Alaska Heart (18 page)

“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.

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!)