its own. It’s where Mother Nature herself calls home. That’s what I think anyway.” Gwen set down a mug. A husky stared at me from one side of the mug, the words “Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race” emblazoned across the other side.

Raising an eyebrow at Gwen, I said, “You a fan?”

Gwen’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Never miss it. I’ve seen every Iditarod race since I was five years old.”

“What do you know of this year’s winner?” Slippery, I know, to ask this poor woman for information on Dale, but he could still be a serial killer. I slid my hand into my jeans’ pocket and fingered the multi-tool Meg had made me promise to carry at all times while in Alaska.

“Dale Junior deserved every bit of his win this year. That boy knows how to work hard, and you should see how he takes care of those dogs of his. He’ll make some woman happy if he takes care of her like he does those dogs. Trouble is, he never dates.”

“Never?” Interesting. I’d think someone as smooth as he was in the tavern last night would have dates all the time.

“Nope. He pretty much keeps to himself, training the dogs and such. He’s so focused. If he didn’t work at his father’s place between training, we’d probably never see him in town. Dale sometimes stops in here on the way to the bar to pick up books.” She leaned closer as if telling me a secret. “I always let him keep the books longer than the other patrons. He likes to take his time reading.”

“I see.”

Gwen was doing wonders sketching in the gray areas for me.

“So, he’s the quiet type.”

“The quiet, gorgeous type.” Gwen giggled.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You’ve seen him?”

“Last night I had dinner at Ram’s Den. After Ram thoroughly entertained me, Dale came in and dazzled me as well.”

“I’ll bet he was just as dazzled, dear.” Gwen rested her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

I studied the mug and drew in a deep breath, shaking my head. I took a sip of the tea and let the cinnamon-apple flavor relax me. I returned my attention to the book in my lap. Page after page brought the beauty of Denali to life. As I made my way through the other books, I furiously scribbled notes in my pad, consulted my outline, and composed a few paragraphs for the article. I went back to the shelves several times and lost myself in the facts and photos of magnificent Alaska.

After two hours of steady reading and notetaking, I took a break and plugged my laptop into the library’s Internet access. I had one message from Evelynne and three from Meg.

eseaton:

Hope you arrived safely in Alaska. Send me your opening paragraphs when you have them. By this Friday at the latest. Ciao.

Just like Evelynne. One minute she’s praising you and letting you have a primo assignment with a possible promotion attached, and the next she’s on your back with the deadlines. Such was magazine life.

mpetrisi:

I miss you already, you fart. Can’t believe you’re all the way over in Alaska.

mpetrisi:

Went out with Matt last night. Maybe I’m getting carried away, but I think I like him. Maybe it’s his butt I like. Don’t know.

mpetrisi:

Are you wearing flannel yet?

I chuckled over Meg’s last message. I was wearing a flannel shirt. One that Meg wouldn’t be caught dead in. Definitely not a fabric she agreed with. I shot her off a quick reply.

acormac:

Am wearing flannel, but think you’ll be more interested in who else I’ve found in flannel. Didn’t go looking for him—not exactly anyway—but ended up finding Iditarod winner. Having dinner with him tonight.

That ought to have Meg busting at the seams. I logged off and dove back into my research.

Before I knew it, the fire had long since died, and my watch read 5:00. I’d gotten more done than I’d expected. Still, I wanted to take the books back to the resort with me. Old habit. I never left a library or bookstore empty-handed. Sorting through the pile, I chose a few and returned the rest to the shelves.

I hauled my bag and the books back toward the circulation desk where Gwen was perched, pencil still in hair. As I approached, I caught sight of that baseball cap again. The one from the corner booth at Ram’s Den. A man was flipping through a magazine, his body facing away from me as it had been last night. The pad and pen lay beside him on a wooden table.

I placed my books on the desk in front of Gwen and was about to go over to the man when a loud bark echoed outside the library’s front door.

“Oh!” Gwen jumped from her seat. “Hold on one second, Alanna. I have to let one of our VIP guests in.” She scurried over to the door and pushed it open. Gypsy pranced into the library with the handles of a canvas sack between her teeth. She dropped the bag at my feet by the circulation desk and sat back on her hind legs. Angling her head at me, the dog raised a paw and rested it on my thigh.

“Did you meet Gypsy the other night too?” Gwen asked.

“Uh-huh.” I hesitantly reached out to scratch behind the dog’s ear and was delighted when the bright blue eyes narrowed to satisfied slits. When I stopped, Gypsy pushed her nose into my hand until I scratched her again.

“She remembers you.” Gwen picked up the bag and dumped the returned books out onto the desk. “Smart dog, aren’t you, Gypsy?” She gave the dog a rub before stepping back behind the desk to check out my books.

“She always return his books for him?” I looked back to the door just in time to see the man in the baseball cap leaving. Missed him again.

“She does whatever Dale tells her to do. Even does things he doesn’t tell her to do, like save his life.” Gwen scanned all my books into her computer at lightning speed and handed me a receipt.

“Save his life?”

“Oh, I’ll let him tell you that one. It’s a good story. Could have had a tragic ending. Real tragic. But Gypsy here prevented that.”

I studied the dog still sitting obediently beside me. Did Dale tell her to do that?

“Here you go, Alanna.” Gwen pushed the books toward me. “Books can be kept for two weeks, but if you’re going back to New York before then, I’ll need them back sooner.” Gwen still had her friendly smile on, but if someone abused her books or didn’t bring them back on time, I’d wager she’d get vicious.

“I’ll have them to you before I leave. Promise.” I held up my right hand.

“Very good. Enjoy Alaska, dear.”

“Will do.” I already was.

I took my books and looked at Gypsy. “You coming or what?”

Gypsy let out a soft bark as she trotted after me. As soon as we made it outside, my heart thumped erratically in my chest at the sight of the black pickup truck and the man leaning against its tailgate. The sight of him warmed me from the inside out. It could have been thirty below outside, and I wouldn’t have felt a thing.

“You stalking me?” I pointed a finger at Dale.

“Maybe.” His grin was impish.

“I’m supposed to have dinner with a handsome, potentially dangerous sled dog racer in an hour. I don’t know what he’ll do if you abduct me.”

“Oh well,” Dale started as Gypsy sidled up next to him, “I’ll have to follow you to where you’re having dinner with this handsome, gentle-as-a-kitten musher and continue my stalking in private.” He took a few steps closer to me, and my pulse reached an all time high.

“You don’t blend in enough to be a stalker.” I shuffled around in my bag for my car keys. “You’re too noticeable.”

“Noticeable? What’s that supposed to mean?” Dale shifted to lean against the driver side door of my car so I couldn’t open it. I stared into the greenest eyes I’d ever seen, framed with long, feathery lashes that brushed his cheeks when he blinked.

Shaking myself out of my momentary hypnosis, I said, “Number one, you’re like famous around these parts for winning the Iditarod. Number two, you’ve got this intelligent dog that people have to stop and marvel at. And number three…” I nudged Dale out of the way so I could open the car door. He fought back playfully, his hands resting on my waist briefly before he admitted defeat and stepped aside.

“What’s number three?”

I tossed my bag and books into the passenger seat and turned to face him. “Number three is that you, sir, are ridiculously attractive.” I folded my arms across my chest and looked him over approvingly. Another move I learned from watching Meg in action. Oh, how I wish she could see me now. I was like a different person around Dale. Smooth, confident, interested. I hadn’t found anyone worth the effort in New York, but it was easy with this guy. I didn’t want to be invisible around him, to him. “You stand out with those green eyes of yours.”

“Do I now?” Dale puckered his lips in consideration. “I suppose it takes a ridiculously attractive person to recognize another ridiculously attractive person.” He tugged on the end of my hair, and for a moment he was so close to me the woodsy smell tickled my nose again. I closed my eyes, drawing it in.

“Listen, it’s been lovely chatting with you here, but I do have to be off to my dinner meeting. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. I don’t want to be late.”

“No, that would be rude. You don’t want to get started on the wrong foot with this guy.”

I shook my head as I closed the car door. I mouthed the words “see you,” and Dale gave me a wave before opening the passenger door of his truck for Gypsy.

I raced back to Moose Point, and hurried to my room, a levity in my step that was so freeing. I freshened up and changed into a brown sweater and a pair of blue jeans. After pulling on a pair of brown boots, I looked myself over in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Not bad. I pulled the elastic from my ponytail, letting my hair spill about my face. A couple of rakes through it with my fingers, and it looked halfway decent. Sexy, maybe. At least I hoped it did. I didn’t really know what sexy was. A pair of silver hoops adorned my ears along with a silver cuff bracelet around my wrist. Simple, but enough. Meg wouldn’t have thought so, but we didn’t always agree on wardrobe.

Okay, we never agreed on wardrobe, but that was what made being friends with her interesting.

The clock on the end table by the bed read 5:45, so I gave myself one last look in the mirror and bundled up. Again, the cold outside in the dark night hardly touched me. This internal warmth that started in Ram’s Den was growing stronger. Blazing into something more potent. I liked the feel of it. Made me wonder what other feelings I had buried inside me.

And if they could be awakened.

Chapter Seven

When I pulled open the door at Ram’s Den, admiring the carved ram once again, Gypsy was the first to greet me. She was sprawled across a fluffy rug, but raised her head and wagged her tail when she saw me. I scratched under her chin, and she flipped over onto her back, exposing her belly. I proceeded to give her a thorough rubbing. A low hum emanated from her throat, and I couldn’t help feeling contented myself.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Ram stopped to regard us.

“Some female bonding.” I gave Gypsy a final pat before standing.

“You’ll do right to bond with her. She’s the best friend my son ever had.” Ram nodded toward the dog, and she let out a small woof.

“Where’s Dale?” I slid out of my coat and folded it over my arm, hoping I didn’t sound too eager, but knowing that I totally did.

“Give me a kiss on the cheek, and I’ll tell ya.” Ram shot me a sly smile.

“Oh, is this how it’s going to be?” I had to get on tiptoes to reach Ram’s cheek. He smelled like barbecue sauce, and my stomach growled.

“Damn right this is how it’s going to be. It’s the only way an old goof like me can get pretty women to kiss him.”

“Doubt that,” I said, eliciting a hearty laugh from Ram.

“Oh, I do like you, Alanna.” He laid his wide hand on my shoulder. “Dale’s in the corner booth over there.” Ram pointed to where I’d seen the baseball cap man last night.

“Thanks.” I gave my hair another fluff—not a move characteristic of me, but hey, this whole having dinner with someone I knew from the Internet wasn’t exactly characteristic of me either. Here I was, just the same.

Dale had chosen the seat facing the front door, and by the time I’d reached him, it became clear he’d been watching me.

“This seat taken?” I tossed my coat on the bench across from him.

“I suppose if you’re done kissing my father, you can sit there.” Dale arrowed a glare toward Ram, who merely stuck his tongue out when I looked his way.

“Competitive, are we?”

“Definitely. He’s got high expectations. And good taste.” Dale’s eyes wandered down the length of me. “You look fantastic.”

“Likewise.” He had chosen a green thermal shirt that darkened his eyes to a seductive jade. It also showed off the taut muscles of his chest and arms hidden beneath the shirt.

“I believe I remember an email that stated you had a weakness for a good sangria. Is that right?”

“Yeah.” How had he remembered that tidbit?

“Excellent. Uncle Jerry is mixing some as we speak.”

“It pays to know the bartender.”

“Dad has something special planned for dinner as well, so be prepared for first class treatment all the way.”

“I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” I was oddly relaxed sitting with Dale. No jitters at all. No feeling as if I should be working instead. “So what’d you do today?”

“Slept as I indicated I would.” The coy expression on his face hypnotized me. “Then Gypsy and I tended to all the other dogs.”

“How many do you have?”

“Eighteen.”

“Holy shit. You have to take care of eighteen dogs every day?”

“Yep. I like it though. They’re good dogs. They’re champions.”

“Under your direction, of course.”

“Of course.” Dale puffed out his chest in pride. Again, my gaze swooped to the contours of his chest. Couldn’t help but wonder what those muscles would feel like under my fingertips.

“What else?” Had to stop fantasizing.

“Repaired things around my house that I’d let go during race time. Small stuff. Busted gutter. Loose step on the porch. That sort of thing. Then Gypsy and I had books to return, which you already know. And now I’m here, where I’ve wanted to be since meeting you last night.” He paused to trace a finger across the back of my hand resting on the table. “What did you do today?”

“Spent the whole day in the library. Got lost in many books. Took a few back to the hotel with me. Couldn’t resist.” I shrugged. “Made a sizable dent in the background info for my article.”

“Ah, yes, your article. The ‘real’ reason you came to Alaska.” Dale winked at me.

“It is the real reason.” I was prepared to launch into my I-don’t-make-illogical-decisions-to-visit-strangers-across-the-country speech, but Jerry came over with a pitcher and two glasses.

“Dale said the lady fancies sangria?” Jerry set down the pitcher and poured the deep burgundy brew into the glasses.

I took a sip. “Oh, Jerry. You’ve got the secret here.”

“Glad you approve. Enjoy.” He abruptly slid off to a nearby table.

“So, do you have a way with drinks or chicken?” I asked, taking another sip. “It seems to run in the family.”

“I’ve been known to whip up something tasty now and again.” Dale held his glass to mine. I tapped mine to his as he said, “To face-to-face conversations.”

“And to enjoying Alaska,” I added.

“I’d like to help with that.” Dale drank and then set down his glass.

“You already are.” I toyed with the end of my hair. Dale’s eyes shifted to my hand and then back to my face. He blinked slowly several times. Was he fantasizing too?

“So you headed to Denali for this so-called story of yours?”

“Yes, tomorrow actually.”

“The best way to go to Denali is with someone who’s been going there for years, knows it like the back of his hand, and has a special access pass.”

I grinned at his little plan. “And I suppose you know someone who fits that particular description?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He angled his left hand at himself. “Let me take you, Alanna.”

“You’ve already helped me land this opportunity with your responses to my questions. I’ve bothered you enough.” The prospect of going to Denali with him made my stomach flutter excitedly. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy after your win, not acting as tour guide to some New Yorker.”

“First of all,” Dale began, “you’re not ‘some New Yorker.’ It’s silly, I know, but I feel as if know you from all the emails. As if we’re friends already.”

“Agreed. This”—I gestured between the two of us—“is familiar.”

He nodded. “Besides, I told you to come here because I was going to get bored resting, and I am. I want to show you Denali. Please?”

I didn’t want to seem too eager to accept, too easily swayed by him. “What about your wrist? Shouldn’t you be lying low?”

“It’s nothing.” He looked to the brace still covering his right hand and forearm. “It’s actually pissing me off. I made it past the finish line no problem, and then the right wheel dog jerked to the left when a photographer snapped a picture. The whole sled nearly went right over. Instead of hopping off like I was supposed to, I clamped onto the sled handle and got jerked to the left as well. The pain was instant. Shot right up through my whole arm. Stupid, but it’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

He set the full intensity of his green-eyed gaze on me. “C’mon. Just come to Denali with me.”

Just come. Those words echoed in my head again. Words I still maintain did not get me to where I was currently. Listening to him actually say them, though, as he sat across from me, was far more difficult to ignore than an email.

“If you’re sure you don’t mi—”

“I don’t.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go to Denali together.”

“As you wish.” His remarkably full lips turned up at the corners.

“You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” I leaned back in the booth and wrenched my gaze from his lips.

“I’m always pleased when I get my way.” He arched an eyebrow, and my eyes zeroed back in on his lips.

I was almost officially putty in his hands. Another couple of smiles, and I’d be defenseless against his charms. What the hell was happening to my walls? Walls years in the making shouldn’t crumble so easily.

“Here it comes.” Ram’s deep voice broke the spell I was rapidly falling under, and I turned to look at him. He balanced two platters of food, steam wafting from them. “Two orders of my Cajun grilled cod sleeping on a bed of black bean rice with a side of slaw and buttered broccoli.”

As he placed the platters in front of us, cumin and chili powder enticed my senses. “Ram, you’re a god.”

“You got that right, sweetheart.” He whistled a tune as he retreated.

“I feel as if I’ve known your father for years.” I placed my napkin in my lap and cut into the cod.

“He’s everyone’s father. He’s always been that way, but more so since my mom died. I think it helps him deal with it better if he’s always talking to other people.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“A sister. Lives a couple of streets over from here. Married to a detective, has three boys.”

“Three. Yikes.”

“Triplets. Age five.”

“Good Goddess. There’s a special place in heaven for people like that.”

“I agree, although my brother-in-law and my sister run a tight ship. Noah, Riley, and Mick are great kids.”

“I’ll bet you’re the fun-loving uncle they climb all over and always want to visit.”

“Indeed, I am. Sometimes I think they just want to see the dogs, though.”

The rest of the dogs had to be amazing if they were anything like Gypsy, but I was more fascinated by the man.

“What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” Dale shoveled a heap of rice and looked at me.

“No. Only child.”

“You’re one of those. I see.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you were spoiled. Your parents probably gave you every little thing you wanted.”

“They did not.”

“Did you have a puppy?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Horseback riding lessons?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see what—”

“Could you maneuver your way out of trouble?”

“I’m not answering anymore of these questions.”

“That’s what a spoiled kid would say.”

I swatted at Dale’s hand when he angled his fork toward my plate as if he were going to steal some of my dinner.

“Where are your parents now?” he asked.

“My mother died about seven years ago and my dad last year.”

Dale cleared his throat. “Sorry to hear that, Alanna.”

“Yeah, thanks. It’s pretty quiet without them.”

Dale’s eyes were soft, consoling, without him having to say anything. “I can’t imagine what it’s like not having family buzzing around you all the time. It got quiet after my mom passed, but toss in a couple of triplets, boys no less, and things get back to loud pretty quick.”

“Is your entire family as tight as you and Ram?”

“Yeah, we’re pretty much in each other’s faces except during training. Then I disappear.”

“I’m like that with work too. I forget the rest of the world exists sometimes when involved in a story.”

“No time to date then, right?”

When I looked up, Dale’s eyes were narrowed. “Is that your way of asking if I’ve got a boyfriend?”

He nodded and glanced down at his hands.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and I’m pretty sure I suck at being a girlfriend. Can’t seem to find someone who can tear me away from writing my articles.”

“You’re not writing now.” He reached across the table for my hand again. This time he slid his fingers between mine, and they fit together perfectly. “I’m glad you decided to come out with me. No pressure, okay? We’re two friends having dinner.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” He couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be.

He gave my hand a little squeeze and then released it. He picked up his fork and dove back into his dinner. We ate quietly, and it wasn’t an awkward, we’ve-run-out-of-things-to-say quiet. Rather, it was a words-aren’t-necessary quiet. A comfortable quiet.

“Everything okay over here?” Ram poked his head up from the booth behind me. I think the silence had him worried.

“Perfect,” I said.

“Outstanding,” Dale added.

“Wonderful.” Ram shifted into full smile mode as he slid from the booth. “I’ll go see about dessert.”

“Perfect,” Dale said.

“Outstanding,” I added.

Ram paused for a moment and looked at the two of us. “Wonderful.” He raised his hands toward the ceiling.

“He looks like he’s giving thanks,” I said as Ram walked away.

“He is. Like you, I haven’t been on a date in five years at least.”

“Why?”

“Not many women willing to tolerate a man who obsesses over his eighteen dogs. Sure, the dogs are adorable at first, but they require a great deal of attention if they’re going to be ready to perform. I’m also kind of a lunatic around race time. Very scary.”

“Aren’t we a pair?”

“Hope so.”

“You’re pretty charming for a lunatic.” I wiped my hands on the napkin on my lap. “You know that, right?”

Dale’s lips twitched up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, right.” I sipped my sangria and narrowed my eyes at him. Either the drink was taking effect, or Dale was actually getting more attractive right before my eyes. Every chestnut strand of hair was in place. Those long eyelashes kissed solid cheekbones every time he blinked. The hint of a beard dusted around his mouth and chin. A masterpiece sitting across from me.

Ram and Jerry interrupted my examination of Dale, capturing my attention only because of the fascinating dessert they had toted over to us.

“Wow.” My eyes widened in pure delight.

“Not chocolate peanut butter pie, Dad.” Dale looked defeated. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh yes, my boy. Chocolate peanut butter pie. My secret weapon.” Ram laughed maniacally. Well, as much as a teddy bear of a man could laugh maniacally.

“Secret weapon?” I had already picked up my fork, ready to attack the slice Jerry placed in front of me.

“He makes this when he’s trying to win someone over.” Dale folded his arms across his chest and scowled at his father. The scowl never made it all the way to his eyes, however. Amusement still twinkled in them as he regarded Ram.

“Oh, Ram.” I placed my hand on Ram’s forearm. I tugged him into the booth, and he settled beside me. “You won me over last night with those chicken wings. You don’t have to try anything else.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Ram held up two fingers to Dale. “That’s two kisses, son. Two. In one night. I’ve still got it.” He elbowed me as Dale glowered at him.

“Isn’t there something burning in the kitchen, Dad?”

Ram let out a puff of breath as I giggled. I enjoyed watching father and son toy with one another. Enjoyed the closeness the two of them shared.

“Enjoy the pie,” Ram whispered in my ear as he scooted out of the booth.

“Show off,” Dale mumbled as Ram and Jerry went back to the bar.

I’d already taken a bite of the pie and was quickly losing my grip on reality. “Okay, you might not want to hear this, but I’m considering running away with your father if he promises to make this pie every day for the rest of my life. My friend, Meg, would kill for a dessert like this.”

Meg had once wrestled me to the ground for the last peanut M & M. She would shoot me point-blank in the chest for this pie.

“Meg,” Dale said. “She works with you, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Heavens, I was losing myself in a chocolate-encrusted, peanut-butter-mousse haze of bliss. “She’s my best friend. Like a sister, only much better on the eyes than me.”

“How can that be possible?” Dale hadn’t touched his pie yet. Such restraint.

“Oh, it’s possible. She’s taller, skinnier, darker, sexier, more exotic, more confident, a better dresser, and can balance on heels like a tightrope walker.”

“I’ve always preferred a girl in hiking boots myself.”

“Lucky for you, that’s in my wardrobe plans for tomorrow’s Denali expedition.”

I scraped my fork along the plate in hopes of making the ecstasy last a few seconds more, but, alas, my pie was gone. Here were the makings of a true Shakespearian tragedy. Woman gets pie. Woman eats pie. Woman craves a second piece. Thighs and waistline won’t allow it. Pity.

I eyed Dale’s piece still sitting intact on his plate. He slid the pie over to me.

“Don’t do it, Dale. It’ll kill me.”

“You sure?”

I nodded, certain that if I opened my mouth to talk, the words, “Give it to me,” would tumble out. In three enormous bites, Dale made the pie disappear.

“Bless you,” I said, lowering my head. “That was rather impressive.”

“Tons of practice.” Dale sat back in the booth, cradling his right arm against his chest.

“Your wrist hurting?”

A little crease formed between his eyebrows. I had the urge to rub it away. A face as perfect as his shouldn’t look pained.

“I probably used it too much today with the repairs I was doing.” Shrugging, he said, “I don’t know how to sit still.”

“Sitting still is a lost art. None of us have time for it anymore.” I suddenly had an angle for my article. I patted the booth, forgetting I’d left my purse in the car.

“Need something?”

He leaned in, his face so close to mine. What I needed at that moment was to taste his lips. Focusing on them, I shook my head clear. “I wanted to jot down something for my article, but I—”

I stopped when Dale slid out of the booth and sauntered off to the bar. Leaning over it—giving me a life-changing view of his ass—he grabbed something and headed back.

“Here you go.” He plopped down a pad and a pencil.

“You’re nice to have around.”

“I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of you working on your big article.” He rolled his eyes.

“There is an article. I swear it. Why would I spend all day in the library researching if I didn’t have an assignment?”

“You’re probably just a geek.”

“I am a geek, but that has nothing to do with it.” I finished jotting down my thoughts and ripped off the paper, stuffing it into my jeans pocket. On the next blank sheet I wrote, “Moose Point Resort, 7:00AM.” I ripped that sheet off as well and slid it over to Dale.

“Where and when you’ll pick me up tomorrow morning.”

“Got it.” He took the paper and folded it into a perfect square before putting it into his coat pocket. “Does this mean our evening is over?”

“As much fun as I’m having, the geek is telling me to get a solid eight hours of sleep, so I will be prepared to hike with Mr. Iditarod through Denali.”

“A wise geek, indeed.” His hand slid over mine, and I almost told the geek to shut the hell up so I could look at him for a while longer. “Let me walk you out to your car at least. Hang on one second.”

Dale slid from the booth again, and, as he slipped on his jacket, he disappeared into the kitchen. While he was gone, I put on my own coat and headed for the bar. Jerry was behind it, mixing something bright pink. I helped myself to a mint from a glass bowl on the bar in case fresh breath became a necessity.

“That’s why they’re there.” Jerry nodded. “Hope we’ll be seeing you again, Alanna.”

“Definitely. Ram’s hit two home runs with his meals so far, and your sangria was magnificent.”

“This is the best place for eating and drinking, alone or…”

Dale came back out and stood beside me.

“Not alone,” Jerry finished.

“Ready?” Dale asked.

“Uh-huh. Bye, Jerry.”

“Bye now.” He tugged on Dale’s jacket and said in a not-so-quiet voice, “She had a mint, boy.”

“She did? Hand one to me then.”

Jerry tossed a mint to Dale. I rolled my eyes. “You guys are so subtle.”

“And minty fresh,” Dale added.

He ushered me to the door where Gypsy immediately got to her feet.

“Poor girl,” I said. “We’ve made you wait all this time while we stuffed our faces.”

Gypsy angled her head at me as if she understood my words, and for a moment I wasn’t sure she hadn’t. She nosed around me until I patted her. When I walked out the door, the dog followed closely behind me, but Dale didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” I paused on the last step.

“She’s sticking by you.”

“So?”

“She never follows anyone but me. I mean, she goes to people and lets people come to her, but she only follows me.”

Dale shook his head as he pulled the door shut behind him and came to stand before me.

“Maybe she likes me.”

“Maybe I like you.” He took a step closer, and a burst of peppermint rushed at me.

Thank you, Jerry. Dale nudged Gypsy aside with his knee and took my hand in his. I leaned against him—well, layers of coat technically—as he pulled lightly on my arm.

When his lips brushed against mine, they felt exactly as I had imagined they would all through dinner. Soft at first. Short nips while we got the feel of each other. It took only seconds for those nips to turn into something more heated, more urgent. Again, the wind had to be downright arctic around us, but I had no sense of it. I was only aware of the fire burning in my belly and points south.

My free hand found Dale’s shoulder, slinking to the back of his neck. His other arm encircled my waist now, anchoring me. We deepened the kiss, Dale’s lips turning on long dormant senses in my body, and I let myself go. Just go.

When we mutually ended the kiss, it was reluctant. Dale’s eyes were fiery in the dim parking lot light above us.

“Now that was better than the pie,” I said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” He took my hand and walked me to my car. “Tomorrow, 7:00AM.” He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Get that solid eight hours of sleep. Good night.” He tapped his thigh, and Gypsy followed him as he walked back to the front door of the tavern.

“Eight hours of sleep, my ass,” I mumbled. More like eight hours of picturing Dale naked.

Chapter Eight

I sprang from bed the next morning, eager to see Denali—and Dale. Maybe it was the other way around. Dale first, then Denali. I couldn’t be sure. Kissing him last night had brought a rush of feeling I’d never felt in my life. He had awakened some part of me that had been shoved aside. Maybe I could have the kind of happiness that comes from being with someone amazing. Maybe it was possible.

I actually sang—not well, of course—in the shower as I thought about the day ahead. I played a killer air guitar solo as the steamy water rained on me, sending bits of the isolated, closed-off Alanna spiraling down the drain. In the vapors—lavender-scented—a more vibrant Alanna was rising. One who was possibly on her way to a promotion and who knew what else. Suddenly the unknown that lay ahead was more an exciting prospect than a daunting question mark.

As I toweled off, I shuffled through my clothing and selected a pair of long johns to wear under my jeans, a thermal long-sleeved T-shirt, a snug-fitting fleece sweatshirt, and the warmest socks I owned. Rifling through my underwear, I came across the black lace panty set I had thrown into my suitcase more to make me laugh than anything else at the time. Looking at it now, I wasn’t sure it would be completely useless on this particular trip anymore. It wouldn’t keep me warm in Denali, but it might heat things up later.

I cast my towel aside and slipped into the ebony camisole top. The smooth silk was cool against my shower-heated skin. The thin straps went over my shoulders and crisscrossed in the back. Delicate lace trimmed the neckline and the lower edge that skimmed my waist. The panty was the same soft silk, cut high on the legs and low on the waist.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, I inspected myself, which was not something I did frequently. The contrast of black silk against white skin made me look gothic, almost paranormal. I gathered my hair into a loose knot at the base of my neck and wasn’t totally displeased with the look. After layering on the other articles of more practical clothing and coiling a scarf around my neck, I inspected the finished product. If Dale were to get to the final layer, he’d be surprised at what he found there.

I hopped into my socks and secured my hiking boots. Grabbing the backpack I’d brought along, I stuffed my pen, binoculars, camera, and purse into it. A couple of bottles of water on top of that with Meg’s multi-tool in my jeans pocket, and I was ready. I hoisted the backpack onto my shoulder and snatched my jacket, hat, and gloves.

After bounding down the stairs to the main lobby of Moose Point, I stopped short on the last step. A tall man in the same baseball cap I’d been seeing for two days now leaned against the front desk talking to Bear. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but noticed a camera on a strap hanging from the man’s shoulder. Was he a guest at Moose Point or a native Alaskan? I couldn’t tell. Again, as my eyes zoomed in on the notebook wedged under the man’s arm, I concluded he was a writer too.

Notebook. I’d left mine upstairs. I hiked the stairs and jogged back to my room. It was nearing 7:00, and I didn’t want to keep Dale waiting. Okay, maybe I didn’t want to wait to see Dale.

I swiped my notebook off the nightstand, stuffed it into my pack, and jetted back to the lobby. Baseball cap man had again eluded me. I went into the sitting room to the right of the lobby, but it was empty. I didn’t have time to search for the man any further because, when I turned back around, someone else garnered my full attention.

“Morning,” Dale said as he walked over to me.

“Hi.” Molten lava gushed inside my veins. Dale had on his dark green jacket with a fur-trimmed hood. A gray knit hat stuck out of the jacket’s right pocket, and he fiddled with a pair of thick gray gloves. He looked as if he were trying to keep his hands busy. Maybe to keep from touching me, dare I speculate?

He motioned to my backpack. “Anything else you need to get?”

“Nope. Got everything right here, except food.” I patted the pack.

“I’ve got food covered.” Dale gestured outside. “It’s part of the tour package.”

“What’s this going to cost me?” I took a step closer to him.

“We’ll have to work out a payment plan.” He tugged on a loose tendril of my hair. It took all my resolve to not drag him upstairs to my room.

“I’m open to any kind of plan you have in mind,” I said.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Dale whispered. He pulled on my coat sleeve. “C’mon. We only have so much daylight, and we have a bit of a drive to get to Denali.”

I nodded and followed him past the front desk. Bear looked up as we went by, a genuine expression of delight blooming on the man’s face.

“Hey, Dale.”

“What’s up, Bear?”

“Nothing much. You know how quiet things are around here in winter. Once the Iditarod is over, we don’t see much action until summer.”

Bear’s dark eyes flitted over to me, scaring me just a little, and then back to Dale. “Where are you two headed?”

“Ms. Cormac here has a big, important article to write about Denali for her fancy New York magazine.” Dale rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed at having to take me to the park.

I poked him in the arm, and he poked me back. The simple, quick contact had my pulse jumping. Being with him all day was going to be an exercise in self-control—an exercise I rarely needed.

“Take it easy out there. The grizzlies are hungry this time of year.” Bear shot me a grin that fell somewhere between awkward and downright frightening.

“Oh, Bear.” Dale waved his hand. “You know grizzlies don’t fancy New Yorkers. Too chewy.”

Bear burst out in a deep, rumbling hoot as he shook Dale’s hand over the front desk. When Bear let go, Dale’s hand closed over my arm as he guided me toward the door.

“That’s the most I’ve heard that man speak.” I pushed open the door and stepped outside.

“And it’s a good thing you were there, or else he’d have chewed my ear into the afternoon.”

Hard for me to imagine Bear chewing anyone’s ear, but maybe he was only cool and aloof with outsiders like me.

“Hope you don’t mind if I invited two extra guests for this trip.” Dale corralled me over to a dark gray Mazda Tribute—a hybrid, no less. He earned bonus points for being green as well as attractive.

“Extra guests?” I hadn’t planned on a group experience. I wanted Dale all to myself. Why was that?

He opened the back passenger door of the SUV—also shiny like his truck—and Gypsy let out a friendly woof. Next to her was another impressive husky with two different colored eyes, one blue, one brown.

“Oh, how gorgeous!”

“Thanks.” Dale leaned against the Tribute. “Oh, you meant the dogs, huh?”

“Maybe I meant all of you.” I nudged him with my arm, and he laughed. The sound flooded through me, light and sunny, though it was still darkish out.

“That’s Zynk.” Dale pointed to the dog next to Gypsy. “He’s one of my team dogs. They’re the muscle of the sled team.”

“I’m glad to have them along.”

“Gypsy’s told Zynk all about you, and he’s eager to meet you.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Dale brushed past me to open the front passenger door. “Shall we?”

He swept his hand toward the seat. I tossed my pack inside and climbed in. A wet nose sniffed at my ear as soon as I sat, and I scrunched up my shoulders.

“Gypsy, no,” Dale said.

The dog immediately sat, her blue eyes apologetic.

“Sorry about that. She’s excited.”

“I don’t mind doggie kisses.” I turned to look at Dale.

“Good to know. I may get sloppy in my technique later.”

Dale walked around to the driver’s side and hopped in next to me. He started the SUV and pulled out of the parking lot. Only ten minutes into the trip, and I was already having the best time I’d had in years.

****

It wasn’t long before we were buzzing along at a good pace toward Denali. The roads were empty, a sharp contrast to the people littering New York. I settled into the ride, which was rare for me when I wasn’t the driver, but the scenery both outside and inside the vehicle amazed me.

“What’s that goofy smile for?” Dale tapped me on the arm.

“Is it goofy?” I angled myself against the door, so I could look at him better.

He darted his eyes my way and then back to the road. “If goofy means absolutely stunning then, yes, it’s wicked goofy.”

“You’re goofy too, by that definition.”

“Thank you.” The corner of his mouth turned up, creating a subtle dimple in his cheek. I pulled my glove off and reached over to press my index finger into the indentation. Dale’s grin widened, and the dimple deepened. Reluctantly, I drew my hand away, and a slight pout graced his lips.

“Not to worry. I plan to investigate that particular spot further.”

“That and other spots are open for investigation.” Dale’s left hand tightened on the steering wheel. Was he having trouble restraining himself too?

Gypsy’s low hum caught my attention, and I turned to look in the back seat. Zynk was licking her muzzle, and she got in a few licks on him every now and again.

“They’re mating partners.” Dale peeked in the rearview mirror at them. “Produced beautiful pups. Four of them are on my team now.”

Mating partners? Did that equal love for sled dogs?

“Do you sell pups?” I asked.

“Yes. Of the eighteen dogs I own, six of them are breeding pairs. When they have pups, I usually sell or donate the ones I don’t need to keep up my team.”

“Donate?” Gorgeous, environmentally friendly, and kind-hearted. What a combo!

“Yeah. I give some to an orphanage that has a pet program for the kids who live there. Others go to an old folks home in Anchorage that uses dogs as therapy.”

“Two good causes. I’ll bet they think you’re wonderful.”

His eyelashes angled up, angled down. From my side view, they looked even longer, feathery almost. He turned to look at me again, and my eyes targeted his mouth. The memory of last night’s kiss had my own lips tingling with anticipation for a second round. Maybe a third and fourth.

“I am wonderful,” Dale said.

“I think I knew that already. Otherwise I wouldn’t have kept emailing you.”

“I have to confess I use my computer a heck of a lot more than I used to, because I’m always checking for messages from you.” Again, his eyes flitted to me.

“It’s possible that when I saw ‘sled-dog16’ in my inbox, my stomach may have fluttered. Maybe just a bit.” I stuffed my hands back into my gloves to put a barrier between us. My finger, however, did not forget the feel of Dale’s face. It itched to explore. I pulled the gloves back off.

“Talking to you in person is much better.” He reached for my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“I’d have to agree.” I looked down at his hand on mine. “How is this feeling?” I indicated his braced wrist.

“It’s in your lap, so I’d say it feels fantastic.”

I lightly punched his upper arm. “You know what I meant.”

“It throbbed all night, keeping me awake for a good long time. I finally got up and succumbed to the pain pills the doctor gave me. As I waited for that to kick in, kissing you in the parking lot at the bar kept me up.”

I gently massaged his exposed fingers. “Oh, good. Then I wasn’t the only one who was thrown off her usually stable, ultra-logical axis by that kiss.”

“Nope. Hit me like a bolt of lightning.”

“An accurate description.” I continued kneading his fingers, which relaxed in my lap.

“I can only imagine what those fingers of yours can do to the rest of me. That feels so good.” His eyes blinked slowly, as if he were falling into a contented semi-consciousness.

“You’re not going to fall asleep at the wheel, are you?” I stopped rubbing and was about to set his hand back on his side of the car.

“No, sleep is the last thing I want to do.”

Chapter Nine

After two solid hours of driving and lighthearted flirting, Dale turned the car onto a winding roadway. Signs indicated we were headed into Denali National Park. Dale rolled down his window and dug a plastic card from his coat pocket. He waved it in front of a scanner and then drove forward after the electronic arm rose to clear a path for us.

A fresh excitement—one not totally focused on Dale—rushed into me. I was about to enter one of the most pristine areas of wildlife left in the United States. I reached into the backpack at my feet and rifled around until my fingers closed over my camera.

“My, aren’t we prepared?”

I shot him a cocky grin. “You don’t get these prestigious assignments unless you’re prepared, Dale.”

“Oh, I forgot I was traveling with a professional.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, and the motion made me wonder what he was thinking. “So you get a promotion…when you go back to New York?” His voice was not as light and easygoing as it had been seconds earlier.

“If I do this article right, it’s a definite possibility. Two other writers are in the running.” My mind wandered back to New York, causing my chest to tighten.

“Are you satisfied working for Gaia?”

“I love working for Gaia. I’m an outdoors girl. Always have been. To be able to write about nature for a living is wonderful.” My turn to nibble on my lower lip and ponder. “You love it here in Alaska.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. A fact.

Dale nodded. Where did that leave whatever was happening between us? More importantly, why the hell was I thinking something was happening between us? I had to go back to New York. He had to stay here in Alaska. That’s a mighty long distance to make this into something.

Foolish to even be thinking about all this. I’d only known Dale—in person—for a little more than a day, but wanting him was inevitable. My subconscious had already decided to have feelings for him. She could be a bitch if she didn’t get what she wanted.

We drove along the narrow park road in silence, until the formal path disappeared. Dale parked and said, “We go on foot from here.”

I gathered my pack and climbed out of the SUV. Opening the back door behind me, I let Gypsy jump out. Zynk hopped out on Dale’s side, and I met them at the back of truck. Dale unloaded a backpack of his own from the trunk and slung it over his shoulder. Before turning toward a trail, snow matted by a snowmobile perhaps, Dale hesitated in front of me.

“I’m not going to like letting you go back to New York. I know it’s too soon to be saying that, but I’m drawn to you, Alanna.”

“I know what you mean. How about if we enjoy the moments we have and save the good-byes for when we have to do them?” It sounded like an easy plan, but my body and my heart knew otherwise.

Dale nodded. “C’mon then. Let’s get started.” He took my hand and led me to the trail. Patting his thigh once, Dale propelled Gypsy and Zynk into a trot behind us. Their noses hit the ground as they sniffed and poked around in the clumps of scattered snow.

“We’ll head for Sable Pass and then on to Polychrome. You’re guaranteed to see animals wherever we go, but those spots offer good views.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Tour Guide.” I gave his hand a squeeze. I longed to be rid of my gloves again, so I could feel his flesh against mine, but the Alaska cold was ready to bite. I didn’t feel it so much with Dale beside me, but I knew mere thoughts of him couldn’t protect me against the elements. Plus, we had a hike ahead of us. At least a fraction of my brain attempted to be practical.

As we walked, I scanned back and forth, keeping a sharp lookout for wildlife and landscape. We traipsed through a field of low brush, fringed in tall, impressive pines. My feet squished through snow pockets. Black twigs poked through the white. Wide open, rolling hills parried with dense groups of trees for control of the land. As the sun brightened in the morning sky, more beauty stepped from the shadows. I stopped every so often to snap a few photos, and Dale waited patiently.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m going to slow us down with this picture-taking.”

“That’s okay. It’s why we’re here.”

“How many times have you been here?” I stepped onto a boulder to get a better shot of the trees in the distance.

Dale let out a long breath. “Hundreds.”

“Really?” I hopped off the boulder.

“Really. My dad used to bring us here every summer, and I’ve been coming back here regularly. Can’t stay away, you know?”

“I can see how that could happen. It’s peaceful here.” Such a contrast to the industrialized world of New York.

“It’s easier to feel like a part of the Earth here.” His voice was a whisper, reverent and serene.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Can I use it in my article?”

“Sure. If you think it’s any good.”

“It’s perfect.” I rummaged around in my pack for my notebook and pen. After scratching down what he’d said, I made a few more notes about the landscape. Dale walked a bit ahead with Gypsy and Zynk on his heels. I grabbed my camera. Focusing on him and the dogs, I snapped several shots. A little souvenir for myself.

I jogged to catch up with him, but stopped short when a loud, rumbling growl echoed through the natural silence that cloaked the park. Dale motioned for me to stay still. With another hand signal, he sent Gypsy and Zynk to their bellies. Dale took a few more steps forward, hardly making a sound as he moved. He signaled for me to approach, and when I did, my jaw dropped open.

Two full-grown grizzlies faced one another on hind legs, their massive paws swatting at each other. Deep grunts emanated from them as they grappled. One tumbled to the ground. The other lunged on top of the fallen bear. I nudged Dale and pointed to my camera. He nodded, and I maneuvered the view screen to capture both bears in the frame. I snapped shot after shot without a flash or a sound, and the bears continued their battle as if Dale and I weren’t watching their every move.

Snow flew in every direction as the bears wrestled. Finally, the one on the ground squirmed free and lumbered into the trees. The winner stomped after him to the tune of snapping twigs and low growls.

“Oh my Goddess! That was amazing!” Adrenaline pumped through my body, while fear and wild excitement battled for dominance.

“Your article is going to kick ass if we keep having shows like this.” Dale tugged on my backpack, so I would follow him. As soon as he motioned to them, Gypsy and Zynk popped up and traveled along with us.

“Good thing you know how to not look like food,” Dale added, grabbing for my hand.

“I’ve had years of practice being invisible.”

Dale stopped walking and turned to face me. “You’re not invisible. Not to me. I’d have spotted you miles away.”

“What would have happened if the bears had spotted us?” I tightened my grip on Dale’s gloved hand, beaming a little at his compliment.

“I’m sure they knew we were there.” He hiked a small incline, tugging me behind him. “They had more important business to tend to at that moment. They weren’t on the hunt, and they weren’t mamas protecting cubs, so we were of little interest.”

I let that information sink in and realized Dale knew a great deal about the wilderness. He looked as if he belonged in Denali, wandering amongst the bears. Though the temperature was frosty, he looked unaffected. He wore his jacket and hat as if they were a permanent part of him, and his feet carried him steadily across the terrain. A new swell of admiration flared inside of me as I followed him.

My fingers itched to capture everything around us on camera. As we walked through Sable Pass, we encountered a red fox, her rusty fur dusted in snow, as she corralled three cubs into a burrow. Four Dall sheep, two of them lambs actually, crossed the fresh snow covering a nearby mountainside. Their innocent faces, dotted with two soulful black eyes, turned skyward as they sniffed the air and then followed the older sheep along the mountain. The spiraled horns adorning the heads of the two adult Dall sheep showcased an exquisite example of nature’s artwork.

“Those horns remind me of the ram carved onto your father’s door at the tavern,” I said.

“I carved that.”

“Holy shit. Really? You’re good.”

“I’m good at a bunch of things.” Dale threw a glance over his shoulder, and a hot sweat broke out all over me.

At Polychrome Pass, a gray wolf was hunting hares. Poetry in motion, he crouched in the snow and waited for the unsuspecting hare to hop by. Then, in one swift pounce, the wolf caught its prey, and the hare breathed its last breath. Though something tugged at my heart over the spent life, it was so circle of life, so natural, I couldn’t help but be awestruck. I remembered reading about the food chain in Ms. Taylor’s third grade, but seeing it live was a whole different experience.

“You hungry?” Dale pulled off his glove and checked his watch.

“What time is it?” Time had no meaning in Denali. The real world seemed so far away in this picture-perfect wonderland.

“Nearly one o’clock. We should eat, hike a little farther, and then, sadly, make our way out before it gets dark.”

I made a sad face that had Dale lifting my chin with his still ungloved hand. The feel of his skin against mine wiped away the frown.

“Wouldn’t want you to freeze your lovely ass off,” he said.

“I suppose if you don’t vanish into thin air once we get back to your truck, I can live with having to leave Denali.”

“Wherever I’m going today, Alanna, you’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a request and, oddly, I had no argument with it. I rose on my toes to brush my lips against Dale’s. As we got sucked into the kiss, I slid my hands to either side of Dale’s head. In one quick motion, I pulled his hat down to the bridge of his nose, throwing off his skilled field trip around my lips.

“Hey!” He stumbled back and yanked his hat off. Raking a hand through his thick hair, he narrowed his eyes at me. “Be on alert, Gaia-girl. I love payback.”

“I’ll be ready.” I raised an eyebrow in challenge and narrowly avoided the snowball Dale constructed and hurled at me. “You throw like a girl.”

“Pushing it, lady.” He assembled another snowball and pretended to take his time aiming it.

“Oh, throw it already. You’re going to miss.”

“I don’t think so.” The words still hung in the air as he dropped his backpack and launched himself at me. After scooping me up in his arms, he spun us both around before sinking playfully into the snow. I let out a yelp that had Gypsy and Zynk jouncing over, their tails wagging, wanting in on the action. The dogs took turns nosing at my cheeks, while Dale held down my shoulders.

“No fair.” I gasped around laughter. “Three against one.”

“Are you going to take back that I throw like a girl?” His face was inches from my own, and his eyes held me captive. Though I was now wet, a hot splash of fire blazed through my body.

“Sure. I’ll take it back.”

He eased his hold and sat back next to me. “Thank you.” Dale dusted off his jacket, dropped the snowball, and stood to retrieve his pack.

“I’ll take it back when you start throwing like a man.” When he whipped around, I tossed a snowball square at his chest. A dead on bull’s-eye.

“Wait,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “You wait.”

I got to my feet and went over to him. “I’ll bet you don’t hold grudges. Besides, I have ways of making you forget about revenge.”

He raised an eyebrow as he handed me a plastic container from his backpack. “You’re going to have to try awfully hard to make me forget.” He tossed me a water bottle, and we shared our lunch, grinning at each other from time to time like adolescents. Dale set out food for each of the dogs as well, and they attacked it.

“Did you make these sandwiches?” I asked, finishing off the last of my own.

“Uh-huh. Why, were they not to your liking?” He stuck his tongue out at me as I handed him the empty container.

“Actually, they were excellent. Ram has rubbed off on you.”

“Yeah.” Dale took a deep breath. “The older I get, the more like him I get.” He shrugged and tossed the container into his backpack.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Your father seems like a great man.”

Thoughts of my own father rushed into my head. I was totally a daddy’s little girl. My whole world revolved around him when I was a kid and remained so as I’d aged.

“My father is a great man,” Dale said, “but sometimes I make myself crazy trying to impress him.”

“He certainly seems proud of you, so you must be doing something right.”

“He gets a kick out of me winning the Iditarod, but he has other goals in mind for me.” Dale took a swig from his water bottle and then hitched his pack onto his shoulder.

“Other goals? Like what?”

“Like settling down. Getting married. Having kids. Like my sister.”

“Do you want those things?” I didn’t know if I wanted the answer to that question, but it spilled out before I could stop it.

“Eventually. I know my sister and brother-in-law are happy. Family life looks good on them. I wouldn’t mind a slice of happiness like that.” I matched step with Dale as he walked. “What about you?”

I don’t know why, but I hadn’t been prepared for him to turn the question over to me.

“Me?” I walked beside him quietly for several long seconds. “It all sounds good. In theory. I have doubts I can do the family thing and the career though. I don’t juggle well and marvel over people who do.”

Dale simply nodded, and I appreciated his ability to listen without offering advice.

We trekked onward until I spotted caribou loitering by a grove of trees. One of them, a fine bull, kept watch while the others nosed around in the snow. He had an impressive set of antlers that looked too heavy for his head to carry. White tufts of fur ran along the underside of his neck, giving him an old sage appearance. The air of dignity surrounding him was unmistakable as he held his head high.

Turning around in a wide circle, I snapped a panoramic image, frame by glorious frame. Hopefully, when the pictures were developed, I could orchestrate a 360º view of the perfect beauty around me. The Alaska Range spiking from the ground and doused in white. Pine trees with heavy, sagging boughs, standing guard. Wildlife surviving the winter in Denali. No other place I’d visited or done stories on could compare to this.

“There’s one more thing you’ve got to see.” Dale’s voice sounded far away at first so lost was I in my enjoyment of the park. “C’mon.”

Dale scaled a small hill, Gypsy and Zynk on his heels. I hiked up behind them. Dale reached down and locked his grip on my forearm. With a gentle tug, he maneuvered me to stand in front of him, facing him. The look on his face was akin to a child ready to share a secret.

“When you turn around, look first. You can grab your camera after. Okay?”

“Okay.” Anticipation buzzed through me. Or was it being so close to Dale?

With a little nudge, Dale spun me around, and a gasp caught in my throat. His hands closed over my shoulders, anchoring me, keeping me earthbound amongst what had to be heaven.

Rising above all the other mountains in the distance, Mount McKinley reached into the cerulean Alaskan sky like a white giant. Its peaks were arrowheads of rock encrusted in snow that glistened magically in the pink of the late afternoon sunlight. How incredibly small I was, like a speck of dust in comparison to the majesty of McKinley.

“Oh, Dale…” My voice was nothing more than a rasp. I let my pack drop to my feet and leaned back against him. He folded his arms around me and squeezed. When I thought the moment couldn’t get any closer to perfection, he loosened my scarf enough to nuzzle his cold nose against my neck. Though I initially shivered at the contact, he quickly warmed the spot with the heat of his lips.

Giving McKinley another look, I turned around to face Dale. He trailed his lips over my cheek and finally to my mouth where he did things that made my head spin. Our lips met as we tasted, savored each other. Great Goddess, I had shut myself off for too long. Or maybe I’d been waiting. Waiting for him.

Whatever the case, Dale unlocked emotions in me. Trust, wanting, love. I wasn’t sure what to do with any of these, but my heart thudded wildly in my chest over the prospect. My skin longed to have Dale’s fingers spread across every inch of it. My lips wanted him to never stop kissing me.

“Take your pictures.” The words were a whisper. “And let’s go.” His lips brushed mine one final time before he descended the small hill. Zynk leaped after him, but Gypsy sidled up next to me.

“You must love living with him.” I reached down to scratch her cheek. Gypsy let out a soft bark as she put her paw against my leg. “Yes, you’re right.” I looked back at Dale. “I need to hurry with these pictures.”

The hike back to the truck was as wonderful as the hike into the park. Excitement over what I had seen in Denali and now anticipation about the night ahead had my blood pumping at full speed through my veins. As we unloaded our packs and shuffled the dogs into the back seat, a loud snapping of twigs caused me to walk around to Dale’s side of the truck.

“Moose,” he said. “Two of them, male and female.”

“Where?”

“At about eleven o’clock.” Dale angled his arm out in that direction.

I followed his arm until movement caught my eye. The bull was enormous. Muscles bulged beneath his thick pelt. The cow was equally impressive with her smooth auburn coat and wide eyes.

“Fantastic,” I whispered. Raising my camera still hung about my neck, I captured the last animal on my list. “That makes all five of the Big Five. Plus, I got some others, too. My boss is going to flip.”

“That promotion is in the bag.” Dale held his hand out for a high five. I obliged, and as soon as my glove touched his, he grabbed my hand. “We’re probably past the high-five stage.”

“Definitely.” I leaned into him again, desperately wishing to be rid of our heavy jackets and gloves.

“Come home with me.” Dale kissed my forehead and then focused his eyes on mine.

I nodded, and Dale’s lips twitched up in victory. He released my hand, and I sauntered to the passenger side of the truck. Tried my best to give Dale a good show.

“Let’s see if we can avoid a speeding ticket.” Dale started the truck and pulled onto the park road.

Laughing, I rested my head on the back of the seat. Gypsy pressed her wet nose to my ear and sniffed loudly.

“Gypsy. Jeez, I’m sorry she keeps doing that. She’s usually better behaved.” Dale pushed her back with his hand.

“No, no. It’s all right. We’re becoming friends, she and I.”

“I can’t be responsible when she wants to climb into your lap.”

I glanced at the size of Gypsy. “She’s not a lap dog.”

“That’s what you think.” Dale let out a chuckle. “She may be big, and when we’re training or racing she’s all business. Give her a Friday night at home, however, and she’s the ultimate couch potato. She’ll plant herself across my lap and fall asleep. She even snores.”

I pictured Dale and Gypsy all cozied together, and my attraction to him grew tenfold.

“She’s welcome to sniff my ear, lick my face, and hog my lap.” I reached around to pat Gypsy’s muzzle, and the dog’s tail thumped against the car seat.

“Can I get an invitation like that?” Dale sent me a sideways glance.

“You’ve got it.”

I raised the armrest between us and scooted closer. Dale rested his arm in my lap again, and I pulled off my glove first, then his. I slipped my hand under his, weaving our fingers together for a perfect fit. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I told myself to go with it. To enjoy it for however long it lasted.

Chapter Ten

The drive back to Fairbanks passed in a whirl of hot pink streaks across the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. Total darkness crept in as Dale pulled onto a narrow driveway. The pine forest on either side hugged the gravel, threatening to swallow the path once we went by. After a few minutes, a black silhouette appeared in a clearing amongst the trees. A thin beam of light grew wider as a garage door opened. In the headlights of the car, the rounded shapes of thick logs appeared on the exterior of the house.

“The infamous log cabin,” I said, remembering several emails from Dale when he was building it.

“I hope it lives up to how I’ve described it.”

“Other things have exceeded my expectations. Why shouldn’t your house?”

I climbed out of the car, shouldered my backpack, and checked out the black truck in the second garage bay.

“Two nice vehicles. Not too shabby.”

“The truck is part of my race win.” Dale pulled his backpack from the SUV and dropped it by a door I assumed led inside.

“Seriously? They give you a truck like this for traipsing through the snow with a couple of dogs?” I let out a whistle.

“Traipsing? More like freezing my balls off as the wind whipped at me and my champion pups.”

“Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes. Teasing him was such fun.

I looked at the neat shelves lining the interior of the garage. My eyes fell upon a row of bins, all tidily labeled with their contents.

“And I thought I was type A.”

“I hate messes.” He closed the garage door before the cold seeped in. Pulling off his hat, he came to stand next to me. “Go ahead. Make fun of me if you want, but if we need”—he paused and angled his head back to read one of the labels—“twelve-gauge speaker wire later on, I’ll know exactly where to get it.”

He pulled off my hat and threw it toward Zynk. The dog jumped up on two powerful hind legs and caught it in his jaws.

“Hey!”

“In,” Dale shouted, and Zynk bounded toward the door between the garage and the house. The dog burrowed through a doggie entrance cut into the bottom of the door and disappeared with my hat.

“Let’s see.” Dale looked me over. “What shall I give Gypsy?”

I rushed forward and gave him a playful shove. He pretended to be severely injured by my tap and then rushed for the door himself. “C’mon. Let’s eat something and get…warmed up.”

“I have some ideas on how to do just that.” I followed him inside.

“I’ll want to hear all of those ideas and probably try most of them.”

Once inside, Dale closed the door and, placing his palms on either side of me, he leaned in, touching his nose to mine. I unzipped his jacket and slipped my hands inside. A hum, so completely masculine, rumbled in his throat as I kneaded the muscles under his shoulder blades.

“Forget eating first.” He let his jacket drop, unzipped mine, and peeled it off.

My lips sought his, aching to have them take whatever they wanted. Dale forged a trail down my chin and continued along my neck until I shuddered against him. Taking a fistful of his thick sweater, I tugged it over his head and let it fall on top of his jacket. I spread my palms on his well-muscled chest as his heart thudded powerfully under his T-shirt.

He worked my fleece sweatshirt off and drew me close. The whiskers on his chin tickled my cheek as he explored my ear. Dale slipped his hands under my thermal shirt, his fingers rough, calloused, but warm and skilled around my waist.

Something akin to a groan escaped from my throat, and I swept my hands up to Dale’s neck. I stroked my fingers down both his arms and landed at the waist of his jeans. Gripping the end of his T-shirt, I pulled it off as well and couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped.

“Okay, maybe there’s a bit more to sled racing than I gave you credit for.” I explored his chest with the palm of my hand. “You don’t get muscles like these by merely traipsing through the snow.” I pressed my lips to his bared shoulder and delighted in his swift intake of breath.

“C’mon.” He took my hand and led me through what I only half-noticed was an enormous kitchen.

At the base of a staircase made entirely from logs, Dale paused as several loud barks sounded from the back of the house.

“Shit,” Dale hissed. “I have to feed them, or they won’t stop barking.” He turned his eyes—the greenest shade I’d seen yet—toward me apologetically.

“If I help you, it’ll be quicker.” I went back to the kitchen, making a mental note to inspect it more fully later, and retrieved our jackets. I turned around quickly and bumped into Dale, who had noiselessly followed me.

“They can wait another minute or two.” He crushed his lips down on mine, and I matched his fervor, kiss by kiss, caress by caress. I was slipping away. Blissfully light. Completely carefree. The cautious, disinterested Alanna I’d lived with for years had taken the night off.

The metallic clang that echoed in the kitchen ripped us both from our exploration of each other. We whipped our heads toward the direction of the noise.

“Gypsy,” Dale groaned. The dog whimpered, her blue eyes staring at the bowl at her feet. “Subtle. Real subtle.”

“Go on,” I said. “Poor girl. She’s starving.”

“So am I,” Dale mumbled, though I doubted he was thinking of food. As he bent to tip Gypsy’s bowl upright and set it next to three others, I stepped behind him. Still shirtless, his back cried out for me to touch it. I walked my fingers along his shoulders and combed them through his hair. He nearly dropped the container of dog food he was holding. I giggled as he juggled it, bouncing it between his hands before catching it.

“Am I making this difficult?” I nipped at the back of his ear.

“It’s certainly much more erotic than it usually is.” Dale shoveled out two heaping scoops of food into two of the four bowls. Zynk came to join Gypsy, the two of them now having oodles of patience as Dale prepared their meal. After a short whistle from Dale, the dogs descended upon the bowls and slopped down the meat.

“Do they need water?” Figured I ought to actually help if we were to ever…umm…get to our other business.

“Yep.” Dale handed me the remaining two bowls. Stepping toward the sink, a rustic, hammered copper one, I turned on a faucet shaped like an old-fashioned water pump. I filled both bowls and set them where Dale indicated. He had unfortunately put his shirt and jacket back on in the meantime.

“That’s a shame.” I tugged on his jacket and pouted.

“I can be unwrapped again. Don’t you worry.” He dropped a quick kiss on my nose. “C’mon. This way.”

I shrugged back into my sweatshirt and jacket and followed Dale out a back door by the stairs. My gaze wandered up the staircase toward the rooms that hovered above us. His bedroom was up there. I would see it tonight. My senses reeled at that little tidbit of information. I was not sure I was emotionally ready for such an escapade. Physically, the prospect of Dale scratching that itch seemed right though.

I jogged to catch up to Dale, who moved at warp speed. Dog barks thundered through the otherwise quiet backyard. He held a wire gate open for me, and I scooted in behind him. In the floodlights that came on as we stepped in their path, a wide, rectangular enclosure stretched before me in all directions. Twenty or so wooden doghouses formed a circle around the perimeter of the enclosure.

That was the last thing I noticed before the charge of dogs came at me.

“Ignore them and they’ll think you’re supposed to be here,” Dale instructed.

Their barking was so loud and constant. “That’s easier said than done.”

Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the doghouses behind the yapping dogs. Cool. Aloof. I could do that. I’d had practice. Men. Dogs. What was the difference, right?

About forty-two razor-sharp teeth each. That’s the difference.

Dale held out his left hand, fist up, and his right hand, palm down. Instantly the sixteen dogs that had rushed to us sat on their haunches, their barking silenced. When he brought his left fist down by his leg in a sharp arc, all the dogs lowered and put their heads on their front paws. Although all the dogs looked like huskies, their coloring varied. Some were all white. Others were black and white. And still others were a golden sand color.

“Stay.” His voice had so much authority in it.

An incredible turn-on. I certainly planned to stay.

“They’ll be quiet for a few now.” He started toward a large, barn-like shed at the back of the enclosure.

“How do you remember all of their names?”

“Twelve Days of Christmas song.”

“What?”

“I sing their names in my head to the Twelve Days of Christmas melody. Only it’s Eighteen Dogs of Sledding. I’ll spare you my horrible singing voice and just tell you their names.”

“Aw, c’mon.”

“Nope. Too soon for singing.” He pointed to the closest dog. “That’s Zebra. Then we have Sasha, Frodo, Molly, Achilles.” Dale gave the last dog a pat between the ears. “Achilles is Gypsy and Zynk’s first pup.”

Achilles pawed at Dale’s bootlaces as Dale moved to the next bunch of dogs.

“These are Gemini, Jamu, Eagle, and Cassie next to Achilles.” Dale stepped to the second row of dogs and continued. “This is Ram. Dad named him. Next to Ram, we have Licorice, Bubbles, and Racoon, named by my nephews. And finally, Seven, Spider, and Balto.”

“Like the famous sled dog from the 1925 serum run to Nome?” I’d read about that dog in the library.

“Yeah. I couldn’t resist. That’s one of my favorite stories.”

I faced the dogs. “Lovely to meet all of you.”

Dale snapped his fingers, and each dog lifted a paw to wave.

“Oh, that was smooth.”

“What good are all these dogs if they don’t help a guy out sometimes?” He motioned for me to follow him into the shed. A wide refrigeration unit lined one of the walls. Dale pried it open, and I peeked inside. Large cans of food were stacked neatly inside. He extracted eight of them and turned to me.

“Lay the bowls out on the table.” He pointed to a long wooden work area opposite the refrigeration unit. “Half a can in each bowl.” He handed me a metal spoon and took one for himself.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” I saluted him with the spoon.

“Shit. This is more fun with you here.” He planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek and shoveled food into the bowls. “Most chicks don’t make it past the rush of barking dogs, but here you are already in the shed.” He turned around and stared at me for a long moment as I scooped food into my bowls.

We worked efficiently together and had the food in front of the hungry dogs in no time.

“Let’s wait in the shed,” Dale said. “It’s cold out here.”

Was it cold? I’d lost my ability to gauge the temperature around Dale. Nonetheless, I led the way back to the shed. Another section beyond where the food and bowls were housed piqued my curiosity. Above the threshold, a plaque read, It’s All About Attitude.

“Your attitude or the dogs’?”

“Both. We won’t win anything if we both don’t have the right attitude.”

I nodded, then wandered deeper inside the shed. My eyes widened at its contents. Two state-of-the-art snowmobiles, an ATV, and a toboggan lined the far wall. Complicated looking harnesses and lines hung from hooks on the wall above the vehicles, and other gear sat on shelves similar to those I had seen in the garage.

I meandered over to the sled and looked back at Dale, who was resting against the threshold between the two sections of the shed.

“Is this the winning sled?”

“It is.” His eyes looked a little glossy as if he were back out on the Iditarod Trail, perhaps, reliving his win. He blinked, and he was back with me. Stepping into the room, he pointed to three sacks made of a material I’d never seen before. “All that came with me too.”

“What exactly does one pack for a trek through the Alaskan wilderness?” Packing to write an article had been challenge enough for me.

“Snowshoes, ax, cooker, pot, emergency food, clothes, rifle, extra booties for the dogs, sleeping bag.”

“Sleeping bag? You don’t sleep outside the whole time you’re out there, do you?” The thought made me shiver.

“No. There are twenty-six checkpoints along the trail. You get the dogs checked out by a vet, refuel, pick up food, catch some Z’s. There are three mandatory stops—a twenty-four-hour one, which I took at mile 352 in Nikolai after crossing Farewell Burn, a windy spot. Then, you have to take two more eight-hour stops. One at the Yukon River checkpoint and another at White Mountain seventy-seven miles from the finish line.”

“How long is the trail?”

“Over a thousand miles.”

“Holy shit.” I couldn’t imagine attempting such a feat, but the more Dale spoke about it, the more animated he became.

He loved it and the dogs.

Pointing to the wall, he said, “Those are the harnesses and different lines. Maybe I can take you for a ride, and I’ll show you how it all works.” He looked down and kicked at his boot. “You know, if you’re interested.”

“I’m totally interested.” I placed my hand on his forearm. “I’d love to go for a ride with the dogs and”—I walked over to the snowmobiles and hopped on the one closest to me—“On these too.”

“You got it. I’m sure Dad will insist you ride his.”

“This one is Ram’s?” I pictured Ram zipping through the snow on one of these babies, an excited roar of laughter echoing around him.

“Yep. I was looking into buying one and he said, ‘Son, one is no fun. I’ll get one too, and we’ll tear it up together.’ And that’s what we’ve been doing on them since we got them.”

“My dad and I used to ski together. We had so much fun.”

Dale’s arm reached across my back, and he pulled me into a half hug. “You must miss him.”

“Terribly.”

“My father drives me nuts, but I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Tricky how they manage that, isn’t it? One minute you want to tell them to back off, and the next you realize how much you need them.”

Dale nodded and then took my hand. “Listen.”

“What?” I didn’t hear anything.

“The dogs are finished. Let’s clean the bowls and get back inside. I believe we were in the middle of something.”

“Were we?” I said. “I don’t remember.”

“Let me refresh your memory then.” He gathered the sides of my jacket and bunched them in his fists.

Pulling lightly so I rubbed against him, he feasted on my lips, his urgency firing my own desire to full throttle.

I’d be lucky to remember my own name by the time the night was over.

Chapter Eleven

Dale chased me back to the house, and I didn’t mind when he caught me. Kicking the door shut with his boot, he tore off his jacket and shirt. He stood before me bared to the waist, looking delicious.

“There,” he said. “Right back where we left off.”

“Not quite.” I slid my jacket and sweatshirt off and tossed them aside. “Now we’re right back where we left off.”

Dale was before me in one long stride. He took my hand and tugged me toward the stairs. I followed him—perhaps too eagerly—but I was past the point of pretending I didn’t want him.

I wanted him. All of him. Right now.

At the top of the stairs, he turned left and led me into a darkened room. His hand felt so wonderful in mine that he could have led me anywhere. I didn’t care.

Dale flicked on a bedside lamp, the light dim and sexy as it cast a warm, golden glow on the pine-paneled walls of the room. As much as I wanted to dive into Dale, I took a moment to look around his bedroom, to get to know the man who slept there night after night. Tasteful artwork depicting varying snowy forest scenes adorned the walls in frames made of twigs. Two wide windows, nearly floor to ceiling abutted one another in one corner of the room. Thick, dark green curtains, simply stitched, scooped over each window. In the center of the far wall, a huge sleigh bed waited, covered in a checkered corduroy quilt in green and burgundy hues. Rustic pinecone ironwork adorned the bed’s head and footboards. Two small nightstands flanked the bed, while a dresser stood to the left of the door. The smell of pine mixed with a citrusy, masculine aroma.

Having finished my sweep of the room, I sat on the edge of the bed and trapped Dale between my knees. He eased me back, and two huge skylights cut into the ceiling allowed me a nearly panoramic view of the bright spotlight of moon above. Her watchful eye urged me on, giving me her blessing. This was right. The moon knew it. I knew it.

Dale grasped the end of my thermal shirt as he knelt on the bed, his legs on either side of me. He slid his left hand underneath the fabric, flattening his palm across my stomach. I arched slightly to press myself more closely against his warm fingers.

He exhaled a staccato breath as he removed my shirt and discovered the silk camisole underneath.

“Is this what life in New York is like?” He straightened to take a better look.

“Hardly. This number’s been in hibernation for some time. I packed it to make myself laugh when I saw it in my suitcase.”

“There’s nothing funny about this.” He trailed a finger along the thin strap at my shoulder. “Is there…” He nudged down the waist of my jeans and closed his eyes at the sight of the matching black panty. “Wonderful.” The word was more of a growl than anything else. The sound of it set me on fire.

I loosened his jeans, and Dale helped the rest of the way, ridding himself of his remaining garments. I took a moment to look at the body before me. Lean. Defined. Picturesque. I ran my fingers along his muscular arms as he slid off my jeans, shoes, and socks. Nothing between us now, but flimsy black silk and lace. Even that was too much. I wanted him closer. His body on mine. In mine. Part of me. Such a primal urge was new to me. I rather liked it.

Leaning on his elbows to hover over me, he began an expedition across my shoulder with his lips. I shuddered beneath him and rubbed my bare legs against his, eliciting another rumble from his throat. I boiled with desire.

“Dale…” My voice came as a hoarse whisper, and his lips covered mine, silken, yet hungry. He shifted slightly to lean on his right elbow, the fingers of his left hand combing through my hair. Pulling it free from its knot, he gently raked through the unruly strands until he had most of my hair splayed out on the bed.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he dropped kisses along my jawline.

Arousal edged me toward insanity. How much more could I take? I laced my fingers behind Dale’s neck and pulled him down until he rested his chest against mine. Smooth, taut muscles met black silk, and he slid over me like butter on hot toast.

I combed my hands over his shoulders, down his back, to his waist. Power surged through me as he shuddered. I hooked my hands on the back of his thighs and drew him closer. I was done waiting.

Catching his mouth with mine, I turned the heat up another thousand degrees when I shrugged out of my panties and opened to him, accepted him. He was more than willing, more than ready.

Dale slipped my camisole off and cupped my breasts. When his tongue teased, I groaned in frantic pleasure, arching closer to him, driving him deeper into me. I closed my eyes, riding higher and higher, until splashes of light played on the insides of my eyelids.

With each steady, rhythmic thrust, reality dropped away. Only Dale existed. He was all that was real to me.

So why did I feel like I was dreaming?

I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want the moment to end.

Dale’s hands canvassed every inch of me, his touch sending shockwaves through my system. Being electrocuted must feel like this—as if every one of my senses had been sharpened by a massive jolt of power. My entire body buzzed with the energy passing between us.

I climbed higher still, taking Dale with me. We were soaring now, our bodies locked in a passion so fiery, bursting into flames was likely. With slow, powerful thrusts, Dale brought me to overflowing, his enjoyment timed to my own. We crested the wave and sank into sweet oblivion.

Dale rolled to my left and nestled beside me, his legs still entwined with mine. His skin rough, but warm, against my own had me yearning to keep him close. I shifted to face him and slid my arm around his waist. He leaned closer to kiss me and slipped his arm around my shoulder. When he pulled away, the jade eyes aimed at me were irresistible.

“Well,” I said, my voice only a sigh, “I don’t remember seeing this part in the Denali Tour Package.”

Dale buried his face in my hair, and the sound of his laughter, all husky and deep, made my insides smolder.

“This is a special feature for certain customers only.” He traced a finger along my cheek.

“I can’t wait to see the bill.” I rolled my eyes.

“Because I enjoyed that as much as you—if not more—I’ll forgo charging you extra.” He teased my lips again, gentle and light this time. I savored the taste of him, basked in the feel of his lips.

“I’m not sure what’s come over me.” Dale rubbed at his forehead as if he were a little confused.

“That makes two of us. I didn’t think we’d…end up here.” I combed my fingers through Dale’s hair.

“I’m glad we did.” He propped up on his elbow to look at me.

“Me too.” As I gave him a quick peck, my stomach growled.

Dale raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I’ve seen to your other needs, I may as well feed you too.”

I poked him in his smooth, bare chest. “No dog food, please.”

“I’ll have you know that’s top quality dog food. It’s good for you. Give you a shiny coat.” He sat up and pulled me up as well.

My nakedness was very apparent as the swells of passion calmed. Clear thought returned. I slid off the bed and reached for my clothes scattered about the room.

“There’s no dress code for dining at my house.” Dale came to stand next to me. He tugged my clothes from my arms, where I had bunched them to cover myself.

“It’s cold.” Now that we weren’t huddled against each other, a chill settled over me.

“I can fix that.” Dale pried my clothes from me and tossed them back onto the floor where he had dropped them before. He pulled me into an embrace and kissed me until heat radiated inside me. The simple brush of his lips caused volcanic eruptions in my core. My blood steamed in my veins as I kissed him back with more fervor than I thought I had left.

Dale stepped back from me for a moment and sat on the edge of his bed, shaking his head.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“All right?” He met my gaze, his eyes like polished emeralds. “I’m freaking wonderful. I’m so glad you’re here, Alanna.” He took my hands in his. “I haven’t had an experience like that”—he motioned over his shoulder to the bed—“ever.”

I cupped his face in my hands and dropped a kiss on his forehead. He rested his head on my stomach and caressed my nipple with his index finger. Again, my stomach protested in hunger, and Dale placed his palm over it.

“Okay, okay. We heard you.” He planted a kiss on my stomach and inched me back so he could stand. His ass looked fantastic as he padded to the closet. He pulled two green robes from a hook on the back of the closet door. He donned one, sloppily tying it around his waist and held the other one open for me to slip into.

“You own two identical robes?” I tied the robe closed and relished the scent of him that lingered around the collar.

“I don’t enjoy doing laundry, so sometimes I buy doubles of things I wear a lot. That way I don’t have to wash as often. Lazy, I know.” He held his hands out sheepishly, turning his charm to ultra-high, nearly lethal. “C’mon. Let’s get some food in you.”

We made our way back to the kitchen. While Ram’s famous grilled chicken soup warmed on the stove, I buttered a couple slices of bread, and Dale built a fire in the living room. We were on the couch, satisfying our appetites in front of a roaring fire in no time at all.

The fireplace spanned floor to ceiling and wall-to-wall. Rounded river rock encompassed the entire far wall of the great room, making me feel as if we were outside. Pine paneling like the bedroom covered the other two walls and instead of a fourth wall, the living room spilled into the dining room. The table in there looked as if its top had been sliced directly from a tree, and it rested on four thick birch trunks. A bench lined one side, two wooden chairs on the other.

“Did you make that table?”

“Dad and I did. I hardly eat at it, though. I usually eat in that chair over there.” He pointed to a cushiony recliner opposite a sizable TV. “Or at Ram’s Den.”

“I usually eat on my couch while I’m working,” I said. The soup and Dale’s robe warmed me so well the thought of prancing around naked didn’t seem as foolish any more.

“Something about sitting at a dining room table alone doesn’t feel right.” Dale took a speculative drink of the wine he had poured for both of us.

“I know what you mean.” We both shot a glance toward the table. If I sat there with him, it would feel more than right. Probably feel perfect. An image of my apartment in New York flashed into my mind. I had to go back in nine days. I would sit alone to eat my dinner. I didn’t want to feel the loss I would feel if I sat at Dale’s table with him now. I had to protect myself. I was falling fast, and it was foolish. We’d had sex. That was all. No big deal. It wouldn’t go any further than this.

I sipped my wine and finished the last of Ram’s delicious soup. Everything that man cooked tasted divine. Dale and I cleaned up from our meal, and as I dried our soup bowls, I rested my back against the kitchen counter. Gypsy and Zynk were curled together in a huge basket in the corner of the room. A pile of limbs and fur. I couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended.

“They look comfortable.” I put the bowls away in the cupboard Dale had indicated. He turned to look at his dogs.

“Peas in a pod, those two.” His eyes softened as he watched them, their sides moving rhythmically with each slumbering breath.

“They mean a lot to you.”

“They’re family. I’ve raised those two since they were pups.” He shot me a smile that made my knees a little wobbly. “And Gypsy here, she’s my Guardian Angel.”

“Gwen at the library mentioned Gypsy saved you.”

“That she did.” Dale let the water in the sink drain, and then he led me back into the great room to the fire. We sat across from one another on the fluffy rug in front of the hearth.

“I’ve run in other races besides the Iditarod. In one of them, my sled and two of my wheel dogs fell into thin ice, me along with them.”

My hand flew to my mouth at the thought of getting wet in the middle of an Alaskan winter. Dale took my hand in his and stroked it.

“Yeah, it was exactly as cold as you’re imagining it to be.” He shivered as the memory of it came back to him. “The shock of the water temperature paralyzed me. I couldn’t pull myself out. I couldn’t think. I struggled to hold the towline, and the two wheel dogs howled like crazy.”

Dale took a breath and pulled his robe tighter around him. I shifted closer, wanting to warm him. He patted the rug between his legs, and I backed into his waiting embrace. The feel of his breath on the back of my neck gave me goose bumps. He scooped my hair out of the way and kissed my exposed neck. I pushed back against him, attempting to get closer, and his arms tightened around me.

“Gypsy somehow gnawed through her harness at the front of the team,” he continued. “She bit onto my jacket and pulled me from the water. Pulled the other two dogs by their collars. I managed to hoist the sled and roll onto it with the wheel dogs. Tugging the towline with her teeth, Gypsy and the team pulled us into a small town where we got help.”

“You could have died.”

“Escaped with frostbite in these two fingers.” He wiggled the pinky and ring finger of his left hand. “I don’t have any feeling in either of them and—” He directed my attention to his left foot. “Notice anything wrong there?”

I’d been too busy enjoying other parts of his naked body earlier to notice any irregularities in the overall masterpiece, but there it was...or wasn’t. “You’re missing a toe!”

“The little guy didn’t make it. Turned as black as night and had to be removed. Pretty gross, huh?”

“There’s nothing gross about you, Mr. Iditarod.” I turned my head and brushed my lips against his.

“I’m not perfect. Not like you.” He massaged my shoulder with his strong hand, and I was so in danger of losing consciousness under his touch.

“I’m not perfect.” I giggled when his slight beard tickled my neck.

“I don’t see anything out of place. And, believe me, I checked. Thoroughly.”

“Right here.” I lifted my chin so he could see underneath. “See it? Two snakelike scars?”

Dale squinted in the dim light of the fire and the single lamp he had on in the living room. He ran his finger along the underside of my chin.

“Oh, yeah. I feel it. What happened?” He covered the scars with his lips, and I lost my ability to speak for ten whole seconds.

When I recovered, I said, “ATVing accident.”

His look of concern morphed into one of amusement. “Like speed, do ya?”

“Uh-huh. I was buzzing through rough terrain when I hit a hole. Flipped the whole damn ATV over on top of me. I slammed face first to the ground where a sharp rock impaled my chin.”

“Ouch.” Dale’s eyebrows lowered in sympathetic pain.

“Worst physical pain I’ve ever felt. Needed plastic surgery to put things back where they belonged.”

“Now that’s gross.” Dale maneuvered me around so my bottom was in his lap. “They did a good job though. You look wonderful to me.”

He loosened the belt on my robe and slipped his hand inside to caress my breast. The fire’s heat and his massaging touch hypnotized me. I was more relaxed than I had been in years.

A piece of my brain, though, didn’t quit. That nagging piece that refuses to throw logic out the door. That responsible piece that brings order to blissful chaos.

“Dale, I should…” His lips silenced me as he nipped at the back of my neck, his hand still exploring beneath my robe. I grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Dale, I should get back to my hotel.”

A groan rumbled from his throat as he turned my head and kissed me. He maneuvered the robe off my shoulder. “Too bad there’s no one to take you back.”

Chapter Twelve

Something wet touched my nose. Something wet and furry. I opened one eye, but then clamped it shut when a pink tongue sloshed across my cheek.

“Gypsy.”

She woofed softly, her blue eyes bright in the sliver of sunlight streaming across the bed. I scratched her muzzle as she burrowed closer to me. Unfortunately, Gypsy was my only company. Both robes were draped over the foot of the sleigh bed and that conjured delightful images of a naked Dale on the loose somewhere in the house.

“I have to get up, Gypsy.” I gave the dog a final pat before slipping from the blankets. As I searched the room, gathering my discarded garments from the night before, a laugh from the doorway startled me. Dale leaned against the threshold, fully clothed in gray sweatpants and a green, long sleeved T-shirt that said I Live to Sled across the front.

“Cute.” I pointed to the shirt.

“Thanks. My nephews gave it to me when I won.” He looked at the shirt. “I suppose the sentiment is true, but—” He crossed the room to stand in front of me, pushing aside my clothes to capture me in his arms. “I’m beginning to see there’s more to life than sledding.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Fortunately, Dale’s lips kept me from saying anything. I wasn’t being smart about this whole thing. Totally unlike me. I usually reasoned everything out. Proceeded step by planned step. I couldn’t seem to do that where Dale was concerned. It felt as if I’d known him my entire life. Everything was so comfortable with him.

I needed to talk to Meg. She would know what to do.

“You okay?” Dale’s voice brought me back to the present.

“Yep,” I said, maybe too enthusiastically.

“Good. The shower is yours. Get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast. I went all out.” He beamed from ear to ear, and I melted a little more inside.

Get a grip, Cormac. Jeez!

“It smells good,” I said. You smell good.

“That’s because it is good.” He tapped my nose with his index finger and pivoted on his bare heel. I had to take several deep breaths before I could make my way to the bathroom. I was unraveling. Fast.

I wandered to the upstairs bathroom—another gorgeous room in this gorgeous house owned by a gorgeous man. Slate tiles in varying shades of gray and maroon covered the floor, halfway up the walls, all of the shower stall, and encased a Jacuzzi-style tub. An old-fashioned tin basin sat in a dark wooden barrel and beneath a pewter faucet to serve as a sink. Long bundled twigs surrounded a rectangular mirror hanging above the sink. Plush maroon towels hung on two hooks next to the shower. Two matching mats covered the floor in front of the shower and at the base of the wooden barrel sink. A wooden, armoire lined the wall opposite the shower and tub. In a private corner of the bathroom, the royal throne awaited guests, but even it looked rustic.

The shower water cleared my head a bit, and as I dressed I made some decisions. First of all, I was in Alaska to write a career-changing article, not fall ridiculously in love with a musher, perfect as he was. Secondly, at the end of the two weeks—such a short time—I had to go back to New York, back to my life there. One that possibly involved a sizable promotion and boundless career opportunity. Finally—and this one made my insides hurt—I could not spend any more time with Dale.

It would have been an accomplishment if I’d stood firm by those decisions, but as soon as I walked into the kitchen where Dale flipped a pancake as if he were born to do that very thing, my resolve went to hell.

“Impressive.” I sat at the high barstool behind the kitchen island as Dale slid the pancake onto his plate.

“Me or the pancake?” As he blinked, his lashes kissed his cheeks.

“Both.”

His lips curled up as he poured orange juice into two glasses and set them in front of the plates. He shut off the griddle and sat on the barstool next to me.

“Blueberry syrup? Made it myself.”

I slid my plate over to him, and he drowned my pancakes in the blue-brown syrup. It oozed over to a mound of scrambled eggs and two fresh strawberries.

“Enough?” Dale asked.

“Is there such a thing?”

“My thoughts exactly.” He let an extra dab dribble from the mason jar before dousing his own plate with the syrup.

My hunger surprised me. Then again, I’d exerted more energy yesterday hiking through Denali and romping with Dale—several times—last night, so a little refueling was in order.

As we ate, a small TV under one of the kitchen cabinets broadcast the morning news. Probably should be paying attention to it, because I was supposed to be getting the complete Alaskan experience while I was here. I paused in my eating long enough to hear the weather, a story about a moose attack, and that Fairbanks police were hunting down a killer.

“At least you know it wasn’t me.” Dale elbowed me as he drank the last of his juice.

“Do I?” I looked at him with mock suspicion.

“I was with you all night, Alanna.”

“I’m a heavy sleeper. Especially after trekking through the wilderness and, well…after our other activities.” I nudged his bare feet with my own. “You could have left me in that warm, comfortable bed, snoring with Gypsy for a couple hours last night and killed several people. How would I know?”

“I’m not a serial killer.” He kissed me, his lips tasting like blueberry syrup, before he carried our dishes to the sink.

“This syrup could be poison.” I held up the mason jar as if studying it in the light.

“I used it too, Alanna.” He rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, looking adorable in his sweatpants, all comfy and soft.

“A trick.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Dale tugged on my wet hair and brought his lips to my ear. “If I were a serial killer, I’d spare you, so stop worrying.”

The only thing that worried me was what I was feeling for him.

****

On the ride back to Moose Point, we learned from the radio that four bodies had been found over the course of the last three days. All of them stripped naked and left on the banks of the Chena River. The victims were women in their late twenties to early thirties. Each of them had been strangled and marked with a tattoo on the forearm. A wolf head with a ferocious, gaping jaw and blood-soaked teeth.

“How awful,” I said.

Dale tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You should be careful while you’re here, Alanna.”

“I’m from New York, Dale. I’m always careful.” I dug in the pocket of my jeans. “Besides, Meg gave me this, so I’m all set.” I held up the multi-tool as if it were a dragon-slaying sword.

“Not enough,” he said. “You really should have an around-the-clock bodyguard.” The dimple in his cheek appeared as his lips curved.

“Have someone in mind for that particular job?” I nudged his arm and slid the multi-tool back into my pocket.

“Of course.”

“I can’t spend all my time with you.” Damn, I wanted to, though. “I have to write my article.”

The pout on his lips actually made me think twice about what I’d said. Who was I? Where did workaholic Alanna go? She’d better get her ass back here. I couldn’t afford to drop the ball now. Not this close to a promotion.

When Dale pulled into the parking lot in front of the hotel, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car. One, I was freaked about the dead bodies, and two, I was going to miss Dale.

“You know,” Dale began, “you’re the one who insisted on coming back here to work. I wanted to keep you with me all day.”

I scowled at him but was angry at myself. My focus had abandoned me.

“I’ve got to write this article, Dale. It’s already Wednesday.”

“No,” he said calmly, though his hand clenched the steering wheel. “It’s only Wednesday.”

Saying good-bye to him was going to suck.

“I want to write while Denali is fresh in my mind.” I angled against the truck door to face him. “As it is the memory of the park is fading, due to other, more sensual memories crowding my mind.”

Dale’s dimple enchanted me. “I’d say I was sorry, but…”

“You’d be lying,” I finished.

He nodded, an impish gleam in his eyes.

“Come over tonight?”

He looked at me so hopefully, I couldn’t say no. Okay, okay. I didn’t want to say no.

“Sure. What time?”

“Any time you’re done working.” He made quotation marks with his fingers. I swatted at him. He caught my wrist and brought my hand to his lips. “I’ll be home all day. Got more things to do around the house, and the dogs need exercise.”

His right arm, still braced, rested against his thigh. During breakfast he had cradled it in his lap.

“Take it easy, okay? I don’t want anything to impair your performance later.”

He struggled to swallow. “You’re a vixen, Gaia-girl,” he said.

Ha! Me, a vixen. Wait until Meg heard that one. She’d be so proud.

When I walked by the front desk of Moose Point, Bear looked as if he hadn’t moved an inch since I’d left. His feet were slung over a small table, his nose still buried in a newspaper. He didn’t see me pass on my way to the stairs. Didn’t see me look at the mud caked on his boots. Didn’t see me wonder where he’d been last night while a young woman died at the hands of a lunatic.

I pushed open the door to my room and dumped my bag onto a chair. I went back to the door and locked it, but that one lock and flimsy chain didn’t seem like enough to keep an intruder out. And why was it so quiet at the resort? Where was everyone? Why hadn’t I stayed with Dale?

Dale. I shrugged out of my coat, flopped onto the bed, and focused on the beamed ceiling. How had I let things get to this point? In New York I’d never thought about needing someone to protect me. Living in the city, I figured if someone was going to get me, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was always careful and ready to kick and scream should I be attacked. Here, in Alaska, however, I’d grown soft. Dale had jumpstarted my dead engine, and I was thinking about things besides my solitary existence, besides work. Things that involved coming home at the end of the day and having someone waiting for me at home. Someone who wanted to protect me, to love me.

“Shit.” The word echoed in the room, and I let it hang there while I closed my eyes. In the darkness behind my lids, Dale’s face came into crystal-clear focus. Every freckle, every whisker, the dimple that drove me wild. I wanted all of it.

“You’re being stupid, Cormac,” I warned myself. “You’ve gotten in too deep, too fast. Clear your head. Get to work.” A lovely pep talk.

I rolled to sitting and dug out my laptop. While it powered up, I found my notebook and camera. Work. That would keep me from fantasizing for a little while. Nothing like a deadline to bring reality to the forefront.

I pulled out a bottled water and stationed myself at the small desk in the room. I checked my email first to find a message from the governor confirming our interview appointment and four messages from Meg amongst the junk emails.

mpetrisi:

OMG! You found Iditarod Hunk? He’s a stud, isn’t he?

mpetrisi:

Where did you go for dinner? What did you eat? Is he gorgeous?

mpetrisi:

You’re killing me, Cormac! I NEED DETAILS!!!

mpetrisi:

Alanna? He’s a serial killer, isn’t he? You’re dead, aren’t you?

Though I pulled stomach muscles cracking up over Meg’s emails, it was rotten to leave her hanging like that. I got up and rummaged around in my purse until my hands closed around my cell phone. After dialing Meg’s work number, I uploaded my Denali pictures while I waited for her to answer. Scrolling through the shots, my eyes focused on a picture of Dale and the dogs. Even in two dimensions, he looked tasty.

“Damn.”

“That’s a fine way to greet your best friend, Cormac.” Meg’s voice blared through the phone. “Glad to hear you’re not killed.”

The cool contempt in Meg’s voice was not believable in the least. She couldn’t stay angry at me. “Sorry, Meg.” My sincerity wasn’t believable either.

“Sorry for making me worry, or sorry for making me imagine all the sexual positions you’ve enjoyed with Iditarod Guy?”

And just like that, the two of us burst into laughter.

“Details. Now,” Meg commanded around a chuckle. “Don’t leave anything out.”

When I finished my tale, Meg was speechless for a good thirty seconds, which is an incredibly long time for her to be quiet. She cleared her throat.

“Hot damn, Alanna! Good for you. A promotion and a guy. Not a bad deal.”

“I don’t have the promotion yet,” I said. “And I don’t get to keep the guy.” I couldn’t keep him. It wasn’t going to work.

“The promotion is yours. I know it. And don’t eliminate the possibilities with Mr. Iditarod,” Meg said. “Enjoy yourself. You deserve it. You work hard and now is your chance to play hard. Or at least play with something hard and muscled.”

She was right. Of course she was. Practical Alanna, however, couldn’t help but look three steps ahead and see the negative.

“I’m…Meg, I’m—”

“Afraid.”

I let a long huff escape from my lungs. “You know me too well.”

“From what you’ve said, this Dale character looks like a good find.” She paused for a moment. “Wait. A. Minute. Yum, kid. I searched for him online while we’ve been chatting. No wonder you’ve fallen under his spell. Ho-ly shit.”

“I suppose he’s cute.”

“Cute? He’s gorgeous, you lucky rat.”

“How’s Matt?”

“Matt who?” Meg giggled. “Matt’s wonderful, but Iditarod Dude is a work of art. Does he look as impressive naked?”

“Meg!” My cheeks and certain other areas burned as I remembered a wonderfully naked Dale lying beside me in his sleigh bed.

“What? If you want me to give you sound advice, sister, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“Oh, Meg, I don’t know what I’m doing.” I rested my chin in my hand and shook my head.

“None of us ever do, Alanna,” Meg said, surprising me. She always looked as if she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to men. “We try people out. If they manage to make us laugh, make us feel good, then great. If not, we move along to somebody else.”

“That simple, huh?”

“Not at all.” Meg chuckled. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

“What would you do?”

“Me?” Meg said. I pictured her biting at her bottom lip as she often did when she was thinking deeply. “I would ride the wave for as long as it lasts and see what happens. Either he’ll do something stupid that will make it easy to leave next Friday…or you’ll have the greatest two weeks you’ve ever had in your life. Who knows what else could happen? Anything’s possible.”

“And nothing’s for sure.”

“You got that right.”

“Thanks, Meg.”

“Anytime.”

We chatted about work, my story, and Matt. Deeming ourselves up to date, we said good-bye, and I promised to call in a few days. Calmness washed over me after I hung up the phone. I was a little more centered after talking to Meg.

Meg. Another reason I had to go back to New York. She was my best friend. I needed her. I liked to think she needed me too.

I wrote for several hours, getting lost in my research notes and photos and completely missing lunch. Normal for me. Eating took second place when I was composing one of my masterpieces. This article was destined for greatness. I was sure of it. Then again, the Alaskan landscape and a certain sled dog racer had inspired me.

When my legs cramped from sitting so long, I indulged in a few yoga positions, stretching out the stiffness. I padded over to one of the huge windows in the room that overlooked the glorious pines surrounding the back of Moose Point. Deciding I had made good progress on my article, I donned my hiking boots and jacket. A walk in the woods might stimulate new ideas. A walk in the woods might also prove to myself I hadn’t completely abandoned my New York toughness. Only a badass, city-savvy chick would boldly stroll in the woods when news of a serial killer dominated local television. Right?

I slipped out the back door of the lobby and took a deep breath of the cool afternoon air. That simple gesture kick-started my system. I navigated my way down the steps. My boots crunched in the little patch of snow at the bottom. Another set of footprints snaked their way into the pines, and I thought of turning around. I pushed that thought away as I fingered the multi-tool in my pocket. Deciding I’d never let the resort out of view, I followed the trail. Whoever made the prints was alone. They led to a running stream, one that hadn’t frozen over due to its fast flowing water. On a large boulder on the bank of the stream sat a man…with a baseball cap.

The strap of a camera crossed his back, and the notebook I had seen under his arm before was on his lap. His hand moved rapidly over the page, and I hated to interrupt him, but I had to know if he was a writer. I hated to miss an opportunity to talk shop.

A twig snapped beneath my boot, and the man’s head whipped around. So much for peeking over the guy’s shoulder as I’d planned.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I walked toward him when he smiled. A nice smile. All his teeth seemed to be in order.

“No problem.” He closed the notebook and stood. He towered over me by at least a foot and a half. I wasn’t used to feeling so small next to someone. “You’re staying here, right?”

“Yes.” I took a step closer and extended my gloved hand. “I’m Alanna Cormac from Gaia magazine.”

“Brian Turner, Expedition Earth.”

My hand got lost in his oversized grip. His rust orange, heavy-duty coat made him look as if he were planning to spend the night outdoors. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but the rest of his face seemed friendly enough. Smooth, clean-shaven jaw. Aristocratic nose. Cheeks pinked with the cold.

“Expedition Earth is what got me into writing about nature,” I gushed. “I have copies of that magazine from the late ’60s onward.”

“I’ve only worked there for about five years, but it is a great magazine.”

“Are you a writer or a photographer?” The camera dangling around his neck looked like an expensive piece of equipment.

“Both. You?”

“Same. I’m doing a piece on Denali. Might get me a promotion from this one.” I puffed out my chest.

“There certainly is enough material to work with in Denali.”

“A photographer’s dream.” My first thought was of Dale on film, however, not any of the wildlife I had captured.

“How much longer are you in Alaska?” Brian reached down and dusted snow off his rather large boot.

“The rest of this week and all of next. You?”

“Same actually. Maybe we could swap notes?”

“Sure.” I wouldn’t mind getting some feedback from someone who worked for a prestigious magazine like Expedition Earth. “Good luck with your story.” I edged away to continue my walk.

“And to you as well.” Brian waved as he headed in the other direction back to the hotel.

After giving Brian’s back a final glance, I trudged onward, following the stream as it meandered through the snow-covered woods. A tranquil silence hugged the trees. No cell phones ringing. No cars honking horns at pedestrians. No sirens screaming in pursuit.

Instead, the stream gurgled softly. Snow shuffled from tree boughs. Wings fluttered high in the treetops.

Walking alone in nature’s quiet serenity in the most picturesque state I’d ever visited, I realized why I worked for Gaia. Writing stories about nature forced me to connect with the Earth even in the middle of a busy, crowded, and often dirty city like New York. Gaia allowed me to stay in touch with that little girl who loved to dig in the dirt in her backyard in upstate New York. The magazine allowed me to play.

I stopped for a few moments to sit on a fallen log and enjoy my surroundings. Though I was warm from walking, the cold nipped at my nose and cheeks. Without Dale, I couldn’t get that internal heat going on my own.

“That’s enough of a break, Cormac.”

I retraced my steps back to the hotel. This time I earned a nod of acknowledgement from both Bear and Brian as they chatted at the front desk. I hesitated for a moment. The way Brian casually leaned against the counter suggested he didn’t see Bear as a threat. Why should I? Brian looked as if he could hold his own against a man like Bear. As long as he was around, either as a protector or a witness, then I could stop and ask a question.

“Bear, do you know of a good bakery nearby?”

“Yep.”

I rolled my eyes. Why did every conversation with this man seem like a visit to the dentist? Was he afraid to say too much?

“Could you tell me where it is?”

Brian cuffed Bear’s arm. “Bear, help the lady out, will you?”

Bear scowled at Brian but then focused his tired eyes on me. “Two streets over, tear to the left. Sikik’s Sweets. That’s where you’ll find the best goods.”

Brian nodded. “I went there this morning for breakfast. Apple cinnamon croissant like none other.” He put his hand over his heart and pretended to swoon.

“Great. Thanks.”

I twirled around and bounded up the stairs. I added a couple details garnered from my walk and finished up for the day. Then I shot a quick email to Meg.

acormac:

Going to Dale’s. Taking your advice. Will go with the flow and enjoy his body…I mean his company. ☺

As I was going to shut down my laptop, another message on my personal email caught my attention.

sled-dog16:

I changed my mind about casual nudity in Fairbanks. Too cold or not, I’m all for it. Can’t wait to see you (naked) tonight.

Heaven help me.

I fumbled with shutting down my laptop, tidying the room, and deciding what to bring with me to Dale’s. Unfortunately, he had already seen my one set of naughty underwear. Nothing but floral prints left in my suitcase now. Oh, how I hoped he liked flowers.

After tossing a small bag into the Explorer, I started the engine, but a rectangular square of paper flapping in the breeze under the windshield wiper caught my attention. I opened the door and grabbed it. Back in the driver’s seat, coaxing the heat to hurry the hell up, I unfolded the paper.

Alanna,

Directions to my house. I couldn’t help but notice you were watching me during the entire drive back to the hotel instead of paying attention to where we were going. Who can blame you?

See you later,

Dale

The rest of the note gave turn-by-turn directions from the hotel to his house.

Seeing more of Dale was stupid, but sometimes you just have to go ahead and be an idiot.

Chapter Thirteen

“What’s in the box?”

“Nice to see you too.” I waved the box beneath Dale’s nose, taunting, teasing.

He took it from me and placed it on the kitchen island. Then he backed me against the refrigerator, and his lips were on mine quicker than I could register what was happening. My entire body—every inch of it—shot awake.

I matched his fervor, hungry kiss after hungry kiss. The taste of him extinguished the longing that had built all day. My hands slithered into his hair. Soft. Full. Dale groaned and pressed his body firmly against mine. His arms slid inside my coat to wrap around my waist and pull me closer.

I worked my lips around Dale’s whiskery chin and down his neck. His body went slack against mine as I explored the rim of his ear with my tongue.

“Holy shit,” he rasped.

“Don’t care what’s in the box now, do ya?” I purred into the crook of his neck.

“Not really, no.” He stepped back to look at me, his eyes a hypnotic green. Blinking slowly, he shook his head. “Let me take your coat.”

“Oh, the manners have kicked in now.” I poked him in the chest.

“Sorry. Hormones take precedent over manners when it comes to you.” Dale tugged my coat from my shoulders. He hung it on a hook by the door next to his. I stared at the two jackets for a moment, liking the look of them side by side.

Gypsy and Zynk galloped after one another into the kitchen. They skidded to a halt and tumbled into one another when they saw me. Gypsy righted herself and nipped at Zynk’s neck as if to tell him, “Knock it off. We have company.”

She trotted over and pressed her muzzle against my thigh, her blue eyes sparkling. Zynk did the same and then licked all the fingers of my left hand before sitting back on his haunches next to Gypsy.

Staring at my soaked fingers, I couldn’t cringe at the disgusting state of my hand. Dale’s dogs, the two closest to him, had accepted me and shown me affection. That overruled any innate instinct to immediately wash off the slobber.

“They say animals can sense things about people we humans don’t pick up on. I’d say you’ve bewitched these two.”

“Maybe I’m fixing to bewitch you.” I used my scarf to lasso Dale. He allowed me to catch him, and when I tightened the slack, his body was right where I wanted it.

“Maybe you already have.” He set me on fire with his lips once more, using them to stimulate every nerve ending at once. He was a skilled explorer, traipsing confidently along my skin. My leg rubbed possessively along the length of his. His hand skimmed my thigh, and he pulled me closer still. The fingers of his other hand coiled in my hair.

Pine and citrus, mixed with…what was that? Another fragrance. Something like…

“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 steadily. 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 pointed. 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.

Again, the landscape awed me. Pine and birch trees huddled in groups, silently watching over the unspoiled wilderness. Crystal clear blue sky above us met pristine white snow beneath us. I filled my lungs with the crisp air. Would I ever enjoy a walk in New York City after this? Home would be an overcrowded, stifling, asphalt jungle compared to the unfettered nature that roamed free and clear in Alaska. Traveling by car—even a hot sports car, which I usually enjoyed—couldn’t even come close to dogsledding with Dale.

With Dale.

He made everything better. My solitary life in New York closed me off from the possibilities of sharing my life with someone. I couldn’t keep denying myself the love I needed to make my life mean something. Work gave my life purpose, but it didn’t fill all my needs.

I had only just met Dale so I wasn’t going to be ridiculous and say I loved him. Not yet. Not out loud. I did love being with him, however. No sense in keeping that fact from myself.

I’d be an idiot to not want Dale. On the other hand, I was an idiot to want him.

“What time do you have to be back at Moose Point?” Dale asked as we mushed over a little hill of snow.

“My interview with the governor is at 4:30.”

“We should probably head back,” Dale said. “It’s already 2:00, and it’ll take a little while to detach and settle the dogs.”

I leaned so my backside pressed against Dale’s front. “I’m having a wonderful time, Dale.”

“Me too.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m glad you like mushing.”

“What would have happened if I’d hated dogs? What if I were strictly a cat person?”

“I would have been able to sniff that out through your early emails, and our correspondence would have come to an abrupt end.”

“No dogs, no you, huh?”

“Nope. We come as a pack. Some women can’t accept that.” His hold around me loosened as he waited for me to say something. When I didn’t, he let out a breath, tightened his arms again, and nuzzled his chin against my shoulder.

“Come haw,” Dale called. At his command the dogs U-turned to the left so we could start on the return trip. He definitely was the pack leader, though Gypsy was a close second. The other dogs matched her pace and responded to the changes in direction she made. They functioned as a unified team. If only humans worked so cooperatively.

“When did you go on your first sled ride?” I asked. I wished my first hadn’t been when I was twenty-eight. Something else I’d waited too long for.

“I was ten and my sister asked for a sled ride for her birthday instead of having a party. My parents conceded, figuring it’d be easier than planning a party for a thirteen year old. We went to Denali, arranged for a sled ride, and I fell in love with it. My father will tell you he got me started on my—what’s he call it? Oh, yeah. Path to Victory.”

I thought of Ram taking credit for Dale’s interest in mushing. “Your father’s a hoot.”

“He’s insane.”

“That’s what I like about him.”

“I think he likes everything about you,” Dale said. “Before you came over last night, he called me and asked if that ‘New York Goddess’ was coming over.”

“Goddess!” I doubled over in laughter. When I bent forward, my bottom lined up perfectly against Dale.

“Oh, man…” he groaned. “Even with layers of snow pants between us, you have the ability to tantalize my sensitive areas.”

“I let nothing stand in my way,” I said around a giggle.

“That’s what I like about you. You’re determined.”

“No obstacle too big.”

“Whoa,” Dale yelled, making all the dogs stop along with the sled.

“Umph—” Breath escaped from my lungs as my stomach careened into the sled handles and the weight of Dale crashed into me. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Dale tugged on my shoulder to turn me around. “All this talk of you being unstoppable is turning me on.” He pulled up his goggles and did the same to mine. “Perfect.” His lips crushed down onto mine.

Though his nose was cold against my cheek, his mouth was blazing hot. He gave, and I took. My lips parted, accepting what he offered. Each taste of him brought me deeper under his intoxicating spell. Wrapping his arms around my bulky coat, Dale pulled me closer to him, and, once again, I had the unquenchable urge to strip. It didn’t matter we stood in the middle of an open snowy field with a frosty wind sifting around us. He had raised my core temperature with the heat of his desire. He was a flame to my wick, and every time he touched me, tasted me, I burned a little brighter.

When he pulled away, his eyelids drooped at half-mast. “Is it possible to overload one’s senses?” he asked, feigning exhaustion.

“I was going to ask you the same question.” I raised his chin so his eyes met mine. “I probably don’t want the answer to this, but where did you learn to kiss like that?”

Dale grinned—the sexiest one yet—and straightened to his full height. I had to raise my head to maintain the eye contact. That alone had my insides fluttering.

“You don’t learn skills like that, Alanna.” Dale exhaled a heavy breath and stepped off the runners. “You’re born with them.”

Laughter bubbled out of me, and Dale joined in after he did his best manly pose. One foot on the sled basket, his elbow resting on his bent knee.

“Many thanks to your Creator. She did a lovely job on you.”

He walked over to the back of the sled. “She got a lot right on you too.” He planted another kiss on the tip of my nose and then repositioned his goggles. “C’mon, or we’ll never make it back.”

“I’m not exactly opposed to being stuck out here with you.” I stepped back onto the runners, and Dale got on behind me.

“Don’t tempt me, Gaia-girl.” He grabbed the handles of the sled, his gloved fingers overlapping my own. “I said I wasn’t a serial killer, but I haven’t yet denied I want to kidnap you and keep you all for myself.”

“It’s only kidnapping if the victim doesn’t go willingly.”

His husky laughter rippled through me as we got the dogs going again. Dale was no serial killer. That was for certain. Now that I’d actually met him, it was downright silly to think he was a deranged lunatic out on the prowl on the Internet. He didn’t have an evil bone in his perfectly sculpted body. Believe me, I’d looked. Closely.

But someone in Fairbanks was a killer. I couldn’t forget that even though I felt completely safe with Dale. He would never hurt me, physically or emotionally.

With him love was possible. Anything was possible.

****

With the sled and harness back in place in the shed, Dale and I went inside the house with Gypsy and Zynk trailing at our heels.

Dale shed his coat and walked to the refrigerator. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“No. I should get going. It’s already 3:30, and I have notes to get in order before my interview.” I picked up my bag, which I’d set by the front door. A trip upstairs to get it might result in another session of toe-curling sex, so I’d purposely brought it down before we’d left that morning.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” Dale fiddled with the cap on the bottle of water he held.

“Going to miss me?” I swaggered across the kitchen to stand in front of him.

“Terribly.” He managed a half-grin, but it didn’t reach all the way to the dimple in his cheek.

“Good. You’ll probably want to attack me when you see me next then.” I ran my lips over his chin and down his neck.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Dale pushed on my shoulders to separate our bodies.

“I want to give you something to think about while I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll be thinking of you every minute whether you get me all charged right now or not.” He changed his mind and pulled me closer so we were against each other again.

“Boy, those snow pants hid some things, huh?” I said, feeling Dale harden against me.

“You’d better go if you’re going to go. I can’t be responsible if I haul you to my cave and ravage you.” He shifted to lean against the counter behind him, and his fingers gripped the edge of it. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. Hot damn.

“Okay. I’m going.” I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and stepped back to give Gypsy a serious rubbing. She lowered to her belly onto the wide wooden planks of the kitchen floor and let out a satisfied howl.

“You even got her excited,” Dale said.

“I’m talented.” I shot him a wink and walked to the front door, Dale close behind me.

“Listen,” he said before I stepped outside. “Tomorrow night there’s an awards dinner at Ram’s Den. Like all of Fairbanks is going to be there. Do you want to come with me? Dad’s making his chicken wings.”

The hopeful look on his face was irresistible. How could any woman say no to him?

“Would you be the guest of honor?” I fingered the end of his sweatshirt sleeve.

A pink flush washed over his cheeks. “I would be.” He banged the toes of his boots together as he stood at the doorway.

“Count me in. I wouldn’t miss it, Sled-dog.” I rose on my toes to capture his inviting lips with mine.

His arm slipped around my waist as he took the feast I offered. “God, I want to undress you,” he said breathlessly.

“That would make for an interesting interview.”

Dale laughed as I pulled away. I waved at him from the driveway. Gypsy followed me and hopped into my Explorer when I opened the door.

“You can’t come with me, Gypsy.” She sniffed my hair as she sat on the seat and then licked my face sloppily. Dale let out a hoot of laughter.

“Shut up,” I called. “She kisses better than you.”

“Yeah, right,” Dale yelled back from the doorway. “Gypsy, come.” And just like that, the dog gave me a final nuzzle and happily trotted back toward Dale.

As I got in the car, I wondered if he had said, “Alanna, come,” if I too would have trotted back to him.

Chapter Fifteen

My interview with the governor was nowhere near as stimulating as my trip to Denali or my mushing adventure with Dale. I managed, however, to pull a few interesting quotes from the encounter that would hopefully spice up my article. Alone now in my hotel room at Moose Point, I sat in front of my laptop and watched the cursor blink incessantly. Writer’s block was a rare occurrence for me, but tonight I had a huge case of it. Only one reason for it. One tall, muscular, green-eyed reason for it.

I’d been trying for the last hour to get Dale out of my head so I could organize words that made sense together onto the page. I would have levitated with more success. I read and re-read my notes, scrolled through my photographs, but everything about this stupid article reminded me of Dale. Male and female moose in Denali. Man and woman watching moose in Denali. Dale and Alanna watching moose in Denali. Dale and Alanna holding hands, kissing, enjoying each other.

Once the loop started, I couldn’t stop it. Frustrating and pleasurable at the same time. I never let anything get in the way of writing a story. What was my problem?

Letting out a huff, I finally decided to walk to the lobby and back. Maybe the exercise would get the writing juices flowing again. I had to try something before I called Dale and asked to go over. Asked to have my hands all over him.

Shit, the desperation was nauseating.

As I walked down the stairs, I shook my head at what had become of me in five short days in Alaska. I’d gotten a great deal of information for my story, but meeting Dale had turned me into a gushy pile of hormones. Coming to Alaska, writing this article, which could land me a promotion, and meeting a man too good to be true was a lot to enjoy all at once. Not that I was complaining.

A small shiver of doom rippled down my spine. Old habit. When things went well—too well—something dreadful was bound to come barreling around the corner to flatten you.

“Quit it, Cormac.” No reason to get suspicious. Maybe my time for things to go right for a change had arrived.

“Hey, Alanna.”

Brian Turner. A fire roared in the huge fireplace in the sitting room off the main lobby, and papers littered the couch beside him. His laptop lay open on the coffee table along with a bunch of library books. As I approached, I recognized many of them as ones I had buried myself in at the library.

“Hi,” I said. “You look busy.”

“Glad it at least looks that way.” Brian rubbed his palms on the knees of his jeans and pulled down the sleeves of his red sweatshirt. “I haven’t written a word that makes any sense since about three hours ago.” He fiddled with the bill of his baseball cap.

“We share the same affliction.” I sat in the leather recliner facing the fire. The warmth seeped into me, but the flickering flames only reminded me of Dale. Shaking my head, I said, “I’ve got a ton of notes and pictures, but I’m distracted.”

“Yeah,” Brian agreed. “It’s hard to concentrate with so many picturesque things around.”

I let out another chuckle as an image of Dale standing in his bathroom this morning, totally naked, totally delectable, flashed through my mind. Picturesque indeed. When I shifted my gaze to Brian, he was watching me, and I wondered exactly how red my cheeks were.

“Whew.” I fanned my face with my hand. “It’s a lot hotter here than upstairs.” Yeah, sure, Cormac. The fire is making you blush like a schoolgirl. Idiot.

“I thought I’d be able to write better down here,” Brian said around a yawn. “But all it’s doing is making me sleepy.” He slid back on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table as he let his head flop back. He looked so comfortable, sort of snuggly.

“You want to hear about sleepy? I interviewed the governor earlier this evening. What a snooze.”

Brian laughed. “Not a lot of scandal in Fairbanks, huh?”

“Not like New York. I’m not looking for scandal for my article anyway, but a little tidbit of something would have been appreciated. You know, to keep readers reading. Hopefully the pictures will get them to turn the pages. I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“People who read Gaia and Expedition Earth aren’t looking for gossip or political intrigue. They want to get close to nature in the pages of our magazines, in the words of our stories.”

I nodded. “Well said. You’re right. Nature’s exciting enough on her own, isn’t she?”

Brian nodded, then reached for his notebook. He scribbled something, and I raised an eyebrow.

“You made me think of something that could work for my piece.” He put his pencil behind his ear.

“Glad I could help.” I plopped my feet on the coffee table near his and closed my eyes. “Now how are you going to help me?”

“I’m taking a flight above McKinley on Tuesday. Want to go?”

My eyes shot open. “What? Really?”

“Why not?”

“That would be awesome. Who’d you get to take you?”

“Me.”

“You?”

“I’m a licensed pilot. I’ve got a buddy here who owns a couple small planes. Piper PA-18 Super Cubs mostly. Two-seaters, single-engine. Good for getting up close and personal with McKinley’s peaks. He hooked me up. I was going to go alone, but if you want in, you’re welcome to join me.”

“It’d be a unique perspective. Denali from the air.” I coiled my hair around my finger. I didn’t know Brian well, but we had things in common, and this would add a distinctive element to my article. Maybe the hook to get Evelynne to pick me over Hirsh and Zemmans. “Okay. Yes, I’d like to go with you.”

“Great.”

An aerial view of my subject matter would be covering it from all angles. Besides, I might see something I’d missed while I was drooling over Dale instead of watching for wildlife in Denali.

“Thanks, Brian.” I extended my hand to him.

“No problem.” He shook my hand. “You’re not afraid of heights or anything, are you?”

“Nope. The higher, the better.”

“Ah, a daredevil. Wonderful. I won’t disappoint you.” He tipped his baseball cap at me, revealing the jet black, buzz cut that hid underneath the hat. A zig-zag of scalp thunderbolted along the right side of his head. I blinked in surprise. Cut deep into his skull, the scar created a valley of puckered tissue, giving his head a slightly distorted shape. Ice blue eyes looked at me for a second, and the questions that had raced to my lips died. The story behind the scar was a difficult one. His look said that much.

Adjusting the cap back on his head, he forced a smile. “If I don’t see you around, meet me here Tuesday morning, say eight o’clock?”

“Okay,” I said, trying to be polite, but curious just the same. What had happened to him? Did he have a condition of some kind? Should I be flying with him?

Flying over McKinley could mean the difference between promotion and no promotion. I’d come this far. I had to keep going. I reached for his pen and scribbled my cell phone number in the margin of his notebook page. “Here’s my number should anything change. You know, if you decide you don’t want the company or something.”

“I won’t change my mind.” Brian’s face was more relaxed now.

I nodded once. “Thanks again. I appreciate the offer.”

“We writers got to stick together, right?” He pulled his feet off the table and straightened up.

“Right.” I stood, looking around the room for words to end the awkward silence. Wanting to know more about Brian, but also wanting to give him his privacy. “I’ll see you around.”

“Hope so.” He nodded at me and then pulled his computer onto his lap. “Now let’s see if I can vomit up something that doesn’t suck.”

With his joke, the tension eased. I chuckled and turned to go upstairs. “I give you credit, Brian. I’m admitting defeat and going to bed.”

“Good night.”

I waved as I ascended the stairs, though a whole set of questions about Brian now bounced around my head. At least the trip downstairs had scored me a unique opportunity to write the perfect article. McKinley, up close and personal from the air.

This article was going to be so good, Evelynne was going to want to give me her job.

“If you ever get back to writing the stupid article, that is,” I mumbled.

****

Under the quilts, I tossed and turned, unable to settle in and get to sleep. I was hot. I was cold. I was alone. Last night, I had slept like a baby, wrapped in Dale’s embrace, breathing in his scent. Now all I had was the bleachy smell of the sheets beneath me and the sound of my own pulse in my ears.

I whipped the covers off, swung my feet over the side of the bed, and woke my computer.

“If I can’t sleep, neither can you.” After hoping online, I opened my work email and clapped when messages from Meg appeared.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Meg.” I clicked on the first one.

mpetrisi:

Glad you’re taking my advice to enjoy The Musher. I never lead you wrong, do I? Wink, wink.

“You always lead me to the interesting. That much I’ll give you.” I clicked on the second message.

mpetrisi:

Met Matt’s parents tonight. Yikes! Don’t think they knew how to take me. But who does? Besides you.

I pictured what Meg wore to meet Matt’s parents. No doubt something that included thigh-high boots and a short skirt. Though Meg was a sweetheart, her outward appearance suggested anything but that. It got her in trouble most of the time, but that’s the part she enjoyed.

The third message had me gasping in laughter in the darkness of my hotel room.

mpetrisi:

Have your nipples frozen off yet?

Leave it to Meg to be concerned about my nipples. My fingers flew over the keyboard to compose a response. No writer’s block here.

acormac:

Happy to report that my nipples are still intact.

I’m sure Matt’s parents loved you. How could they not? You’re the Great Meg Petrisi. The one and only. (Thank the Goddess!)

An update: Went mushing today. What a rush! Who knew riding on a sled pulled by a pack of dogs could be so erotic? ☺ Dale is unbelievable. Hence the wonderful state of my nipples.

Am going to fly—yes, that’s right, fly—over Mount McKinley on Tuesday. Been invited to Mr. Iditarod’s awards dinner tomorrow night. Busy, busy, busy.

I hit send and was now feeling a bit sleepy. Finally. I shut down my computer and slid back into bed. Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I sighed. 2:46 a.m. Still a lot of hours to fill before seeing Dale.

I mentally ticked off a list of things to do to fill the space between now and tomorrow night. Working on my article was at the top, along with shopping for something to wear to the dinner. That’s all I had. I pulled the covers over my head and shifted for what had to be the thousandth time.

“This is going to be a looong night.” I bit into my pillow to drown out the groan.

****

After a grueling morning of composing parts of my article, word by word, sometimes letter by letter, I left Moose Point in search of a small shopping mall in downtown Fairbanks. Aside from the one suit I’d brought for my interview with the governor, most of what I had with me was heavy-duty hiking clothing. Didn’t plan on having a date—correction, dates—while I was in Alaska. If I were to be Dale’s escort to this awards thing, I should fancy up. Of course fancying up in Fairbanks, Alaska, was probably different from fancying up in New York City.

I wandered into a small dress shop called Aurora Sparkle. No more than a hole in the wall, the store was home to an amazing ceiling painted with the colors of the northern lights. Glitter mixed with the paint and a spotlight shining upward made it all twinkle. I was so enchanted by the mural that I walked into one of the dress racks. Several hangers clattered to the ground, shedding their dresses in the process.

“Oops,” a cheerful voice called from the register. “Don’t worry, love. Happens all the time.”

“Sorry,” I apologized with burning cheeks. “I wasn’t paying attention. That ceiling is sensational.”

“Thanks.” A slender hand with hot pink nails reached in front of me to pick up the dresses. Neon-colored wooden bracelets rattled on her forearm—her completely tattooed forearm. That serial killer wolf tattoo flashed into my mind as I helped clean up the mess I’d made and took in the rest of this chick.

Not much bigger than me in height or weight, she had long, straight, purple hair. Yes, purple. Freckled, pale skin gave her a pixie look, as did the pink tunic-style dress she wore over polka-dotted tights with pointed, calf-high boots. I expected a unicorn to gallop from the back room and sweep her away. No way she could strangle anybody.

“I’m Violet Benolt.” She extended a hand to me.

“Alanna Cormac.” I shook her hand as I put the rest of the dresses back on the rack. Looking up again at the ceiling, I asked, “Did you paint that?”

“Uh-huh. Can’t resist a blank wall.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Have you seen the real thing yet?”

“No.”

“I find it’s best viewed after a romantic interlude with a handsome man.” Violet elbowed me with the boniest elbow I’d ever encountered. “Know any handsome men?”

“Actually…” A flash of heat washed over my entire body.

“Uh-oh. That dopey grin says it all.” Violet raised her eyebrows over two sky blue eyes and put her fingers to her lips. “Out with it. Who is it?”

“Well…” What was I doing? Another person I had met in Alaska to whom I was ready to unload all my personal information. What the hell was up with this place?

“Look,” Violet said, while I mentally battled myself, “I know you’re not from around here. That fancy purse and your rapid walk tell me that much. You’ve probably been emailing your best friend back home, but are in desperate need of a real, live female to whom you can gush about this handsome man. I’m it. Pick me!”

Violet angled her two delicate hands toward herself and then threw her arms wide. “C’mon. What’d ya got to lose, love?”

I shrugged. “You’ve got me all figured out already.”

“It’s a gift of mine.” Violet hopped onto the counter at the register, her boots dangling. “Who is he, and exactly how hot is he?”

Her excitement was contagious and enchanting. Violet put me at ease. She was so right about me dying to talk about Dale to another live female.

“His name is Dale Ram—”

“Ramsden?” Violet’s feet stopped their rhythmic swish back and forth. Her fingers coiled around the edge of the counter top. “Your handsome man is Dale Ramsden, Junior? The Iditarod winner?”

I nodded, enjoying every moment of Violet’s surprise.

“Holy shit, Alanna!” She smacked the palms of her hands on the counter, making me jump out of my skin. “You don’t waste any time, do ya? March into Alaska and stake claim on one of our finest. Dale doesn’t even date. You must be magic or something.” She pointed a finger at me. “Where are you from anyway?”

“New York.”

“Ah, I see. That’s the way things are done over in New York, I’ll bet. See something you like and go ahead and get it, huh?” Violet’s cobalt eyes were wide. “I’ve never been to New York, but I’ll get there someday. I’d bet an artist like me would have a blast there.”

I looked at the ceiling again and through the rest of the artfully designed shop. “New York would absolutely love you.”

Violet beamed and jumped down from the counter. She flung her arms around my neck and squeezed. I backed up, caught off-guard by her unexpected gesture. Hangers rattled behind me as I hit another rack. At my grumble, Violet released me.

“Sorry.” She interlaced her fingers as if to keep them steady. “I often don’t respect people’s boundaries. Forgive me?”

“Sure, Violet. I’ll forgive you if you help me find something that will totally hypnotize Dale. He asked me to accompany him to an awards dinner.”

“Oh, I’ll be there too.” Violet clapped her hands together. “My boyfriend is Dale’s best friend. He’s taking me to the dinner.”

“Great. I like knowing there’ll be another familiar face there.”

“Hard to forget this.” Violet framed her face with her hands. “I like to stand out, but in a good way, you know?”

“Actually, no, I wouldn’t know. I usually do my best to be invisible. Right now I’m looking for something to wear that officially announces the end of my Reign of Invisibility.”

“You’re in luck, love. That’s what I make here.” She fanned her arm out in a wide arc, indicating all the clothing in the shop.

“Wait. A. Minute. Tell me you didn’t make all of this.”

Violet stood, a satisfied tilt to her head.

“Wow, Violet. Impressive.” I fingered the fabric on the nearest dress. “This stuff is one-of-a-kind.”

“That’s what my boyfriend, Vince, says about me. ‘Vi, you’re one-of-a-kind’, he says.”

Violet rolled her eyes, but she was obviously delighted to have people think she was original. She stepped back and looked me over from head to toe.

“Okay, let’s see. About 5’6”, 115 pounds, size 4.” She drummed her fingers on her bottom lip as she narrowed her eyes at me.

I nodded.

“Ram’s Den isn’t exactly fine dining, but I heard Ram is going all out for Dale.”

I warmed at the thought of Ram wanting to celebrate his son’s accomplishment. My dad had been that way with me. Always bursting with pride. Always supportive.

“I know, huh?” Violet’s voice cut into my thoughts.

“What?”

“Ram. He rocks, doesn’t he? That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it? He’s got a way of making you feel totally welcome.”

“He seems to have passed that talent down to his son.” I arched one eyebrow at Violet.

“Oh, really?” She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t get mad at me, but Dale is a feast for the eyes.”

“He’s delicious.”

Violet let out an impish giggle. “I’m glad you are sampling all Alaska has to offer. How long are you here?”

“That’s the trouble.” I let out a long breath. “I only have until next Friday. Not sure how I’m supposed to go back home afterwards.”

“Maybe you are home,” Violet said quietly.

“No. New York is definitely home. I…I don’t belong here.”

A heartbeat of silence hung between us, as if Violet was waiting for me to think more about the notion. I shook my head, and she patted my hand.

“Let’s see about an outfit, shall we?”

She fluttered off, stopping in at various racks like a bee gathering pollen from flowers. Every once and a while, she looked over her shoulder at me, mumbling something to herself before skipping off to another rack. By the time she came to stand in front of me again, her arms were loaded with every color of the rainbow.

“This ought to get you started,” she said, holding the mound. “C’mon. Dressing rooms are this way.”

After about an hour of trying and retrying on outfits, Violet had talked me into a pair of dark blue jeans that fit like a second skin, flaring out at the ankles. A snug black sweater with a deep V-neck and wide sleeve cuffs made me somehow appear to have a more impressive chest than I actually did. Always a plus when you’re trying to seduce. A necklace of black beads from which hung a blue crescent moon charm adorned my throat with a pair of matching moon earrings.

“That ought to do it.” Violet looked me over with approval. “If Dale doesn’t want to unwrap you and have his way with you, then I’ve lost my touch.”

Turning in a circle in front of the three-way mirror, I gave Violet’s reflection two thumbs up.

“I love this outfit.”

“Another happy customer,” Violet announced to the empty store. Her shoulders slumped. “This time of year is hard for the small businesswoman. Things pick up in the summer months.”

“You must need time to resupply and make new stuff.” I changed back into my other clothes.

“Yeah, but I thought I’d have hired folks to work the store by now while I made new pieces. It doesn’t seem to be working out that way though.” Violet looked to her pointed boots. “I’ll bet it works that way in New York.” Her eyes brightened.

“There are tons of people in New York.” I looked around the store as I slipped back into my heavy jacket. “It’s never this quiet. Ever.”

“Maybe someday, I’ll pack up this whole shop and move to New York.” Violet nodded as if she had made a decision and walked around to the other side of the register. “Until then, I’ll have to be content that you are probably my only customer for today.”

“If you ever do move to New York,” I said, fishing around in my purse and extracting one of my cards, “look me up. I know a couple of people who would love the clothes you make.” I thought of Meg. She’d want one of everything Violet had.

Violet took the card and held it with two hands as if it were something valuable. “Thanks, love.” She flashed me a cheery smile as she put the card by the register and folded my purchases.

“So what’s Vince like?” I asked while Violet rang up the items.

“He’s hot,” she started. “Not hot like Dale. A different hot. He’s got jet black hair that stands up in spikes and blue eyes that make me forget who and where I am sometimes.” She giggled as she placed my merchandise in a bag and took my credit card.

“He’s got tattoos too, only on both arms,” she continued, shooting a quick glimpse to her own arm. “He did these, and I did the ones on his left arm.”

I took a closer look at her arm. Three fairies with pale blue wings fluttered around a jade-colored dragon that spiraled from her wrist to under the short sleeve of her dress. “That’s beautiful work,” I said, admiring the clean lines, the vibrant colors, the details.

“Thanks. Vince has got an eye for beautiful things.” She flicked a hand toward herself, causing me to laugh. “You got any tattoos?”

“Uh, no.” I had always liked the look of them, but didn’t have the guts to get one.

“If you want one while you’re here, you let me or Vince know.” Violet returned my credit card and, after I signed my name, she took my hand in hers, pushed up my jacket sleeve, and examined my forearm. “You’ve got a nice canvas here. Be a shame to waste it. Tattoos are meant to add beauty.”

She paused for a moment as she turned my hand around, still looking at my arm. “I get sick when I hear about those women that have been killed recently. It’s not enough some bastard has strangled them, but he’s giving tattooing a bad name on top of it. Branding his kills. It’s disgusting.”

She released my hand, and I stared at my pale, exposed skin. I pulled my sleeve down to hide the goose bumps, but it was too late. Violet had already seen them.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she said. “That we have to be afraid. Vince makes me tell him where I’m going, and he’s told me a million times not to hug random people.” She blushed slightly. “You can see how well that’s going, but I can’t help it. I’m not going to let a whacko keep me from handing out hugs. Besides, I get vibes from people. I think I’d know if someone were a killer.” She shrugged. “What about you? You checking in with Dale?”

“It hadn’t occurred to me to do that.” Okay, it had, but I didn’t have to admit that to her. “Must be the New Yorker in me. If I checked in with somebody every time I heard a news story about a murder, I’d be making calls all day.” All true, so why was I fearful of this killer in Alaska? I’d certainly lived closer to crime more brutal than strangling.

“Maybe you’re just not used to having someone to check in with?” Violet’s blue eyes studied my face.

“Maybe,” I said, gathering my bag. “Thanks for your help, Violet. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You bet. I’ll look for you.”

“Wherever Ram’s chicken wings are, that’s where I’ll be.” I headed for the door. Violet walked around the counter and followed me.

“Wherever Dale is standing is where you’ll be.” She gave me a teasing poke in the arm.

“Can you blame a girl?”

“Nope. When I watched the Iditarod coverage on TV, I said to Vince that Dale was going to win. Vince thought so too. They’ve been friends since they were little. Vince says Dale doesn’t give up on anything.” Violet held my gaze a few seconds longer than was necessary.

“See you later.” I opened the door and stepped out into the street.

“Later.” Violet snapped the door closed against the cold slap of wind. She waved from the windowed door, the late afternoon sun glinting off her purple hair.

I was surprised at the time when I got into my Explorer. Four o’clock. Time enough to shower, obsess over my hair, fuss over my makeup, and hop into my new clothes. The day had progressed more quickly than I’d anticipated, but I owed that to Violet. She had made shopping fun and painless. I couldn’t wait to see Dale’s reaction. Couldn’t wait to have his hands, his lips, his everything on me.

I craved him and that should have bothered me. Why didn’t it?

Chapter Sixteen

By the time I arrived in the parking lot of Ram’s Den, the place was hopping. Cars littered the lot, and people streamed in from all directions. I hadn’t seen that many people all in one location in Fairbanks yet. A little like The Hive in New York only less skin was visible due to the cold and probably an Alaskan sense of decorum.

Shouldering my purse, I walked up the front steps. A huge sign posted above the carved ram’s head on the door greeted me.

Fairbanks Celebrates Its Own Dale Ramsden, Junior, Iditarod Winner

I traced a finger over Dale’s name and his work on the ram carving. My pulse quickened at the thought of him waiting inside. Another couple walked past me to open the front doors. Music and talking gushed out.

How was I going to find him in there? My hands grew clammy in my gloves, and I fiddled with the straps on my purse. I’d grown rather used to walking into crowded places with Meg and then fading into the background somewhere. This flying solo business was hard, but another glance to Dale’s name on the sign had me pulling open the door to be with him.

Inside the tavern, people sat at tables, crammed along the bar, and stood in pockets mingling, talking, enjoying themselves. A boy, about fourteen or fifteen, asked to take my coat. He handed me a ticket, but his eyes zeroed in on the V of my sweater. A pink flush washed across his adolescent cheeks. A successful test. This sweater had possibilities.

I stuffed the ticket into my purse, pulled my hair over to spill across one shoulder, and stepped into the main room of the tavern. Waiters and waitresses fluttered amongst the groups of people, and although I didn’t know most of the patrons, something welcoming hung in the air. All the faces were smiling, all the glasses were filled, and the heavenly smell of Ram’s chicken wings permeated the air.

A hand slid around my waist from behind. I craned my head.

“Hiya, beautiful.” Dale rested his hand on my stomach, and the heat of his palm seeped through my sweater. He brushed his lips along my cheek. I hoped I wouldn’t leave a stain on the floor when I melted to a puddle at his feet.

“Hi.” I managed to turn around in Dale’s hold, and he put his other arm around me. He pulled me in closer, found my lips with his, and gave me a heated kiss hello. For a moment, I forgot about all the other people in the tavern and focused solely on how it felt to be wrapped in Dale’s embrace.

“I didn’t think this moment would ever come.” He stepped back a bit and looked at me.

“Me neither.” I was already lost. The sage sweater he wore over his jeans deepened the color of his eyes, hypnotizing me.

“Do you do that on purpose?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Wear green so your eyes look unbelievable.” I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

“My mother used to dress me in green when I was a kid, and I think the affinity for the color stuck.” Dale shrugged with boyish charm. “I didn’t realize it made my eyes greener.”

“It’s irresistible.”

“This sweater,” he began as his gaze lingered a moment longer on the V above my breasts, “is irresistible and yet…” He bent his head so our foreheads touched. “I want you out of it. Naked. All mine.”

I looked around the tavern. “We have a few hundred people to get rid of first.”

“Damn.”

“But when we do get rid of them…” I licked my lips, and Dale closed his eyes.

He growled, the noise low and sensual. “Sometimes it sucks to be the guest of honor.” Dale caught my lips once more, this time quick and frustrated. It made me buzz inside to know he wanted me so much.

“C’mon. My sister has been giving me the eye since I came over here. If I don’t introduce you to her soon, she’ll kill me.”

He took my hand and weaved through the thick crowd. Several people clapped him on the back as he passed.

“Such a celebrity,” I teased.

“Save your compliments until we’re alone and naked,” he grumbled. “They do me no good now.” He squeezed my hand.

We emerged from the crowd only to be bowled over by three small, identical boys. Two suctioned themselves to Dale’s legs, and one wrapped around mine. Dale reached down to pick up one of them. He let the boy dangle in front of him, while small legs kicked out wildly and high-pitched giggles echoed.

“This one is…let me see.” Dale made a pretense of turning the boy over and around, upside down. “Ah, right. This one is Mick.” He plopped down Mick and picked up the boy holding onto his left leg. “This one is definitely Riley. That’s Noah down there, squeezing the life out of your leg. Say hi to Alanna, boys.”

“Hi!” all three of them shouted at once.

“Hi, boys. Aren’t you all adorable?”

Three grins, all exactly the same, beamed back at me from identical, round faces. Deep brown eyes and neatly trimmed blonde hair made the boys indistinguishable to someone who didn’t already know them.

“Dale,” I whispered, “how do you know who’s who?”

“Uncle Dale has a system,” one of them said. I didn’t know which one he was.

“A system?” I turned my eyes to Dale. “Do share. I’m lost over here.”

“Mick’s got a freckle right here.” Dale pointed to a small brown speck on the boy’s chin. “Riley’s eyes are not as brown as his brothers’.” Dale made circles of his thumbs and index fingers and placed them around Riley’s eyes like a pair of glasses.

Riley didn’t blink as I studied his eyes. They were more golden than the rich, chocolate color of his brothers. Mick and Riley ran back toward a man seated at the table a few feet in front of us.

“And Noah here—” Dale poked the one still holding onto my leg in the ribs.

When the boy giggled, a dimple like Dale’s cratered his left cheek.

“Oh, I see. Noah is the handsome one.” I brushed my finger over the dimple, and Noah tightened his grip on my leg, flashing his dark eyes at me.

“She’s nice, Uncle Dale,” Noah said.

His sweet little face worked its magic on me.

“Pretty too, huh?” Dale knelt to get eye level with his nephew.

“Uh-huh.”

Noah took my hand and tugged me toward his brothers and the man at the table. Dale took my other hand.

“That’s it, you realize,” Dale whispered. “He’s going to fight me for you.”

“Lucky for you, I like tall guys.”

Dale laughed as we reached the table. The man seated there stood and shook Dale’s hand. Although shorter than Dale, he was as solidly built with a disheveled crop of blonde hair and trustworthy brown eyes.

“Jake Hamill, this is Alanna Cormac from Gaia magazine. She’s here doing a piece on Denali. While I’m not monopolizing her time, that is.”

Jake extended his hand. I tried to free my hand from Noah’s grip, but the boy had latched on tightly.

“Sorry about him. He’s a sucker for a pretty gal. Noah, let Alanna’s hand go, okay, buddy?”

Noah pouted and shook his head.

“I told you,” Dale said. “I’m going to have to take him outside. Show him who’s boss.”

I knelt and put my arms around Noah protectively. “You’ll do no such thing.” I gave Noah a squeeze. He snuggled close to me. The feel of his little body cuddled in my embrace stirred something inside me. I quickly buried the sensation before it got out of hand. I’d already lost control of too many emotions in Alaska.

“Oh, he’s laying it on a bit thick,” Dale said. “Quit it, kid.” He tried to pry Noah loose.

I shielded Noah from Dale. Noah’s giggles were like music, the sound so light and free.

“You two fighting over a girl?” a female voice interrupted.

“C’mon, Selia,” Dale whined. “You know it’s his fault.”

“Sure, blame the five year old, Dale. Real mature.” Selia gave Dale a light shove, and he pretended to fall back. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Me?” Dale put his hand to his forehead. He then cradled his braced wrist against his chest and made a face as if he were in agony. “How can you say such a thing when I’m hanging on by a thread here?”

By this time, Noah had loosened his grip on me, and we were both chuckling heartily at Dale’s antics.

“Goof.” Selia rolled her eyes and edged Noah’s hand from mine. Replacing her hand with her son’s, she said, “Hi. You must be Alanna. I’m Dale’s sister, Selia, but if I had a choice…”

“If you had a choice, you’d pick me again as your brother,” Dale finished, catching Mick around the waist as the boy tried to run by. Mick squirmed and wiggled until Dale let him go.

“Yeah, only because my children seem to like you.” Selia chuckled too.

She had Dale’s coloring, but not his size. I had to look down a bit to meet Selia’s hazel eyes. The same chestnut colored hair framed her face in loose waves, and laugh lines like Ram’s and Dale’s edged her eyes.

“Love your sweater,” she said. “Looks like Violet’s work.”

“It is.”

“This one is too.” Selia motioned to the beige sweater she was wearing. Tribal-patterned beadwork rimmed the neckline.

“It’s lovely,” I said.

“Everything Violet makes is lovely.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” another voice joined in.

Violet’s purple hair was twisted into a long braid and tied with a silver scarf. The little black dress she wore could have been considered calm if it weren’t for the silver tights beneath it. Another pair of black boots, this time snaking up to her knees, finished off the look, along with huge silver hoops at her ears. Somehow, though, it all managed to work on her. Meg would love this girl.

“Hey, Violet,” Dale said. “Nice job polishing Alanna.”

“Hey!” I punched him in the bicep.

“What? She ironed out your hard New York edges with that sweater and…those jeans.” His gaze combed down my legs as if he had just noticed the fit and cut of the denim. “Damn, Violet. I owe you.”

Violet kissed Dale on the cheek. “No problem, love.”

“Where’s Vince?” Dale looked around the tavern.

“Your father’s got him back in the kitchen,” Violet said as she kissed Jake and Selia hello.

“Uh-oh. I’d better go rescue him. C’mon, Alanna. I want you to meet Vince.”

I started to follow Dale when a tug on my sweater stopped me.

“Don’t go,” Noah said, his eyes super huge.

Before I could answer, Dale reached down and hoisted Noah onto his shoulder. Noah screeched in delight and several patrons nearby commented on how cute the boy was.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s see what Pop’s got in the kitchen that’s good for tying up little boys.”

Noah squealed again and tried to worm his way free. “Help, Alanna!”

“She can’t help you, Noah.” Lowering his voice, Dale said, “No one can.” He let out a maniacal howl, and Noah shook with laughter as I followed.

Great with dogs. Great with kids. Was there no limit to this man’s charm?

The honey-barbecued aroma that wafted from the kitchen intoxicated me. Jerry and a few other cooks were busy mass-producing chicken wings and other delectable delights. Dale sent Noah back to his mother as we pushed open the doors.

“Dale.” Ram looked up from whatever he was showing the man standing next to him. He folded a paper and slipped it into the breast pocket of his white, button-down dress shirt.

“Hey, Dad,” Dale said. Ram waved but scurried off to a small office at the back of the kitchen.

The black spiked hair and tattooed arms on the man left standing alone could only belong to one person.

“You must be Vince.” I stepped ahead of Dale.

“Yeah.” Vince offered me a smile almost as potent as Dale’s. “How’d you know?”

“I met Violet earlier today, and she described what you looked like.”

“Vince Seymore, this is Alanna Cormac.” Dale rested his hands on my shoulders.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Vince shot a look to Dale.

“Zip it, man,” Dale hissed.

Vince’s lips turned up at the corners. “What did Vi say about me?”

“Something about you being hot, but a different hot than Dale here,” I said.

Both men laughed, the sound of it ringing with true camaraderie. “Yeah, Dale is so not Vi’s type. Too clean cut.”

“I happen to like clean cut.” I scooped my arm around Dale’s waist.

“Lucky for me.” Dale tapped his hip against mine.

Vince whistled. “Oh, you two got it bad.”

“Shut up. You’re not allowed to give me crap about this. I still catch you drooling all over Violet.”

“Guilty as charged.” Vince held up his hands in surrender. “Purple hair drives me wild.” His eyebrows raised and lowered around hazy blue eyes.

“She mentioned she did some of those tattoos.” I pointed to Vince’s arms. Though Vince appeared to be one of those classic “nice guys,” I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to check for wolf tattoos. In fact, any one of the guests in the tavern could be the killer. Nice thought.

Vince pulled the sleeves of his black thermal shirt up past his elbows. He turned his left forearm out toward me. “Yeah, she’s got a talented eye for the details. She did this cobra here. Real work of art.”

Not the branding of a serial killer?

“Love the fangs,” I commented. Bright crimson drops of blood dripped from fangs that looked almost three-dimensional. Scary, but in an artistic way, not psychotic. Probably.

“They’re my favorite too. Been trying to talk this kid into a couple tats, but he’s too much of a wimp.” Vince jabbed a fist into Dale’s bicep.

“I’m not a wimp. I just don’t think you or Violet drawing on me is going to improve what’s already perfect,” Dale replied.

“Humble, ain’t he?” Vince turned and stole a chicken wing off a nearby platter.

“What was Dad saying to you before he ran off to hide?”

“Oh, no. Don’t make me sing like a bird.” Vince licked sauce off his fingertip.

“C’mon. What’s he got planned?”

“Can’t say. Won’t say.” Vince finished off his chicken wing, wiped his hand on a napkin, and headed for the door. “I gotta find Vi.” He turned to me. “Alanna, glad you’re around. Dale here was turning into the male equivalent of an old spinster. He substituted a bunch of dogs for cats, but the story’s the same.”

“Get out of here, man.” Dale cuffed Vince on the shoulder.

“How long have you two been friends?” I asked after Vince left the kitchen.

“Since he moved next door to my parents’ house when I was six. Moving truck pulled up. He jumped out of the cab. Instead of going to his new house, Vince stalked up my parents’ walkway and sat next to me on the front steps. ‘I’m Vince,’ he said. ‘I’m Dale,’ I said, and that was that.”

“Boys have it so easy,” I said as Dale led me through the kitchen toward the little office. “Girls don’t connect that fast. We have to size each other up first, test it out, try on each other’s clothes and shoes.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is. My best friend though was like you and Vince. When I started at Gaia, Meg came into my cube and told me we were going to be friends.”

“She told you?”

“Yep. Meg’s a little…bold.” The best word I knew to describe her. She didn’t fade into the background. She didn’t take any shit. She didn’t loan out her shoes. You had to love her anyway.

“She’s expecting you back in New York then, huh?” Dale stopped in front of the office door.

“She’d come all the way over here to drag me back probably,” I said, meeting Dale’s gaze.

He exhaled a long breath and knocked on the office door. I wanted to pull back on liking him so much, but it was damn near impossible. Dale had managed to unlock the closed doors inside of me. Now that they were open, I didn’t want them sealed.

“Come in,” Ram hollered from the other side of the door.

“Why exactly are you talking to Vince in secret and hiding from me in here?” Dale asked a guilty-looking Ram as soon as the door opened.

Ram skirted around him to catch me in a bear hug. “Alanna. So good to see your pretty face around here again.”

“Can’t keep me away from those chicken wings, Ram.” I kissed him on the cheek.

“Dad,” Dale said again. “Look at me.”

Ram stiffened next to me but turned to look at his son.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Ironing out a few details for the award presentation. That’s all. Honest.” Ram looked at Dale with innocent eyes. “A father wants everything to be perfect for his famous son. Is that a crime?”

“No, but I know you. You tend to overdo things.” Dale rested his hands on his hips.

“Me? Aw, c’mon.”

“He’s proud of you,” I said.

“Yeah,” Ram added.

“Whose side are you on, Alanna?” Dale shot me a sideways glance as his eyebrow arched playfully.

“I’m on the side of whichever one of you gets me a drink.”

“Bye, Dad.” Dale ushered me out of the office.

“Stay close,” Ram called. “Chicken wings are on the way.”

****

Sangria in hand, Dale led me back to the table where his sister’s family was seated. The boys were elbow deep in wings, barbecue sauce painted across each of their faces and all of their fingers.

“Sit here, Alanna. Please?” Noah looked at the seat between him and one of his brothers.

“Excuse me,” I said to Dale. “I’ve got an invitation to sit with that handsome boy over there.”

Dale shot Noah a glare and plopped his braced fist into his other hand as if he were warming up to give the kid a beating. Noah giggled and rested his head on my arm when I sat beside him.

“You wait, Noah.” Dale took a seat across from me. “When you least expect it…” He held up a fist again, which lost its impact due to his dimples.

“Stop threatening my children,” Selia said as she breezed by and sat next to her husband.

“Yeah,” Jake chimed in. “That’s my job. Although, Selia, I have to say Noah is asking for it.”

“Finally.” Dale threw up his hands. “Someone who sees what the little rat is doing.”

“Don’t worry, Dale,” I said. “There’s enough of me to go around.”

“Dale’s always had a problem with sharing.” Selia patted her brother’s hand on the table. “He’s the baby, you know.”

He grinned at me from across the table as he picked up his beer. Mick hopped from his seat and climbed into Dale’s lap.

“Where’s Gypsy, Uncle Dale?” Mick said.

“She’s keeping watch on all the other dogs at home. Why? Do you miss her?”

All three boys yelled a hearty, “Yeah!”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Can you bring her over on Sunday?” Riley asked.

“By the way,” Selia began, “do you want to come for dinner on Sunday?” She gave Riley a stern look.

“Sorry, Mama,” he said.

“It’s okay, baby.” She ruffled Riley’s hair. “So, how about it? Alanna, you too.”

I looked at Dale over the rim of my glass, and he looked back at me expectantly as did three pairs of little brown eyes. “I’m game. Thank you, Selia.”

“No, thank you,” she said. “Finally, another woman will be around. Do you know what it’s like having to hang around with this crew of manly men?” She flung her hand out indicating Dale, her husband, and her boys. “Not to mention Dad and Uncle Jerry too. A gal can only take so much.”

Jake leaned over and kissed Selia on the cheek. “Aw, stop. You love us all to pieces.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Selia rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the love she had for all those men in her life. She had a wonderful family.

One that was surrounding me and sucking me in like quicksand.

Chapter Seventeen

Satiated by wings and sangria, I sat back in my chair and took a good look at the assembled crowd. In addition to Dale’s relatives and Vince, I had been introduced to several of his elementary school, high school, and college teachers, all of whom had praised Dale as a model student. I met his Boy Scout troop leader, who claimed he taught Dale everything he needed to know about surviving in the wild. The fire chief told a story of Dale rescuing a kitten from a rabbit snare, and the family doctor remembered every stitch and broken bone he had tended.

Everyone I met knew Dale. I mean, really knew him. It made me realize how impersonal a city like New York could be. I could walk down the street back home and not know or make eye contact with anyone. Dale couldn’t do the same in Fairbanks. And it wasn’t because he had won the Iditarod. These people gathered in Ram’s Den knew him long before his win. Knew him and loved him.

I didn’t stand a chance.

“There’s that dopey grin again.” Dale slid into the seat that Noah had abandoned.

“I’m enjoying myself.” I tilted my head to look at him.

He pressed a warm kiss to the back of my hand, and its power shot to my hidden depths.

“I can’t wait to take you home with me tonight,” he whispered into my ear as he traced its edge with his thumb.

I swept my gaze around the immediate vicinity. Selia and Jake had taken the boys to the restroom in an attempt to “de-sauce” them, which left Dale and I alone at our table.

“Who said I was going home with you tonight?” As if I had a choice. If he kept caressing my ear, I’d be begging him to take me home.

“I don’t know about you, but I slept like crap last night without you in my bed.” Dale slid his hand down my neck and shoulder, along my arm, and rested it on my thigh under the table. “I missed you.”

“When you say shit like that, I have to go home with you.” I poked him in the chest.

“All part of the plan, Gaia-girl.” Dale kissed my cheek. “I can’t wait to have you naked beneath me, calling my name, wanting more.” He breathed the words into the curve of my neck, and if his friends and family weren’t in the tavern, I would have stripped down naked right there on the spot and surrendered to him. My body itched to have his fingers combing over me.

“My room at Moose Point is nice, but it’s missing the perks your house offers.”

Dale looked to his hand still on my thigh. “If you packed your stuff and stayed with me until you have to…you know, leave, we could get more time in together. I don’t want to pressure you, but this whole thing between us, whatever it is, has a time limit on it. I don’t want to waste possible moments with you if I don’t have to. I’m selfish like that.”

He pulled his hand off my leg and fiddled with the brace on his other hand. He was so damn adorable, I wanted to tear into him. Reaching over, I lifted his chin with my index finger. When his eyes met mine, they were so green, so deep. I opened my mouth several times to reply, but everything about him distracted me. The coppery stubble around his mouth and chin. The seductive curve of his lips. The broad, yet welcoming span of his shoulders. All of it was perfect, and he was offering all of it to me.

“Would there be more blueberry syrup in the mornings if I stayed with you?”

“There would be anything your heart desired if you stayed with me,” Dale replied.

“Anything?” My heart pumped a little faster as I thought of the possibilities.

“Anything. I aim to please.”

“Count me in then.” More of Dale wouldn’t be too much of a burden. It’d be more like a dream. “I do have to get my article done though.”

“Sure, sure. No problem. I can stay out of your way while you’re working and be completely in your way when you’re not.”

The devilish smirk on his face made my pulse explode in my veins. I scanned the room, looking for the doctor I’d met earlier. Surely the human body couldn’t be this turned on all at once.

“Attention! Attention!” Ram’s voice boomed over the microphone he had set up along the far wall of the tavern.

“Oh, boy,” Dale said. “Here we go. C’mon.” He tugged at my sleeve. “I think we can still sneak out without anyone noticing.”

I swatted his hand away. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to accept the praise and adoration of everyone here tonight. I know it won’t be easy, but you’ll manage.”

The dimple in his cheek flashed. “You don’t know the embarrassment my father is capable of conjuring here.”

“All the more reason for me to stay and watch.” I laughed at Dale’s attempted frown. “C’mon. You deserve attention.”

“I want attention. Your attention.” Dale drummed his fingers on his knee. His other foot tapped against the floor to an unheard rhythm.

“Wait a minute.” I grasped his wrist to stop his movement. “Are you nervous?”

His whole body went still as he sat straighter in his chair. “Nervous? No, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. This is something I didn’t expect. Mr. Iditarod doesn’t like public recognition.” Around us, people took their seats and quieted down. Ram waited at the microphone with the governor at his side.

“I like it fine.” Dale’s foot tapped again. “I can’t trust Dad to not blabber on and on though.”

“About you,” I said. “You can’t trust him not to put the spotlight on you.”

“He’s going to put the spotlight on me.” Dale exhaled. “And I’m only nervous because he didn’t run his plans by me. I don’t know what to expect. He could have a slideshow of baby pictures ready for all I know.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ll bet you were adorable.”

“Not helping, Alanna,” he whispered with a half-smile. “Not helping at all.”

“I’ll help you plenty later,” I whispered back. “Help you out of your sweater, your pants, your underwear. Help you into bed, into me…”

Dale pushed his chair closer to mine and draped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to hold you to that promise of help.” He twirled a finger around the end of my hair and nipped at my ear.

“A huge thank you to all of you for coming out tonight to celebrate with us,” Ram began, causing Dale to shift away from me and pay attention. Ram’s eyes were twinkling with pride as he stood in front of the microphone. “As you all know my one and only son, Dale, is this year’s Iditarod winner.”

Thunderous applause echoed throughout the tavern, and Dale stood to bow to the crowd. Laughter sifted into the applause, and it was easy to see why they loved him. Clean cut, as Vince had said. Humble as well as humorous. Gentle and passionate. All of those contained in one outstanding package.

“C’mon up here, son,” Ram said, his face bright with pride.

Dale weaved through the tables until he came to stand next to his father. Though their coloring differed, the way the two of them stood was identical. Strong legs, long and solid, spread apart about hip distance. Arms folded across their chests, chins level in confidence. Eyes making contact with various faces in the tavern, lips curling with humor.

A chorus of “Uncle Dale” from Mick, Riley, and Noah rose in volume as the clapping subsided. More laughter and pointing to the adorable triplets followed until the crowd finally settled down for Ram to continue.

“Not only is Dale the winner, he’s also the youngest Iditarod winner to date. A monumental accomplishment at any age, Dale has achieved it sooner than any of his predecessors. Finishing in record time with no injuries to his dog team, he has only himself to beat next year.”

Another round of uproarious applause rode on Ram’s words. Dale nodded in appreciation, a flush on his perfect cheeks. Though he didn’t seem nervous, he wasn’t entirely comfortable being in the limelight and listening to his father’s praise either. The modesty only made him more attractive. Once we got to his house tonight, I was going to attack him. There’d be no stopping me. Not that Dale would try.

“In honor of Dale’s accomplishment and with the help of Dale’s Iditarod sponsors, we here at Ram’s Den are going to be expanding.” Ram let that news sink in.

Murmurs of surprise flitted amongst the patrons, and Dale looked as if it were the first he’d heard about such plans.

“I’ve kept this tidbit hush-hush until now,” Ram continued. “But…” He pointed to Vince who stood by a covered easel.

On Ram’s signal, Vince unveiled the easel to expose a drawing.

“What you see here, folks,” Ram said, “are designs for tables and booths, a real stage, plus a dance floor to be added to the existing tavern. We’re going to be bringing in local bands on the weekends, and the new room will be called The Dream Big Room in honor of Dale’s big dreaming and big winning. This picture will hang on the wall in the new room.”

Ram pointed to Violet on the other side of him who also stood beside a covered easel. She unveiled hers to show a framed picture of Dale and Gypsy in front of Dale’s sled. The same shot I’d seen on the poster my first day at Moose Point. The picture, I’ll now admit, that had made me go looking for Dale.

The audience clapped, and soon everyone was on their feet, their applause nearly bringing down the walls.

“You’re all going to spend your Friday and Saturday nights with us,” Ram said, throwing his arm around Dale’s shoulders. “Sunday through Thursday are up for grabs too.”

Laughter flooded through the tavern. Such a happy sound. Dale tossed his arm around Ram’s shoulder, and several camera flashes followed. The two of them looked so close, not just father and son, but friends, partners. Dale didn’t look so nervous anymore. Instead, the love he had for his dad beamed from his face. My eyes watered as I watched them.

Ram stepped back to the microphone and held his hands out for the crowd to sit.

“The governor would now like to say a few words.” The governor took Ram’s place at the mic. After Ram’s announcement, her speech was about as animated as watching grass grow, though her message was well intended. Something about following your heart and living as if every day was a step toward something important. Good advice. The governor presented Dale with a plaque on behalf of the city of Fairbanks, and he received his official Iditarod trophy. Armed with both of these, Dale approached the microphone.

“Thank you. Your support makes all the difference. And Dad…I don’t know what to say about the expansion plans besides I’m honored and hope it does inspire others to dream big. Not everyone has someone like you to help them see that big dreams are possible.” Dale stopped and gave Ram a huge hug. They looked like two bears embracing.

“I accept this plaque and this trophy for all of you, for all of Fairbanks. I also have to mention my dogs, especially my lead dog, Gypsy. Without her leadership and obedience and without the hard work of every dog on my team, winning would be impossible. The dogs are the real athletes, but until they figure out how to make thank you speeches, I’ll be happy to accept your congratulations myself.”

Chuckles fluttered through the bar, and I was now completely enchanted. Adding well spoken, good-natured, and fair to his list of commendable qualities, Dale was well on his way to being the perfect man. The perfect man for me.

I had officially fallen for him. Too soon. Too fast. Dale had wormed his way, pretty much effortlessly, into my heart.

My heart. The piece of me I’d taken offline while I tried to make a name for myself at Gaia. Dale had rebooted my heart, probably with his first email now that I thought about it. Hadn’t I already decided to like him after reading his comments? Hadn’t he already captured my interest with his clever responses and funny jokes online? Seeing him in person—and shit, the view was unbelievable—only tossed me further over the line between friend and something more. Something I’d needed to help me make the most out of life.

“Hey.” Selia’s voice so close beside me jarred me from my thoughts. “You okay?”

When I turned to look at her, her hazel eyes were full of concern. She rested her hand on my forearm.

“Yes. I’m okay. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Selia began. “You look…far away.”

“I am far away. From New York.”

“You know what I mean,” Selia pressed. “You’re either thinking these people are nuts to get so excited about a stupid sled race, or…” She paused, and a slow smile, not unlike Dale’s and Ram’s, slid across her lips. “Or you’ve let Dale catch you in his net, and now you don’t know what to do about it.”

I looked back to Dale who was trying to make his way back to the table, but was stopped by further congratulations and pats on the back. He took the time to talk to each person, laugh at their jokes, listen to their stories.

“Uh-oh,” Selia said, her eyes extra-wide now. “You in the net, girl, ain’t ya?”

I nodded. “For as long as I’m here, I’m in the net,” I said. “But I only have a week left. I’ve got to go back to New York. I have a job there. Friends. A life.”

“Do you have love there?” Selia sat back in her chair, but had to get up when Dale arrived. I didn’t get a chance to answer her question as she corralled Mick, Riley, and Noah into their seats for dessert. Jake pulled her into the seat beside him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He squeezed her close, and she planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. They looked at each other in that way soul mates do.

I didn’t have anything like that in New York.

Dessert—chocolate peanut butter pie—did wonders to cloud my thinking even further. Not only was I pining for sex with Dale, now I also rode a caffeine buzz and thought of love.

“One final treat for tonight,” Ram began at the mic again. “Our own Violet and Vince will perform for us with their band, Quiet Psychotiks. Put your hands together for them, will ya?”

“Violet and Vince have a band?” I said, leaning toward Dale.

“Yeah. They kick ass, too. Hard rock, my favorite,” Dale said, his voice strained. “My dad hates their music.” His eyes looked a little misty.

“He’s letting them play for you.”

Dale nodded as he took my hand. “C’mon.”

“Where are we—”

He pulled me to my feet and zigzagged through the guests already crowding around the makeshift stage. We slid between people to get a position directly in front of Vince and Violet. Vince had an electric guitar slung around his neck, and Violet was at the mic. A burly guy sat behind the drums, an unusually tall girl sported a bass guitar, and a completely bald dude stood ready at a keyboard.

“We’d like to congratulate our buddy, Dale, on his win, although he’s always been a winner to us.” Vince pointed a finger at Dale who pointed a finger back. “We’d also like to thank Ram for letting us play though he’s referred to our music as ‘disturbing’ on several occasions.”

An opening screech on the electric guitar sent Violet into an angry rant about “being who you wanna be.” Her voice was just a touch bluesy, and Vince was magic on the guitar. I dug the tune and soon found myself looped inside Dale’s arms as we danced together. The movements had enough gyration, rubbing, touching to stimulate and seduce. When their set ended and Dale pulled me against him, I could hardly refrain from wrapping my legs around his waist.

“I think it’s time to go,” he whispered.

“I’ll second that.” I had a little trouble catching my breath.

Some people had left while the band was playing, and others made their way toward the doors now that the music had ended.

“Let’s say good-bye to my family.” Dale led me back to the table where Ram sat with Mick on his lap.

“Dad, once again, you’ve proven to be Father of the Year.” Dale reached out his hand, and Ram accepted it.

“You keep giving me reasons to celebrate. What’s a father to do but throw a fitting shindig?” Ram held his hands out to his sides.

“What’s a shindig, Pop?” Mick asked.

“A heck of a good time, Micky.” Ram mussed his grandson’s hair.

“Can we have a shindig on Sunday, Pop?” Riley asked, coming to stand beside Ram.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alanna’s coming!” Noah chimed in. He ran over and took my hand.

“Then we’ll certainly have ourselves a fine shindig.” Ram winked at me.

“I’m always in the mood for a shindig,” I said.

“Bet you got them all the time in New York,” Ram said.

“Yeah, but they’re nowhere near as fun as this was.” Dale’s entire family smiled in one synchronous movement. They looked like a painting. I committed the image to memory. For when I was back home in New York. Alone.

Chapter Eighteen

It only took moments for me to gather my stuff in my room at Moose Point. Even though I told Dale that I’d meet him at his place, he insisted on following me to the resort.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he said.

If someone had said that to me in New York, I’d most likely be calling the police or getting a restraining order. Here in Fairbanks, however, pure desire made Dale say such a thing. Desire and perhaps the instinct to protect me from a killer.

As I pulled into Dale’s driveway behind him, I gazed dreamily at his house. It looked so snug nestled in the trees, the soft glow of the outside lights illuminating the sturdy wooden logs. The dogs barked in the backyard, but it wasn’t a “Feed us, dammit” bark. More like a “Hey, come out and see us” instead. It made the house even more welcoming.

“Let’s get this stuff inside.” Dale walked out of the garage and opened the passenger door of the Explorer. He grabbed almost everything, leaving me with my purse and laptop.

“Eager, aren’t we?” I followed him into the garage.

“Dancing with you turned me on. Hate to waste it.” He fumbled in his jacket pockets for his keys. “Damn.”

“Can’t find them?” I stepped onto the stair behind him and reached into both of his jacket pockets. They were empty. I slid my hands into the back pockets of his jeans though clearly the keys weren’t there. Giving his butt a squeeze, I grinned wickedly behind him when he let out a moan.

“What’s that?” I said. “Did you say the keys are in your front pockets?” I pressed my body against his. I wrapped my arms around his waist and angled my hands into the front pockets of his jeans. I wiggled my fingers around, but didn’t retract my hand when my fingers closed around the keys. Instead, I massaged Dale’s thighs, catching the feel of his arousal several times. He leaned back against me, and for a moment I thought he was going to fall on me.

“Somebody help me,” Dale whispered. “I want you inside more than anything, but I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing out here either.” He let out a growl when I reached further into his pockets and explored his thighs with my fingertips.

I dragged my hand out with the keys and stepped in front of Dale. “Allow me,” I said.

“Hurry.” The word was a plea as Dale rested his head on the doorjamb and fought not to drop all my stuff.

As soon as I had the door open, he rushed in, buzzed through the kitchen, and dumped everything he carried onto the living room couch. He ripped off his coat and twirled me out of mine before I knew what was happening.

He pinned me to the kitchen island, one arm on either side of me, as he explored my mouth with heated precision. “C’mon.”

Dale led me upstairs to his bedroom. The bed wasn’t made—an open invitation to hop in. He raked the blankets down further to clear a space onto which he lowered me. I only had time to blink before he pulled off my boots, unzipped my jeans.

“This isn’t going to be slow and easy,” he rasped in warning, shedding his own sweater and T-shirt in one move.

“No.” I clawed at the zipper on his jeans. “We’ve already done that.”

I wasn’t in the mood for slow and easy. Fast and hard, like unleashed animals, sounded right. Time to feed the hunger, the demands. No holding back.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Dale cupped my face with his palm. “Can’t get close enough.”

“Let’s try anyway.” I pulled Dale down on top of me. He ran his lips along my chin and down my neck as I arched against him. Drawing back, Dale slid me out of my sweater, toying with my breasts along the rim of my blue lace bra.

“Did Violet pick this out for you too?” He freed my breasts in one quick motion.

“She did,” I managed around a moan.

“Bless her.” Dale scooted down to press his lips against my exposed navel. He kissed a trail along my stomach, up between my breasts. My skin tingled under the light scrape of his whiskered chin as he brought each of my nipples to taut attention. Traveling higher, his lips scorched a path up and over my chin, finally ending to feast on my mouth. His tongue caressed, probed, drove deep, causing me to do the same to him.

I wrapped my arms around his back and raked my fingers along the muscled angles of his shoulders. The feel of him, of his very skin, sent me spiraling out of control. No logic here, no reason. Only passion and heat. Only the unquenchable need for more.

“Dale,” I breathed as he burrowed his fingers into my hair. My own fingers intertwined around the back of his neck, locking him in close proximity. Combing through his tousled hair, I let him slide my jeans and panties off.

“Man, you’re perfect. So soft, slender.” He sat back to look at me. His eyes devoured me, and I enjoyed being the snack.

I removed his jeans and boxer shorts so he was naked atop me.

“I’ve been picturing you like this all night.” I tugged him down to me again.

Dale flooded my lips with hungry kisses. I drank them all in, savoring the natural, outdoorsy taste of him. His hands closed over my breasts, and he kneaded them until I cried out in arousal. He skimmed his left hand over my stomach, across my hip, down my thigh. When his finger traced the edges of my moist center, I free-fell from the heavens. His lips never left mine as he brought me back up to the peak. When he plunged into me with his finger, I sucked in a ragged breath full of ecstasy. He explored my depths with a skilled choreography that left me near the explosion point.

I surrounded his erection with both my hands. The arm he’d been leaning on, weak from his sprained wrist, crumpled under his weight. Stroking, gently at first and then more aggressively, I elicited a rumble from Dale’s throat as he rested his face against my shoulder. His sounds of pleasure resonated deep inside me, urging me on. My heart revved as I handled him.

“Alanna, please…” Dale said into my hair.

His plea surged throughout me. Guiding him onto his back, I took him into my ready core and rode the blissfully erotic wave that crested over us. Each thrust took us higher, and together we escaped the boundaries of the real world to soar amongst the stars.

****

My arm rested in the curve of Dale’s waist while he pressed warm kisses to each of my fingertips and sunlight blared through the windows. Nestled behind Dale’s naked body, I relished the feel of his bottom cradled against my thighs. I rubbed my cheek against the expanse of his back and ran my lips along his shoulder. He shifted to his back and turned his head to look at me. The dimple in his cheek said good morning.

“Hey.” He landed a kiss on my forehead.

“Hey.” I was too satisfied, too liquid, to use more than one word at a time.

“I’ll never forget last night for as long as I live.” Dale hooked a strand of my hair behind my ear and draped his hand on my neck. He slid his arm under my shoulders, and I rested my head on his chest. As his fingers played in my hair, I closed my eyes again.

Dale’s heart drummed steadily beneath my ear, his breath slow and relaxed as his chest rose and fell. Sounded like music to me. Fine, natural, human music. The song I had been looking for but instead had found me. I hadn’t thought it possible to feel what I was feeling, but here I was, lying next to Dale, flooded with emotions I’d never experienced.

Dale shifted so he was facing me. He brought his other arm around my waist, and I flinched.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes filled with concern as he searched my face.

I shook my head and kissed his nose. “The plastic pieces on that wrist brace are cold. It surprised me, because the rest of you is so…hot.” I nipped at his bottom lip. He nipped back.

“I actually have to go to Cantwell today for an appointment about this.” Dale looked to his wrist. “And a reporter wants to interview me back here in Fairbanks at two o’clock. I don’t suppose I can convince you to come with me, can I?”

“You probably could if you were more attractive.” I widened my eyes when Dale’s mouth dropped open.

“Jerk.” He pressed the wrist brace to my stomach. I tried to recoil, but Dale’s other arm held me firmly in place.

“C’mon!” I giggled. “That’s so cold!”

“So was your comment.” He thrust up his chin in mock offense. “Do you take it back?”

“Yes, yes,” I squealed, as he rose out of the sheets, urged me onto my back, and straddled me. “You’re the most attractive man I’ve ever met.”

“Mmmm.” Dale pursed his lips, pretending to be perturbed.

“Honest.” I pressed my palms to his chest and nudged him away. “I haven’t seen a chest like this on anyone.” I traced a finger around his pectoral muscles down to his abs. “Perfect and very, very attractive.”

“That sounds better,” Dale began, “but I don’t know that I’m convinced.” He tightened his legs around me and gathered both of my wrists in his left hand. Holding my arms above my head so my mid-section was unprotected, he asked, “Are you ticklish?”

“I…” The wicked gleam that flickered in his green eyes had me flopping between amused and aroused. “Shit, no.”

He jabbed his fingers playfully around my ribs. My instinct was to curl up to protect myself. No such luck. I was pinned beneath Dale, writhing and gasping. He succeeded in finding every one of my most ticklish spots and didn’t stop until tears streamed from my eyes.

“That ought to teach you a lesson, Gaia-girl.” He released my wrists and sank down to tease my lips. He wiped at my tears with his thumb.

“You’re more fun to tickle than my nephews.” He circled his index finger around my breast.

The simple touch made my stomach tighten, my temperature rise. Reaching out for Dale’s shoulders, I pulled myself up to sit, and he shifted back a bit. He gripped my chin, turned it up, and seared a course down my neck with his lips. A moan escaped from my throat as Dale’s tongue flicked at my nipples, teasing, tasting, then feasting.

“Great Goddess,” I sighed. “I could stay right here forever.”

As soon as the words were out, Dale pulled away from me. He looked at me for a long, silent moment. “I wish you would, Alanna.”

When I opened my mouth to say something—what exactly, I wasn’t so sure—he put a finger to my lips to stop me.

“I know, I know,” he said. “You have to go back to New York. I get it, but for the record, I think it sucks.” He leaned forward and planted another sultry kiss on my lips. He rose from the bed and padded to the closet. He pulled out a sweater and picked up his jeans off the floor.

When the shower started, I slid to the edge of the bed and sat with my elbows resting on my knees.

“Idiot. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”

Huffing loudly, I climbed out of the bed and collected my discarded clothes. I donned my underwear and bra as I found them. Folding my jeans and sweater, I tucked them under my arm and went in search of my suitcase. I paused for a moment in front of the bathroom to admire Dale’s outline behind the steamy shower doors.

Waking like this every morning would be heaven. So cozy, so…normal.

“Idiot,” I repeated, shaking my head.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Gypsy, in the middle of an enormous stretch, greeted me. Zynk opened one eye from his position in their oversized basket bed, but made no attempt to come to me. Gypsy nosed around at my feet as I walked into the living room and unzipped my suitcase. After yanking out a pair of sweatpants and a thermal shirt, I slid into them and a pair of socks. I sat on the edge of the couch, and Gypsy put her head in my lap.

“I know, Gypsy. He’s perfect. He’s so easy to love, but what am I supposed to do?” I looked into the dog’s deep blue eyes. She cocked her head to the side as if she were truly listening to me. “I can’t leave everything behind. Everything I’ve worked for. This article could mean a promotion. Big money, pup. It’s about time I had big money. A big career. A big chance.”

Gypsy nuzzled a little closer and let out a low whimper.

“You think Dale is my big chance, don’t you?”

Again, the dog whimpered and pressed her nose into my hands.

“Don’t think I haven’t considered that.”

“Considered what?”

Dale came down the stairs. He looked amazing in a black sweater, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and the jeans he had on last night. The definition of the word swoon was crystal clear to me.

“Considered that you’re fantastic.” I turned back to Gypsy, and the dog put her two front paws on my thighs. She slopped her tongue across my cheek and then jumped down to trot over to Dale.

“I think Gypsy agrees with you on that.” Dale sat on the last step to give his dog a vigorous rubbing. When he was through, he came to me and sat on the edge of the coffee table, his knees touching mine. He placed his hands on my thighs, not unlike Gypsy had done with her paws.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he began. “I have no right to ask you to leave your life behind in New York. We’ve only hung out for a few days, but I feel as if I know you better than people I’ve known my whole life. I like being with you, Alanna.”

His eyes met mine now, and the intensity there gripped my insides.

“I like being with you,” I said. “A lot.” I leaned forward and wrapped my hand behind his neck. When our lips touched, it was tender, intimate. Each of us was riding the same wave. Feelings were happening in high speed. They were powerful and confusing all at once.

Dale looked to the clock on the wall behind me. “I’ve got to go if I’m going to make my appointment in Cantwell. Mi casa is your casa while I’m out. Help yourself to anything you want. You going to work on your article?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got a couple of ideas I want to try out. The plan is to make a huge dent in it today so the majority of my remaining time can be spent fawning all over you. Would that be okay?”

“That would be more than okay.” A genuine smile slid across his lips as he stood.

“Good luck with the appointment and the interview,” I said, standing as well.

“Thanks. I don’t want to do either of these things. I know the doc’s going to make me stick with this brace because my wrist still hurts like a bastard when I move it.” He held up his right arm and looked at it in disgust. “And as far as the interview goes, I think the rush of my win is wearing off now.”

“Is that so? I’d imagine a guy could float on that cloud for a good long time.”

“Nah.” In the kitchen, Dale poured us both a glass of orange juice and dropped four slices of bread into the toaster. “I’m already thinking about going back to work at Ram’s Den and training for next year’s Iditarod.”

“Ambitious guy, aren’t you?” I took a swig of my orange juice.

“Slackers don’t get first place. Isn’t that why you’re writing your article? To get ahead?”

I nodded. He understood how it was. Didn’t make it any easier though.

He pulled the toast out and plopped the slices on a plate. Walking to the refrigerator, he extracted butter and jelly, pulled peanut butter from a cupboard.

“What’s your poison?” he asked.

I pointed to the peanut butter, and Dale slathered it on two pieces of toast. Hesitating with the knife over the second two pieces, he angled his head as if deciding what he wanted. After a moment, he plunged the knife into the peanut butter. Good man.

We munched on our toast, the thought of a day apart weighing on us both. How did I go from being almost a complete loner to someone who was miserable at the prospect of a single day without Dale?

Jeez.

Dale placed the plate in the sink, and, after he clinked his glass against mine, we downed the rest of our juice. He disappeared into the small downstairs bathroom off the kitchen while I washed the plate and glasses. Gypsy poked around Zynk’s face until he opened his eyes and sniffed at her. She nuzzled him until he stretched out his front paws and rose from the bed.

“Good for you, Gypsy,” I whispered. Now there was a gal who had control of her man. Then again, she didn’t have complex emotions and commitments to cloud her mind or her heart. She had it easy.

Dale reappeared and crossed the kitchen to retrieve his jacket. Shrugging into it, he came to stand in front of me. He placed an arm on either side of me, corralling me against the sink. Though his lips were turned up, his eyes told me he wasn’t his usual jovial self.

“Promise you’ll miss me.” He rested his forehead against mine.

“Promise.” I brought my hands to his cheeks, caressed them, and the warmth came back to his eyes. “I might even have something that resembles dinner ready when you get back.”

“Looking forward to it.” He kissed me so my lips ached for more when he pulled away.

“You probably won’t be saying that once you sample my cooking.” I released my hold on his face, but he only leaned forward and gathered me into a tight embrace as if stalling his exit.

Dale stepped back and tugged on the end of my hair. “I’m going to take Gypsy with me. Zynk’s all yours.”

At the sound of his name, Zynk looked up from his water bowl and let out a short bark.

“I’m sure he’ll be good company. Not as good as you, though.”

“I’m a tough act to follow.” Dale’s smile reached his eyes now, and we were all right again. Both resigned to enjoy the time we did have with each other. “C’mon, Gypsy.” He patted his thigh, and the dog trotted after him as he went out to the garage. “Bye, Alanna.”

“Bye.” I blew him a kiss.

Who was I?

He closed the door behind him, and I stood in the kitchen for a long moment. I turned toward the window over the sink when barking erupted from the backyard. Dale had entered the dogs’ enclosure, and every one of the dogs was on its feet, crowding around him. Gesturing, Dale got all the dogs under control in seconds. Each one sat on its haunches in front of its own doghouse as he went into the shed. The dogs waited patiently while he prepared their food. When he came back outside and placed bowls in front of each dog, they dove into the food on his signal.

Dale was impressive to watch. He leaned against the shed, waiting for the dogs to finish. As his head turned skyward, the sun illuminated his chiseled features. He fished a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and popped them on, which made him look more like a famous athlete somehow.

Dale patted his chest, and Gypsy rose on her hind legs until her front paws rested below his shoulders. He closed his arms around the dog and stroked her furry back. His lips were moving. What secrets was he telling Gypsy? She licked his chin, and he laughed as he wiped off her slobber. He pointed to the ground, and Gypsy dropped to all fours next to him.

I was about to end my Dale-watching and hunt down my laptop when he turned toward the window and waved.

“Now how did he know I was still here?” I said to Zynk, who had come to sit almost on top of my feet.

I waved back and forced myself to leave the kitchen. “I’ve got to get this article done, Zynk, because ninety-nine percent of my brain wants to be focused on that man ninety-nine percent of the time.”

Zynk let out a bark.

“Okay, okay. You’re right. It’s one hundred percent of the time.”

Chapter Nineteen

I decided to poke around a bit before I dove into my article.

All right. All right.

I’ll be honest. I was curious. I’d only seen the living room, dining room, and kitchen downstairs and the bedroom and bathroom upstairs. Dale’s log cabin, however, had more rooms worth exploring.

“You want to give me the grand tour, Zynk?” I looked at the dog, who simply wagged his tail at me. “I’m on my own, huh?”

I wandered into the downstairs bathroom, which was much smaller than the upstairs one but covered in the same slate tile. A sink, toilet, and narrow shower stall made it officially a full bath.

Stepping out again, I meandered to the room behind the stairs. An office. Long windows flanking a set of French doors lined the far wall and led out to a stone patio abutting the house outside. Wooden bookcases, stained a golden brown, spanned another wall, packed with an assortment of books. I approached one of the shelves and read the titles.

“Live Green, Basic Dog Sled Repair, Owning Huskies, Palmistry.” I flipped through the one on palmistry. I had always been interested in reading palms. Skimming a few pages, I learned I had an air hand, which was considered the writer’s hand. No surprise there.

Putting that book back, I scanned the next shelf, which had copies of Gaia magazine on display. For some reason, finding those there made me feel closer to Dale. He owned several other books I had on my own shelves at home. If I’d known nothing else about Dale, his book collection alone would have indicated we were a good match.

The desk that stood in front of the French doors looked as if it may have been handmade. Sturdy log legs supported the corners of a glass desktop and a series of copper tin buckets on shelves were stacked below either end of the desk. I sat in the burgundy corduroy, high-backed swivel chair. The desktop itself was tidy. Bills and other papers in neat piles, pens and pencils gathered in a copper tin cup. A good place to work on my article.

I got up from the chair to walk over to the wall opposite the bookcases. There, in different-sized, hammered-copper frames, pictures of Dale’s family hung above three wooden filing cabinets. Selia and Jake in front of a lighthouse somewhere. Ram on a Harley! Ram and Dale’s mother waving from the bow of a sailboat. Mick, Noah, and Riley dressed in snowsuits and hugging an enormous snowman. Gypsy and Zynk running through a pine forest. Dale and Vince, eighteen years old probably, sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck with graduation caps on their heads. I traced Dale’s cheek in the photo with my index finger.

A few other pictures of people I didn’t know adorned the wall. Other family members or friends perhaps. All the shots had one thing in common, though. Everyone was smiling.

Upstairs, I discovered two more bedrooms. One was set up as a guest room with a full bed, donned with what looked like a bearskin blanket. A bureau, an antique rocking chair, and a nightstand with an iron lamp on it populated the room. Knotty pine planks covered the walls as in the rest of the house.

The second bedroom was set up with a treadmill, weights, and a stationary bike. A complicated stereo system lined shelves along one of the walls. Stacks of CDs were alphabetized in holders as well. An image of Dale working out in this room swept into my mind. Sweating, straining, perfecting his body. A shudder of pleasure worked its way along the length of my body.

Shaking my head, I approached the stereo and popped open the CD player.

“Metallica. No freaking way.” Ninety percent of his CD collection included shit I listened to. The other ten was a disappointing mix of country music. I hated country. Enough to disqualify Dale?

Absolutely not.

I headed back downstairs, feeling as if I knew Dale a little better and liking him more if that was possible. In the living room, my eyes rested on the Iditarod trophy and plaque he had received last night from the governor. I’d set them on the coffee table after Dale dumped my stuff on the couch and before we went wild upstairs.

Seeing the trophy and plaque now, I decided they both deserved a position of honor. I shifted the candles, storm lantern, and old tools he had on display on the mantle of his fireplace. I positioned the trophy and the plaque in the center and organized the rest of the items around them. Stepping back a bit, I admired my work and hoped Dale would appreciate the gesture.

Turning back to the couch, I inhaled a deep breath. Zynk had taken to nosing around in my open suitcase, and he extracted the black silk camisole from the pile.

“You think like your master, don’t you?”

I tugged the camisole, and the dog let it go.

“Good boy.”

Zynk’s tail wagged as he turned his different colored eyes on me. “You’re almost as attractive as your master too.” The dog licked my fingers as I held them out to him. “But I’m afraid I like my men less furry.” Zynk whimpered as he padded away from me to settle in front of the fireplace. “Sorry.”

I neatened my suitcase out a bit and hauled it along with my smaller bag to Dale’s bedroom. No sense in leaving my clothes out on display in his living room. Besides, I didn’t want my skimpy undergarments to wind up as dog chew toys.

I hung my jacket by Dale’s other coats on the pegs near the door to the garage. After grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, I scooped up the bag containing my laptop, camera, and notebook. I took it all into the office and set up shop at Dale’s desk. As I waited for my computer to boot up, I swiveled the chair around to look out onto the patio and into the dogs’ enclosure. They were mostly lying around, like Zynk was doing inside. I guess things weren’t as much fun for them either when Dale wasn’t around.

Spinning back to my laptop, I clicked on an email from Evelynne. In all the fun I was having, I had forgotten to email her the opening to the article. That wasn’t like me to miss a deadline. Even one emailed from across the country.

eseaton:

Working so hard on the article you forgot me?

The email had a date of this morning and a time of 6:15 a.m. The woman didn’t even shut down for the weekend. I was only a day late. Not too bad considering I’d managed several dates and outstanding sex in between my working.

I revised and edited my lead, finding working at Dale’s desk wonderfully inspiring, and sent it off to Evelynne.

“That ought to keep you quiet and me out of trouble.”

I dug out the library books and continued taking notes until “Welcome Home” played from my bag. Fishing around, I extracted my cell phone.

“Hello?”

“So, who’s on top?” Meg said.

“I wouldn’t answer the phone if I were having sex, Meg.”

“Oh, pardon me. Such a polite floozy.”

“I’m not a floozy. Did I mention I’m staying at Dale’s house for the rest of the week?”

“Floozy. For sure.” Meg snickered on the other end of the line, and I was glad to hear her voice even if it was to taunt me.

“You would know.”

“True. I apparently taught you well, my young apprentice.”

“I think you’d be proud of me on this one. I mean, I had marathon sex last night and it was…” I couldn’t come up with the right word to describe what Dale and I had shared last night.

“Uh-oh,” Meg said. “You’re actually speechless. Should I rent out your apartment now or what?”

“I’m coming back, Meg. Don’t be silly,” I shot back.

“Okay, okay. But it sounds like you’re in lo—”

“Don’t say it,” I yelped. “Please, Meg. Don’t say it.”

“All right. How’s the article coming then?”

“I’m working on it right now. Should have most of it wrapped up today. Dale’s gone for the day so—”

“You can concentrate.” Meg laughed again.

“Yeah. It’s hard to think about working around him. He’s…distracting.”

“A good quality in any man,” Meg said. “Speaking of good quality men, Matt asked me to go away with him.”

“Score. Where to?”

“A little B & B his aunt owns in Vermont. Should be cozy and romantic.” She sighed a little.

“This sounds like it’s getting semi-serious.”

“I fear it’s all the way serious. And I’m powerless to stop it.”

“I think, for once, I know what you mean.” I sighed myself.

“We got it bad, honey.”

I nodded, although she couldn’t see me. “When are you leaving for this outing?”

“In about an hour.”

“Already packed?”

“Yeah. Not taking much,” Meg said with a giggle.

“Tramp.”

“You know it. I plan to be naked for much of the weekend.”

“A perfectly good plan.”

“One you might try out yourself?”

“Ah, more like one I’ve been executing since I’ve been here.”

“And here I was thinking a gal needed more clothing in Alaska,” Meg said.

“I’ve found something to keep me well heated.”

“You deserve it, Alanna.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Damn right,” she said. “All right. You sound like you’ve got things under control. I have to go. Call me before you head back this way, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied. “Have fun.”

“You too, kid. Bye.”

I tossed my phone back into my bag and gave my full attention to the article. Talking to Meg filled me with fresh steam, and I pumped out several pages that actually made sense. I imported several of my pictures and added captions to them. My natural writing rhythm was back. More like me. Focused, in control, eye on the prize. After three hours time, I was pretty impressed with myself and ravenous.

“Lunch break,” I announced to the empty room.

I pushed away from the desk, made my way to the kitchen, and opened the fridge. I washed the apple I’d grabbed and bit into it. The crunch echoed in the quiet of the house, and I became aware of how remote Dale’s place was. You couldn’t see the street from the house. No neighbors nearby. Only mountains and trees. And dogs.

I jumped a mile when the house phone rang.

“Now this is sticky,” I said. “To answer, or not to answer. That is the question.”

I looked at the phone on the wall by the fridge as it rang again. I didn’t think Dale had told his family he had asked me to stay with him. I didn’t want to create any awkward situations by surprising anyone with that information. Nodding, I decided not to answer.

Two minutes later, “Nothing Else Matters” jammed from my cell phone. I ran back to the office, and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“You passed the test,” Dale said.

“What test?” My heart drummed in my chest at the sound of his voice.

“The not-answering-my-home-phone test. Not that it makes a difference. I’m pretty sure my father is ready to adopt you, and my nephews want to be your slaves. They’d probably be delighted to know you’re at my house.”

“I’m delighted to know I’m at your house.”

“How’s it going?”

“I’ve talked to my friend, Meg, written a bit, eaten one of your apples, and totally reorganized your sock drawer.”

“My sock drawer doesn’t need reorganizing. They’re all matched and arranged by color.”

“Of course they are, Dale.” I exhaled a breath. “You know for a guy who lives on his own with a bunch of dogs, you’re incredibly neat.”

“Obsessive-compulsive is what you mean,” he said.

“Organized sock drawers turn me on.”

“Check out all my closets and filing cabinets while you’re at it then. You’ll be so hot for me, you’ll want to rip me to pieces when I come back.”

I joined in his laughter and felt light, airy. As if I could fly.

“Did you see the doctor yet?”

“No. Still waiting. They’re a little backed up. Hope it doesn’t run too long, because I’ll be late for the interview.”

“More importantly, you’ll be late to coming home. To see me.” Why was it so easy to call his house home?

“Screw the interview,” he said.

“You can’t do that. The people want to know what makes Dale Ramsden, Junior, Iditarod winner and gorgeous male specimen, tick. You have to give the people what they want, Dale.”

“The price of fame, I guess, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All right. They just called me in anyway, so I’ll see you later, Gaia-girl.”

“Bye, Sled-dog.”

A steel brush couldn’t have scraped off the smile on my face as I hung up my cell phone. I plopped into the desk chair and finished off the apple while I admired the picture of Dale sitting on the pickup tailgate. When my phone rang again, I rushed to get it, hoping to talk to Dale again.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Alanna?” Not Dale’s voice.

“Yes?”

“It’s Brian. Brian Turner from Expedition Earth.”

“Oh, hey, Brian,” I managed around my disappointment. Shit, I was acting like a high school cheerleader waiting for the quarterback to ask me to the prom.

“Hey,” Brian said. “I’ve been looking for you around Moose Point.”

“Yeah,” I began, “I’m staying with a…friend.”

“A friend?” Brian replied, a wisp of surprise in his voice. “I see. I was just wondering what you like to eat. Thought I’d get us lunches for Tuesday’s trip. You’re still interested, right?”

“Yes, I still want to go, but you don’t have to go nuts with lunch or anything, Brian. It’s nice of you to take me.”

“It’s no problem. Flying always makes me hungry, so I’ll be packing food for me anyway. Might as well double it.”

“If you’re sure,” I said. “What are you having?”

“I was thinking spinach pies from Sikik’s.”

“If her pies are like the chocolate cake I bought there the other day, count me in.” I thought of Dale licking frosting off my hand and other areas and had to contain the purr rising in my throat.

“Great. Spinach pies it is,” Brian said.

As he spoke, the dogs in the backyard erupted into a frenzied barking that had me spiraling around in the desk chair to peer outside through the French doors. It wasn’t a friendly barking. More like growling. Several of the dogs snarled and bared sharp teeth at something in the woods. A few of them were on their hind legs, their front paws clawing at the fencing toward the back of the enclosure. They looked more like a pack of wolves than dogs.

Brian said something else, but I couldn’t hear him over the roaring barks.

“What?” I shouted.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday.” His words were barely audible.

“Okay. Bye.”

I clicked my phone shut and stood. After opening the French doors, I stepped onto the patio. I squinted at the tree line. The dogs raged for another moment or so before their barks reduced to whimpers. They trotted back and forth along the fence closest to the woods, their ears perked and their tails whipping from side to side.

Zynk had sidled up to me and, with one sniff of the air, he tugged on my sweatpants, coaxing me back inside. The dogs settled, so I followed Zynk through the doors and then locked them securely behind me. A chill rippled down my spine, and I told myself going outside without a coat had caused it.

I wasn’t entirely convinced, though.

Chapter Twenty

I changed into a pair of jeans and took Zynk with me to a market in town, feeling the need for company after the dogs’ ferocious display in the backyard. As I approached the front door of the store, I scanned the street in both directions. The everyday traffic was out and about as usual, but somehow, I felt…I don’t know…watched. My eyes connected with several pedestrians, which caused my heart rate to jump, my palms to moisten.

“Quit acting like a moron.” Had I forgotten all my New York street sense?

Shaking my head, I pushed open the door of the market and was about to tell Zynk to stay when a voice roared from one of the narrow aisles.

“Zynk. Come on in, boy.”

The dog let out a playful woof and trotted into the market, stopping in front of a tall teenage boy. By the time I caught up to Zynk, the boy was on his knees, rubbing noses with the dog.

“Are you two dating?”

The boy looked at me with golden eyes full of laughter as he said, “Nah. Zynk’s too good for me.”

“I think he’s already taken anyway.” Zynk had rolled onto his back and was letting the boy rub his belly.

“Yeah, Gypsy’d bite me in the ass if I stole her man.” The boy stood and extended his hand. “I’m Aaron Wexler.”

“Alanna Cormac.”

“You a friend of Dale’s?” He looked between Zynk and me.

“Yes. He let me hang out with Zynk today.”

“You couldn’t ask for better company.” Aaron gave the dog one last long stroke before turning back to the canned peas he was stacking on a shelf. “Zynk’s my favorite out of all Dale’s dogs.”

“You know them all?”

“Yeah, when it gets closer to race time, Dale hires me to help train and care for his pack.” He shot a quick look to the back of the market and then leaned in closer to me. “My mom thinks I want to run this place when she retires, but I want to raise and race dogs like Dale instead.”

Aaron quickly slid five cans of peas onto the shelf as if to look engrossed in his work.

“Don’t say anything, okay?” He looked at me expectantly.

“Your secret is safe with me.” I pretended to zip my lips closed. I understood the source of this hero worship of Dale. He was a solid role model.

Aaron’s eyes glinted in the sunlight streaming in from the wide front windows of the market. “You’ve got pretty hair, Alanna.”

“You have nice eyes, Aaron.”

The boy’s cheeks pinked, and he popped four more cans onto the shelf in front of him. “Thanks.”

“Can you help me find a few things? I’m going to attempt to cook dinner.”

“For Dale?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

My turn to nod.

“Seafood’s his favorite,” Aaron said confidently.

“Excellent. My intention was a crabmeat linguini. Do you think that’ll work?”

“That should be perfect.”

Aaron helped me obtain all the necessary ingredients and then led me over to the register where an older woman with the same golden eyes stood post.

“Mom,” Aaron said. “This is Alanna. She’s Dale’s friend.”

Mrs. Wexler flitted a glance my way. “It’s about time that boy got himself a friend who looks like you do.”

My cheeks grew a little hot.

“Boy like him ought to be spending less time with those dogs and more time finding someone to settle down with,” she continued. “Been saying that for years.”

“Oh, I live in New York, so I don’t think he’ll be settling down with me.” My chest tightened as those words came out.

“I’d like to see him settled just the same. I knew his mama, and she’d want him to be happy. Happy as his sister and her brood.”

Mrs. Wexler rang up my supplies while Aaron bagged them. I paid, and Aaron offered to bring them to my car. When we neared the exit, Zynk’s tail lowered, and a growl resonated in his throat. I maneuvered around him, but he moved to block my path. I nearly tripped over him.

“You okay?” Aaron used his leg to nudge Zynk over. The dog barely budged but moved enough that Aaron was able to skirt around him.

“Yeah, but that’s the second time Dale’s dogs have acted this way. Back at his house, all the dogs went loco in the backyard.”

“Hmm.” Aaron furrowed his brow. “That’s not like them.”

“That’s what I thought too.” A shudder rippled down my body.

Zynk sniffed the air again and stalked through the door with alert ears. He looked back at me as if signaling I should follow him.

“What? The coast is clear now?” I rolled my eyes and left the market. Opening the passenger door of the car, I stepped aside so Zynk could hop in, but he made no move to do so. Instead, he circled me several times. After Aaron loaded the bags into the trunk, Zynk barked and nudged me with his muzzle.

“Weird,” Aaron said. “C’mon, Zynk. In you go.” He patted the passenger seat, and Zynk finally climbed up.

“Thanks for your help, Aaron.” I patted the boy’s shoulder, part of me not wanting him to leave me alone in the parking lot. “Dale must love having you help him with the dogs.”

“Dale’s awesome. I’d help him even if he didn’t pay me,” Aaron said. He held onto the car door after I got behind the wheel. “Don’t tell him that though, because I need the money. Sherry McAlson won’t go out with me until I get a car.” He shrugged. “Take care, Alanna.”

As I shut the car door, he jogged back into the market.

Teenage boys and their problems. If only the world stayed that uncomplicated.

I found myself racing into Dale’s house with the groceries as if someone were chasing me. Used to be I’d walk alone at night from Gaia to my apartment when the weather was right. Now here I was, totally spooked.

“Get a grip, Cormac.”

Turning on the small kitchen TV for noise, I busied myself with simmering the crabmeat-clam sauce and boiling linguini, while garlic bread baked in the oven. I made a quick lemon vegetable medley and stashed that in the fridge next to the wine I had chilling there as well. Setting the table, I fussed with folding the napkins into heart shapes and lighting candles.

When I padded back into the kitchen, the evening news was on.

“Police found another body by the Chena River this afternoon. Again, the victim was naked and in her late twenties to early thirties. The medical examiner confirmed she was strangled like the previous four victims. A wolf head tattoo was emblazoned across her forearm as well. Police are investigating leads, but are asking for citizens’ help in tracking down this criminal.”

The reporter listed a phone number and website that were accepting tips. I rubbed my biceps to warm the ice that now flowed in my veins. Although I had done well with my article in the morning, the afternoon had taken an unpleasant, eerie turn. I snapped off the TV and contemplated whether silence was worse or not.

Thankfully, the garage door opener sounded, and my heart leaped in my chest. Zynk clawed once at the door to the garage and then sat back on his haunches, waiting for Dale and Gypsy. I had trouble refraining from doing the same and then thought, what the hell.

I sat on the floor next to Zynk and flopped my arm around the dog’s neck. He licked my cheek once and turned his head back to the door. When it opened and Dale appeared, I had the urge to do this every day for as long as I lived.

“Now this is a welcome home,” Dale said as Gypsy wiggled by him to touch noses with Zynk.

Dale held out a bunch of purple tulips, and I jumped to my feet.

“Tulips!”

“I was hoping I got that right.”

“You totally got that right.” I tossed myself at him, kissing everything in reach. He kissed back with soft, yet deep strokes that stopped time.

“Oh,” he whispered, “I so needed that.” He stepped back from me, slid out of his jacket, and hung it by the door.

“Dale! A full cast?” I took his forearm in my hands and stroked his fingers that peeked out.

“Yeah.” His full, kissable lips turned down at the corners. “Remember how I said this morning it hurts like a bastard when I move it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s because it is a bastard. A fractured bastard. Not a sprained one, but a fractured one.”

“Ouch. What’s the timetable on this?”

“Who knows?” He slumped against the countertop. “I have another appointment in three weeks.” He headed for the refrigerator but stopped and sniffed instead. “What smells so good?”

“Dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry.”

“Good. Maybe it will take your mind off the less enjoyable parts of your day. Dare I ask how the interview went?”

“That was fine. I may have had a bit of an attitude, because I was ticked about my wrist, but she’s going to edit the hell out the interview anyway. It shouldn’t show I was ready to kill someone.” He flashed his eyes at me, and I stood stone still, looking away from Dale.

“What?” He took a step toward me.

“Nothing. I…”

Dale took another step closer and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“They reported another body was found by the Chena River. It creeped me out. And then your dogs went wild in the backyard today after I talked to you on the phone. Zynk wouldn’t let me leave the market today either until he deemed the coast clear. It was weird.”

The skin between Dale’s eyebrows creased. He craned his neck to look outside through the kitchen window, but darkness had crept in. He walked to the back door and flicked on the spotlights. Several pairs of dog eyes reflected the light, and a few yaps sounded.

“You seem concerned,” I said. “I didn’t overreact, did I?”

“It could be nothing.” Dale turned around and gathered me in his arms.

I huddled against him.

“My dogs don’t usually go crazy without a stimulus, though.” He held up his wrist and clenched his teeth. “Like an annoying photographer, for example.”

I reached up and cupped Dale’s face in my hands. “Poor baby. After dinner, I’ll see what I can do to make you feel better.” I brought my lips to his, and we enjoyed pre-meal samples.

“Mmm,” Dale hummed. “If that food tastes nearly as good as you, we’re in for some good eats.” He grasped my chin in his hand and went for another round on my lips.

After pulling away reluctantly, Dale looked over his shoulder toward the backyard. “Why don’t I feed them, take a poke around, for my own peace of mind, and meet you back here in fifteen minutes?”

“Not a minute more.” I followed Dale as he retrieved his jacket.

“Not a minute more.”

After he went outside, I fanned out precisely cut pieces of garlic bread on a platter and poured generous amounts of wine into our glasses. Stepping back to admire the table, I considered going into the office to get my camera. Meg would have a hard time believing I’d managed such a meal on my own. The state of Alaska, however, had brought out a number of hidden talents.

I took it upon myself to feed Gypsy and Zynk. Both of them chowed down food as if they hadn’t eaten in months. They wandered around a few moments, their paws scritch-scratching on the hardwood floors. Gypsy rose to her hind legs next to the dining room table and eyed the portions of the meal I had already spread out. I don’t think she was used to such an image.

“Oh no you don’t.” I tapped her on the nose, and she slunk to all fours. “You had your dinner.”

Zynk urged her toward their basket. She finally conceded and followed her mate. Zynk stepped into the basket first and filled the back of it, circling a few times before settling down. Gypsy wasted no time bedding down in front of him, her backside nestled securely against him.

I sat at the table, placing my napkin on my lap, which made the meal more formal than I had intended. Looking at my thermal shirt and jeans, I rolled my eyes.

“Way to package yourself, Cormac.” I got up and stole a peek out to the yard from the kitchen window. The dogs all had their noses in their bowls. Dale was beyond the fence, the wide beam of a flashlight skimming over the ground and into the trees. The light gleamed off the aluminum of a baseball bat he held in his other hand. Closing my eyes, I willed him to turn around and come inside though that would leave me no time to slip into another outfit.

As if sensing my thoughts, Dale walked through the back gate of the fence, giving it a sharp tug after he locked it behind him. He collected the empty bowls and disappeared into the shed. If I moved now, I could change, but something held me against the sink. As if I needed to see him walk out of the shed. Needed to make sure he was all right.

When Dale emerged, he doubled checked the lock on the shed door as he had on the gate. Crouching for a few moments in the enclosure, he took turns rubbing down his pack. The spotlight cast a glow over man and dogs. He talked to them again, telling them to keep watch.

Not sure if that comforted or concerned me.

“Did you see anything out there?” I asked as soon as he entered the house. He locked the back door before he turned to face me.

“Footprints in the woods that aren’t mine, and I assume you weren’t back there today.” He looked at me, waiting for confirmation.

I shook my head. Who had been walking on Dale’s property?

“Don’t worry, Alanna,” Dale said, ridding himself of his coat. “You witnessed what happens when the dogs sense someone is around who isn’t supposed to be. They’ll warn us, and there’s always this.” He crossed the kitchen and keyed in a code on the alarm panel beside the door to the garage. “If that fails, there’s also these.” He held up his fists, one cloaked in a cast spanning the majority of his forearm.

“I suppose that cast could cause one hell of a bloody nose.”

“I’m a deadly weapon.” Dale held his hands out to his sides.

“Let’s fuel that deadly weapon, shall we?” I tugged him to the table.

I doled out linguini and after he eased into his seat, Dale spent a full minute looking at his plate. The pupils of his eyes were huge, black pools, rimmed with a sliver of green. If I hadn’t been sitting all the way on the other side of the table I would have sworn he was gearing up for sex.

“Dale?”

His eyes shot up to mine. “What? What happened?”

“I don’t know. You look dazed.” I stretched my legs out under the table and surrounded his ankles with my feet.

“Oh…” He looked back to his plate and then to me again. “I never…no woman’s ever cooked like this for me. No woman I wasn’t related to.”

If anyone qualified for the term doe-eyed, Dale did at that moment. I got a glimpse of what he must have looked like as a little boy.

“Too bad it’s the only classy meal I know how to cook.” I sipped my wine and looked at Dale over the rim of my glass. “It’s all downhill from here.”

“As someone who races, downhill is good.” He picked up his fork and took a bite.

Downhill is good. Okay. That comforted me, because I’d been tumbling downhill, head-over-heels, since I’d met Dale.

But what was waiting at the bottom of the hill?

Chapter Twenty-One

Selia owned an enormous, colonial-style house that harkened back to another time. Four thick columns spanned from the ground to the roofline in the front of the house, and a wide pair of black doors welcomed guests beyond the front steps. Painted a tidy white and adorned with black shutters, the house looked well maintained and cozy at the same time.

“I hope you’re ready for this.” Dale’s hand hovered before turning the knob on the front door.

“I met them all already.” Gypsy and Zynk were on either side of me, like bodyguards.

“Yeah, but they were on their best behavior,” Dale said. “Now we’re on their turf. Their true colors will spill out all over the place. It could get ugly.”

“Afraid embarrassing stories might slip out?” I pecked Dale on the cheek. He caught me around the waist and tugged me against him. I almost dropped the pastry box I carried.

“Downright terrified.” Dale’s kiss kindled a fire that had burned brightly since after dinner last night. Even if every firefighter in the nation came together, they couldn’t extinguish this blaze.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, and I leaped away from Dale, leaving him hanging mid-kiss.

“Micky!” Dale recovered far quicker than I was able to. He shot me a sly smile that said, “We’ll pick this up later.”

I nodded dumbly. My lips still buzzed, but I managed to find my voice.

“Hi, Mick.” I smoothed the front of my rumpled ski jacket to keep my free hand—one that had been all over Dale a moment ago—busy.

“Alanna’s here,” Mick called over his shoulder as he reached out and pulled on my hand.

“Hey, what about me?”

“Sorry, Uncle Dale.” Mick giggled. “Uncle Dale is here too.”

“That’s more like it.” Dale stepped inside and scooped Mick off his small feet.

Mick hooted as Dale lifted the boy to his shoulder and carried him like a rag doll down a hallway. I stepped into the foyer, letting Gypsy and Zynk follow me until they shot to a corner of the hallway.

“What’s got into them?” I asked.

“Bora,” Mick shouted from his captive spot on Dale’s shoulder.

“Gypsy, Zynk,” Dale said in a stern voice. The two dogs backed off to reveal a black and white kitten. “See. She’s all right.”

“Save her, Alanna,” Mick pleaded.

“Roger.” I knelt and scooped up the kitten. It rubbed against my fingers and purred. “You’re adorable. Why Bora?”

“For aurora borealis.” Dale arched his brows as if to say, These crazy kids.

As I cradled Bora’s warm little body against me, two cannonballs resembling Riley and Noah shot down the stairs. They threw their arms around a dog’s neck.

“Hey, Ugly and Uglier,” Dale said to each of them.

“Hey, Uncle Stale Dale,” Riley and Noah said back in unison.

I laughed, and four pairs of eyes turned toward me. The three pairs of small, brown eyes laughed along with me. The one pair of sultry green, however, narrowed in mock disgust.

“Let’s see…” Dale tapped his whiskered chin with his index finger. Mick still squirmed in his grip, but Dale didn’t let that distract him. “What rhymes with Alanna?”

“Banana?” Riley offered. “If you say it funny.”

“Banana,” Dale considered. “Banana Alanna. Yes, that’ll work, Riley. Good job, my boy. You’re my favorite for today.”

“Banana Alanna! Banana Alanna!” Noah and Mick chanted. Dale and Riley joined in as they marched toward the kitchen.

“What’s all this noise about?” Ram said from his seat at a round kitchen table.

“Banana Alanna and Uncle Stale Dale are here, Pop.” Noah slipped his hand into mine after I let Bora jump to the floor.

I looked down to him, and his brown eyes glinted at me. I gave his hand a little squeeze, and he snuggled against my leg.

“Hey, you two.” Selia turned from her post at the stove. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her comfortable jogging suit, a soft peach color, fit her perfectly. She stepped over to Dale and planted a sisterly kiss on his cheek, then did the same to me. Jake, also in sweats, took our jackets, shook hands with Dale, and noticed the cast.

“What the hel—” A dishtowel slapped into the back of his head, and he bit his lip. “Ouch. I mean, what the heck happened?”

Dale let Mick slip off his shoulder while the boys all gathered around to inspect his cast.

“Fractured.” Dale gave the same shrug he’d given me. His disgust at the news had worn off, though.

I had tried my best last night to help him forget his wrist troubles. I did a mighty fine job of it too.

“God dammit,” Ram hollered from his seat, groping at the pocket of his flannel shirt and extracting a pair of glasses.

“Dad,” Selia scolded. “We’re keeping those words out of the boys’ vocabularies for as long as possible.”

“Oh, a little swearing makes men of them.” Ram stood and donned the glasses to see Dale’s cast.

“Dad, they’re five. Long way to go before they’re men and a longer way to go before they can cuss like men.” Selia shot Ram a fierce look, and he bent his head in apology.

“Sorry, Selia. I’ll keep it clean.”

“Thank you.” She patted her father on the shoulder, and he rested his massive hand over her slender one. The gesture and the conversation wrapped around me like a hug. I missed family stuff.

“How long you going to have to heft that around?” Jake pointed to the cast.

“At least three weeks. Then I have another appointment, and the doctor will see how it’s doing.”

“Does it hurt, Uncle Dale?” Noah said with a sad little face.

“A little bit.”

Noah rushed forward as did Mick and Riley. All three of them hugged Dale’s legs.

Dale looked up at me, his face gone soft at his nephews’ compassion. I wanted to hug his legs—and the rest of him—too.

“Thanks, guys.” He peeled the boys back from his jeans and crouched to be eye level with them. “Maybe it doesn’t hurt as much now.”

Jake shook his head in sympathy. “I suppose it could be worse. You could have hurt something real important.” He ran his gaze over me and then back to Dale. Both of them sported smirks as if an unspoken joke had passed between them. Unspoken, perhaps, but not unnoticed.

“Definitely. At least I’m left handed.” Dale wiggled his left hand to show it was in working order, and the two of them knocked knuckles.

“Such male bonding.” Selia rolled her eyes at me. “Here, Lefty,” she said to Dale. “Take this into the dining room, will you?” She pushed a basket of bread toward him across the kitchen counter.

“And you,” she said to Jake. “These bowls need to go to the table too. Dad, will you carve the turkey?”

All three men hopped to their duties as Selia ushered the boys into their seats at the dining room table. When she returned, I was admiring a lovely bouquet of bright orange lilies in a crystal vase on the table. Their soft fragrance mixed nicely with the scent of roasted turkey in the kitchen.

“These are gorgeous.”

“Thanks, we got them in the shop yesterday.” She fingered the velvety petals.

“The shop?”

“I own a flower shop. Used to be my mother’s.” She traced the flower, traveling somewhere else for a moment before looking at me.

“What can I do to help here?” I looked around the organized kitchen.

“Drink this with me.” Selia snapped out of her memory and poured us each a glass of wine.

I picked up the wine glass. Selia peeked into the pastry box I’d set on the counter and nodded.

“Got to love Sikik, huh?” she said.

“She’s helped me out on my short stay here so far.”

“Dessert is the way to get in good with my brother,” she said. “For an athlete, the kid can eat his weight in sweets.”

“He does have an appetite,” I said before I could stop myself.

Selia laughed into her wine glass. “I’ll bet.”

My face grew hot. “I mean…I…uh…”

Selia raised her glass in salute. “I know what you meant, Banana Alanna.”

****

“C’mon, Uncle Dale. Please,” Riley whined.

“I don’t know, Riley.”

“But it’s our favorite.” Mick joined in.

“Yeah, and it’s more fun to watch it with you,” Noah added.

“A little help here,” Dale said to Jake.

“Sorry, man. The people have spoken. You’ve got to give the crowd what they want.”

“Traitor. I remember a time when you used to be on my side.”

“What can I say?” Jake held his hands out. “I’ve built my own team here, and I’ve got to stick with them.” He looked at me. “Besides, I bet Alanna will enjoy seeing this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Uncle Dale mushing,” Mick squealed.

“Yeah,” Riley said. “In the I-did-a-road.”

“Iditarod, sweetie.” Selia ruffled her son’s sandy hair.

“That’s what I said, Mama,” Riley said.

Selia rolled her eyes as Noah climbed onto the couch to snuggle between Dale and me. I surprised myself by wrapping my arm around Noah and scooching him a little closer. As a rule, I generally didn’t hang out with kids. Didn’t know many of them. Something about Dale’s nephews, however, made thoughts of having my own children flit across my mind. Dale’s entire family had me thinking about things I rarely thought of. Things that didn’t fit my lifestyle.

Dale looked to me for help. “Alanna doesn’t want to watch this.”

“Sorry, Dale. Alanna does want to watch this.”

A chorus of hurrays resounded in the comfortable living room as I nestled deeper into the leather folds of Selia’s couch.

Dale’s shoulders slumped as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

“Outnumbered again, huh, son?” Ram gave Dale’s kneecap a squeeze as he passed by to sit in the matching leather recliner.

Jake turned on the flat screen TV on the wall above a quaint fireplace across the room. He popped in a DVD and sat next to Selia on the love seat perpendicular to the couch. He took her feet into his lap, and the two of them swapped grins.

“It started with a dream…One man’s dream…” Jake began before Dale hurled a pillow from the couch at his brother-in-law’s head.

“Just play it, Jake.” Dale folded his arms across his chest and scowled, but his eyes focused on the screen just the same. Mick climbed onto his lap, ready to watch, while Riley planted himself at Ram’s feet.

“You’re such a faker,” I whispered into Dale’s ear. “You love that we all want to watch this.”

His lips turned up to reveal the dimple in his cheek. “Shhh,” he said. “You’re going to miss it.”

Again I worried about the stains I was going to leave on the couch post-meltdown. Was there a limit to how many consecutive days a woman could walk around completely aroused by a single man?

Shaking my head, I focused my attention on the screen as Bora crept into my lap. She kneaded my thigh before settling down, her little body warm and fluffy. Noah petted her as an assortment of dogs filled the TV screen. Dale’s dogs. They were all attached to the towline by their harnesses and eager to pull. Their yaps were full of energy, power.

Gypsy looked confident in the lead position on the screen, just as she had when I’d ridden with Dale. In the living room, she raised her head at the sight of herself and poked her nose into Riley’s cheek as if to tell him to pay attention to how good she looked. From his position at Dale’s feet, Zynk barked at the dogs on TV.

“Yeah, boy.” Dale reached a hand down to rub the dog’s ear. “You look great.”

In the background, a figure in an army green snowsuit bent over the section where the sled connected to the wheel dogs. A white bib displaying numbers and the word “Dodge” was slung over the figure’s shoulders.

“There’s Uncle Dale,” Noah sang out, wiggling beside me.

“Or the Abominable Snowman,” I joked.

“It’s cold out there, Alanna,” Mick said. “You could freeze your ball—”

“MICK!” Selia and Jake said together.

Dale brought his hand up to his mouth to stifle the laughter ready to bubble out. I hid my face behind Noah’s head, but couldn’t stop my body from shaking.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Mick said. “That’s what Uncle Da—” Again the boy’s words were cut off as Dale’s hand covered Mick’s mouth, clamping down solidly.

Selia shot Dale a look, but the corners of her lips turned up, and Jake tried to hide his amusement as well.

“We’re gonna turn these boys into scoundrels whether you try to stop us or not,” Ram finally said, nudging Riley with his toe.

“I’m not gonna be a scoundrel, Pop,” Riley said.

“Oh no?” Ram trapped the boy between his stocking feet. “What are you gonna be then?”

“I’m gonna be a detective, like Daddy,” Riley said, sitting up a little straighter.

“Gonna catch the scoundrels, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Riley’s attention was back on the TV.

Jake watched Riley with glossy eyes. I supposed there could be no greater tribute for a son to give his father than to say he wanted to be like Daddy when he grew up. I turned my focus to Dale and found myself wondering what a son of his would be like. Would he want to raise dogs? Be a musher?

A writer?

What are you doing, Cormac? I forced myself to tune back into the conversation in the room.

“I don’t want to worry about two detectives,” Selia said, rubbing her eyes.

Jake gave her feet a squeeze. “Look at it more as two detectives working to keep you safe.”

Selia ran her hand along Jake’s cheek, and he brushed his lips along her palm.

“Jake’s working on the most recent string of…” Selia mouthed the word murders so the boys couldn’t hear. The worry sent creases around her brows.

The dogs’ behavior today and the footprints Dale had discovered beyond the fence in his yard wormed back into my mind. A shiver worked its way down my back, and Noah cuddled a little closer to me. His wide brown eyes looked up to my face.

“Are you cold, Alanna? I could get you a blanket,” he offered.

“Aren’t you a sweetie?” I gave him a squeeze. “I won’t be cold as long as you’re here.”

He tossed his arm around my waist, resting his head on my chest.

“Kid’s got moves, doesn’t he?” Dale said as he tickled Noah so the boy wriggled beside me but didn’t release his grip.

“He must have had a good teacher.” I raised my eyes to Dale.

“I do what I can for the kid.”

A desperate need to consume his lips flooded over me, and I gripped the arm of the couch. Dale’s eyes shot over to my fingers, and he leaned closer to me. The way his breath played over my skin had my insides sparking.

“I’d be happy to do whatever I can for you later,” he whispered.

I nodded and turned back to the TV for fear of climbing over Noah to devour Dale.

On the screen, crowds of people lined the street on either side of Dale and his dog team. The snow beneath them was packed down and barely moved as the dogs pawed at it, anxious to get on with the race. People waved signs and cheered as Dale pulled on a black knit hat, donned his sunglasses, and stepped onto the back of his sled. Giving the crowd a wave—and looking sexy as hell—he yelled to Gypsy, and she let out a bark. The rest of the team pulled, and the sled surged forward. The race had begun.

Footage of Dale reaching a checkpoint, signing in, and caring for his team flowed by next. He was taking one of his breaks at this particular stop. He arranged straw beds for the dogs, organized their meal, and inspected each of them for injury. Two more mushers stopped at this checkpoint, prompting Dale to leave during the night after a few hours of sleep on a cot.

Armed with a headlamp, a light on the sled, and several lights on the towline, Dale took off into the blackness of an Alaskan night. Pretty solitary as far as I could see. Nothing but man and dog, and all the night creatures lurking about in the frosty, snow-covered terrain. Just black and white. In the next frame, however, the orange-pink glow of the sunrise cast a waking eye over the land, causing the snow to sparkle like tiny diamonds.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Dale agreed. “That was my favorite moment right there.”

“Better than crossing the finish line first?”

Dale nodded, the sun’s rays from the TV coloring his face. He leaned his head on the couch with his eyes closed as if he were back out there on the trail.

At that moment, I officially fell in love with Dale.

Just how deep were the wounds going to be when I had to leave? How bad would my heart bleed?

Chapter Twenty-Two

“That was fun,” I said as Dale took my hand and led me to the driveway. Gypsy and Zynk darted ahead of us, heading for the only patches of snow in Selia’s front yard.

“And the night’s not over yet.” Dale tugged on my arm, spinning me toward him. I landed hard against his chest, and he staggered back a couple of steps.

“Sorry.” I hunched up my shoulders. “Impromptu dancing is not one of my skills.”

“We’ll have to work on it.” Dale threw his other arm around me and squeezed me close. I suddenly had no need for my heavy jacket.

“I suck at kissing too.”

Dale planted his lips on mine with long, achingly slow sips. “I don’t agree with that, but we can work on kissing if you’d like.”

“Okay by me.” I encircled his neck with my hands and deepened the kiss until everything around us faded away.

Well, maybe two dogs barked furiously off in the near distance somewhere, but I ignored them. I was with Dale, and his lips were on me, and…

Damn. Those dogs were loud. Focus, Cormac. I poured all I had into the kiss, but a squeaky whimper echoing in the trees across the yard made Dale rip his lips from mine. We both spun to face the trees.

“Zynk,” Dale yelled. “Gypsy.” He headed for the trees when the dogs didn’t come to us. I started to follow, but Dale held out his arm. He pressed the keys to the Tribute into my palm. “Get in and start her up.”

“Dale, I—”

“Please, Alanna. Do it. I’m going to get them.” He continued toward the trees. I couldn’t stop him. He would do anything for those dogs. I knew that.

I turned back to the driveway, jogged to the SUV, and hopped inside. I started it and waited. When Gypsy ran up, I climbed out and opened the back door. Gypsy didn’t get in. She kept looking back to the trees.

“C’mon, girl,” I coaxed, patting the seat inside, fearing for Dale’s safety. She barked a short, quick huff as her tail whipped back and forth. I squinted into the darkness and breathed a sigh of relief when Dale emerged from the trees, a dark shadow draped across his arm. Zynk.

“Gypsy, now,” I said. She looked at me and then to Dale before she hopped into the car. I opened the back passenger door as Dale approached.

“Something got his leg.” Dale’s face was stark white. “I’ll clean him up at home. He’ll be fine.” He sounded as if he were telling himself more than me. His way of keeping calm.

“I’ll drive,” I said.

Dale nodded and climbed in beside Zynk in the back of the Tribute. He positioned the dog’s head in his lap as I closed the door and got behind the wheel. Gypsy growled at her window. I hesitated and squinted into the shadows.

“Just go.” The urgency in Dale’s voice caused me to back out of the driveway.

Dale opened his cell phone as I headed for his house.

“Jake. It’s Dale. Something’s loose in your front woods. It got Zynk.”

Dale paused as Jake replied.

“I don’t know yet. Once I get home and clean it, maybe I can identify what attacked him.”

Another pause.

“I wanted to let you know. With everything that’s been going on around here, I don’t want to take any chances. I’m not a hundred percent convinced another animal got Zynk. I mean, he and Gypsy are pretty alert, pretty skilled. It takes something clever or large to surprise them.”

Dale’s nod was reflected in the rearview mirror as he listened to Jake.

“Okay. She’s staying with me anyway.” His eyes swam over to me in the mirror, and he managed a weak smile. “Yeah, you too. Bye.” He snapped the phone shut and looked toward his lap.

“Almost there,” I said.

Dale’s eyes met mine in the mirror again, and he nodded. He bent over Zynk and talked to the dog as it whimpered softly in his lap.

“It’s okay, boy. You’ll see. Just a scratch. I’ll fix you up, and you’ll be fine.”

My heart broke seeing Dale so upset. His eyes were soft, yet anger lurked in them. Anger that something—or someone—had hurt a member of his family.

I pulled into Dale’s driveway and waited impatiently for the garage door to open all the way. As soon as I was in the garage, I hit the switch to close the door. I was more than a little freaked by the dark outdoors at this point. I let Gypsy out behind me and ran around to the back passenger side. After flinging open the door, I backed up to let Dale climb out. He reached in and slid Zynk out, carrying the dog in his arms again. Zynk barely moved, and I caught a glimpse in the overhead lights of the gash oozing blood on his hind leg.

I willed my stomach to settle and jetted up the stairs to the door that led into the house. I unlocked it, and Gypsy slid past me into the kitchen. She circled the island several times before stopping to look at me. She looked frazzled too.

Turning back to Dale who had entered the kitchen, I said, “Where do you want to work?”

“The light’s best in here.” He hit the switch for the overhead eyeball lights with his elbow. As light flooded the kitchen, Dale said, “Go into the bathroom and get a few towels to lay on the floor.”

I shed my jacket, sprinted to the bathroom, and yanked open the closet. I shot back to the kitchen with five towels.

“Spread a few out there.” He motioned to the middle of the floor with his chin. Zynk lay limp in his arms.

Once the towels were spread out, Dale squatted. Zynk must have weighed about fifty pounds, but Dale took his time to avoid causing the dog further discomfort. He gently slid his hands out from under Zynk. A few whimpers escaped Zynk’s throat.

“What else do you need?” I asked.

Dale ran a hand over his face as if to clear his mind. “A basin of hot water.” He pointed to the cabinet under the sink. “The rest is in the shed. I’ll be right back.” He got to his feet and disappeared out the back door.

The spotlights blared in the backyard, and Dale’s other dogs woofed softly in acknowledgement. I busied myself by filling the basin with hot water and carrying it to our makeshift surgical area. Gypsy was licking Zynk’s face; his eyes closed at her touch. She nuzzled me as I set down the basin and knelt beside Zynk. His brown eye opened to look at me. So watery and hazy. A lump formed in my throat. I gathered Zynk’s head in my arms and stroked his soft, thick fur until his eye closed again. His ribs rose and fell, and I begged for them to continue.

When Dale came back into the kitchen, he carried a large trunk marked “Canine First Aid.” He paused for a moment when he saw my position next to Zynk.

“He’s still okay,” I assured him.

Swallowing loudly, Dale nodded and took three giant steps over to us. He set down the trunk, shrugged out of his jacket, and pulled out supplies. A pair of shears, a packet of needles, and surgical twine, gauze, antiseptic, and a syringe.

“A little something to relax him,” he said, picking up the syringe.

“You don’t have anything for us in there, do you?”

“I wish.” Dale pricked Zynk in the fleshy part of his upper thigh. The dog jolted in my lap, but calmed almost immediately. His eyes closed, and his jaw went slack. Gypsy nosed around, concern in her sky blue eyes.

“Gypsy,” Dale said firmly. “Lay down.” He pointed to her basket bed and, with a final glance at her mate, she did as she was told. “Good girl.”

Inhaling deeply, Dale dunked one of the remaining towels into the basin of hot water. He cleaned the blood from Zynk’s matted fur and, with the shears, buzzed away until the gash was in plain view. Fresh blood oozed from the slice, and Dale blotted it with the dry end of the towel.

“Doesn’t look like an animal bite or claw mark.” He studied it more closely. “Looks like a knife slice, but it’s not too deep. Should be able to sew it up and bandage it.”

Turning to his supplies, Dale tried to pick up a needle with his right hand, but his fingers didn’t reach his thumb with the cast on. Instead, he lifted the needle with his left hand and went for the twine with his right, but had the same problem. He let out a frustrated huff and put the needle down. He raked his left hand through his hair.

“Let me.” I picked up the needle and threaded the twine through the eye. Dale tossed me a pair of latex gloves. “Tell me what to do,” I said.

After sanitizing the wound, Dale guided me through sewing Zynk’s leg, and though it turned my stomach every time I passed the needle through the dog’s flesh, the final result was a neat line sealing the gash. Dale wrapped the hind leg in gauze and taped it in place. Lifting Zynk again, he placed the dog on the basket bed in front of Gypsy. She stretched a paw over Zynk and lowered her head to rest on his back.

“She’ll keep a good watch on him.” Dale stood over the basket for a long moment.

Pulling off the gloves, I pushed to my feet but staggered a bit when my weak knees almost gave way.

“Whoa.” Dale hooked his arms under mine. “You okay there, Doc?”

I straightened out and steadied myself against Dale. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not every day a city girl like me plays veterinarian.”

Dale turned me around. “It’s not every day I find a city girl willing to play veterinarian.” He kissed my forehead, and my knees wobbled again. “Thank you, Alanna.”

“I’d say anytime, but I don’t want to do that ever again.” I rested my head on his shoulder. He squeezed me closer, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. He trembled in my embrace, and I rubbed his back with my palms.

“Let’s clean this up.” I gestured to the mess on the floor. “And then I’d say a night like this calls for a bubble bath.”

“Amen.” Dale brushed a kiss over my nose. “I’m glad you’re here.”

While I went for the towels, Dale disposed of the syringe and sterilized the other instruments we had used. He slid the trunk over to the back door. I disinfected the basin, returned it to its place under the sink, and gave the floor a quick swab with a mop.

After one final check on Zynk, Dale set the house alarm and double checked the lock on the back door—both actions reminded me of what could be skulking around outside.

Before my writer’s imagination ran wild, Dale escorted me upstairs. In the doorway of the bathroom, he unbuttoned my jeans and slipped off my sweater. He let the straps of my bra fall from my shoulders and my panties glide down my legs to the floor. I stepped out of them, stripped his clothes as well, and together we entered the bathroom.

Without exchanging any words, Dale grabbed two towels and sat on the edge of the tub. He poured in soap and turned on the water. While the Jacuzzi filled with hot water and suds, I stood behind him, kneading the tight muscles in his shoulders. He moaned as the tension leached from him, then he turned around and pressed his face to my bare stomach. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held tightly for several long moments. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he let out a hot breath against my skin. When he pulled away, his eyes were glossy.

“Dale.” I cupped his face in my hands and ran my thumbs over his whiskered chin. “Zynk’s going to be fine.”

“I know.” His voice sounded raspy and strained. “It’s stupid, but those damn dogs mean a lot to me. Probably too much.”

“They’re your family. Your winning team. You’re allowed to love them, Dale.”

I let him pull me onto his lap. The feel of my bare bottom on his thigh sent ripples of heat through my core.

“You know who else I love?” His eyes were infinitely deep as they swept over me.

I shook my head, but I knew. I knew because I felt it too.

“I love you, Alanna, and I know that’s stupid too, because I haven’t known you long, and you’re not staying in Alaska. I had to say it anyway, though. I wanted you to know.”

“It’s not stupid, Dale.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I love you too. I’m not sure how it happened so fast, but I do. It’s not logical. I’m not sure what to do about it either, but you’ve brought me to life here.” I tapped my chest where my heart now beat for him.

He blinked slowly, shock gradually giving way to what appeared to be pure delight. His eyes sparkled emerald in the dimmed lights over the tub. I pressed my finger into the dimple on his cheek, and he held my hand in his. After guiding me into the hot water, Dale followed, sinking into the bubbles. He rested his cast on a towel on the rim of the tub and motioned for me to sit in front of him. I cut through the citrus-scented bubbles and positioned myself between his legs, resting my hands on the outsides of his thighs under the water.

“Why is it that a single guy has citrus-scented bubble bath?” I asked, massaging his legs.

“My sister used to tease me by saying I smelled like dogs,” he said. “I’m paranoid about that sometimes. Figured oranges were still a manly smell and better than dog.”

I scooted back more so his arousal pressed against my backside. “Well, well.” I leaned my head back onto his shoulder.

“Almost always around you.”

I swiveled to face him. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

I corralled him between my legs and slid toward him until only a bubble’s width separated his excitement and my ready core. A moan rumbled in Dale’s throat as I teased his lips with mine. He patiently feasted on my mouth until we both slipped over the edge of control. His good arm slithered through the bubbles to press on my back. I accepted him while the bubbles and the fragrance of oranges danced around us.

I devoured his lips, rocked my body against his until he released himself into me. Grabbing his shoulders, I closed my eyes and thought about how, in a perfect world, this would be enough. Without the worry about my job and life in New York, a happily ever after with Dale was possible. I could love him forever.

In a perfect world.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lying on my back in Dale’s bed, his arm thrown possessively across my chest, I gazed through the wide skylights. Stars dotted the blackness above me, and, had I not been fearful of the woods and of whatever had attacked Zynk, dancing naked in the moonlight tonight would have been my activity of choice.

The bubble bath had been like no other I’d taken in my lifetime. Gentle lovemaking amidst the soapsuds had been more erotic than I would have thought possible. Dale certainly had a gift for making me feel like a goddess he alone worshipped. A girl could totally get used to this. To him.

I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep, satisfied breath. Dale shifted and snuggled closer to me. He smelled wonderful, felt wonderful beside me.

Opening my eyes, I looked down to the top of Dale’s head, his coppery brown hair still wet in spots. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of saying good-bye to him at the end of the week. Fighting to keep the tears from spilling, I focused my eyes back to the skylights.

“Oh!” I gasped.

Dale stirred beside me.

“What’s the matter?” His voice was groggy, his face half-buried in his pillow.

“Look.” I pointed to the skylights.

A bluish-green streak of light wisped across the black canvas of night. As if someone had taken a paintbrush, swirled it around in a dab of turquoise paint, and happily stroked the brush across the ebony-curtained sky.

Dale rolled onto his back. “The aurora. That’s the darkest I’ve seen it in a while.”

“It’s gorgeous. The only lights in the sky in New York run by electricity and are usually advertising something I want but don’t need.”

“It looks like the color of your eyes tonight.” Dale squinted toward the skylights.

“I’ll bet you tell all your girls that.” I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.

“I do not,” Dale protested. “All my other girls have brown eyes.”

I swatted his shoulder, and he chuckled before rolling back to his side, tucking me under his arm again.

“There’s nobody else,” he said after a quiet few seconds. “There’s never been anyone who made me feel what I feel for you, Alanna.”

I’d never experienced magic like this either. The conversation had been easy, right from the early emails between us, and the attraction on meeting face-to-face had been instantaneous.

I stared at the northern lights as my eyelids grew heavy. Denali, mushing, sled dogs, aurora borealis, three little boys and a kitten, chicken wings, love. These things looped through my mind as sleep overtook me. I was eager to add plane ride over McKinley to that list of highlights on my Alaskan adventure, but not overly eager to get to Tuesday. Tuesday edged closer to Friday and my departure. I didn’t want to lose any time no matter how amazing it would be to get an aerial view of Denali.

Looking at Dale, naked and asleep beside me, I had to admit the view right here was pretty amazing too.

****

“New Yorkers know how to snowmobile?” Vince scratched at his chin.

“Ah, yes.” I hopped onto Ram’s silver Bearcat Z1 XT snowmobile and revved her to life with skilled precision. “All of New York isn’t a city you know. Some of it is open, wild space. That’s the space I grew up in. My dad took me camping all the time. I can start a fire, build a shelter out of tree limbs, and make a hell of a salad just out of edible plants in the woods.”

Vince elbowed Dale. “Quite a find here. Quite a find.” He had a bright orange hat pulled down to his ears, and I wondered how the spiked hair beneath it fared.

My own hair was gathered into a ponytail as usual and tucked beneath my knit hat. I had been itching to straddle one of the snowmobiles since I’d laid eyes on them in Dale’s shed days ago. Today I was getting my chance.

Before breakfast, Jake called to say he’d spotted footprints leading out of his woods he knew were not Dale’s. He’d posted guards at the fringe of his property overnight and cautioned Selia and the boys to be alert. Dale assured him Zynk was fine and resting. Each of his nephews got on the phone and made Dale hold the receiver to Zynk’s ear so they could wish him a get well soon.

As soon as Dale hung up with Jake, he examined Zynk, who was recovering nicely. My stitching had held, and the wound looked dry and clean. Zynk slobbered all over my hand by way of a thank you.

Relieved over his dog’s health, Dale had suggested calling Violet and Vince for a little snowmobiling adventure.

“Love your snowmobile, Violet.” My gaze slipped over her dark purple Polaris 600 Dragon Switchback. Vince had the same model, only his was bright red.

“Thanks. I’d always wanted one of these.” Violet caressed the handlebars with her gloved hands. “When I met Vince, he already had one so I figured that was the green light for me to go ahead and buy myself this little trinket.” She grinned impishly. “It’s my preferred mode of transport in the winter.”

“Dogs are better.” Dale gave Violet a nudge as he passed her to hop onto his metallic green Bearcat.

“But I don’t have to feed this puppy kibble, or let it take a piss before I want it to work for me,” Violet joked.

Dale shook his head. “You also can’t play catch with that or cuddle with it.”

“I don’t like catch, and I can cuddle with Vince.” Violet pulled down her goggles and jolted ahead of us on her snowmobile. A spray of snow whitewashed the rest of us before we all took off after her.

The Bearcat rode like a dream. She handled the snow wonderfully and took curves like a pro. Violet and I surged ahead of the guys, each of us coaxing all the available power from our machines. I cut out in a wide arc and zigzagged around in the deeper snow, throwing up a white wake behind me. Vince and Dale zoomed by us and sliced a series of crisp figure eights into the snow ahead. We were children playing.

We delved deeper into the woods behind Dale’s house, toying around until Vince came upon a series of tracks ahead of us. Holding up a fist to halt us, he hopped off his snowmobile and knelt in front of the parallel lines. Dale was next to him within seconds.

“Another Polaris,” Vince said, studying the tracks. “Headed that way, I’d say.” He pointed to the west. Looking at Dale’s face and the concern there, Vince rested his gloved hand on his pal’s shoulder. “No worries, man. You always let folks pass through here.”

“I know,” Dale began, “but you’ve seen the news lately.” He pulled up his goggles and pointed back toward the house, which was no longer visible. “Somebody was close to the house the other day when Alanna was alone there. Then there’s whoever sliced into Zynk at Jake’s.” He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

Vince nodded and stood. “When you put it that way—”

The buzz of a snowmobile cut Vince short. All four of ours were off and quietly parked in front of the tracks. As the sound grew louder, an all black Polaris zipped up to us. The rider was dressed in a tan snowsuit, a black knit hat, and dark goggles.

For some reason, I edged closer to Dale who was doing the same toward me. Vince stood in front of Violet. I don’t know what any of us thought we were going to do. We had no plan. All we had was numbers and speedy snowmobiles. I wasn’t opposed to running away come to think of it.

Yards in front of us, the rider stopped his vehicle and waved his hand as he pulled up his goggles to reveal icy blue eyes.

“Brian?” I said.

Dale’s head snapped around to look at me.

“Hey, Alanna.” Brian shut off the engine.

Vince and Violet turned toward me as well at the sound of Brian’s comfortable greeting.

“Brian works for Expedition Earth. Another—well, I should say, THE nature magazine. I met him at Moose Point earlier this week,” I explained to the three sets of unblinking stares. “Brian Turner, this is Dale Ramsden.”

“The Iditarod winner?” Brian raised his eyebrows and extended his hand.

“That’s the one,” I said.

Dale took Brian’s hand and shook it.

“I’ve read the recent articles on you. Congratulations on your win,” Brian said.

“Thanks.” Dale was sizing Brian up.

I wasn’t sure yet if I was flattered by the apparent jealousy or pissed.

“And this is Vince Seymore and Violet Benolt.”

Vince and Violet shook hands, rather mechanically, with Brian but didn’t say anything. They were busy sizing as well. Fair enough. Meg would do the same for me. What made the whole thing downright silly was that next to Dale, Brian had no sparkle whatsoever. I mean, he was an attractive guy and all, but now that I knew Dale, no one else could come close. I only saw him.

“Nice machine,” Vince finally said, raising a boot toward Brian’s snowmobile.

“Yeah. She’s a beauty. Rented her from Moose Point. I’m trying out Alaska via all modes of transportation.” Brian dusted some snow off his pant leg. “I’ve already covered by car, sled, and snowmobile.” Looking to me, he continued, “And tomorrow we’ll view McKinley by plane. You’re still in, right, Alanna?”

Again three sets of eyes shot to me. “Yeah, I’m still in. Looking forward to it. My article’s pretty much done, but I want to add a few kernels from the aerial view.”

“Me too.” Brian nodded. “Great. I’ll let you get back to your fun. Nice meeting all of you. See you tomorrow, Alanna.”

“Bye,” I said as Brian roared his snowmobile to life and zoomed off.

A moment of silence stretched out between the four of us as Brian faded from view.

“Plane ride?” Dale finally said.

Violet and Vince hopped onto their snowmobiles.

“Where are you two going?” I asked.

“Ah…” Violet hesitated, turning the key on her machine.

“We have to…be somewhere else,” Vince said as his Polaris growled to life. Within seconds, the two of them had nearly disappeared back the way we had come.

“Why do I feel as if I’m in trouble?” More pissed than flattered. Definitely.

“I don’t know. Why do you?” Dale countered as he folded his arms across his chest, an edge to his voice I had not heard since meeting him.

“Because of the way you’re looking at me right now.” Though his features were still handsome, the crease between his brows made me uneasy.

“How am I looking at you?”

“As if I owe you an explanation for making plans for something that has to do with my work. You know, work. The reason I’m here in Alaska.” Acid was slowly mixing with my words, and I couldn’t stop it.

“Right.” Dale took a step away from me. “Work. I forgot that’s why you’re really here.” He turned to get onto his Bearcat, but then looked over his shoulder. “I can take you for a plane ride over McKinley. I’ve got a pilot friend who’ll do it. You don’t need to go with that guy.” He looked toward Brian’s tracks into the woods.

I climbed onto my snowmobile beside him. “I’ve already got it organized, Dale, and what’s wrong with Brian?”

“Nothing. Something. I don’t know.” He huffed out a breath. “Okay. Okay. Look, I know I’m being an asshole here. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry to me. “How well do you know this Brian character?”

“Not well,” I admitted, “but he works for the magazine that got me into nature writing and offered me an incredible opportunity to get that little something extra for my story. So I took it. The better my article is, the more likely I’ll get that promotion when I…”

As soon as the words came out, I understood where Dale’s annoyance was coming from. I let out a long sigh.

“Dale, I have to go back to New York.” I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. He didn’t shrug away, but he didn’t melt under my touch either.

“Intellectually, I get that, Alanna,” he said after a heartbeat of silence. “Emotionally, after last night…after saying we’re in love with each other…I don’t know. I thought it could be different. I thought maybe you could stay.”

“I never said I would stay. I can’t stay.” My stomach knotted at the words.

“I know.” He looked ahead into the distance for a silent moment. “The thought of you going back to New York and maybe finding someone else…” He let out a frustrated breath as he looked back at me. “Why did we bother with this?” He motioned between us with his hand. The hurt in his eyes had changed to something else. Something dark. “Is this what you do?”

“What?”

“Play around with the natives. You know, for fun. Get them all into you and then run off back to New York.”

“No, Dale, I—”

“Is this a game to you? Because if it is, Alanna, I don’t want to play.” His voice was rough, his tone accusing.

“Just a minute now,” I said. “What happened between us happened. I didn’t plan and plot. The fact you think I did means you haven’t got the slightest idea who I am.”

“Maybe I don’t. A couple of emails isn’t enough to get to know someone, is it? I guess you don’t know me either.”

Why did I feel like I did know him though? Better than I’d known anyone.

Dale paced away from me, and the only thing that kept the tears stinging at the corners of my eyes from falling was anger. How could he think I would toy around with him and then flitter off to New York? That wasn’t me. I didn’t play around.

Not at all how I pictured our good-bye, but here it was, right now. Probably better off. No sense in smoothing it all out and falling in deeper during the time I had left in Alaska. Made more sense to break it off now while Dale’s words still infuriated me.

“I should probably go back to Moose Point for the rest of the week.” My voice was a shaky rasp and that irritated me.

Dale merely nodded as he throttled his snowmobile and led the way back to his house. It was a lonely ride back, and I hated every minute of it.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Vince and Violet were nowhere to be seen when we arrived back at Dale’s. Couldn’t blame them. Who would want to be around two folks who had ended something magical, something once-in-a-lifetime, over pig-headed nonsense?

While Dale put the snowmobiles away in the shed and fed the dogs, I went into the house and gathered my belongings. Talked myself out of crying. For now.

As I came down the stairs from the bedroom, toting my suitcase and smaller bag, Gypsy met me at the bottom.

“I guess this is the end of the line for you and me, pup.” I sat on the last step and patted Gypsy’s head when she rested it in my lap. She let out a small whimper, and I almost lost control. My throat stung, and my eyes were ready to spill, but I managed to keep it together.

Gypsy nosed around my hands. Zynk struggled to his feet and limped over to see me.

“You two take care of him, okay, even though he’s acting like a giant jerk.” I looked each of the dogs in the eyes. They always looked as if they understood what I was saying to them. I had come to love these dogs as well as their master. They both nuzzled me for a few more moments before retiring back to their basket to cuddle.

I sat on the step a little longer and waited for Dale to come inside. After about fifteen minutes, it became obvious he wasn’t coming inside. He was waiting for me to leave.

I never should have said I loved him.

“No, saying that was right. I meant it. I mean it.”

My composure was dangerously close to shattering, teetering on the verge of infinite sorrow and extreme anger. I picked up my bags, retrieved my laptop from the office, and, with a final pat for Gypsy and Zynk, I left through the garage.

Dale leaned against the railing of his front porch. Achilles, Gypsy and Zynk’s pup, stood by his side. Dale didn’t wave. Didn’t try to stop me.

That’s when the tears streamed.

****

Bear raised an eyebrow at me as I passed by the front desk with all my stuff.

“Don’t ask.” I didn’t stop for questions. Didn’t stop to be afraid of Bear. I rounded the corner instead and climbed the stairs. As I crested the top step and turned to head toward my room, I smacked into someone and dropped one of my bags.

“What the fuck!” I shouted.

“Alanna?” Brian gripped my shoulders to steady me as he backed up a few steps.

I reached down for my dropped bag.

“Let me get that.” Brian beat me to the bag. He shouldered it, adjusted his baseball cap, and took a long look at me.

“What the hell are you staring at?” I so wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. I had a good cry to finish, and I was going to have it, dammit. Maybe I’d throw a few things too.

“Are you okay?” He took my other bag from me. I was about to protest, but couldn’t do so without using every foul word I knew.

“No, I’m not okay.” I brushed past Brian to head down the hall.

“You looked as if you were having fun this afternoon on the snowmobiles with your Iditarod friend.”

I stopped in front of my room and unlocked the door. I left it open, and Brian entered behind me. He set my stuff on the floor by the desk while I flopped onto the oversized bed. Funny how I’d thought that bed was the best I’d slept in when I had first arrived. I knew better now.

The best bed was Dale’s.

“I was having fun. A shitload of it. More fun than one person is probably allowed to have over the course of a couple of days. And now…” I stretched out my arms to either side of me on the bed. “And now I’m not having fun. My own fault. I got greedy. Didn’t use my head. Let things happen I shouldn’t have. I’m such a moron.” I sat up and shrugged.

“You want me to get you something? A drink maybe?” Brian knelt in front of me.

A drink made me think of Ram’s Den. Of Ram. Of Selia, Jake, and the boys. Sweet Goddess, I’d fallen in love with every damn one of them and now had to figure out a way to live without them. I couldn’t stop the sob that rose from my throat.

“Alanna. What’s wrong?” Brian moved to sit next to me on the bed and slipped his arm around my shoulders.

“Everything,” I cried. “Just everything.”

Brian didn’t say anything as I rested my head on his shoulder and gave in to the bawling. He merely kept his arm around me and let me get salty tears all over him. I stopped twice, but the image of Dale on his front porch kept popping into my mind, and I’d get all torn up again.

After what must have seemed like an eternity to poor Brian, I heaved in a huge breath and forced myself to regain composure. My lungs spasmed in my chest, angry about the abuse they had endured. I was positive eyeliner coursed down my cheeks. My nose ran. I ached all over.

Patting my shoulder, Brian stood and disappeared into the bathroom for a minute. When he returned, he had a box of tissues in his hand. He held the box out to me, and I took several tissues to dab at my eyes and nose.

“Thanks. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart on you like that. I don’t usually cry like such a baby. I’m just mad at myself.”

“No apologies necessary, Alanna.” Brian jammed his hands into his pockets as he looked at me.

A slight shadow always hung over his face from the bill of his baseball cap. I never could get a good look at him. I had memorized every freckle on Dale’s face, knew where every whisker was, but Brian’s face was still a mystery.

His eyes never seemed to change though. Always the same cool, distant blue. Dale’s changed color with his mood. They deepened to emerald when he was aroused, lightened to jade when he laughed, and apparently, went flat to olive when he was angry or upset.

My lip quivered again with that last thought, and I cleared my throat, determined to not lose my grip again in front of Brian.

“If you need to go another round, I can take it.” Brian tilted his head a bit so the light streaming in from outside bounced off his face for a minute. He had a compassionate smile, as if he understood the pain I was feeling. I must have looked a little too long though, because he shifted his head down, casting his face into the shadows once again.

“No,” I said. “I’m done for right now.” I pulled a few more tissues from the box and neatened myself.

“It’s probably none of my business, but were you and the Iditarod winner a couple or something?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah,” I said. “A couple of idiots.” I let out another sigh, which sounded dramatic even to me. “You don’t want to hear about my stupid problems.”

“It might make you feel better to air them out.” Brian pulled the desk chair over to sit across from me.

“I guess.” Inhaling deeply, I began my tale of woe.

“Dale and I have been emailing for about a year. He told me to come visit him after his win, which I declined, stating that he could be a psychotic Internet predator who’d kill me if I came here.”

Brian snickered and for some reason that bugged me. I shot my gaze to his, and he fidgeted. “Sorry. Go on.”

Brian’s foot tapped the floor as he waited. It distracted me.

“Alanna?”

“Yes.” I shook my head to clear it. “My boss at Gaia wound up sending me here anyway for work. I went to eat at Ram’s Den, and yes, I’ll admit I was looking for Dale. When I found him, we hit it off right away, because we knew a lot about one another from our email conversations. Then it snowballed from there, you know?”

“And before you knew it, you were in love with him,” Brian finished.

I nodded. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” My throat got tight again, and I grabbed two more tissues to have on standby.

“So why aren’t you still staying at his place?” Now Brian fiddled with the bill of his cap as if sitting still in my room was too much for him to take.

“We said goodbye today, I guess. After you...”

“Shit, Alanna. Did I make trouble for you?” He reached out, grabbed my knee, and squeezed lightly until I looked at him.

“I made trouble for me. I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with him. I don’t live here. I have a life in New York I’ve got to get back to. It was ridiculous to love him.”

He released his grip on me and sat back in the desk chair, looking a little relieved I wasn’t blaming him for my current misery. His foot began to tap again, grating on my nerves.

“Look,” I said, “I need some alone time. Thanks for listening.”

Brian stood, seeming to welcome my dismissal of him. “No problem. Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe the plane ride will put things into…perspective.” He chose the last word carefully before taking off his baseball cap, revealing the jagged, lightning bolt of a scar that sliced through his short, black hair. Whatever caused it must have been truly horrific.

“I used to think small problems were big problems until this.” He ran a finger over the scar, shuddering as he touched it.

“What happened?” I fixated on the scar. It looked so deep and not a stitch of hair grew over it.

“Motorcycle accident,” he said. “It wasn’t pretty. Neither is this scar. I almost checked out for good.” He slapped his hat back on, looking uncomfortable, and walked toward the door of my room.

“See you tomorrow,” I said.

He nodded, and as I closed the door behind him, my writer’s imagination filled in all the gruesome details Brian had left out about his accident. Sometimes I wish I could shut that damn imagination off. It never did me any good. It made me see Brian fighting for his life in a hospital bed, scared and, for some reason, alone. It made me see a happily ever after with Dale that was not within reach. It made me see a life I couldn’t have.

Sometimes, my imagination was too much.

****

I must have dozed off in my clothes on the bed after Brian left, because at about one in the morning, I snapped awake, reaching out to the other side of the bed. Reaching out for Dale. When my hand came up empty, the events of the day crashed down around me. I rolled to my back and listened to the hollow, lonely sound of my own breathing.

What was Dale doing right now? I tried picturing him in his bed. Maybe Gypsy was with him, keeping him company. And how was Zynk doing?

“Don’t, Cormac. Just don’t.”

I got up to use the bathroom and then sat at the desk. I pulled out my laptop and tapped my fingers as I waited for it to wake up. Nothing like a little mindless online surfing to drown your troubles. Thought about calling Meg, but wasn’t ready to hash through the entire episode again yet.

Two emails worth reading popped up amongst the junk. Neither one was from Dale.

eseaton:

Opening looks fantastic. Can’t wait to read the finished piece.

Any other time that email would have caused me to dance around the room. I didn’t feel like dancing now.

mpetrisi:

I miss your stupid ass around this place. I’d forgotten how we’re surrounded by morons over here! Good thing I’ve got Matt to act as a “night time diversion.” I’d lose my damn mind otherwise. ☺

See you soon!

Right.

New York. Meg. Work. Home.

That all made sense. Perfect sense. Getting tangled with a dog musher in Alaska made no sense. No sense at all. Told myself this from the beginning, so why didn’t I listen?

****

My body was leaden when I awoke in the morning. I had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed. Waking up alone sucked.

After sliding to the edge of the bed, I poured myself out, my feet cold against the hard wood floor beneath them. I scuffled to the bathroom and army crawled into the shower. Closing my eyes under the hot spray of water, I tried to summon my hidden reserve of energy, but that well was dry too. I was utterly defenseless against the pain in my chest that ached with each breath in, each breath out.

I flipped off the water and stepped out of the shower without toweling off. I dripped all the way to my suitcase and pulled out whatever happened to be on top. I didn’t care what it was. It didn’t matter.

Trudging back to the bathroom, I haphazardly brushed against a towel and slipped into my outfit. Jeans, blue sweater. Blue. Yeah, that was about right.

I dried my hair and threw it back into a ponytail while my stomach grumbled loudly. Hunger. One problem easily fixed. I grabbed my wallet from my purse and opened the door to head to the resort’s food court. My foot, however, nearly knocked over a bottle of orange juice and a small brown bag at the threshold. I looked both ways down the hallway that stretched out in either direction, but found it completely empty. Kneeling, I picked up the juice and the bag and brought them both into my room.

On the bag in neat, precise handwriting below the Sikik’s Sweets’ imprint was a note.

Alanna,

Thought maybe you could use a little fuel this morning. See you at 8.

Brian

I opened the bag where a huge apple-cinnamon muffin sat inside. I pulled out the muffin and studied it for a long moment. I thought about pancakes with blueberry syrup in Dale’s cozy kitchen and looked, through watery eyes, around at my room. It had seemed cozy upon my arrival, but my definition of cozy had been revised since I had met Dale.

Breaking off a piece of the muffin, I popped it into my mouth and choked it down. Tasty, but because I was fighting off yet another round of gut-busting sobs, digestion was difficult. This crying thing was getting on my nerves too. I had been raised to take the bad with the good. To, as my father used to say, “Build a bridge and get over it.” I wasn’t a wallower. I never pitied myself.

But this. The anger had burned off to be replaced with a soul deep sadness. One that threatened to swallow me whole. I had shut myself off from loving someone this completely. And here I was now, feeling like shit, because I hadn’t stuck to my own rules. Rules that had gotten me this far in life. I’d picked career over love.

Why didn’t that feel right anymore?

Chapter Twenty-Five

In the Moose Point lobby, Brian sat in one of the comfortable recliners, facing the fireplace and writing something in his notebook. A small TV in the corner was the only noise in the room.

“Hey,” I said from behind him.

The notebook popped off his lap, and he fumbled around to retrieve it.

I laughed—a strange sound to my ears when I realized it was coming from my own throat. “Did I scare you?”

“Uhh…yeah.” Brian smoothed out the creased pages of his notebook and searched around in the cushions of the chair for his pen.

“Sorry. I usually approach with more noise than that.”

“You came upon me like a Ninja.” Brian held up his found pen in triumph.

The tightness in my chest loosened a little, and I was finally able to take in a full breath. Okay, maybe more like a fourth of a breath, but even that was an improvement.

“Maybe I am a Ninja.” I karate-chopped the air in front of me.

Brian laughed as he stashed his notebook and pen in the bag between his feet. “You seem to be feeling a little better.”

“Oh, no. I want to bury myself alive, but it’s amazing what symptoms an apple-cinnamon muffin can mask.” I poked him in the bicep. “Thanks.”

Brian shrugged one shoulder. “No problem.” He reached to the coffee table and picked up the TV remote as Jake’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hold on a minute,” I said.

“Can you confirm the discovery of another body by the Chena River?” a reporter asked Jake.

“Yes, another body was found early this morning,” Jake replied.

“Same condition as the others?”

“Yes.”

“Wolf tattoo on the forearm?”

“Yes.”

“Has the victim been identified?”

“I can’t release the name at this time. Her family needs to be notified first.”

Jake’s jaw tightened as he spoke. The concern on his face and the wariness in his voice unsettled me.

“I will say this, though,” he continued. His brown eyes darkened as he looked directly into the camera. “The Fairbanks PD is committing extra manpower to this situation. We will apprehend the individual responsible for taking innocent lives.”

The newscast was tossed back over to the desk anchors who moved on to the weather report. Brian looked at me, and I nodded. He flicked off the TV and stood beside me.

“Terrible what people are capable of, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose someone to murder like that.” A shudder rippled through me as I tightened my grip on my backpack and fingered the multi-tool in my pocket.

Brian nodded and shouldered his own bag. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you today.”

“I like to think I can take care of myself,” I said. Protecting my heart, however, was a different matter.

“Okay,” Brian said. “You ready to go?”

“Always. I can drive. Might as well let Gaia pay for the gas.”

“Okay,” Brian agreed, following me past the front desk.

Bear was in his usual spot, newspaper strew across his lap. I gave him an extra long look. Did he look like a killer? Yeah, sort of. Was he strong enough to overpower young, healthy women? Most definitely. I just had never seen him anywhere but behind the Moose Point Resort front desk. He never moved from his post. All his movements were slow and lazy as if time didn’t really mean anything to him. Killing took a measure of quickness that Bear just didn’t possess. Unless the laid-back country persona was just a cover.

“Going for that plane ride?” Bear said.

“Uh-huh,” Brian replied. “See you later, Bear.” Brian edged me toward the front door.

“You folks have a nice time now.” Bear flipped the page of his newspaper.

Brian waved a hand as we continued out the door. Once outside, he let out a breath. “Nice guy, but he goes on if he gets his hooks in you.”

Maybe Bear simply didn’t like chatting with me. Was it because I was a woman? Maybe his conversations with women only involved them pleading for their lives. I shook off the shiver working its way through me.

Brian marched over to my Explorer and went over to the passenger side. Had I told him what I was driving? I didn’t think so, but then again, my attention had been mostly on Dale. I remembered every second spent with him.

After unlocking the doors, I climbed into the driver’s seat. Brian hopped in as well, tossed his bag in the back seat, and did the same to mine. He reached into the pocket of his blue ski jacket and unfolded a piece of paper.

“Here are the directions to my friend’s airfield. Want me to copilot this leg of the journey?”

“Sure. Just don’t expect me to copilot the aerial leg of the journey. I’m going to be taking pictures and trying to keep the drool off the cockpit windows.”

“Any way I could get some of those photos for Expedition Earth? I can’t fly and snap pictures.”

“Not that talented, huh?”

“Not quite. I’ll give you credit in my article of course.”

“Sounds like a great deal to me.” My own pictures in an Expedition Earth spread. A dream come true. Concentrating on my career and standing firm in my decision to return to New York when the week was done was clearly the right choice.

Brian’s offer had to be a sign I was supposed to go back to New York. Any logical person could see that. One door closes, another one opens. Wasn’t that what they say?

Apparently, they hadn’t ever been in love with Dale. Hard to close the door in his perfect face.

“Alanna?” Brian’s voice was far away. “Alanna? You needed to go the other way back there.”

“What?” I shook my head and focused on the paper Brian was pointing to.

“I said left, but you went right.”

“Oh…sorry.” I’m an idiot. A complete fool.

I pulled into a gas station and turned around. Heading back the way we came to fix my mistake, I cleared my head of Dale’s face, of his last words to me, and focused. Thinking of not being with Dale and driving didn’t mix. Thinking of not being with Dale and breathing wasn’t a stellar combo either.

Within twenty minutes we were at the airfield and climbing out of the Explorer, toting our bags. Brian met his contact, and soon we stood in front of a white and red Piper PA-18 Super Cub. If passenger jets could reproduce, this little plane would be its offspring. The two-seat, single-engine plane was no bigger than a pickup truck with wings, and I wasn’t so sure about going up in her any more. I took a few steps back.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Brian whispered in my ear.

“Right. Of course.” I shifted my backpack and waited for Brian to walk toward the plane. When he didn’t—stood uncomfortably close to me instead—I craned my head to look up at him. He blinked rapidly and stepped back, a slight flush coloring his cheeks.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” He approached the plane’s passenger side and opened the door. “Your chariot, miss.” He bowed gallantly and held out a hand to help me into the plane.

I took his hand. It was the only way I could get into the Super Cub somewhat gracefully. His hand felt massive under his glove, and as soon as I was in the copilot seat I released it. Brian walked around the front of the small plane and tossed his bag into the cockpit first. I pulled it out of the way, and he climbed into the pilot’s seat.

Just as Dale had looked right on his sled, Brian was at home in the plane’s cockpit.

“How long have you been flying?” My eyes swept over the complicated instrumentation stretching out before us. I hadn’t a clue about what any of it did.

“No doubt a question you should have asked before agreeing to come with me, huh?” Brian teased. “I’ve been flying for fifteen years. When I was twenty, my older brother, Rob, dragged me to an air show. I hadn’t wanted to go, but he begged, so I caved. I fell in love with the planes and decided to take lessons. Been flying ever since.”

His fingers expertly skimmed over the various buttons and levers in the cockpit. I eased back into my seat a bit. Brian knew what he was doing. No need to worry. I could focus on the view through my eyes and camera lens.

“Here.” Brian handed me a set of earphones with a microphone attachment. “It gets loud.”

I took the headset and plopped it on, adjusting the microphone in front of my mouth. Brian did the same.

“Check. Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” I replied. “Can we get a little Metallica on these?” I tapped the earphones.

Brian shook his head.

“Aerosmith? Zeppelin?”

“No and no.”

“Party pooper.”

Brian elbowed me, and I fiddled with the earphones until their bulk was comfortable on my head.

Brian launched into a mini-lecture on the safety features of the Piper Super Cub, which caused me to envision any number of things that could go horribly wrong while we were flying. He assured me everything he had said was purely precautionary, and I had no need to worry. Logically, I knew he was right, but worry is so rarely governed by logic, so I still worried.

“Ready for lift off?”

I gave Brian a thumbs up, and the plane’s single engine roared to life, rumbling like a summer thunderstorm in New York.

All of my insides vibrated as the Super Cub rolled down the narrow runway. Patches of snow littered the land to either side of the strip, but the runway itself had been plowed to bare pavement. We gained speed, and with a loud growl the small plane ascended into the brightening morning sky. Soon, I looked upon a miniature version of Fairbanks, still lit by streetlights.

“We’ll fly at a higher altitude until we get closer to Denali,” Brian’s voice cut into my headset. “Then we’ll swoop on down for a more personal look.”

I nodded, admiring Brian’s confidence in the pilot’s seat. I was enjoying the ride as well, but I was nowhere near as excited—or as aroused—as when mushing with Dale.

Jeez, Cormac! Give it a rest.

I heaved in a strained breath, mad at myself for feeling like crying again, and peered out the window. The Chena River wriggled through the land, and a light breeze rippled the treetops below us. Everything looked so trouble free from the air. Too bad I knew it wasn’t. Women’s strangled bodies had been dumped by that river. The stain of death flowed with its current.

Shuddering, I fished around in my bag for my camera and snapped a few photos as we climbed higher. Everywhere I turned my head, nature’s perfection filled my vision. It was in the pine boughs reaching heavenward. In the eagles soaring with outstretched wings. In the white-tipped mountains kissing the clouds.

“Good thing I’ve got extended memory on this thing.” I waved my camera.

“Lots to capture,” Brian replied, glancing at me.

I zoomed in on areas of interest and soon didn’t have to zoom in so much. My picture taking had consumed me, and I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Placing my camera in my lap, I dipped my head to look below us. The plane descended gradually toward Mount McKinley a little south of us.

“Wow.” The word dribbled from my opened mouth as Brian angled the plane closer to the highest summit.

“I have to agree. I mean, I knew it was going to be something to see, but this…this is outstanding.” Brian leveled out the plane as we skimmed over the snow-cloaked crests of McKinley. The sun, waking up now, poured golden rays over the mountains causing the snow to sparkle.

“Looks like a place gods would hang out on, doesn’t it?” I picked up my camera again.

“Olympus for sure.” Brian nodded. “I’m sure they’d let a goddess like yourself stay with them.”

“Goddess. Yeah, right.” I shifted in my seat. It was kind of Brian to cheer me up. Though I was cracking jokes and genuinely awed by the view, Brian had to know my mind was elsewhere, and my heart wasn’t completely into our adventure.

“Thanks again for letting me come with you, Brian.” Figured a little gratitude might help me not seem so rude.

“No problem. Too bad this ride isn’t getting your mind off of Iditarod guy, though.”

I hung my head, and Brian laughed beside me.

“I’m see-through, aren’t I?”

“Completely transparent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve been through enough rough break-ups to know it absolutely sucks. You feel all confused, and you’re asking yourself a million questions about what went wrong, how can you fix it, should you fix it. Everything inside of you hurts. Everything outside of you hurts. That’s the all-encompassing power of a heartache. It beats the shit out of you.”

Brian settled his hand back on the yoke, his grip extra tight. His jaw was pretty well clenched by this point too, and I found myself reaching a hand over to his arm. As soon as my fingers connected with him, he turned to look at me, his blue eyes frosty.

“Now you’re all riled up thinking about someone who did you wrong,” I said. “Don’t bring yourself down to my level. You were in a good mood. I don’t want to spoil it.” I squeezed his forearm and then let go.

“You’re not spoiling it, Alanna.” Brian released the tension in his hands and jaw. “I’m glad you came even if you’d rather be with someone else right now.”

“Brian, it’s not—”

“It’s okay.” His brows arched over those chilled blue eyes. “We’re not on a date here or anything. We’re on a mission. Two writers, working on our articles and going to any height to make them great articles.”

I relaxed my shoulders a bit and was assured Brian realized this trip was for business only. Still, I felt bad for not being better company.

“Let’s see.” I squinted at the view below us. “I’ll make it up to you by taking the best photos I’ve ever taken. How’s that?”

“Sounds like a deal. I’ll see what I can do to help you along.” Brian let the plane dive, and I let out a yelp. “Didn’t you say you’re a daredevil?”

“Yeah,” I began, catching my breath, “but usually I’m the one driving on my daredevil stunts so I know what to expect.” I put my hand over my heart, trying to calm it. Brian’s eyes followed my hand and locked onto my chest. His lips parted slightly, and he bit down on his lower lip.

“I see. So if I warn you we’re going to nosedive into the mountain first, you’d be okay with that?” Brian angled the plane down again as he looked at me.

“I don’t think I’d ever be okay with the word nosedive while I’m sitting in the front seat of this toy plane.” I tightened my grip on the edge of my seat as the mountain peaks below rushed up at us again. My heart—already pretty bruised—was up in my throat now along with most of my stomach.

“Cut that out.” I swatted at Brian’s hand on the yoke.

“Hey, don’t beat up the pilot. If I’m knocked unconscious, then what will you do?”

“Good point,” I said. “Just don’t careen toward those sharp, rocky tips. I like being in one piece.”

“It’s a nice looking piece too. Be a shame to ruin it.”

Okay, second compliment he’d snuck in. I didn’t like the sound of it coming from Brian. Creeped me out for some reason. When I looked at his cool blue eyes on me, I couldn’t stop the shiver that rippled through me. A shiver like the one you feel when you catch the gangly fellow at the supermarket register checking out your boobs while he overhandles your shampoo bottle. Brian didn’t seem like the greasy type, but something about those out-of-place compliments and the way he looked at me—into me—had my skin crawling.

“Can you get us over to the other side?” I asked, distracting myself from the uneasiness. “I’d like to get a 360 of McKinley.”

“Anything you want, Alanna.”

Now everything he said sounded like an innuendo. He had seemed pretty understanding about my situation with Dale, but now it was as if he were trying to pick me up. Suddenly the cockpit was crowded. I was too close to Brian. Nowhere to escape.

I pressed myself against the passenger side window, taking photos and hoping to gain some space. Hoping I was overreacting. When I felt Brian’s hand on my back, I looked over my shoulder, unsuccessfully masking my growing concern.

“Don’t be afraid.” Brian’s face was soft, except for the icy fire in his eyes. Even in the shadow of his baseball cap, the crystal blue was piercing.

“I’m not afraid, Brian.” My voice was strained. Did he notice?

“Good.” He patted my back and let his hand glide down my arm. He tugged me back into the middle of my seat, closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Didn’t want to hurt me?

“Why does that sound as if you would hurt me, though?” My palms were clammy by this point, and my heart raced. I held my camera at my chest as if it were a weapon.

Brian tightened his grip on the yoke. “It’s usually the only way.”

I was definitely having trouble swallowing now. “The only way?”

He removed his baseball cap revealing his scar. “This doesn’t exactly get the women crawling all over me on their own, you know.” He fingered the slice and closed his eyes for a moment. The trees swelled up below us, and I clawed the seat.

“It’s hideous. I know that.” Brian opened his eyes and pulled up the plane. I exhaled a breath as my mind scrambled. Brian was losing it, and if he lost it, we were going to have a rough landing.

“Sent my wife running, you know. She couldn’t take it. I had to relearn to walk after the accident. It was too much for her.” He put his cap back on. “So much for ‘in sickness and in health’, I guess. People say the words, but they don’t mean them.”

His jaw tensed again as we swept over a grove of trees past McKinley. We were flying dangerously low and branches scraped along the belly of the Super Cub as we cleared the area. The screech of chafing metal jarred Brian out of his monologue.

“Whoops.” He pulled up on the yoke, and we ascended.

“Some people aren’t equipped to deal with the tough times,” I offered in a voice I struggled to keep steady.

“My fault, I guess.” Brain shook his head. “I probably should have died. It would have been easier. Then I wouldn’t have to do what I’ve done.”

“What have you done, Brian?” I braced myself for his answer, but he didn’t supply one. Instead, he looked at me again. His gaze was glossy and unfocused. He didn’t look like the laid-back guy I had talked to at Moose Point. Not at all like the fellow nature author I had shared writer’s block with, or the man who had let me cry on him over Dale.

This man beside me now was distant, not in the present. He was back in the days after his accident. Back to when his wife had not supported him. He must have felt so alone. Part of me felt sorry for him.

Another part was scared shitless.

Chapter Twenty-Six

We flew on in complete silence for a few minutes before Brian heaved in a huge breath. I jumped at the sound of it.

“This time it’s different, you know,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I didn’t care for the waver in my voice.

“I’ve been watching you since you arrived in Fairbanks.”

“Great. We’ll add stalking to your resume.”

Clearly not a time for sarcasm.

“I picked the others randomly. They were there, walking down the street, buying groceries, mailing a letter, having dinner. But you…you stole my attention as soon as I saw you in Ram’s Den. I was going to come over to talk, but then the musher slid in next to you. I knew I didn’t have a shot once you saw him. Everything in your body language told me you were attracted to him.”

It hadn’t seemed like Brian had seen me that night in Ram’s Den but then again, once Dale had come in, I hadn’t paid attention to anything else in the bar.

“And in the library,” Brian continued, “his stupid mutt got to you first.”

He’d seen me then too. How could I have been so oblivious? In New York, every stranger was suspicious. I’d always been ready. But here, in Alaska, I had let my guard down in more ways than one apparently. How damned stupid.

“But I’ve got you now, don’t I?” Brian said. His voice crawled throughout me, raising goose bumps on my skin.

I stared at Brian, trying my hardest to figure out a.) the best course of action and b.) how in the hell I had ended up in this predicament. I didn’t want to say anything to send him completely off his rocker, but I didn’t want him to think I was too afraid to defend myself either.

“How do you know I wouldn’t have been interested in you, Brian?” Placating him seemed like my best defense. “You didn’t give me the chance to decide, now did you?”

His dark brows furrowed as he contemplated what I’d said. “I saw you, Alanna. As soon as Ramsden walked into the tavern, he captivated you.”

“Only because he was bold enough to sit right next to me.” Keep him talking.

“Cocky, you mean.”

“Either way. He had the balls to spark up a conversation. Where were your balls?”

Okay, that may have been too much, but sometimes fear made me mouthy. I couldn’t help it. I expected my camera to burst into bits at any moment such was my grip on it.

“You’ll excuse me if my balls are a bit shy.” Brian adjusted his cap. “I’ve been cast aside more times than I can count. Sure, I get the initial interest going. Women like my eyes, my smile, but eventually the hat comes off and…” He choked a little on his words. “The look of revulsion is what gets me. To see a woman’s face go from interested to repulsed in less than ten seconds is a blow to the ego.”

“Again, you didn’t give me the chance. How do you know my reaction would have been the same as other women?”

“I saw the look on your face in your room last night when you got a better view of my head, my scar. You didn’t look at Ramsden that way. I know your kind, Alanna.”

“You don’t know me.” I had to get him to land, but how?

“I’m going to get to know you. That’s what this trip is about.” He leered. “I’ll know every inch of you. I’ll know you better than Ramsden did.”

His words iced the blood in my veins. He licked his bottom lip as he peered out the front window of the Super Cub.

“Dale didn’t get to know me that well. We only spent a few days together.” I had thought he knew me, but he accused me of being a game-player. Thought I’d lead him along and then just drop him.

“Don’t lie to me, Alanna. It’s not necessary. I saw how you cried last night. Ramsden knows you…intimately. So will I. I have plans for us.”

“What are your plans exactly?”

“Do you want to spoil the surprise?”

“I think I’ve endured enough surprise for one morning,” I said. Still had room for more sarcasm next to my mounting fear. Go figure.

“Oh, there’s still more to come.” Brian’s tone was lilting as if he were truly enjoying this deranged little flight.

This was so one of those days when I should never have gotten up. I mean, yeah, weird shit like this happens all the time in New York. But here? And to me? Who would have thought it possible?

I peered out my window again and noticed an open field surrounded by pines ahead.

“Why don’t you land this sucker, and we’ll get on with your plans below.” I inched over toward Brian despite every instinct to stay far away from him. I reached over to pull his hat off, but he shirked away from me. He wasn’t as calm as his exterior suggested. Good to know. “Are you afraid of me, Brian?”

He snickered, but held his hat on his head. “No. Why would I be afraid of you?”

I tugged on his hat again. “Then don’t hide from me.” A book of sayings Meg would employ to make a guy putty in her hands would be extremely useful at this point. I wasn’t as good at that particular skill as she was.

Reluctantly, Brian slid his hand off his hat, allowing me to ease it off and toss it behind us. The scar was horrendous. No denying that. But any woman with half a heart wouldn’t use it to disqualify Brian. The psychotic tendencies, perhaps, but not the scar.

Concentrating on not letting my hand tremble, I ran my fingers through Brian’s short hair, skimming across the scar. He shuddered under my touch.

“Something like this shows how strong you were. You know, to be able to survive,” I whispered. He closed his eyes, and the plane angled downward toward the field. “Land, Brian. Please.”

He turned his head toward me, his eyes still closed. When he opened them, he was so close his breath warmed my cheeks. He surged forward, crushing his lips against mine, and I let out a screech.

“That’s what I thought.” His jaw tensed as he turned his attention back to piloting the plane.

“I…you surprised me. I wasn’t ready.” Major mistake, but he had moved so quickly. His rough kiss was a painful reminder of what I was losing in not being with Dale.

Shit, would I ever see Dale again? Would I ever see anyone again? Would I get the chance to explain to Dale that he was so much more than a game to me?

Struggling to swallow quietly and wondering if Brian could hear my pulse having a full-blown rock concert inside of me, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his neck. His muscles tightened, and I cupped his face. His chin was smooth shaven, not at all like Dale’s scruffy, whiskered one.

“Give me a chance, Brian.” I kissed a trail along his jaw though it caused my insides to flop. This whole thing might have been easier if Dale hadn’t stirred genuine feelings in me. Hadn’t I been faking my emotions every day before meeting him?

Now that I knew real love, pretending to be interested in Brian was downright painful. Death by crashing into a mountaintop would probably be even more so, therefore I forged a path with my lips along Brian’s cheek.

“If I land in Denali, you’ll run,” Brian said, though his voice had an encouraging note of pleasure in it. “They’ve all run, but I’ve been quicker.”

“Where will I run to? Denali is crawling with bears and such. Do you think I want to wander around down there alone?” I tried to make the idea seem ridiculous, but a face-to-face with a bear might not be so bad considering my current situation.

Brian chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about my reply. He didn’t trust me, but he wanted to.

“You can’t fly around forever. The gas tank on this toy has to be tiny. You have to land sometime.” I settled back into my seat. My retreat to my side of the cockpit bothered him, and Brian kept looking back to me, at the distance I had put between us.

He let out a low growl and coasted over the trees toward the open field. Landing a plane probably wasn’t regularly allowed in Denali, and I hoped that would bring out the authorities. Authorities with weapons preferably.

The Super Cub rolled to a stop as Brian powered down the single engine. We both removed our headphones. Now I had to think of a plan. Getting him to land had worked. Getting away was another matter.

“You hungry?” Brian asked.

Sure, a good abduction always builds up my appetite. “Not yet.”

“You’re too busy thinking of a way to hurt me, aren’t you? So you can get away.” Brian reached behind us and grabbed his cap. Putting it back on, he stared at me.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I even managed a chuckle with that one. Hollywood would be knocking down my door in no time. Assuming I made it home and could be behind my apartment door to hear them knocking.

“Not if I hurt you first, you won’t.” His steel blue eyes lasered into me, pinning me in place like a bug in a little boy’s collection. He lunged forward, and his hands grabbed my throat. I hacked at his wrists with my hands, but his grip had tightened around my neck. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t scream. All I could do was think about the other women he had strangled and dumped by the Chena. I didn’t want to be one of them.

In the tight cockpit, I couldn’t maneuver my legs to help me out of his hold. I frantically scanned the area for something—anything—I could use in my defense. The only thing I found within reach was my camera, still in my lap. As my lungs struggled for air and my vision grew hazy, I curled my fingers around the camera. I depressed one of the buttons, causing the flash to blink in a staccato pattern. It was enough to distract Brian.

In that millisecond of disorientation, I brought my hand up, camera in palm, and bashed it into the side of Brian’s face. I nailed him square on the cheekbone, and he howled. He pulled his hands off my neck to press them to his face. I had split the skin on his cheek, and he gaped at his own blood sifting through his fingers.

“Whore.” He reached for me again, but I had pulled the door open beside me. After leaping from the Super Cub, I fell to the ground, completely missing the footholds below the door. The cold ground scraped into my palms and knees, but I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the trees.

Brian descended on me almost immediately. His long legs had no trouble closing the small gap between us. He pulled me down by the shoulders, and my legs crumpled beneath me. I landed in a patch of snow with Brian on top of me. We tumbled down a small decline, and I clawed at the muddy ground, gaining some space again. I hopped to my feet and ran. Didn’t look back.

My palms burned from the gashes in them. Fresh blood dribbled down my wrists, but I pushed on. Brian crunched through the terrain only steps behind me. I leaped over fallen logs and snow mounds, my lungs heaving with each movement. Though I had left my gloves and hat in the plane, I wasn’t cold. Sweat doused my entire body as I ran for my life. All those extra minutes on the treadmill had not been in vain.

Denali passed by me in a dizzying swirl of white, brown, and green. What had looked so picturesque only a week ago with Dale now crawled with danger. I had no idea where I was headed, but had to keep moving.

I cried out when Brian’s arms wrapped around my waist in a vise grip. He wrestled me to the ground. My head snapped back, and my skull knocked into a small boulder. The pain blasted through my head, and my vision wavered.

“Told you I’d have to hurt you,” Brian snarled.

“Yeah,” I gasped, pointing to his face, “but I hurt you first.”

The last thing I saw before passing out was the swelling on his cheek.

****

When I awoke, my lower body was cocooned in a thick sleeping bag. My ankles were bound, and I sat against a tree. No. Wait a minute. Scratch that. I was tied to the tree. I wriggled a little, but the rope that held me captive was securely tied. The movement made my head scream in protest. The back of my neck was wet. Sweat or blood? It didn’t make a difference at this point.

Brian was not in the immediate area. How long had I been out? Apparently long enough for him to go back to the plane, get rope, and tie me. A makeshift camp had been set up as well. A small beige tent sat a few yards away from me, and the remains of a fire still glowed in the center of the little clearing in front of me. It looked as if an animal had been spit-roasted over the fire, and I cringed at the thought of Brian skinning and eating the poor creature.

The patch of sky peeking between the treetops above me grew dark as a light snow fell. I’d left all my stuff in the plane, so I had no way to contact anyone. No phone. No laptop. Nothing.

Except the multi-tool in the back pocket of my jeans.

Fidgeting around, I maneuvered my hand to my pocket and sighed at the small bulge. My fingers wormed their way into my pocket, and I fumbled around until I had the knife firmly in my grasp. I carefully extracted it and worked the blade open.

At the snap of a twig to my left, my head jolted up, and pain swam through my skull. Brian’s chokehold had bruised the muscles in my neck.

“Welcome back, gorgeous.” Brian knelt beside me. “Have a nice snooze?” He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and opened it. The slice in his cheek was purpling beneath the dried blood.

I was glad I got in at least one shot. “How long was I out for?”

“Longer than I thought you would be. It’s Wednesday night. You pretty much lost a day.”

Lost a day! This was getting worse by the second.

“Brian, this is ridiculous. What are you going to do with me?”

“Ah…pretty much whatever I want.” He looked around. “Absolutely no one to stop me out here.” He plunged his arm into his pack and extracted something that looked like a high-tech squirt gun. “But my first order of business is to mark you as one of mine.” He scuttled next to me and unzipped the sleeping bag. He pulled a knife from the pocket of his jeans.

Hacked to pieces by a lunatic. Wasn’t that the reason I hadn’t wanted to come to visit Dale in the first place? Life was so twisted sometimes.

I clamped my eyes shut as Brian cut into my jeans with the knife. He was strangely careful not to touch my flesh with the blade. When a good-sized hole was started in my pants, he ripped it open with his hands to expose my upper thigh.

“I usually prefer the forearm, but because I had to tie you up we’ll improvise. Besides, you’re not like the others. You’re special.” He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his own arm. My eyes zoomed in on the tattoo sprawling over his skin. It had been splayed across the TV too many times this week for me not to recognize it.

A wolf’s head. Gaping jaws. Bared, bloodthirsty teeth. Narrowed, yellow eyes.

“How could you kill all those women?”

“Taught them manners is more like it.” The words slid past his clenched teeth. “I tried charm first, and it worked for a little while, but women are so…harsh, Alanna.”

When he looked at me, tears rested at the corners of his eyes. His emotions were all over the map, changing with the wind. An unstable psychotic was worse than your run-of-the-mill lunatic. He brushed away the tears and focused on my exposed thigh. Slipping his hand inside the hole in my jeans, his cold fingers caressed my skin. I tried to move away from his touch, but I had nowhere to go, no options.

“Hold still now. You don’t want me to mess up my work here.”

“Brian, please,” I begged as I discretely sawed the ropes binding me.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You won’t have to live with it for long. In fact, you won’t have to live long at all.” His gaze shot to mine, and the crooked grin that spread across his lips was down right insane. “I’ve let you live longer than the others. I’ve been generous.”

Why didn’t that comfort me?

Brian lowered the ink gun until its tip needled into my skin. It pinched, but it wasn’t the pain that had me screaming.

“Hush now. I can’t concentrate.”

I jammed up my knees, but Brian moved with me and swayed out of range. He straddled both my legs and took a minute to trace the contours of my chin with his fingertip. He was so much bigger than me. I couldn’t throw him off.

“I like the fire in you. Even if it causes me to get a few bruises.” He skimmed his fingers over his puffy cheek. “The others weren’t a challenge at all. But you…you’re going to be worth the effort.” He traced a wavy line along my thigh. “Oh, and you’re absolutely gorgeous when you’re unconscious, you know.”

Had he touched me while I was out? I shuddered at the thought.

Brian bent over my leg again and resumed his drawing. Each line he colored in threw me deeper into hopelessness. Nothing I could say would stall him any longer and when he was done with the tattoo, then what? Would I wind up like the other women he had dumped by the Chena River?

No. The voice that sounded in my head was a little Meg and a little Dale. No, I wasn’t going to go out this way. No fucking way.

“I think you could get help, Brian.” I flinched when he fumbled with the ink gun.

“I make my own help.” He gestured to the tattoo. “This helps.”

“Obviously it doesn’t help. You wouldn’t have to keep doing it if it helped.”

He shook his head as he continued to sketch in the wolf on what used to be a pristine piece of thigh. “Maybe I like doing it.”

“You’re a successful writer, Brian, for a popular magazine. Surely your life means more than this.”

He shook his head.

“You do work for Expedition Earth, don’t you?” Was I a complete moron? Did I believe a stupid story he had fed me about being a writer?

“Yes, I do work for Expedition Earth,” Brian said. “Killing is only a hobby.”

“Ever try tennis?” Fear hadn’t numbed my sense of humor. Good to know. “You could find someone. Someone who’ll love you. All of you. You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t I?” He brought his face to within inches of mine, and fury filled his cobalt glare. “Could you look at this every day? Could you?” He threw his hat off and angled his head so his scar filled my vision. Up that close, every detail hit my eyes. Something of that magnitude must have taken multiple staples to seal.

“It’s not that—”

“No, no, no.” Brian’s rage cut me off. “Don’t tell me it’s not that bad. It is bad. It felt bad. It looks bad. It reminds me every damn day how I had everything and then lost it all.”

Now it was my turn to be angry. “People have everything and lose it all the time, asshole. You think you’re the only one to suffer that? C’mon.” I even managed an eye roll.

“Your little affair with the musher hardly qualifies as ‘having everything,’ Alanna.” His tone was acidic and condescending.

“I wasn’t talking about Dale and me,” I shot back. “Open a damn newspaper, Brian. Watch the news. Tragedy is all around us. Every second of every hour of every day. But people overcome that kind of loss every day too, and they go on to do things that matter.”

My words and tone stunned Brian into silence. He slid off my legs and knelt beside me, his eyes combing over my face. Reaching up a hand, he attempted to touch my cheek, but I jerked away.

“No one’s suffered like me,” he whispered.

I met his stare with a fire of my own burning in my eyes. Then I focused on the half-drawn wolf ear on my thigh. It didn’t look like much yet, but it still sickened me.

Brian put the ink gun aside and inched closer to me. He leaned in as I cut through the last rope holding me to the tree. With a liquid-like movement, I arced my hand up and over, sinking the knife blade of the multi-tool into Brain’s shoulder. His eyes widened while his mouth dropped open. No sound came out as he keeled over, his hand groping for the knife handle. Before he could find it, I reached up and yanked out the knife. After slicing through the ropes holding my ankles, I bolted to my feet and took off as Brian lay, howling in agony on the forest floor.

Amazing how animal-like his cries sounded in Denali.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I flew over the terrain, my feet barely touching the earth as I wove deeper into the woods. I half hoped to run into a grizzly so I could point him in Brian’s direction. My lungs begged me to stop and rest, but I had to deny them. Though I didn’t hear Brian stampeding around behind me, the only way to keep my distance from him was to keep moving.

The flap Brian had cut into my jeans flopped open as I moved, sending snowy, nighttime air into my pant leg. The farther into the woods I got, the darker the shadows became. Trouble was I didn’t know which way was out. With Dale, we had entered and exited Denali through the main gates of the park. My landing with Brian in the Super Cub had not been standard protocol to say the least. I had no idea where that open field was in the grand scheme of the park. I also didn’t know how far Brian had lugged me from the plane’s landing site to the tree. To the unfamiliar eye, every tree in Denali looked the same. I could have been going in circles for all I knew.

With so many unknowns, hope surrendered to the cold.

I finally stopped to rest on a boulder as the shadows darkened to blackness. The snow stopped, and silver strands of moonlight filtered through the pines, shedding enough light to keep me from totally freaking out. As I caught my breath, things stirred on the ground nearby. Every noise had my head snapping up, expecting Brian. I’d gotten him pretty good with the pocketknife. Nothing fatal, but he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the pace I had maintained. Something about running for your life puts a little extra push in your step.

I bent down closer to my thigh and shook my head at the wolf ear Brian had managed to carve into my leg. Should I have let him finish the tattoo? Would that have been better? What was I supposed to do with a wolf ear on my thigh?

In the curtain of night that was closing over Denali finding the entrance to the park would be impossible. As much as I didn’t want to spend the night alone in the wilderness with my pocketknife as my only supply, I didn’t have any other choice. If I wandered with my vision so limited, I could get into worse trouble.

If there was such a thing.

I pushed to my feet and wandered a little farther until my foot sank into a patch of soft earth. I lost my balance and careened to the ground, wrenching my ankle in the process. Motionless on the chilled ground, I was tempted to stay there and let whatever night creatures came upon me have me. A voice in my head—the one that sounded like Meg and Dale mixed together—insisted I get up and carry on, so I did.

As I got to my feet, pain shot up my entire leg. Limping along, using trees for support as I went, I finally came upon a small rock cave.

“Someone’s looking out for you, Cormac.” Throwing a thankful glance to the sky, I stood outside the mouth of the cave to listen for a few moments. Wouldn’t be a good thing if I walked into an occupied cave in the middle of the forest.

I threw a few stones into the cave and when nothing stirred inside, I gathered pine boughs to spread on the floor of the cave. Didn’t want the cold ground to absorb what little body heat I still had. I wobbled into the inky blackness and breathed a sigh when it seemed warmer within the rock walls. After tossing the boughs down, I tightened my scarf and pulled up the hood of my jacket. I sank to the ground, propped my swelling ankle on a rock, and fidgeted around on the branches. I pulled some of them over me, hoping the twigs would camouflage me and offer additional warmth.

I wasn’t comfortable at all, but at least I was dry and…well…alive. So far. All I wanted was to close my eyes and fall asleep. Wake up to find this whole ordeal was just a nightmare. But that wasn’t going to happen. I had to stay alert. Had to listen for Brian.

Logical Alanna planned what to do once the sun rose. The rest of me was a mix of hurt, exhaustion, fear, and hunger. The least Brian could have done was feed me the spinach pies he had supposedly brought along on our little voyage of the damned. I thought about building a fire and searching for edible plants nearby, but my ankle was throbbing now. Besides, something about doing either of those tasks made me feel as if I was admitting defeat and giving in to being stranded. I preferred to see my night ahead in the cave as a mere resting point. A brief stopover before getting out of the park tomorrow morning. I was sticking to whatever story put my mind at ease. Realistically, this night would be anything but brief.

And I thought a night sleeping without Dale had sucked.

Dale. Where was he right now? I conjured pictures of him on his couch in his cozy cabin with Gypsy across his lap and Zynk recovering at his feet. The flames from the fireplace danced in Dale’s emerald eyes. Why did it feel like a million days had passed since I’d seen him?

If only I didn’t have to go home to New York.

I shook my head in the darkness. What was the point? Assuming I got out of my current mess, I was heading back to New York where I belonged. Where it was safe. Ha! New York City? Safe? Shit, this was all backwards.

I shifted and pulled my arms out of the sleeves of my jacket. Jamming my hands into the pockets of my fleece sweatshirt underneath, I attempted to warm my fingers. Inside my left pocket, my hand closed around something. I felt around the contours of the object until I had to unzip my jacket and take a look.

When I opened my palm and shuffled over to the cave’s opening to get some light, my eyes filled. Then came the flood.

A stupid dog treat. One of a couple I’d stuffed into my pocket when I took Zynk to the market. Seeing it now, however, pushed me over the edge. What I wouldn’t give to have that dog—and the man that owned him—with me right now.

I let the tears pour down my cheeks until my face was raw with cold. Peering down at the dog treat, logical Alanna took over again, and I ate it. Didn’t taste good. Didn’t taste bad. Tasted a little like the pork chops my dad used to cook to death. Maybe I’d emerge from all this with a healthy, shiny coat and tartar-free teeth at least.

My eyelids drooped, though my brain screamed to keep a sharp lookout for Brian or bears or wolves or any number of monsters lurking about the area. Everything ached from running, and my stomach rumbled angrily. Shifting again, I slid down to lay on the pine boughs, my hood acting as a meager pillow. I fell asleep to the sound of owl hoots and thinking of Ram’s chicken wings.

****

“Alanna…Alanna…” a voice purred in my ear. I shivered with cold and wrapped my arms tighter around my torso underneath my jacket. “Wake up.”

A hand loosened my scarf and caressed my cheek, fingertips hot against my frosty skin. I pushed toward them and opened my eyes.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Surprise.” Brian crouched over me. He clamped his hand over my mouth, stifling the scream ready to erupt. “Good morning, sweetheart. I see you’ve found yourself a cozy hideaway here. Not hidden enough, though, I’m afraid. I’ve played this game long enough to be skilled at it.”

He winced and groaned as I slid my arms into the sleeves of my jacket and struggled against him. My eyes grazed over his shoulder where a deep crimson splotch stained his jacket.

“Yeah, you got me good.” Brian tightened his grip on my mouth, taking his other hand and grabbing my wrists to stop my hands from battering his chest. “Kept me up all night. Used almost everything in the first aid kit to stop the bleeding.” He slid his hand off my mouth and plunged into the pockets of my jacket, then my jeans until he found the multi-tool.

He moved his shoulder and held up my knife, my only hope. “You didn’t think a little slice would keep me from finishing what I’d started, now did you?” His lips curled smugly as he removed his hat and angled his head toward me. “If this didn’t keep me down, nothing will.”

Again his scarred scalp filled my vision, and I wriggled wildly, trying to free myself from Brian’s iron grasp.

“You’re not being very gracious.” He shook his head and pocketed my knife. “I mean, I bought you a muffin, invited you out to fly with me, let you cry and mope about Ramsden. The least you could do is cooperate.”

I kicked out. My ankle caused me to cry in agony, but I pounded him in the chest. He stumbled back a bit, his bent legs unsteady beneath him. I tried to squeeze past him and leave the cave, but Brian was on his feet in seconds. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me to the ground. I was too slow with my busted ankle. I landed with a thud on the hard, uneven floor of the cave. My palms dug into the jagged rocks, and my forehead slammed into the cave wall. Blood trickled down my temple.

“You’re only making it harder on yourself.” Brian repositioned both of us so he had a fistful of my hair. He wrenched it, jerking my head back so I could only look at the cave’s ceiling. Coming close to my ear, Brian rubbed his cheek against mine. A whimper slithered out of my throat, and Brian groaned in pleasure.

“There’s something about a woman in distress I can’t resist.” He inhaled deeply. “Even if I’m the one causing the distress.” Brian nosed around my ear and down my neck. I had been cold only moments before while I slept, but now my blood pumped at full throttle, and an adrenaline-induced sweat coated my body.

Think, Cormac! Do something!

Brian’s grip on my hair let up a little, and I was able to level out my head. My neck muscles had been pulled back so far that turning from side to side was painful.

“Now where was I?” Brian said. “Ah, yes, I’ve got a tattoo to finish.” He pushed me until I was lying on the cave floor, his bulk pinning me in place. He nudged the flap in my jeans aside and dug in his backpack. His fingers closed around the ink gun as he bent over my leg.

“Not enough light in here,” he mumbled. He gripped my biceps and yanked me to my feet. I let out a cry as sharp pains stabbed at my ankle.

“C’mon. And don’t fuck with me anymore.” His voice was raspy, full of need and anger at the same time.

Supporting my weight, he dragged me behind him as he turned toward the cave opening. My ankle was on fire, the pain vibrating up my entire leg. When Brian froze in his tracks in front of me, I bumped into his back, not ready for such an abrupt stop. With his fingers digging into my arm through my jacket, I’d only been thinking of what my next step would be.

“Don’t move,” a calm voice ordered. A familiar voice.

I peered around Brian’s shoulder where the barrel of a gun pointed at his chest. I gasped as Brain raised one of his hands to his head. The gun’s handler remained out of view in the faint morning light.

“Come out slowly.”

“We’re camping,” Brian said. “Me and my girl.”

“I don’t like the way your camping trips have been ending lately,” the voice said. “Both hands on your head and come out slowly.”

“We’re not doing anything wrong here,” Brian countered.

“Didn’t say you were. Feel guilty, Turner?”

“How do you know my name?” Brian lowered his hand.

“I make it point to know the names of assholes that kill in my town. Keep that hand up and get the other one up there.” The barrel of the gun pointed upward for a moment and then leveled back toward Brian’s chest. “Alanna?”

Shock zipped through me at the sound of my name.

“Alanna, are you in there? It’s Jake.”

Jake! I moved to hobble around Brian, but he tightened his grip on me and blocked my path.

“Listen, Turner, you’d better let her through. You’re all done here, you understand? You don’t get to add Alanna to your list of bodies,” Jake said. “Now step aside and let her pass.”

“Why do you care? She isn’t one of yours. She’s New York trash I’m going to take to the curb for you. Besides, the way I see it, I could easily wrestle that gun from you.”

Brian took a step forward, but two uniformed police officers emerged from behind the trees to flank Jake. Brian stopped, but I still couldn’t get around him.

“Let me introduce you to my backup,” Jake said. “Policing 101. Never go into a scene where there might be a lunatic without backup.”

And then I heard it. Didn’t I? That magical sound. Faint, but there. Growing louder by the second.

I pushed Brian aside again to get to the sound, nearly knocking him over, but he adjusted his hold on me, and somehow I wound up in front of him. The barrel of Jake’s gun now pointed at my own gut.

“You won’t shoot her,” Brian said to Jake.

Jake’s gun lowered slightly, but the other two police officers kept theirs steadily aimed.

“No, I won’t shoot her,” Jake said. “But these two will do what is necessary to get the bad guy.” He motioned to the officers on either side of him. I wasn’t exactly comforted by his words.

“Maybe,” Brian began. Something clicked in his hand and the cold steel of a blade pressed against my throat. “Maybe I’ll finish her off right now.” He wiggled my knife, then rested it against my neck.

The sound. There it was again. Musical. Calling to me. If I was going to die today, it was certainly a sound I wanted to hear before I checked out.

I tried to wriggle free again, but Brian wrenched my arm back farther, and when I arched forward, the hot pain of knife through skin had me crying out.

“It’ll be a shame if I have to kill her before I get to…sample her.” Brian’s breath seared my cheek as he leaned closer to kiss it. He pressed the knife into my neck. The warm ooze of my own blood caused my stomach to churn. Jake took a step forward, his gun still lowered. The other two officers by his side, however, were ready to pounce.

“Don’t…” I said to Jake. I closed my eyes, sending a few tears rolling down my cheeks. I kept them closed while visions of my dad, Meg…Dale…flickered behind my lids. I understood why people say, “My life flashed before my eyes.” Twenty-eight years of life was barely a flash. A single heartbeat of existence.

The sound nudged my eyes open again. Clearer, louder, closer. I did hear it, didn’t I?

“Look, Turner.” Jake holstered his own gun. “Why don’t you let Alanna go, and we can get you help, okay?”

Brian shook his head, his smooth cheek rubbing against my ear. “Your idea of help would be prison.”

“Yes.” Jake took another step into the cave. Brian’s whole body tensed behind me. His grip on my arm was industrial strength, my wrist close to snapping in his hand.

“Stay right there,” Brian shouted.

“I want to make sure Alanna is okay.” Jake held his hands out.

“No, no.” Brian edged us both back deeper into the cave. “You want to take her from me.”

“She’s not yours.”

“I’ve earned her,” Brian shot back. “Her and all the other whores I dumped by the river.”

“What makes you think Alanna is a whore?”

“They all are. She fell for Ramsden and his perfect image. She wouldn’t give someone like me a chance. None of them would.”

“So you make them take the chance. Is that it?”

Jake was doing a hell of a job keeping Brian talking. With each question he asked, he took a step closer.

“I give them an opportunity. An opportunity to see what they’re missing.” Brian slid his thumb along my jaw.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Jake looked to me now. His brown eyes were focused and planning.

“She’s the best one so far. High quality.” Brian turned his head to look at me.

In that instant, Jake launched himself onto Brian and pushed me aside. Jake rammed Brian into the cave wall as I skittered away from their grappling. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and the entire cave spun before my eyes.

Jake leaped to his feet, pulling Brian up with him. As he reached for his gun, Brian plunged his fist into Jake’s stomach. Jake doubled over and when he staggered back, the red that trickled over his hands at his gut made me scream. Jake fell to his knees, and as I scrambled over to him, Brian came at me again.

He never reached me. As I shielded my face from his knife-wielding fist, the glorious sound I had been hearing changed.

Happy, playful yelps turned to howls. Vicious barks. Low, rolling growls echoed in the cave as two beasts descended upon Brian before he got to me. Snapping teeth and swiping claws tore at his clothes, baring skin. After they pinned him down, the beasts dripped saliva onto him as he writhed beneath them. When he moved, they barked in his face, threatening to bite.

I slithered over to Jake who was motionless on the cave floor and pulled him toward me, away from Brian and the creatures. He moaned, letting me know he was still alive.

“Gypsy, Achilles. Down.” Another body filled the cave entrance. The one body I wanted, needed.

The dogs sat back on their haunches.

“Go ahead. They won’t hurt you,” Dale said over his shoulder.

The two police officers shuffled in. They turned Brian onto his stomach and hoisted him to his feet. Four red slashes distorted the ferocious wolf head on Brian’s bared forearm, defeating it.

As Brian was guided out of the cave, he cleared his throat and spit on Dale. In one lightning-fast motion, Brian broke free of the officers, retrieved the dropped knife, and hurled himself at Dale.

“No!” I screamed. I tried to run to Dale, but he moved so fast I didn’t make it in time.

As the blade headed for its target, Dale arced his cast up to block the attack. The knife sank into the cast and, during Brian’s momentary confusion, Dale sent his other fist into Brian’s jaw. Brian reeled back, and Dale rushed him to the cave wall. With his cast across Brian’s neck, Dale pinned him in place.

“You tossed her aside,” Brian rasped as the officers regained control of him and Dale stepped back. “I was just taking what you didn’t want.”

The police cuffed Brian and dragged him from the cave before Dale could say anything back.

“Alanna?” Dale pulled the knife from his cast and a thin line of blood trickled out with it. “Shit.” He grimaced and dropped the knife.

“Dale.” His name was a prayer on my lips. A miracle.

His hands were on me, assessing my injuries. “How badly did he hurt you?”

“I’ll be fine. But Jake...and you.”

“I’m just nicked.” Dale pulled Jake’s hands away from the wound. I uncoiled the rest of my scarf, and Dale balled it up, pressing it to Jake’s stomach. Jake’s whole body tensed as he sucked in a strained breath.

“You’re going to be fine,” Dale said. “We’ll get you all patched up.”

After popping open his cell phone with one hand, Dale called for a medic. He focused on my forehead and throat. “You’re bleeding.”

“Ankle’s twisted too.”

Dale took my ankle into his hands. He pressed in a few spots until I jumped in pain. “Bingo. That’s the spot.”

“Probably a sprain. What happened to your head?” Gypsy and Achilles padded over to me as I told Dale what had happened. Gypsy sat beside me and then gently pawed my hand until I reached over and gave her a good scratching.

“Thanks.” I threw my arms around Gypsy and squeezed. “You saved me.” I looked to the other dog and Dale. “You all saved me.” In too many ways to count.

Dale wrapped his arms around me and just held on for awhile. I didn’t want to think about anything but being close to him. I refused to be guided out of the cave by the medics. None of my pains were as bad as the thought of not touching Dale. He pressed his hand into mine and helped me to my feet as the medics carried Jake out of the cave. Dale squeezed me, and I let myself get lost in his embrace. When his lips found mine, neither of us held back.

A fire blazed to life inside me, and I didn’t want it to go out.

Not ever.

Dale ran his hand over my cheek, and my legs buckled beneath me. He caught me in his arms and guided me out of the cave behind the medics.

“How did you find me?” I couldn’t keep my hands off Dale.

“Jake’s good at his job.” Dale shot a grateful glance to his brother-in-law lying on a gurney.

“I can’t take all the credit, Dale,” Jake said as the medics slid him into a waiting ambulance. “I wouldn’t have found Alanna without you and the dogs.”

“The dogs?” My affection for Gyspy and the pack grew exponentially.

“Yeah.” Dale paused as a medic helped me into the same ambulance. He climbed in behind me. “A gal Jake interviewed while investigating the last murders got a good look at a man and woman exiting a restaurant near the Chena River. The couple was fighting. The man was getting a little rough. The witness happened to be an artist, and she drew a detailed picture of the couple. The woman in the picture matched one of the bodies they’d found exactly, so Jake figured her depiction of the man was right on as well. Jake got the local networks to plaster the sketch of the man all over the news.”

Dale interlaced his fingers with mine as he sat next to me. He pulled my hand into his lap, and I had a hard time not putting the rest of myself there.

“I was moping at home as only a man who thinks he’s lost a woman like you can mope.” He peeked at me through his long lashes. It took all my resolve not to grab a fistful of his jacket and pull him to me.

“As soon as the sketch came up on the TV, Zynk went wild even with his hurt leg. He rushed the TV and growled like I’ve never heard him do before. When the picture was gone, he paced back and forth across the living room like a caged beast. Zynk finally came over to me and yanked on the end of my jeans.”

Dale stretched out his leg to display the shredded denim around his ankle. “I thought the sketch looked like Turner, though I’d only met him once on the snowmobile. Then I remembered you saying that Zynk had acted weird at the market. Turner must have been following you, snooping around too. Then I realized he was with you, flying over McKinley. Besides, I figured I’d better do something before Zynk chewed my skin down to the bone.”

“That’s when Dale called me.” Jake shifted and groaned on the gurney. “We found the Super Cub and the small camp Turner had made.” He coughed as a medic took his vitals. “Once we saw the cut ropes, we hoped you’d gotten away.”

“I did, but Brian found me this morning. I’d run out of strategies.” I shuddered, and Dale pulled me closer to him.

I leaned my head on Dale’s shoulder, and he caressed my hair, dropping light kisses on my forehead and cheek. “If he had…God, Alanna…”

His face contorted in grief. I cupped his whiskered chin in my palm.

“He didn’t. Thanks to you guys, he didn’t.” I took Jake’s hand and squeezed it.

“And he won’t get anyone else either,” Jake said.

The officers escorted Brian past the still open doors of the ambulance and into the squad car. Gypsy and Achilles bared their teeth again, and a line of fur rose along their spines as they prepared to lunge.

“They look like wolves,” I said, marveling over their strength and instincts.

“And they’ll defend their pack.” Dale traced his finger along my cheek. “Even the human members.”

“It’s time to patch up these members.” The medic pointed to Jake and my swollen ankle. “Those dogs can’t come in here.”

“But they’re heroes,” I said.

“Sorry. They’re dogs.” The medic shook his head.

“Go,” I said to Dale as he looked back at Jake and me and then to his dogs. “I’ll stay with Jake. Get Selia and meet us at the hospital. Your arm needs to be looked at too.”

Following a fiery kiss, one I wanted to box and save, Dale hopped out of the ambulance. Gypsy and Achilles followed him, and I had to keep myself from doing the same.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I can use the crutches, Dale,” I protested as he carried me through the door into his kitchen.

“I know, but carrying you is fun.” He nuzzled my neck with his nose, letting his lips skim along my skin.

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” I nibbled on his bottom lip as he lowered both of us to his couch. He broke away for a heartbeat to prop my wrapped ankle onto a pillow and then was right back beside me, taking off my jacket. After teasing my lips more, he wriggled out of his own jacket and tossed it to the recliner.

“Are you comfortable?” He stroked my thigh with his capable hand.

“Mmm-hmm.” I pulled him down to me and ran my fingers through his hair. Dale closed his eyes and rested his head on my chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist. The cast on his wrist was a new one with a small section cut out where Brian’s knife had left a deep enough slice in Dale’s arm that stitches were needed. The cast was hard beneath me, but I wasn’t about to complain. In the woods with Brian, I’d been afraid I wouldn’t ever find myself in this position again. The sound of Dale’s breathing against me was the sweetest melody. I could listen to it forever.

“I’m glad Jake’s going to be okay.” I twirled my fingers around in Dale’s hair.

“Yeah. He’s a tough guy. A knife to the gut is a mere inconvenience to him.”

“Selia said it wasn’t the first time he’s been hurt on the job.”

“Jake does whatever it takes. Doesn’t think twice about it.”

We snuggled for several long moments, enjoying the feel of one another again.

“I’m so sorry,” Dale finally said. His voice was barely a whisper into my sweatshirt.

I nudged his chin until he raised his head to look at my face.

“I acted like a jerk the day we went snowmobiling,” he said.

The pained look in his eyes stabbed at my heart. “I was a gigantic jerk too, Dale.”

He shook his head and propped himself on his elbow. “No. I had no right to accuse you of playing games with me. I do know you better than that. That’s not what you’re about. I was all pissy about you having to go back to New York. What kind of a bastard expects another person to drop everything she’s worked for to freeze her ass off in Alaska with a bunch of dogs?”

“You’re not a bastard.” I ran my index finger along Dale’s jaw. “Why don’t you…why don’t you come to New York with me?”

The moment I said it, I knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“There,” I said. “Now we’re both bastards.”

“I couldn’t leave the dogs, my family,” Dale said softly. He looked to Gypsy settling in beside an already resting Zynk.

“Of course not.” I nodded. “I can’t even picture you in New York, Dale. You’d hate it.” I kissed his forehead. “But I have to go back. I’ve worked too hard not to. I didn’t get killed today. That has to mean I’m supposed to keep on living. My life is in New York, but I’ll be leaving my heart here in Alaska…with you.”

Dale exhaled a long breath and nodded. “My heart will be with you, Alanna. And I can understand about working hard. I’ve worked hard too. You don’t get what you want out of life if you don’t work hard.”

What if all I wanted out of life was to love him?

After a few silent moments, I was in Dale’s arms again and traveling with him up the stairs to his bedroom.

“I’ll be damned if we’re going to waste tonight,” he said.

He set me down onto his bed as if I was something fragile and precious to him. Again, he elevated my ankle with pillows and moved carefully to tug off my sweatshirt, T-shirt, and jeans. A pained look flitted across his face as he thumbed the wolf ear on my thigh, but he didn’t say anything about it. Good man. I reached under his sweater and T-shirt and pressed my palms to his bare stomach. He shrugged out of both garments. I drew in a satisfied breath as my fingers skittered across the expanse of his chest. He shuddered beneath my touch, a low hum vibrating in his throat.

“I don’t want to hurt you, so I’m going to try to be gentle here,” Dale said, his vibrant green eyes devouring me, “but I can’t make any promises.”

“I’ll risk it.”

I pulled him downward, and he rested his elbows on either side of me, hovering inches above my chest for a moment. When his skin finally met mine, a wildfire of need and arousal scorched through every part of me. I wrapped my arms around his back, kneaded the muscles beneath his shoulder blades, drew him as close as possible.

Dale blazed a trail with his tongue down my throat, between my breasts, circling my nipples with his blazing desire. I spiraled into an all-consuming bliss. Everything I had endured in Denali with Brian was wiped away with Dale’s touch. There was only him. There would only ever be him.

He slipped out of the rest of his clothes and slithered down the length of me, massaging muscles achy from my night in the cave. His hands canvassed my body, each graze of his fingertips sending electricity to all parts of me. Dale nipped at my skin, then kissed me hungrily as he slid back to my face. When his lips found mine, he feasted, teased my mouth with his own brand of magic.

I arched into him, and though a dull pain hovered around my ankle when I did so, being this close to Dale was ridiculously wonderful. To know we were moments away from moving within one another was like stepping to the edge of a golden precipice and diving into heaven. I rubbed my uninjured leg along Dale’s side, enjoying the way his contours fit against me, filling my empty spaces.

He shifted to look at me, the upturned corner of his lips igniting a million matches deep within me. As he entered my ready core, my heart thudded tribally in my ears. Or was it Dale’s heart? I couldn’t tell. He was so much a part of me now, we were like one creature, enjoying each rhythmic pulse of our entwined bodies.

Dale erupted into me with a summer sun heat, and I groaned in pleasure, called his name, wanted more. We gave all we had, held nothing back as the night stretched on in unreal ecstasy. All my senses were alive. I experienced Dale with my entire being, every last atom.

When he rolled to his side, slowly releasing his possession of me, I gasped in delight, and he draped his arm across my waist. He tucked me into his embrace and nibbled on my ear. “I love you, Gaia-girl. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, anywhere. An entire continent between us won’t change that.”

He squeezed me and kissed my shoulder. Though my body felt completely content, a single tear rolled from my eye.

****

Friday morning came faster than either of us wanted. The sunshine that spilled into the room was playful and bright, even though a dark hour waited for us. We stayed tangled around each other in bed until our stomachs rumbled with hunger.

“What can I get you?” Dale teased my lips with his.

“More of that would be perfect.” I cupped his face in my hands and brushed my lips against his with slow, easy strokes.

“I’ve got an unlimited supply of this for you.” Dale moved on to my cheek and neck with his lips.

“I’ve got an insatiable need.” My stomach growled, and Dale pressed his palm to my navel.

“God, you’re always hungry.” He scooted to the edge of his bed. As soon as his feet hit the floor, the scritch-scratch of dog paws sounded on the stairs. “Get ready.”

“Ready? For wh—”

The bounding mass of fur that came sailing at me from the hallway cut off my words. Gypsy leaped onto the bed, and Zynk limped in behind her. Gypsy scrambled over and licked my entire face, while Zynk nosed at my foot hanging off the bed. He licked every toe, and I let out a squeal more from amusement than shock.

“Hey!” Dale’s voice was commanding, and Gypsy calmed. She rested her head on her paws, and Zynk lay on the floor at my foot. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

I shook my head. “No. Just soaked me. But in a good way.” I leaned forward and rubbed Gypsy’s head. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she enjoyed the attention. Zynk whimpered and edged closer to the bed. I leaned over the side and gave him a good scratching as well. I looked at both of them and took a mental picture I would carry with me always.

“You’re in good hands with these two. I’ll go feed the others and get food for us.” Dale pushed off the bed and slipped into his discarded clothes from last night. He stooped down—allowing me to take in the incredible view—and neatly placed my clothes on the end of the bed where I could reach them.

“I wouldn’t want you to be stranded here totally naked.” He lowered his brows for a moment, re-collected my clothes, and turned to leave the room. “On second thought…”

“Dale Ramsden, Junior. You give me those clothes back right now.”

Pouting slightly, he tossed them back on the bed.

“Thanks.”

He gave me a quick peck on the forehead before leaving the bedroom. I flopped back on the pillows, listening to his footsteps on the stairs and letting Gypsy wiggle her way back to my face. Zynk managed to get himself up on the bed as well. They each let me curl an arm around their necks, and I squeezed, holding on for as long as I could. I would probably have to get a dog when I got back home. My apartment would seem so quiet, so lonely without one. My landlord would flip, but he’d have to deal with it. If I couldn’t have Dale, I’d at least have a dog, dammit.

I fumbled back into my clothes due more to the fact Gypsy and Zynk wouldn’t give me a whisper of space than to my sprained ankle. The dogs remained glued to my sides as I edged myself to the end of the bed. I sat there for a few moments, my bladder strongly hinting at a necessary trip. Dale hadn’t brought the crutches upstairs, and he’d already gone outside.

“What do you think, Gyp?” I met Gypsy’s blue-eyed stare.

She let out a faint bark and jumped off the bed. Crouching and balancing my weight on Gypsy, I hobbled, almost painlessly, to the bathroom. I carried out my business there and freshened up thanks to the dog’s unwavering dedication. By the time she escorted me back to the bedroom, Dale was cresting the top stair.

“What’s going on here?” He took Gypsy’s place and settled in under my right arm.

“I needed to use the facilities,” I explained. “It couldn’t wait.”

Dale whisked me into his arms, making me feel as light as a feather. He carried me downstairs and deposited me on one of the island stools.

“That okay?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“What’ll it be? Pancakes? French toast? Eggs?”

“Yes.”

“Alanna.” He placed his hands on his hips and scowled, but the expression wasn’t ominous on his perfect face.

“Okay, okay. Pancakes.”

“Pancakes coming right up.”

The phone rang, echoing loudly in the quiet of the house. Huffing out a breath, Dale scooted over toward the refrigerator to pick it up.

“Hello…Hey, Dad…Yeah, she’s fine…I know I called the hospital…It is good news…Pancakes…Uhhh…Yeah, sure…Bye.”

Dale hung up the phone and ran his hand through his tousled hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“Dad wants to come by and see you.” He held out his hands. “I couldn’t stop him.”

“And what makes you think I’d want you to stop him,” I said.

“Maybe I wanted to stop him. Maybe I want you all to myself on our las—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Maybe I want you all to myself today.”

He walked over to the island and bent to get out the griddle from the cabinets below. I slid off the stool and, using the island for support, scuffled over to him. When he stood, his face was twisted with emotion, and he wouldn’t look at me.

“Dale…” I turned him so he faced me and slid my arms around his waist. His hands squished me against him, and he bent to rest his chin on my shoulder. The whiskers along his jaw tickled my cheek as I leaned my head against his.

“I’m going to be doing this a lot today so you’d better deal with it.” He pulled away and busied himself with pancake preparations.

“I think I can tolerate a surplus of hugs.” I eased back to the stool and looked at him for a long, silent moment.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Memorizing.”

“Memorizing what?”

“Your face, your smile, your everything. I want to be able to conjure the image of you anytime, anywhere.”

He looked back at me as if he were doing the same. He then turned his attention to the pancake batter until Gypsy barked at the front door. I was reminded of the dogs barking in the backyard when I was home alone with them—when Brian was apparently prowling around out there. A chill buzzed through me, and Dale took my hand across the island.

He was about to say something when the doorbell rang.

“That was quick,” he mumbled as he went to the door.

“Is Alanna here?” a much younger voice sang.

“Yeah, Uncle Dale. Is Alanna here?” another young voice chimed in.

“Where is she?” a third voice asked.

“I’m in here,” I yelled, and the shuffle of boots sounded as Mick, Noah, and Riley rushed into the kitchen.

“Banana Alanna!” the three of them said at the same time.

“Hey, boys. How did you know I was wishing for you to come over?”

I swiveled on the stool to meet their faces, and they each took a turn hugging me. Noah climbed onto the other stool beside me and rested his little hands on my shoulders. He kneaded the muscles there, and I leaned my head back.

“Now where did you learn how to do that?”

“Uncle Dale said I might need to know how to do this someday,” Noah replied, his brown eyes wide with innocence.

“He’s teaching you boys well.” I laid my hand over Noah’s, and he offered me a real cherub of a smile.

“Is your ankle okay, Alanna?” Mick asked, looking at my wrapped ankle.

“It’ll be fine.” I ruffled his hair.

“Are you going to let Uncle Dale take care of you?” Riley asked.

My throat tightened so much I couldn’t answer him right away. Riley looked at me expectantly and then, thankfully, Selia and Dale came into the kitchen. Dale scooped up Riley, and the boy squealed, forgetting the question he had asked me.

Too bad I couldn’t forget it.

Selia leaned down and pecked me on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks. What about Jake?”

“In Jake’s words, ‘Selia, it’s just a scratch.’”

“Yeah, a scratch that required staples to close,” I said.

“Everything is still where it’s supposed to be. Mostly.” Selia shrugged, but she couldn’t hide the worry that flitted across her face.

“I’m heading back to the hospital once I pass these angels of mine off to Dad, but I thought you might like to know that the forensics team positively linked Brian Turner to all the…” Selia mouthed the word murders like she had done in front of the boys before. “Combined with the statement you gave the police yesterday, he’s looking at life in prison.”

I’d never sent anyone to prison. Dale rubbed his warm hand over my back and the cold rising inside me vanished.

“Pancakes,” Mick hollered, breaking the tension.

“You already had breakfast,” Selia said.

“But Mom…” Mick whined. “Your pancakes aren’t like Uncle Dale’s.”

Selia’s mouth opened in mock horror.

“Dude, you better run and hide,” Dale whispered to Mick, shielding the boy with his body. “Now, Selia, let’s be calm about this. Don’t make a scene because your own offspring prefer my superior cooking skills.”

Selia swatted Dale and attempted to reach around him to get at Mick, who giggled and ran to me.

“Alanna!”

“She’s not going to save you, kid,” Selia said. She hooked her arm around her son, placed her hand under Mick’s chin, and squished his cheeks together.

“Do you have something you want to take back, you little monster? Something about my pancakes?”

“You’re pancakes are delicious, Mommy.” Mick batted his long eyelashes at Selia.

Noah and Riley were practically on the floor in wild hysterics over their brother’s antics. Selia dropped a kiss on Mick’s nose.

The whole lighthearted scene made my heart heavy. I wasn’t only going to be leaving Dale. I would be leaving this entire family as well.

Holy Goddess, my chest ached more than my ankle.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I was well into my second round of pancakes, as were Mick, Riley, and Noah, when Ram arrived.

“You saved some for me, right?” Ram cuffed Riley playfully on the neck.

“Uh-huh, Pop,” Riley replied. “Uncle Dale wouldn’t let us eat those.” He pointed to a plate stacked high with pancakes.

“Very good.” Ram kissed Selia and shook hands with Dale. “How’s Jake?”

“He’ll be up and around in no time,” Selia said.

“He’d better be. He’s got a lot to live for,” Ram replied as he took Selia’s hand in his own.

“And he better not forget it.” Selia pulled Mick onto her lap and squeezed him. He wriggled a little but settled against her, a content look on his adorable face.

Ram turned toward me and actually dropped to one knee to inspect my ankle.

“My dearest, Alanna, it pains me to see you hurt.” He got to his feet and reached for my hand. Sandwiching it between his two large hands, he squeezed.

“It’s not that bad.” I leaned forward to kiss the cheek he presented to me.

“Not that bad. Not that bad.” He shook his head vigorously. “If I could get my hands on that Turner guy, I’d hang him by his nut—”

“Dad!” Selia and Dale interrupted at the same time.

“The boys, Dad,” Selia warned.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, but someone who behaves like Turner needs to be taught a lesson,” Ram said.

“I think prison ought to do it, Ram,” I said. “He won’t be able to do what he did anymore.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to do it if I’d carried out my plan either. His equipment would be useless.” Ram shot a wink at me, and my heart warmed in my chest. So nice having family to defend you. I’d nearly forgotten what that was like.

Ram reached for his plate of pancakes and plopped onto the stool next to me. Several bites in, he raised an eyebrow at Dale.

“Son, you know what you’re doing here with these pancakes.”

“I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

“You know it.” Ram nodded and shoveled in a few more bites. “Vince and Violet are going to stop by as well. I ran into them on the way here.”

Dale rolled his eyes so only I could see.

“It’s like we’re having a party, Uncle Dale,” Noah said as a glob of syrup rolled down his chin.

“It does seem that way,” Dale agreed.

“How come you’re not happy then?” Riley asked. “You’re supposed to be happy at a party, Uncle Dale.”

“Who said I wasn’t happy?”

“I can tell.” Riley put down his fork and hopped over to the island. Dale crouched to be eye level with his nephew. “You’re eyes are sad.”

Dale looked at Riley for a long moment, not saying a word or moving a muscle. My eyes stung, and I wished we were alone so the tears could roll. Finally, Riley threw his arms around Dale’s neck, and Dale squeezed the boy against him. When he released his nephew, he ruffled his sandy hair.

“You’re a good kid. You know that, right?”

Riley hugged Dale again.

“Go finish your pancakes before Gypsy gets at them.” Dale nudged Riley back toward the dining room table.

As Riley skipped away, Selia came to lean against the island. “I guess you’re still planning on leaving, huh?” She didn’t look directly at me. Instead, she studied her fingernails as she waited for me to respond.

“I have to leave.” The words came out as a strained whisper.

Selia nodded. “Must be a mighty fine job you got back there.”

Now she turned her hazel eyes toward me, and the full force of her big sisterly protection hit me head on.

“I didn’t come here looking for all this.”

“Maybe not, but you got it anyway. Now you’re going to throw it back at us. My husband almost died protecting you.” Fire blazed in her hazel eyes.

“Selia,” Dale warned.

“It’s the goddamned truth, Dale.”

I was hurting the entire Ramsden clan. This wasn’t just about Dale and me anymore.

“I’m not throwing it back at you.” A small flare of my own anger bubbled inside of me. I rather liked the anger. It would make it easier to leave. “I came here to do a job and go back to New York. I don’t regret falling in love with your brother, or the rest of you for that matter, but I can’t stay. Sometimes you can’t have it all.”

I slammed down my fork, and it clattered in the quiet that had descended in the kitchen. Ram came to stand behind Selia, his hands resting on her small shoulders.

“Ease off, Selia. They’re hurting enough.” He tugged her away from me, but she tossed a remorseful glance my way. She sat with the boys at the dining room table.

“We’ll sure miss you, Alanna,” Ram said as he sat next to me again. “Maybe you could come back and visit around the holidays or something. I throw a mean Christmas Eve bash every year.”

“Thanks, Ram.” I tried my hardest to keep from crumbling. “I would like that.”

Part of that was truth. I would love to come back, but another part of me wondered if I could bid these people more than one good-bye.

A knock at the front door had Dale waking from his temporary paralysis. He looked as if he were barely keeping it together as well. When he came back to the kitchen, Vince and Violet were following him.

A round of hellos and are-you-okays circulated amongst the group, and then Violet came over. I’d pushed my plate to the center of the island, my appetite long gone by this point.

“Hey, love,” she said.

“Hey,” I said.

“Come with me.” Violet walked over to the door near the garage and retrieved the crutches. I slid off the stool and eased onto them, hobbling after Violet as she led me toward Dale’s study. Vince edged Dale out to the backyard.

“There’s nothing you can say to make this better,” I warned her.

“I wouldn’t dream of trying to make this better,” Violet said. “I can’t imagine what you went through in the woods with that psycho, and I know if I had to leave Vince, I’d be in way worse shape than you are. But then again, I’ve been accused of being emotional.” She made quotation marks with her hands and flopped onto one of the chairs in the study. “Look, I’m sorry Vince and I ran out on you guys. We figured—”

I held up my hand to stop her. “Violet, it’s okay. I would have done the same thing.”

Violet nodded, looking a little relieved that I wasn’t mad at her. “Sit.”

As I lowered myself onto the desk chair, I noticed the large bag she had on her lap.

“What’s in there?”

“I heard that creep marked you,” Violet began.

“Yeah, and he didn’t finish the job.”

Violet got up and closed the door of the study. “Let me see it.”

“What? No.”

“C’mon. I’ve put tattoos on people’s asses, Alanna. I’ve seen it all. I was thinking I could fix it for you.”

“Fix it?” I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down.

“Yeah, you know. Make it into something else. Something pretty.” Violet gave me a shrug and pulled her purple hair out of her face as she knelt to inspect my thigh. She bit down on her lower lip, and I was reminded of Meg for a minute. I’d be needing Meg so much when I got back to New York. I hoped she was prepared to glue me back together when I fell apart.

“Do you think you can do something with it? I can’t stand to look at it like this.”

“How about a moon and a star? Like this.” Violet reached for a piece of paper from Dale’s desk. She fished a pencil from her bag and sketched a lovely design, one I wouldn’t mind wearing.

“It’s just right, Violet. Do it.”

Violet nodded once and grabbed her bag. She pulled out her ink gun—one not unlike Brian’s—and I tensed.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Alanna. I’ll be gentle and I’ll be quick, okay?”

“Okay.” I stretched out my leg, and Violet sidled up beside me. She turned on the bright desk lamp and pulled a marker from her bag.

“A rough draft first.” She sketched the design on my thigh, completely covering the wolf ear. She glanced at me, and I nodded my approval. Grasping the ink gun, Violet set to work.

It pinched a little, but mostly Violet’s touch was featherlight and precise. I was amazed at her steady hand and concentration. When she was done, she angled her head, inspecting her artwork.

“What do you think, love?”

I curled my torso down a bit to study the small moon and star she had so artfully rendered. Dainty. Tasteful. Sure beat the hell out of a half-drawn wolf ear.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Violet.”

Violet nodded, then squeezed my hand before she put away her tools. “Couldn’t have you going back to New York with a terrible example of tattooing. People would think Alaskans didn’t know what the hell they were doing way up here.”

She got to her feet. I grabbed her wrist, and she stopped.

“Violet.” I studied the tattoo, trying to find the right words. “You’ll…you’ll take care of Dale for me, right?”

A soft, yet sad smile slid across her lips. “Of course. Vince will too. I’m not going to lie to you, though. Your leaving is going to screw him up good. He’s not used to letting people in here, you know.” She tapped her chest where her heart would be. “That spot’s been reserved for the dogs and his family. Vince and I got lucky in wiggling our way in. I don’t think he’ll ever get over losing you though.”

“That makes two of us.” I hoisted up my jeans and draped myself over the crutches.

When we emerged from the study, everyone was out in the backyard. Violet grabbed our coats and helped me outside. The sun was shining, and most of the snow in the yard had melted away. Dale’s pack was barking as Mick, Noah, and Riley ran amongst the dogs. The sound of their laughter mixed magically with the sunshine, and I took another mental picture, savoring the carefree looks on the boys’ faces.

Selia touched my arm as Violet walked over to Vince and Dale.

“Alanna, I’m sorry. I had no right to be like that.”

I shook my head. “You have every right. Jake got hurt because of me. I’m hurting your brother. Your kind, generous, loving brother, who deserves so much more than I could ever give him.”

Now it was her turn to shake her head. “No. He deserves you, and you deserve him. Dale’s never let anyone in like he’s let you in. You’re a match, and I’m still hoping it’s going to work out.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me. Stepping back, she looked at me for a moment before turning toward the dogs.

“Boys,” she hollered.

Within moments, all three boys stood beside Selia.

“Say good-bye to Alanna, kids,” she said, her brows creased.

“Aww, Mommy, do we have to?” Mick said.

“Yes, you have to. We’ve bothered Uncle Dale and Alanna enough for one day, and now Pop is going to watch you while I go see Daddy,” Selia replied.

Three sets of little shoulders slumped, but then Riley stepped forward and hugged my knees carefully. “Bye, Banana Alanna. We’ll miss you.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay with us?” Mick said.

“I’m sure.” I gave them both a squeeze, and then they stepped over to Selia.

Noah stood before me silently, looking so much like Dale. “Maybe I’ll come to New York someday to see you, Alanna. Would that be okay?”

“That would definitely be okay, Noah.” I cupped his chin in my hand. “I’ll take you to see the Statue of Liberty. She’s a pretty lady, you know.”

“You’re a pretty lady too.” Noah surged forward almost knocking me off balance. I held onto him as if he were my anchor. Maybe if I held onto him long enough, time would stop, and I wouldn’t have to go.

Selia tugged on Noah’s jacket. “Go play with the dogs until Pop is ready, sweetie.”

Noah allowed his mother to pull him from me, but not before he sloshed a wet kiss onto my hand.

“Don’t wash that off,” he said as he joined his brothers with the dogs.

“Never,” I called back. To Selia, I said, “Thank Jake again for me.”

Selia nodded, waved, and then disappeared to the front yard as Vince and Violet each gave me a hug.

“Hope you have a good flight back.” Vince studied the tips of his boots as he spoke.

“Hope home is worth all the trouble, love,” Violet said. She hugged me again and then took Vince’s hand.

I stared at their backs as they left the yard.

“Why does it seem like it was a million years ago that you walked into my tavern and wanted chicken wings?” Ram blinked as if he were holding back tears.

“It does, doesn’t it?” I turned to face him. His hands were jammed into his pockets. “But it’s only been two weeks.”

He sighed. “If you get a hankering for more chicken wings, you hop on a plane and get your cute little ass over here, you got that?”

“Thanks, Ram. I will.”

His arms enveloped me. He smelled of chicken wings actually, and I breathed it in deeply to remember later.

Releasing me, he called to the boys and ushered them into the house. They would continue out the front door and be gone. It’d be the last I’d see of them.

Now only the two of us stood in the yard. Dale and me. The dogs had run off to a corner of the enclosure. Gypsy and Zynk had followed Ram inside.

“Funny how none of them actually said the word good-bye,” I said.

“There’s nothing good about bye.”

Dale held the gate open for me, and I wobbled past him. We went back into the house, quiet now with everyone gone. We cleaned up the breakfast mess, and Dale offered to take me back to Moose Point to pack my stuff before my flight.

He wanted to carry me to my room, but I insisted on getting there on my own. Something about keeping my distance from him. The less he touched me, the less I’d crumble.

It was a theory anyway. I didn’t say it was working.

“What time is your flight?” Dale asked as he fingered my black camisole—the one he had so enjoyed our first time together.

“Four o’clock.” I jammed things into my bags, keeping my hands and mind busy. Gypsy curled up in the corner of my room, watching with sad puppy eyes. Even she knew what was going on. What was tearing my heart out, however, was the sad puppy eyes on Dale. The green of them was washed out, as if the flame behind them had been snuffed.

He grabbed the black lace panties that went with the camisole. “Maybe I could keep these?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Sure. I won’t need them in New York.”

“You’ll find someone else, Alanna.”

“Will you?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you think I will?” I sat on the end of the bed next to him. Much too close, but what the hell. “How could I love anyone else the way I love you right now? How could I?”

I brushed my lips against his. He teased with slow pecks at first, then brought his hand up, burying it in my hair, while his lips devoured mine. The familiar heat that blazed deep inside me whenever we touched exploded. Our hands searched for something to possess, something to hold on to, something to make sure we never forgot. I was half in ecstasy and half in agony, but I pushed agony away to enjoy Dale’s kiss, the tenderness and heat of his lips, the soft, yet strong, feel of his hands.

He was the first to break away, and, when my gaze met his, I was flooded with love. A shapeless word. Not easy to define. But there it burned in his eyes. I’d never forget that look or how it turned my insides into an oozing river of hot fudge.

Dale rested his forehead against mine and traced a heart on my cheek with his fingertip.

“Drive you to the airport?”

I nodded, and he rose to collect my bags. Gypsy got to her feet when Dale did and trotted on ahead of us. I stopped at the front desk where Bear stood guard as usual.

“You’re actually leaving?” he said as he accepted my room key and the keys to my rented Explorer.

“Got to.”

He furrowed his thick black brows as if I had said something to him in another language.

“Hmph. I would have lost that bet.”

Chapter Thirty

Fairbanks International Airport sprawled out before us.

“That ride was too short,” I said.

“I even drove well below the speed limit.” Dale’s fingers drummed the steering wheel as we sat in the Tribute. “Maybe I should have broken the rules a little. Then a cop would have pulled us over. I could have taken a swing at him while you pretended to be high. He would have hauled us to the station. It would have taken all day to process us. You would have missed your flight. You’d be mine.”

“A good plan.” I chuckled because his thinking was not far from my own. “But there would have been another flight to New York.”

“Yeah. Annoying, isn’t it?”

“We can still email each other, can’t we?” I held my breath while I waited for his reply. “I don’t think I can go without any contact with you.”

The dimple in Dale’s cheek appeared as he looked at me. “Gaia-girl, your inbox is going to be flooded with Sled-dog messages. You’re going to want to shut down your laptop for good.” He twirled a length of my hair around in his fingers.

“I doubt that.”

He moved his hand so it grazed my chin, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine. I intertwined my fingers with his and brought his hand to my lips. I pressed a kiss on the back of his palm, opened my eyes, and then groaned as the clock on the dashboard changed from 2:59 to 3:00. Dale looked at the clock and let out a long, shaky breath.

“Let’s go.” He reached for the door handle.

I rested my hand on his shoulder. “No. I think…I think we should say good bye here.”

He nodded, the corners of his lips drooping. My eyes filled. A tear escaped down my cheek.

“Don’t cry, Alanna. Please.”

I managed a nod and a loud swallow to choke back the sobs ready to launch.

Dale brushed at the tear with his thumb and then leaned in close. “I hope you get everything you want, Alanna.”

Maybe I just want you. “Thanks. I’ll be looking for your name at the top of the next Iditarod Winner list.”

I looked back at Gypsy, who pushed her nose at me to lick my cheeks.

“Okay, okay.” I wiped at her slobbering. “I’ll look for your name too. And Zynk’s.”

I gave Gypsy a good rubbing. She and Zynk were like people to me. They saved lives. How many dogs could claim that feat besides maybe Lassie and Scooby Doo?

“Love you, Dale.”

“I love you.”

Our final kiss was like a movie kiss that goes on forever. I’d always wondered how the characters managed it without coming up for air. I got it now.

If you have a love like that, you don’t need air.

Dale finally got out of the car and flagged a porter to take my stuff. After insisting I did not need a wheelchair, we embraced once more, and I turned to enter the airport. Telling myself not to do it, I glanced over my shoulder. Dale, arms folded, leaned against the car. Gypsy hung her head out the back passenger window, her keen eyes trained on me. She let out a woof as Dale raised his hand to wave. I waved back and let the automated doors to the airport swallow what was left of me.

****

My plane to New York was delayed three times. A sign? Probably, but pig-headed as I am, I ignored it and got on when they announced, “Flight 508 Fairbanks to New York now boarding at Gate 3.”

I tried to sleep, because having someone knock me unconscious was an unlikely option. Unfortunately, I got stuck sitting with two newlyweds on their way home from their honeymoon. The way they clung to each other and giggled made my chest ache. I kept picturing Dale leaning against his car, looking so deliciously handsome. My whole body ached. Ached for him.

Giving up on the sleep that wouldn’t come, I fished around in my bag for my laptop. Popping it open, I drummed my fingers on the keyboard, waiting for it to boot. I opened my article document and gave it a read through. I had to admit it was my best work. Evelynne would be pleased.

But then what? Would I get the promotion? Did I really want it anymore?

Shaking my head, I made a few revisions, added a couple personal anecdotes about my time in Alaska. My fairytale time in Alaska with a prince like none other. Knowing it was foolish to do so, I opened my pictures folder and tortured myself with a slideshow of Denali, Dale, and the dogs. The last picture had my mouth turning up in a dopey grin.

A heart had been carved into a patch of snow. Inside the heart were the words Sled-dog loves Gaia-girl forever. How he managed to take that shot without me knowing was a mystery, but then again, so was my relationship with him. I mean, who falls in love over the course of a couple of days anyway? It was craziness.

But damn, it felt so right.

Sighing, I made the best picture of Dale and the dogs my laptop wallpaper. Dropping a kiss on my index finger, I pressed the tip to Dale’s face and shut down the computer.

My body wanted to shut down as well. The not-so-fun trip to Denali with Brian combined with the misery of saying good-bye to Dale and his family took its toll on me. I leaned my head back, caught a glimpse of the newlyweds next to me sucking face, and closed my eyes.

Sleep came, but nightmares tormented me. Brian tattooing my thigh. Dale and Gypsy falling through the ice on his dogsled. Jake getting stabbed. Mick, Noah, and Riley crying. Meg getting into trouble at a bar. My father dying alone in Florida. Every real and imagined horror possible crept into my subconscious at once.

And I couldn’t wake up.

I tried. In the dream. I shook myself and slapped at my own face, screaming, “Wake up, Cormac! Wake up!” I couldn’t, though.

A sharp jolt of pain in my ankle did the trick.

“Oh, sorry,” the girl next to me said as I groaned.

“No problem.” I massaged my ankle she had hit with her pink carry-on.

“We’ve landed. Do you need a hand?” the guy asked. His new wifey shot him a dagger of a look. If he’d had a tail, it would have sagged between his legs like his balls were.

“I’m all set. Thanks.” No sense in causing friction between the newlyweds. Life would no doubt take care of that eventually.

Thirty minutes later, I hobbled through the rain to Meg’s car, and she jumped out as soon as she saw me. Even in the dark of night, the concern was visible on her face.

“What the hell happened to your ankle, kid?”

“Sprained.” She took my bags from the airport porter and tossed them into the trunk.

“How?”

“Running from a psycho.”

She stopped at the passenger side door she was opening for me.

“Iditarod guy was a psycho?”

“No. Iditarod guy was perfect, but there are psycho killers in Alaska as I expected.” I got in the car, and Meg shoved my crutches into the back seat.

“Psycho killers? What are you talking about?” She slid into the driver’s seat and angled against the door to face me.

“Just get me home. Please.”

Meg nodded, started the car, and pulled into the flow of traffic. “So what about Iditarod guy?”

“What about him, Meg? He’s there. I’m here. End of story.”

“I see.” Meg chewed on her bottom lip as she maneuvered around the car in front of us.

The windshield wipers squeaking back and forth filled the silence inside Meg’s car. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the side window, watching it fog with my breath. Proof I was still alive even though my heart no longer beat.

****

My apartment was a cold, dark rat hole compared to Dale’s log cabin. Okay, so it was a well-decorated, clean rat hole, but the scent of alone hung in the air like a noxious gas. I couldn’t take in a deep breath. My lungs wouldn’t allow it.

Meg scooted by me and tossed her soaked umbrella into the holder by the door. She dropped my stuff onto the couch and flopped onto the soft cushions. Coiling her damp hair onto her shoulder, she rested her feet on my coffee table.

“You should probably get off that ankle.” She patted the empty space next to her.

Droplets of rain dribbled down my neck. I hovered, stone-still, in the threshold, staring at the stupid mat I had at the door that said, Wipe Your Paws.

Paws. Of course.

“Alanna. Come here.” Meg got up and tugged on my hand. I limped to the couch and rested the crutches against it. Easing down next to Meg, I sat and pulled a throw pillow onto my lap. Meg situated another pillow under my ankle on the coffee table, and I grunted in gratitude.

We sat in complete silence, staring into the dark. I wasn’t aware until Meg put a hand on my wrist that I’d been petting the brown suede of the pillow in my lap. When I looked down, the pillow was dotted with something wet. Meg got up and went into the bathroom. When she returned, her jacket was off and the tissue box was in her hands. She didn’t say anything. She pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to me. I wiped away the tears, but more fell in their place.

By the time Meg helped me get my coat off and slipped her arm around my shoulders, grief hit me like a tractor-trailer.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “Tell Meg all about it.”

****

“Well.” Meg folded and unfolded the tissue on her lap. My tale had caused her to join the crying. “Well,” she said again.

“Good thing I wasn’t away longer. Who knows what trouble I could have found?”

Meg managed a weak chuckle as she rubbed my forearm. The rain drummed like a funeral dirge on my windows.

“On a positive note, Evelynne is dying to read your finished article.”

Dear Meg. Always finding a silver lining for me. She unsuccessfully stifled a yawn.

“It’s late, Meg. You can go. I’ll be—”

“Are you insane?”

“What?”

“Insane. Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe.” Definitely.

“I’m not going anywhere. Whether you want it or not, we’re having a slumber party, kid.”

****

When I awoke the next morning, Meg was hogging the entire bed, her long limbs stretched out in every direction. Her snore was loud and erratic, but somehow comforting. It combated the misery.

Some of it anyway.

I rolled to my side and closed my eyes, trying for a few more winks. Wasn’t ready to get up and face an entire day—an entire lifetime—without Dale.

My mind pulled up a vision of Dale’s bedroom. The knotted pine walls. The sleigh bed. The waiting arms of an Iditarod champion and all the other glorious body parts that went along with that.

“Oh, stop,” I hissed. The world wouldn’t fall apart because Dale and I weren’t together. The world sucked because of it, but surely it wouldn’t come unglued at the seams or wobble off its axis.

I mean, I could fix all of this right now. Easily. Quit my job and hike back on over to Alaska. No big deal. Except that I hadn’t spent six years at Gaia, working my ass off to meet every deadline, to make sure every comma was in the right place, to write stories that said something. I couldn’t pack up and leave it all. I had been aiming for the big office, the big stories, the big paycheck. My arrow was so close to hitting its mark, and I wasn’t about to give that up for a silly thing like love. I’d lived for years without it. What were seventy or so more years?

A loud breath escaped my lungs, and Meg shifted beside me. I rolled to my back, giving up on the extra zzz’s attempt. Meg’s sleepy squint would have been laughable under any other circumstances.

“Morning,” she rasped.

“Yes, it is.” Grouchy Alanna in full swing.

“See.” Meg scooted up to rest her back on the headboard of my bed. “The sun still rose.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“No?” She hopped out of bed, jostling the mattress enough to make my ankle hurt. After ripping open the blinds, she flailed her hands toward the laser beams of sunlight that screamed into my bedroom. “What do you call that?”

“Unfortunate.” I rolled away from her and pulled the covers over my head. “I liked the rain better.”

“Alanna, hiding won’t make it hurt any less.” The bed bounced as she knelt and tugged the sheets until my head was exposed again.

“What will?” I met Meg’s dark eyes, seriously hoping she had an answer to this question.

She attempted to smooth her sleep-mussed hair. “Nothing I know of, kid.”

Damn.

“Why did you come back to New York?” she asked.

It was my turn to slide up to sitting. “I had to.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a life here, Meg. I’ve got a great job. One that will get even better if I get promoted. I’ve worked for it. I deserve it.”

Meg nodded as if what I had said had made sense to her. Of course it made sense. It was practical. Stuff you couldn’t argue with. And yet, the argument sounded stupid even to me.

“Okay. Maybe that’s where your answer lies. At work.” She fussed with the end of my T-shirt she had worn to bed. A cone filled with chocolate ice cream decorated the front of it.

“Ice cream.” I slipped my legs out of the covers and reached for the crutches. “I need ice cream.”

Meg reached over to my side of the bed and placed her hands on my shoulders. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning. You’re not having ice cream for breakfast. It won’t make you feel better, Alanna.”

“I’ll use extra fudge sauce.”

Meg shook her head. “C’mon. I’ll get you breakfast.” She hopped off the bed and walked out of the bedroom, gathering her long mane into a messy ponytail.

“But you can’t even pour a glass of orange juice.” I followed Meg anyway. Something to do at least.

“By get breakfast, I mean buy breakfast, of course.” Meg turned to me. “And then we’re going to do a load of laundry.” She pointed to my bags still packed on the couch. “Then we’ll buy groceries, go to the movies. Whatever you want.”

“You don’t have to babysit me, Meg.”

“I know. Maybe I missed having you around, you brat.”

She plopped on the couch and turned on the TV. Bunching her legs underneath her, she looked so adolescent I had to laugh. I hobbled over and sat beside her.

“I’m sorry.” I put my hand over hers, and she squeezed it.

“You’re allowed to be a jerk.” She kept her eyes trained on the TV. “Just this once.”

I poked her in the arm. “What’s happening with Matt?”

Her dark chocolate eyes studied my face. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“No.” I cleared my throat. “No. I want to. I want to know all is not lost when it comes to love.” For everyone else besides me, that is.

Meg twirled a hesitant finger around a length of her hair that had slipped from the ponytail.

“Out with it, Petrisi. C’mon.”

“Aside from his parents thinking I’m a bit…brazen, I think was the word his mother used…things are good.” She munched on her bottom lip. “Really good.”

A faraway grin stretched across her lips, and though her eyes were still on the TV, she was so not watching it.

“Uh-oh,” I teased.

“No. No uh-oh.” She flicked a peek toward me that was a mix between I love him and I’m scared to love him.

“You’ve already seen him more times than most guys, haven’t you? And you went away with him.”

Meg nodded. “Matt is…different. Or maybe I’m different. I don’t know.” She stretched out her legs and rested her feet on the coffee table. “I guess I’m tired of club Meg and want to be girlfriend Meg. Is that stupid?”

“No. We’re not as young as we like to think we are, Meg. I think we’re getting past the club scene.”

“You’ve been past the club scene for years now. What took me so long?”

“Just waiting for your Prince Charming, I guess.”

“Whom I found in a bookstore.”

Whom I met in Alaska.

Chapter Thirty-One

My cube on Monday morning was a jail cell. Meg had spent all weekend trying to cheer me up and, though we had laughs—it was impossible to spend time around Meg without cracking up—I wasn’t feeling much better about leaving Alaska. The whole woe-is-me crap was ticking me off now too.

“Snap out of it, Cormac. Get on with things.” But I wasn’t sure what things to get on with. I had polished the final draft of my article and emailed it to Evelynne on Saturday. I had a few ideas for a new piece, but honestly, I wasn’t in the mood today.

I scanned my desktop. The lime green sticky note stuck to my desk calendar caused me to freeze.

“Report to me directly when you come in,” it read.

Had Evelynne already made her decision? Had Hirsh and Zemmans handed in their stories? Had she picked one of them? Did I want her to pick one of them?

Grabbing the crutches, I sighed and scuttled down the hall toward Evelynne’s office. No sense in letting my list of questions get any larger.

A few hellos and welcome backs emanated from cubicles along the way, and I returned the greetings. No one had to know I was a mere shell of a person. I could keep up the charade.

Evelynne’s secretary waved to me as I approached her desk.

“Alanna, dear. It’s so good to see you.” She got up from her seat and pumped my hand enthusiastically. “Your poor ankle. Aside from that, how was Alaska?”

Ouch. “Wonderful, Becky. Trip of a lifetime.” No one besides Meg knew the real story of my ankle. Everyone thought I had hurt it once I got home to New York. Just easier.

“I keep telling Ralph we have to go there, but he never listens to me.”

“His loss,” I said.

“Indeed.” Becky put her hands on her hips and stepped back behind her desk. “Evelynne’s inside. Go ahead in.”

Nodding to Becky, I shuffled to Evelynne’s door and rapped my knuckles against it.

“Come in,” Evelynne’s muffled voice sang out.

She was sitting, the pointed tips of her green high heels peeking out from underneath her desk.

“Welcome home, Alanna.”

Home. Why didn’t it feel like home anymore?

“So sorry to hear about your ankle. Guess you had gotten used to traipsing around rough terrain in hiking boots, huh? The dry, level New York sidewalks caught you by surprise.”

“I’m my own worst enemy,” I said, feigning embarrassment at the clumsiness she thought I suffered from. She gestured to the chair in front of me, and I sat.

“Give yourself time to get back into the way things roll here in New York. I imagine it’s a different way of life in Alaska.”

“Very different.” Wonderfully different. Life-changingly different.

“Read your piece. Saw the pictures.” Evelynne extracted a mint green file folder from a neat stack on her desk. For a moment, I imagined her telling me she hated all of my work and I was fired.

Why didn’t that scare me to death?

“I’m in love with this,” she said.

Damn. Too competent for my own good.

“The images you captured in Denali are impressive. Your facts, as usual, are in order, and your personal reactions are poetic, Alanna. Looking at what you’ve given me, I feel as if I’ve been to Denali.”

“Thanks, Evelynne. It’s easy to be poetic when you’re surrounded by natural beauty as powerful as Denali’s.” A hot Alaskan musher as your tour guide doesn’t hurt either.

“I can tell you fell in love with Alaska.”

No. I fell in love in Alaska. “It’s a wonderful place.” With wonderful people.

Evelynne studied me for an uncomfortable moment. “Come with me.” She stood and smoothed her crisp, jade green blouse. “I want to show you something.”

I pulled myself to my feet and wobbled along behind her. She led me out of her office, past her secretary, and to an office one door down from hers. Opening the door, she motioned for me to follow her inside.

The office was empty save for a wide oak desk, a high backed executive chair covered in brown leather, and a file cabinet. Two walls were floor to ceiling oak bookcases, totally bare. I contained the drool, but it wasn’t easy. The urge to fill those shelves was primal. The other two walls were painted a deep yellow. The sunlight streaming in from the wide windows on either side of the desk cast a golden glow over the room. Though it was sparse, an undeniable warmth radiated from the office.

Evelynne pulled out the chair behind the desk and pointed to it. “Sit.”

My eyes met hers and she nodded, gesturing again to the chair. In four awkward swings, the crutches took me to the other side of the desk. The cushioned back and bottom of the chair molded to my body like lying on beach sand would. A satisfied groan escaped from my lips, and I clamped my hand over my mouth.

“It’s okay, Alanna. It is a great chair.” Evelynne placed her palms on the end of the desk. She lowered her head and stared into my eyes. “It’s your chair.”

“What?” The muscles in my mouth failed as my jaw hung open.

“You deserve this office, and everything that goes along with it. You’ve earned it, Alanna. Not just because of the Alaska story either. I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. Every story you do is top quality. I’m pleased to give the promotion to you.”

She extended her hand, and I shakily took it. “Th-thank you.” How often does one’s boss make a speech like that? “What about Hirsh and Zemmans?”

“Their stories were well done, but don’t have half the heart yours does. Our readers will be transported by your article and that’s exactly what we want.” She gave my hand one solid pump and then sat on the edge of the desk. My desk. “Open the top drawer there.”

I mechanically did as she said. Inside the drawer were two file folders. After opening the first one, I read the top sheet of paper inside. It outlined my new position and my new salary.

“Yikes!”

“I know.” Evelynne’s eyes glimmered with amusement.

In the second folder was a budget indicating the money I could spend on furnishing the rest of my new office.

“Yikes, again.” I closed both folders. “Evelynne, I don’t—”

“Need all this. I knew you were going to say that. And no, you probably don’t need all of it, but Gaia wouldn’t be the magazine it is today without writers of your caliber.” She walked toward the office door. Shit, I had an office door!

“I’ll have Becky get the maintenance crew to move your stuff in here,” Evelynne said over her shoulder. “You sit there and soak it all in.”

She left, and I did sit there. The chair was ultra comfortable, and the room was a blank slate I could have a field day decorating. Those empty shelves on the bookcases were my empty shelves to fill. The salary in the file folder still beneath my hand was also mine and completely ridiculous.

I reread the job description. I would have people underneath me to boss around and generally make nervous with sticky notes of my own. Maybe yellow ones. I could make deadlines and send people wherever I wanted to work on stories I invented for them. I myself could work on anything I wished.

But at the end of the day, I’d still have to go home and be alone.

“So what?” I mumbled. “This is what you want, Cormac. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be emotional.”

“Ladies first,” Meg hollered outside the…I mean, my office. She pushed past two technicians who were bringing in my computer. “Ho-ly shit.”

“You got that right.” I wheeled the chair back away from the desk to get up.

“No! Wait!” Meg yelled. “Stay right there. Be right back.” As she sped past the techs, one turned to get a good look at her retreating backside. When she came back inside, she waved her camera at me.

“Meg, I don’t—”

“I don’t care. We’re doing it.” She leveled the camera and blinded me—several times—with the flash. “This is it, kid. You made the big time!”

“I guess I did.”

“Jeez, Alanna. Try to hold back your enthusiasm.” Meg pursed her lips and shook her head. “This is what you wanted, remember?”

“Yeah. I’m excited. I am.” I wasn’t even convincing myself.

“This Alaska trip was a blessing and a curse, I think.” Meg leaned against the desk and bent so her face was inches from mine. “It got you this job, but it broke your heart.”

“I’m okay, Meg. Or I’ll be okay. At some point. Down the line.” Way down the line if the ache in my chest was any indication of how long it would take to recover.

“Hmmm. We’ll see.” Meg snapped one more photo and left.

The tech crew was nearly done hooking up my computer and as they finished, the maintenance staff hauled in the rest of my junk.

“You folks don’t waste any time, huh?” I said.

“Evelynne Seaton doesn’t like wasted time,” one tech answered, eliciting chuckles from her coworkers and the maintenance staff.

“Any particular spots you want this stuff in?” one of them asked.

“No. Put it anywhere for now.” I waved my hand around the room, feeling a little like Evelynne already.

They made a neat pile of my few belongings in the center of the room. Getting up from the chair, I hopped over to the pile and sat on the floor beside it. I dug in the closest box, which contained the stuff that was on my former desk in my former cubicle. My father and I smiled from the picture taken on the Tower of Terror in Disney World about ten years ago. Both of our mouths were open, hands up in the air. My father was about taking chances, and he had taught me to do the same.

Right now, though, I didn’t know which chance to take—the new job chance or the new love chance.

“You’re here, aren’t you? You’ve already chosen,” I said into the emptiness of my new office.

I spent the rest of the afternoon putting my things away and planning out what else I’d need to make the office an inspiring place to work. At home, I nibbled on pizza from Rita’s. Not exactly the quality of Ram’s cooking, but a good New York attempt at it.

After a shower and an ice pack on the ankle, I pulled my computer onto my lap and opened my personal email. Hoping.

“Yes.”

sled-dog16:

Holy shit. Know it’s only been a couple of days, but this is hard. Dad told me I look like a lost puppy. Umm, probably because I feel like one.

You left a sweatshirt behind. Gypsy, Zynk, and I are fighting over it.

Went to the library and Gwen helped me find all the books they had on New York. Thought it would make me feel close to you, but it only made me feel farther away.

Did you get the promotion? Is it wrong for me to wish you didn’t?

As I traced a finger over his words on the screen, a tear-filled haze surrounded me. His voice echoed in my head as I reread his message. I minimized the email and studied my desktop wallpaper where Dale and the dogs smiled back at me.

gaia-girl706:

I did get the promotion. Also had a fleeting wish that I was getting fired instead. No such twisted luck.

New York’s supposed to be warmer than Alaska, but I have my doubts. Haven’t been able to get rid of this chill deep inside since leaving you.

Wondered what happened to that sweatshirt. Hope Gypsy and Zynk let you keep it.

I hit send and turned on the TV to have noise in my apartment. The quiet was deafening. Weird. I’d lived with that silence for a while, but tonight it was giving me a headache.

A beep from my laptop shifted my attention from the TV to the computer screen. Dale was online.

sled-dog16:

Congrats on the job! I mean it.

gaia-girl706:

Thanks. What have you been doing?

sled-dog16:

Working at Ram’s Den. Training again. Building new addition to Ram’s Den. Dreaming about you every night. You?

gaia-girl706:

Writing. Organizing my new office. Eating large amounts of cookie dough ice cream. Icing my ankle. Longing for your touch. Stuff like that.

How’s Jake? Your wrist?

sled-dog16:

Jake is up and around. Slow going for now. My wrist is bugging the crap out of me. I can only do so much work on the addition to the tavern. I hate having to slow down because of it.

Your ankle?

gaia-girl706:

It’s better. Overdid it today, my first entire day on it. Have an appointment tomorrow to get it checked.

I jumped when the phone rang on the end table beside me.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Dale?”

“Uh-huh. I’m typing along, and then decided I’d much rather hear your actual voice.”

“I can second that notion. Maybe we need to invest in web cams, because I’d much rather see you as well.”

His husky laugh, even over the phone, made my skin tingle. “Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.” He waited for me to do as he’d asked.

“Okay. They’re closed.”

“I’m wearing gray sweatpants with a black T-shirt and gray socks. Gypsy is, once again, pinning me to the couch with her body over my lap, and Zynk is in the recliner. Can you picture us?”

“Yeah. I totally can. You look tasty in my mental picture, by the way.”

Another skin-tingling laugh. “I am tasty. Now describe yourself to me.”

“Red and black checkered shorts, black T-shirt that says, ‘Don’t Poke the Beast’ in red letters across the fr—”

Dale’s laughter cut me off. So musical, so soothing. I could listen to it for…for a lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he said, regaining control. “That’s a great shirt, and for some reason it makes me want to poke you all the more.”

“You poked me just fine in my black silk underwear. You don’t need suggestions on T-shirts.”

“True.” He was quiet for a moment.

“Are you picturing the black silk underwear?”

“Yep. Can’t help it. And even if it’s not, I’m picturing that golden mane of hair all around your shoulders and down your back. Your eyes are bluer than a summer sky, and your hands are dying to touch me everywhere. How’d I do?”

“You’re a damn psychic.”

“I’m working on teleportation next.”

“I really hope you master it.”

We chatted about a few other topics before Dale said, “Good night, Alanna.”

“Night. I’ll call you next time if that’d be okay.”

“Be better than okay.”

We hung up and I sat on my couch, wondering if talking to him on the phone was better or worse than not talking to him at all. How would I ever get over him if his voice was always fresh in my head, in my heart? Did I want to get over him?

Chapter Thirty-Two

The week trudged on. I went through the motions at work, pretending to be enthralled by my new position. I think I did a fairly good job fooling everyone. I may have even fooled myself a few times as I got lost in a story idea or held a meeting with the writers working under me. Couldn’t fool Meg, however, who could read me like a book. I did complete substantial amounts of work. Depression tends to do that sometimes. You become overproductive in one area of your life to conquer the gaping holes in the other areas.

My gaping hole widened each night I went to bed alone. I spent most nights wide awake thinking of Dale. When sleep did come, nightmares of Brian littered it. These horrid dreams played out every possible way I could have wound up dead because of him.

On Thursday afternoon, Meg sauntered into my office, or our office as she had begun to call it, and sat on the end of my desk. Open-toed, leopard print heels dangled off her feet as she crossed her legs.

“So, about your birthday tonight,” she said.

I held up my palm to stop her. “Meg, there is no way—”

“There is no way I’m going to ignore it, Alanna. Miserable as you are right now, I’m not looking forward to it, but we’re going out to dinner.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “We can skip it, and ouch on the ‘miserable as you are right now’ comment.”

“No. Skipping it only makes you more pathetic. We’re going to Berlina’s. Meet me there. Seven o’clock. Wear something that doesn’t look funeral-esque.”

Before I could protest, Meg slid off my desk and click-clacked out of my office.

Sometimes Meg could be such a tyrant.

****

I hobbled into Berlina’s without the crutches. My doctor downscaled me to an ankle brace earlier in the week, which looked lovely with my little black dress, by the way. Scanning the crowded tables, I found Meg and headed toward her. As I approached, I also found Matt huddled next to Meg, nipping on her earlobe.

Just what I needed. Third-wheel syndrome on my birthday. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Huffing out a long breath, I sadistically continued on my way to the table. I cleared my throat. Meg and Matt looked up as if they’d just realized they were out in public.

“Happy Birthday!” Meg got up and threw her arms around my neck.

Matt stood and pulled out a chair for me. “Happy Birthday, Alanna.”

“Thanks, Matt. It’s good to see you.” I painted on my best fake smile and sat in the chair he offered.

Once we were all seated, a waiter descended, and Matt ordered sangria. Poor guy was trying to be accommodating. I got that. Still didn’t make sitting across from the two of them any less painful. When did I get so sensitive, so petty?

When would my sharp New York edges return? I was defenseless. Damn.

Meg picked up her menu. “Matt and I were here last weekend. We had the duck, and it was downright divine, wasn’t it, sweetie?” She turned to Matt, who was looking at her through glassy eyes.

Meg elbowed him, but I read the satisfied smirk on her lips. “The duck, Matt. It was good, right?”

“Y-yes. It was.” He picked up his menu, but his eyes never left Meg. Clearly he wanted to order her off the menu.

I buried myself in my menu, hoping the night would pass quickly, but highly doubting it would. None of the over-described entrées called my name. What I wanted was tomato soup. The kind my dad used to make for me when I was a kid. He served it with a slice of buttered American bread, which we dunked into the tomato soup. That meal always made everything seem as if it were going to be okay.

“What are you going to get?” Meg tipped my menu down with her index finger.

I shrugged one shoulder.

“C’mon, Alanna. At least pretend to be happy about making it to another birthday.”

I raised my eyes to meet Meg’s. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“Again.” Meg’s gaze shifted to something behind me.

“Is this seat taken?” a scratchy male voice asked.

“No,” I barked without looking up. “Why would it be taken? I’m alone. Can’t you see that? I’m on my best friend’s date. I’m taking up space.”

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes threatening to spill at any moment.

“So I can have this seat then?”

“Yes, dammit. Just take it.” I thrust out my hand toward the chair.

“Jeez. Poke, poke, beast.”

A finger jabbed my arm, and the chair shuffled as it was pulled out from the table. No, this guy wasn’t actually sitting in the seat, was he?

I turned to blow up in this moron’s face, but all the angry words lost their sizzle when my eyes connected with two lovely green ones. I reached out a hand and then gasped when he took it and brought it to his lips.

“Yes. It’s really me,” Dale said. “Happy Birthday, Alanna.”

I hopped out of my seat and climbed into Dale’s lap, blissfully drowning in his laughter. When his lips crushed down on mine, I squeezed my arms around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. His lips were the best thing I’d ever tasted. The heat of him warmed the places inside of me that had grown icy since leaving Alaska.

When we came up for air, Dale hooked a strand of my hair behind my ear, and we looked at each other for several quiet moments.

“This is the best present ever!” I dropped more kisses down Dale’s neck.

“You’re welcome,” Meg said.

“You did this?” I reluctantly tore my gaze off Dale to look at Meg.

“Uh-huh.” Meg’s grin was ultra-satisfied. She held up her hand. “No need to crawl into my lap to thank me though.” She took a sip of her sangria. Matt planted a kiss on her cheek, and the Great Meg Petrisi actually blushed.

“Meg emailed me,” Dale said. “Described you as a ‘Sarcastic Zombie,’ I believe were her exact words.” Meg nodded when Dale looked at her. “Sounded like the ‘Cantankerous Bloodsucker’ term, Vince used to describe me. So…here I am.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” My fingers reached out to his cheek to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“I’ve got a present of my own for you.” Dale edged me back over to my chair and shook his head at my pout. “Just for a minute.”

He dug into the pocket of his jacket. When he held out his hand, a wooden, heart-shaped box sat in his palm. He placed it in my hand, his eyes darkening to a rich hunter green. I got lost in the lush forest of his eyes and almost forgot to breathe.

Dale closed my fingers around the box.

“Did you carve this?” I traced my fingers over its delicate contours.

Dale nodded. “Open it.”

I pulled off the top of the box and nearly dropped it when a diamond twinkled at me from inside.

“Emailing with you or talking on the phone is not enough for me, Alanna. Alaska sucks without you. Home is wherever you are, so marry me, Gaia-girl. Please.”

Suddenly Violet’s words flooded my mind.

Maybe you are home.

She had been right. She had been so right.

“I’ll marry you, Sled-dog, but only if you promise home will be your log cabin in Alaska.”

Three sets of eyes widened in perfect synchronicity.

“What about New York and your job and your life here?” Dale asked, taking both of my hands in his. His gaze swam over my face, wanting to believe me.

“Not what I want anymore. I want you, Dale. I want Gypsy and Zynk. Ram’s chicken wings. Noah, Riley, and Mick.” I brushed my lips against his. “I want Alaska.”

“Stole your heart, did she?”

“And she can have it. You can have it.”

I got back into Dale’s lap, snuggling close to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and I was home.

Chapter Thirty-Three
aramsden:

Read my latest story yet?

mpetrisi:

Read it yesterday. It’s the best thing you’ve written in my humble opinion. Love the column’s title. “From the Heart of Alaska” has such a cozy ring to it.

So glad writing from Alaska is working out for you.

Sucks for me, by the way. ☺
aramsden:

You could join Dale and me in Alaska. Matt seemed to like it here when you guys came for the wedding. You’re persuasive. Bet you could convince him to follow you here.

mpetrisi:

That goes without saying. ☺
aramsden:

And didn’t you love Violet? She’s like the third musketeer we’ve been looking for!

mpetrisi:

LOL. I did love her. But Alaska wouldn’t know what to do with me if I stayed long term. What would I do with all my high-heeled shoes? And you know how I feel about flannel!

aramsden:

C’mon, Meg. Just come. ☺

A word about the author...

Christine DePetrillo spends her days teaching children to love reading and writing, and her nights writing everything from adult romance, young adult romance, and science fiction to poetry. She fell in love with writing the first time she held a crayon in her hand and realized the blank wall in her bedroom was full of possibilities. Since then, she has been mystified by the magic of words and enjoys playing with them every chance she gets.

Christine’s other works include The Last Stallion, Midnight Mistletoe, and Table for Two Hearts. Christine holds a Master’s Degree in Elementary Education from Rhode Island College and belongs to Rhode Island Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and the Alliance for the Study and Teaching of Adolescent Literature. She lives in Rhode Island with her husband, two cats, and a lizard.

For more about Christine, visit
www.christinedepetrillo.blogspot.com.