“It’s sort of embarrassing to admit but I kind of just fell into it. I’d always liked to fool around with cameras and photography and then a friend of a friend told me about this job on the internet and voila. I discovered I’m good at it and it’s very gratifying to be able to bring faraway places to people they wouldn’t have access to otherwise. Most people don’t have the luxury of starting their day with a beach-front sunrise but with my videos they can enjoy that every morning.” She slanted him a look. “In a way, it’s similar to what you do. As a guide you take people places and give them an experience they wouldn’t have otherwise. How’d you wind up in the guide business?”
“I realized as a kid just how much I love the land. I was always out fishing or trekking. I started working as a guide in the summers when I was about ten.” He shrugged. “I knew all the best spots for fishing and hiking, and tourists were a little surprised that I was just a kid but soon word got out that Clint Sisnuket knew his stuff.”
“And I bet they thought you were cute.” The minute the words left her mouth a blush crawled across her skin.
“I’ve posed for plenty of pictures over the years. And yeah, there was that whole little native boy aspect. That really worked best here, though. Cute little native boy doesn’t always translate well in other places.” Chiefly his grandparents’ home. They hadn’t cared to cart out the child who was clearly not like them.
“Do you still pose for pictures now?”
He laughed. “Not so much now. My cute phase ended several years ago.”
“Well, maybe that’s a matter of perspective,” she said with a teasing smile.
God help him, she was not making resisting her easy. “I got my degree in land management and I freelance as a native consultant on land use.” He was damn proud of that. It was a very coveted position and he tried to fill it wisely. “It pays the bills and I feel as if I’m making a difference in preserving Mother Earth.”
“So, do you have to go into an office for that?”
“Thank goodness, no. Cities make me feel as if my brain cells are being stamped out. But I do appreciate technology. Every once in a while Dalton flies me to Anchorage or Juneau for a day or two but for the most part I telecommute from home.”
“And where exactly is home?”
“About ten miles outside of Good Riddance. You’d hate it.”
Amusement warred with annoyance in her eyes. “How would you possibly know what I would or wouldn’t hate?”
“Where do you live?”
“I told you last night I live in Tucson.”
“Case in point. You live in a city, not the middle of the wilderness.”
“I live in a city because it’s easier to travel and I have the supplies I need for my videos.”
“There you go.”
“There you go nothing. That doesn’t prove a thing. Well, except that you’re a—”
“Rational man,” he said, finishing for her.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oddly enough, that’s not quite the term that came to mind.”
The woman was like a dose of positive energy. “I’m sure it was something equally flattering,” he said, laughing at her quick eye roll. What was it about her that made him feel just a smidgen more alive and tuned into himself and everyone else?
“I’m beginning to notice a distinct pattern on your part of being wrong.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, grinning like a fool nonetheless. “Is that a fact?”
“It certainly seems to be. But don’t worry, you have almost a week to redeem yourself.”
Kobuk sat up abruptly, ears alert, ruff standing
up on the back of his neck, and issued a low growl. There was a sudden spattering sound from outside.
Tessa didn’t exactly look alarmed, more like concerned. “Uh, what was that?”
In all the years he’d been guiding groups, this had never happened. It was pretty cool and pretty damn funky. Probably one of those once in a lifetime events. A dark stain was spreading down the side of the tent behind Tessa. “I’d say the wolf pack is letting us know we’re in their territory. We just got pissed on.” He spoke in a low undertone.
“Seriously?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder.
It was about that time that the unmistakably pungent scent of urine seeped into the confined space. At least the cold mitigated the odor somewhat. “Seriously.”
“Whew. I smell it.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t lean back or it’ll be on your clothes.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’d rather not wear wolf pee.”
Between them, the malamute tensed even more. “Down, Kobuk.” The dog reluctantly dropped to his haunches. “The last thing we need is a pissing contest between him and the pack.”
“Yeah. Especially since we’re in here with him and in the direct line of fire. So, what do we do now?”
He had to give her credit. Not only was she not hysterical, she seemed to appreciate the situation
and she had a sense of humor. Damn. He almost wished she’d opted for hysteria. “We wait for them to leave.”
As if on cue, a piercing howl sounded right outside.
Tess startled. “Waiting sounds like a good plan to me.”
“I’m usually right.”
There was nothing quite like getting in the last word.
“I
FEEL LIKE A HUMAN
popsicle,” Tessa said, her fingers numb inside her gloves as they closed the door to the cabin behind them.
“I’ll have a fire going in just a minute and it’ll knock the chill down.”
“Chill?” That was an understatement if she’d ever heard it. “My breath is forming smoke rings…inside the cabin.”
“We should’ve taken extra snacks with us. I was surprised at how long the wolves hung around.” He unscrewed the top off of a thermos and poured something into a cup. He passed it to her, “Here. Tomato soup.”
She sipped at it. “Nectar of the gods. And it’s surprisingly warm.”
“A good thermos makes a difference.” He selected wood from a stack in the corner and loaded it into the stove. “A little dry spruce to get it going quickly
and then the alder will burn nice and hot.” He struck a match and held it to the kindling, “You’ll be toasty in no time.”
“I’ll just settle for thawed.” Even her smile felt frozen. “I still can’t feel my fingers.”
“Take off your gloves and put your hands in your armpits.” He hesitated and then continued. “Or your crotch. They’re the two warmest spots on your body.
Just so you know.”
“Well, that’s an interesting survival skill tip. I’ll opt for my armpits this time.”
“I think that’s a good choice,” he said, poking at the fire one last time before closing the stove door.
Good grief. He was dead serious. There was an impish part of her that wanted to ask if his hands were cold and offer up her crotch since her armpits were otherwise occupied. And while the thought might dance through her head, no doubt due to oxygen deprivation compliments of the frigid temperatures, she kept the thought to herself. And actually it almost did as much to warm her up as the fire that was snapping and popping in the stove.
She’d known she was in trouble…well, actually, she’d known she was in trouble from the moment she’d met him. But she’d known she was in seriously dire straits when they were sitting in that tent this afternoon and all she could think about was how much she’d like to kiss him. He had the most tempt
ing mouth she’d ever seen on a man. A full lower lip that just begged to be licked and nibbled.
She sucked in a deep breath. She obviously was in need of additional oxygen.
“Are you okay?”
No. She was not okay because even the extra oxygen wasn’t alleviating the desire to back him up against the wall and have her way with his sensual mouth. “I’m fine. How about you?”
That earned her a strange look. “I’m fine. Are you sure you feel all right?”
“No. Not really. Is there some kind of mental condition induced by the cold?”
“Hypothermia. Do you feel drowsy? Confused?”
“Maybe a little confused.” Because surely she was confused as hell if the only thing she could think about was kissing Clint Sisnuket.
“Let me check your heart rate,” he said, placing his fingers against the underside of her wrist while he watched the second hand on his watch. A frown drew his midnight black eyebrows together. He shook his head. “With hypothermia, the pulse rate slows but your pulse is racing.”
No kidding. He was touching her. He was within heart-thudding, hormone-revving striking distance. Of course her pulse was racing.
“Uh-huh.”
He let go of her wrist and tested his fingers against
her forehead, her cheek, her neck. “You don’t feel clam my,” he said.
She was seriously in danger of melting into a puddle at his feet. Surely to God, she wasn’t in this alone. She looked into his dark eyes with their thick fringe of lashes and saw what she needed to see. “You feel warm.” He brushed his fingers against the line of her jaw. Oh, no, she definitely wasn’t alone in this. “What kind of confusion are you suffering?”
She drew another deep breath with no better results than before. “I seem consumed by the need to kiss you.”
He tensed, much like the malamute had when it had sensed a threat, but instead of retreating, he winnowed his hands into her hair, testing the strands between his fingertips. “I’ve had the same bout of confusion. But I think it’s a bad idea.”
“I’m sure it’s a terrible idea.” She couldn’t help herself. She reached up to trace her finger against the fullness of that lower lip that tormented her. She could barely breathe. “You have the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen on a man.”
With a muted groan he lowered his head and she wasn’t sure where his breath started and hers ended. And then that incredible mouth was on hers, his lips melding against her own.
Sweet.
Hot.
Arousing.
Again. And again. And one more time. She buried her hands in his thick, dark hair.
She caught the sexy fullness of that lower lip between her teeth and nibbled. With another groan, he probed at her lips with his tongue.
She opened her mouth to him. A firestorm swept through her at the sweep of his tongue into the sensitive recesses of her mouth. “Mmm.” She took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue tangling with his.
She strained against his erection, canting her hips, and his hands skimmed beneath her layers of clothes to cup her breasts. There was a franticness that had ignited from the first moment she’d seen him.
Finally they broke apart, and as if he’d come to his senses, he withdrew his hands from beneath her clothes. Tessa leaned her head into the strong column of his throat, his heart pounding against her cheek. “Oh, God…”
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until he answered her. “I know,” he said, his breath stirring against the top of her head.
He gently but firmly set her away from him. “And that’s why that’s a bad idea. We’re both here to work. You’ll go home in a week and I’ll stay here and anything else is a bad idea.”
“But—”
He stopped her with a finger to her lips. “No. I’m not a casual man,” he said. “I never have been. It’s
just not me. And there’s no room for anything but casual given how long you’re here, so there’s simply no room for anything. And that got way out of hand way too fast. I just couldn’t…”
She knew he was right. It sounded right. But it didn’t feel right. But she thought about grinding herself against him and felt the heat rise in her face. “Me too…I couldn’t…”
They each took a step back from the other, as if knowing if they stayed in that close proximity they were going to be right back where they’d just been…unable to keep their hands off of each other.
“Maybe there’s room for friendship,” she said.
His hesitation stretched between them, broken only by the snap and crackle of the wood. Finally he said, “We could try for friends.”
She nodded, feeling as doubtful as he sounded. She didn’t normally want to kiss her friends over and over and over while they got naked together.
O
NCE AGAIN, THE SUN
had sunk below the horizon, casting the world in shades of black and white. Clint and Tessa had ventured out again earlier for her to film in yet another area. He stoked the cabin’s fire. It’d need to burn all night. Actually once he started the fire, he never let it go out completely. It was far easier to rekindle than to start another fire from scratch. And the wood stove wouldn’t be the only thing burning all night.
Dammit to hell, he’d known kissing Tessa was a bad idea. No, it wasn’t just a bad idea, it was a disaster of an idea. Make that a disaster of epic proportion. All damn afternoon he’d tasted her against his mouth, his tongue. Her scent had seemed imprinted on him, marked as clearly as the alpha wolf had marked their tent earlier. That kiss had ignited a fire in him as surely as when he’d held the match to the kindling. And just as he would keep the wood stove going, Tessa would keep him going. His fire wasn’t likely to go out as long as he and she were sharing space.
And he’d better just get the hell over it because he’d meant what he’d said earlier. He wasn’t a man given to casual relationships and he’d known better than to begin something with her. But he hadn’t just wanted her, the need to kiss her had been a hunger gnawing at his gut. And rather than feeding and satisfying that hunger, it had merely intensified it.
And now here they were, cozied up in the cabin for the night and tomorrow night as well, hoping the aurora borealis made its appearance. And there was no forgetting that kiss. But he’d agreed to aim for “friends” so that was the direction he’d take.
“Are you pleased with the footage you got today?” he asked, putting their dinner on top of the wood stove to heat. Gus supplied her dinners frozen, and with the temperatures being what they were, they stayed frozen on the trip out.
Tessa was skimming the day’s taping. She sat
cross-legged on the top bunk opposite the window that would offer the best view of the northern lights.
“I’m very pleased. There’s a nice shot with two of the wolves. Hang on a sec and I’ll show you.” She glanced down at a notepad. “Here, let me back it up to this stop.” Remaining seated, she angled the camera with its lens viewer his way. It left Clint with no option except to step closer. Holding the camera, she pushed a button and he watched as a rangy gray wolf and a heavier white-flecked wolf loped across the clearing and dodged into the copse of snow-laden spruce.
It was a beautiful scene. However, Clint was more tuned into the delicate bones of Tessa’s wrist, the elegant line of her hand. She was like an ivory carving—pale intricate curves and delicate lines, yet resilient and strong.
“Nice, huh?” she said.
“Very. Lots of people who live in Alaska have never been so lucky as to see that.” He stepped away to stir the stew that was beginning to burble on the stove’s cast iron ledge, eager to put the cabin’s distance between them once more.
“And now lots of people will get to see it. Isn’t that cool?” Her smile reflected satisfaction. She clicked the camera off and unfolded her legs, dangling them over the side of the bunk.
“You really love what you do, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“It means you have to travel a lot, though.” He would be miserable. He loved the Alaskan wilderness. He’d hated Montreal. Fairbanks had been better but he’d still been happy to come home. “Do you ever get tired of that?”
She shrugged, a guard sliding into place. “Not really.”
“Anyone special waiting at home for you?”
“No. I’m something of a wanderer. I move around pretty often.”
“But there’s nothing interesting enough to make you want to stay, obviously.”
“Obviously not.” She jumped off the bunk, landing lightly on her feet. “Wow, dinner smells great. What are we having?”
He followed her lead. Obviously that particular topic was closed. “Gus’s caribou stew.”
The wood popped and snapped in the stove. Between the fire and the stew and Tessa it felt homey in the cabin. He ladled stew into a melamine bowl and passed it to her. “The spoons are in that cup on the shelf.” The cabin, which mostly housed hunters and fishing enthusiasts, didn’t have a table. “If you use the edge of the shelf as a table,” he said, “you’ll have a great view of the night sky.”
She took his advice and propped her hip against the window frame and studied the sky while she took
a bite of their dinner. “This is better than the finest restaurant I’ve ever been in.”
“What? The food or the view?”
She smiled at him over her shoulder and it felt as if the plank flooring beneath his feet shifted. “Both.” She turned back to the window, her expression of awe reflected back in the window. “Do you ever get used to it? Take it for granted?”
“No. Never.” Even though he’d only been a kid, his time in Montreal had taught him to never take the place he called home for granted. Right along with the lesson that not everyone would love this place as much as he did.
T
ESSA BURROWED INTO
the sleeping bag thrown onto the top bunk and watched the night sky through the window. Outside, the wolves called to one another with a series of howls. There was an almost comforting element to the sound of the wolves. She issued a sigh of contentment.
Clint spoke up. “You okay? You don’t need to worry. The cabin’s safe. You’re safe.”
She had deliberately looked out the window rather than at him. He was in the lower bunk directly across from her. She assumed because it afforded him the closest access for stoking the stove. She didn’t want to think about the fact that only seven feet separated them. If she didn’t look at him lying in his bunk, then she was less likely to think about what kissing him
had been like. She wouldn’t think how easy it would be to slip into his bunk with him and touch her lips to his, to run her fingers through his straight, thick hair, to trace his high cheekbones, to slide her fingers down to the penis she’d felt outlined so perfectly between her thighs earlier today.
“The cabin seems perfectly sturdy and the wolves don’t scare me. I like to hear them.”
“My people tell a legend of the origin of the wolf if you’d like to hear it.”
“I’d love to.”
There was a soothing cadence and rhythm to Clint’s voice as he recounted the folktale. Much as she was enjoying the story, Tessa’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that the cabin would protect her from the wolves but who would protect her from this attraction she had for Clint?
“T
HAT WAS FUN
,” T
ESSA
said with a radiant smile as they returned to the cabin the following day. “And I’m starving.”
Smiling, Clint hung his coat on the peg by the door and pulled off his snow crusted boots. “Your snack will be served momentarily, madam.”
Kobuk waited patiently on the mat at the front door. Clint wiped the snow from his coat and paws with a worn towel.
“It’d better be,” she said with a smile as she unwound a bright pink scarf from around her neck.
He’d learned a long time ago that guiding in the winter was much better if he took his clients out for brief periods of time and then brought them back to warm up. This morning they’d headed south, following the river’s winding, iced surface while she filmed.
Unlike the previous day which had been quiet and still except for the presence of the wolves, the area they’d found had been busy—or relatively so, as busy as Alaska could be in winter—with an abundance of small chirping chickadees and a few magpies. Tessa had been delighted by the presence of the chickadees. They actually reminded him of her—small, happy, social. And on the way back, they’d seen the wolf pack again.