Go Deep (3 page)

“Go away, Darren.”

Darren ignored him. If he weren’t the best goalie Gavin had
ever had, he’d be on the injured list by now. “The rule is, ‘Anything goes,
nothing counts’.’’ He repeated it a second time, with relish. “Get it?”

Beth’s lovely green eyes flitted from Darren to Gavin, then
down to the tabletop. Gavin watched a tinge of red make its way up to her
cheeks in a slow burn.

“That sounds very inappropriate,” she whispered.

“That’s the right word, Mrs. Coach.” Darren straightened up.
“But it’s ‘anything goes’, so you can just sit in your room and watch TV if
that’s what rocks your socks. Me, I’m planning to party.”

Beth turned a little redder.

“Only after the game,” Gavin said sternly. “If I don’t bench
you.”

“Of course, Coach. You know me. I’m all about the
dedication.” With one last wink, he returned to his table.

After a long, tense moment in which Gavin wondered if his
wife was about to walk out the door and hail the next ride north, she raised her
eyes to his.

“Wild Nights?”

He didn’t answer, letting his steady, intent gaze fill in
the blanks.
You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. But I want. I want
all sorts of things. Leave everything to me. Everything.

Chapter Three

Gavin felt Beth lagging behind as they approached the Wild
Times Roadhouse. At least she was still with him rather than demanding to be
put on the nearest bus home. The Roadhouse had been built in the late 1800s as
a lodge for trappers and fishermen. It was constructed of weathered, rough-hewn
logs hauled out of the forest one by one. The Wild Times Roadhouse made no
apologies for what it was—a place to raise hell and sleep it off afterward.

The owner, a barrel-chested older man, hurried toward them
through the living room, which was occupied by threadbare couches and an old
piano. “You the team from Fairbanks?”

“The Renegades, yep.” Gavin smiled at the ragged whoops from
his team. Not even a seven-hour drive through mountain passes could take away
their hometown spirit. Sometimes he wanted to remind them they weren’t even an
official team, just a collection of fools for hockey, but he didn’t have the
heart. “I’m the coach, Gavin Thomason. We in the right place?”

“Yessiree, no doubt about it. You got the whole place to
yourselves, matter of fact. Except in the evenings, when the living room here
sometimes turns into a hangout.”

“Much appreciated.”

“It’s my honor. When word got out the other team
canceled—and I’m never saying their name again on these premises—I told the
mayor if he could find us a new team, I’d put ’em all up for free. Can’t have
Wild Nights without a hockey game.”

“You’re a champ.”

The owner bared his teeth in a grin—revealing that half of
them were a distant memory and the other half various shades of yellow. “Was,
back in my time. Played for Montreal.”

“No shit.”

“Them were the days. Now here’s what I got for you. I figure
most of the guys can bunk up in the dorm rooms. I set aside the best room for
you and your lady here. It’s the only room with its own bathroom. Figured you
might appreciate the private nature of the situation.” He slid a sidelong
glance toward Beth, as if the presence of a woman unnerved him. Gavin had seen
this syndrome before in men who’d been in rural Alaska for a long time. They
weren’t used to the sight of a pretty woman, especially one as refined as Beth.

He took her hand and drew her closer. “This is my wife,
Beth.”

The man dropped his eyes shyly and made a move that looked
comically like a curtsy. “Glad to have you, miss. I mean, missus. You need
anything, you let me know.”

“I will, thank you very much,” said Beth softly. Gavin felt
a stab of proprietary pride. His wife was such a lovely woman. That she’d
wanted to marry a hulking beast like him blew him away. But she had, and he was
grateful.

He just hoped he wasn’t about to fuck it all up.

The owner showed them to their room, opening the door in a
sweeping gesture. “The Madame Louisey Suite, we call it. Named after
a…prominent local citizen,” he finished with embarrassment.

“Oh, was she French?” Beth looked around the room with an
expression of delight that made Gavin harden. He loved it when she showed
enthusiasm for something—anything.

“She was when someone wanted her to be,” muttered the owner.
“I’ll go see to the boyos now, if you don’t mind. Make sure they don’t kill
each other over who gets the top bunk. Don’t know why, but everyone always
wants to be on top.” Turning as blood-red as a side of beef, he backed out of
the room.

Beth didn’t notice the double entendre. “This room is adorable.
Look at that wallpaper. What are those, lilies?” She peered closer. Gavin
dropped their bags on the floor next to the bed and dragged her away just in
time. He didn’t want to scare her off already. The lilies were held by buxom
naked ladies.

He stuck his head into the bathroom. “Check this out. That
claw-foot bathtub is classic.”

The old-fashioned bathroom evoked a time when water had to
be heated on a stove and brought to the bathroom in a ewer and basin, both of
which sat on a mahogany cabinet next to a pile of clean, if ratty, towels.

“I figured you might like a bath, while I make sure everyone
gets settled in. I need to hold a team meeting before dinner.”

Beth gazed at the ancient tub, which had a streak of rust
under the faucet. Suddenly she turned to Gavin and hurled herself into his
arms. The surprise of it nearly knocked him off his feet. “You’re such a
darling, Gavin. I’d love a bath. I’m glad we came here. You were right. This is
exactly what we need, something new, don’t you think?”

Gavin hugged her close. He felt the tension in her slim
body, as if she were trembling from some intense emotion. But when she lifted
her face from his shoulder, her expression showed nothing out of the ordinary.
As he’d thought many times, if Beth had a superpower, it would be her control
of her emotions, her reactions. She’d learned it from her mother, of course,
and nothing he’d done—with his body, hands or heartfelt words—had ever put a
dent in her serene façade.

But that was about to change, damn it. Because they couldn’t
go on like this. He couldn’t go on having her close, yet so far away.

“I’m glad you think so,” he told her. He kissed her,
brushing his lips across hers, taking her bottom lip gently in his teeth. Her
scent, fresh and light, like honeysuckle growing in a forest meadow, made his
head swim. What was it about Beth that made him want to possess her
utterly—body, mind and soul?

Even marrying her hadn’t done it. She still kept a part of
herself locked deep. But he wasn’t about to give up without a fight.

* * * * *

After Gavin left, Beth ran her hand across the cool enamel
surface of the bathtub. A nice long soak would be luxurious.
Soap bubbles
playing peekaboo with her body, a man’s hand stroking between her legs, another
man’s fingers on her slippery nipples.
She shook off the vision. It was
still early, not even five. The sun would be setting shortly. This far south,
it probably set around five thirty. Where they lived near Fairbanks, it would
already be dark by now. Why not take a quick tour of Wild while the light held?

As soon as she thought of it, the idea seemed absolutely the
right thing to do. In art school she’d taken a two-week trip to Paris. Her
favorite part was wandering through the little streets of the Left Bank. She
could pretend Wild was Paris, and she was an anonymous tourist on vacation.
Gavin would be busy with the guys for a while. He’d never even miss her.

She scrawled a quick note to him, grabbed her wool coat and
pulled the door closed behind her. No lock, she noticed. Par for the course for
a hotel of this era, no doubt. Anyone caught stealing would probably find
themselves at the business end of a hunting rifle.

Outside, she felt the cold air whip off the bay and nearly
turned back. But something in the air made her blood sing. It had the salty
bite of the ocean in it, and something else, something wild and alluring. She
took a deep gulp and felt a tingle all the way through her lungs. It made her
giddy.

She tucked her hair under her hat, dug her hands into her
pockets and headed down Black Bear Road, which sloped toward the bay. Wild had
a frontier quality, a ragged-around-the-edges, ramshackle atmosphere she found
hard to resist, like a swaggering, flea-bitten kitten.

The Chow Now Chinese restaurant nestled next to the Whiskey
Gulch bar, which stared across the road at the True North Bakery. Little
whirlwinds of snow kept sweeping across the street, but none of the people she
saw seemed to notice. Everyone seemed to be in a party frame of mind. The worse
for drink, as her mother would have said. Was this what Wild Nights was all
about? An excuse to get drunk?

But no, something different hummed through the air of Wild,
something joyous and free. A group of three young women skipped down the
street, singing at the top of their lungs. An older couple, arm in arm, laughed
as the girls danced past. Beth did a double take at the sight of the older
pair. Was the man’s hand on her ass? It sure looked like it.

Was that the idea of Wild Nights? An excuse to get laid?

She hurried on.

At the bottom of the hill, the road branched. To the right
was a marshy area that bordered the bay. To the left was a large frozen lake.
The snow had been melted off to create a smooth surface for skating. A dozen or
so people swooped and twirled across the white expanse, like terns riding air
currents. How free and wild everyone looked. She bit her lip from pure envy. If
only she’d brought her skates!

One man immediately drew her attention. He wore no hat and
his black hair flew behind him as he attacked the ice with fierce strokes.
Riveted, she watched him dash to the far edge of the lake, screech to a stop in
a rooster tail of ice shavings, then hurl himself back to the other side. She
wondered if he was practicing for the game, but he had no hockey stick. And there
was an official rink for team practices. This guy seemed more like a lone
ranger.

Watching him, she lost herself in the aggressive purity of
his movements. Without realizing it, she took a step onto the ice, then
another. Then, to her utter surprise, the man changed course. In a flash, he
spun on one blade and sprinted toward her. She didn’t even have time to back up
before he grabbed her and swooped her off the ice and into his arms as if she
were a child.

“I’m Eagle,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice, as if it
were a totally normal thing to skate at top speed holding a strange woman in
his arms. Dizzy and disoriented, she clung to his body. The world transformed
into a blur of ice and faraway lakeshore. How strong must he be to lift her
like this? She was on the petite side, but still…he must be outrageously
muscular.

“You’re an eagle?” That made no sense. But then again, none
of this did.

“My name is Eagle. What’s yours?”

“Beth,” she said helplessly. “I mean, put me down.”

“You want to skate, don’t you? I saw how you were looking at
the ice.”

“I don’t have my skates with me.”

“I figured.” His body burned against hers. She saw the damp
sweat on his neck. His skin was a deep brown, his eyes even blacker than
Gavin’s. She guessed he had some Native blood, with his tilted eyes and
ink-slash eyebrows. He was so beautiful it almost hurt her eyes. She felt as if
she were a mouse in the claws of a bird of prey. “But I do.”

“You can’t just…snatch people up like that.”

He executed a fast spin that made her gasp and grip his
shoulders.

“You can if they want it. Especially during Wild Nights. But
if you really don’t want to skate, I’ll take you back.”

She didn’t answer. On her own, she never skated this
fast—probably wasn’t capable of it. Was this how Gavin and his players skated?
Fearless and swift. The feeling was incredible. She responded to it on a
soul-deep level. A feeling of power grew within her.

“Okay then,” said Eagle. “Get on my back, my arms are
getting tired.” He slid her around so she was riding piggyback. She gripped his
hips with her legs, wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The feel of his
strong body between her thighs gave her a rush.

“Here we go.” He struck out across the ice. Her wild whoop
of excitement got snatched away by the wind whipping her face.

“You’re crazy,” she shouted.

“No shit,” he yelled back over the wind. “Gotta love Wild
Nights
.”

Then he snapped his mouth shut and concentrated all his
attention on the ice in front of him. Stroke, stroke, turn, stroke. He was a
powerful skater, though he didn’t have the finesse of someone like Gavin. But
he had a sureness about him, an absolute confidence in his skills that set her
at ease.

She rode on his back and watched the world spin around them.
As they raced across the ice, she felt as if pieces of her were flying off into
the atmosphere, tumbling away like the ice shavings off Eagle’s skate blades.
The caution that would never let her skate this fast—gone. The impeccable
manners that wouldn’t allow her to relax in a strange man’s arms—gone. The
control that wouldn’t let her trust a wild thing like Eagle—gone.

His breath came in deep heaves, though he kept his mouth
closed against the cold air. She felt the rapid beat of his heart and the iron
tautness of his arm muscles. His pure physicality overwhelmed her and made her
hyperaware of her own body. A well of heat pulsed in her. Her skin felt
oversensitive, her nipples strained against her jacket. Good grief, was she
getting turned-on? Had he noticed?

She glanced at the curve of his cheek. Although his black
eyes stayed fixed on the ice, she knew he felt everything going on with her.
Excitement ripped through her. A deep throb tightened her belly. Good God,
another minute like this and she might come right here on the ice, against this
crazy man’s back.