Taming Alaska (So Not Prince Charming Book 1) (12 page)

“It’s beautiful,” Cyn says, running her fingers up Blake’s thigh, and I don’t really like it.

He kisses her neck. “Not as beautiful as you.”

Oh brother. A smirk entertains my lips.

Oki circles around to give the couple a good view of the glacier. He tips the wing and banks toward the small clearing nestled into a crook in the lake.

She clutches Blake’s thigh with excitement as the seaplane descends toward the cabins. Three cabins are nestled into the woods, close to a small waterfall that feeds a fern-laden inlet. A black bear prowls around the rocks. His massive paw reaches into the water and pulls out a fish.

“Look,” she says. “Let’s fish tonight.”

Blake presses his forehead against hers. “If we have time. I have lots of surprises for you.”

Unlike Blake, I’ve known her long enough to know she’s faking that smile, and I wonder why.

Oki lands the plane, gliding it over the flat water toward the floating dock jutting out from the clearing. The late day sun casts an orange glow on the glacier lake. Oki motors the seaplane to the dock. When he bumps against it, I jump out and tie the plane to a cleat.

Oki leaves the engine idling. “I’ll be back by Tonakwa in a couple weeks,” he says over the engine roar.

“I should roll into town by then. I could use a ride back.” Then I’ll need to face the feds and the IRS upon my return. I tug out my backpack and rifle. “Have fun on your honeymoon,” I say to Cyn and Blake snuggling together. They can get their own luggage.

“We will,” Cyn says, all giddy.

“Most definitely.” Blake doesn’t even glance my way while his hands grapple her waist.

He hops out of the plane then extends his hand to help the princess.

“You’re such a gentleman,” Cyn says, grabbing her backpack. “Oh, I hope a bottle of champagne is waiting for us.”

“Could be,” Blake says, winking.

Cyn peers around me. “Great, we have valet to carry our luggage.”

I holster my 10mm Glock, and just as I shoulder my pack, Loki limps toward me. A wounded caribou trampled him, breaking his leg.

My jaw clenches, and every muscle in my shoulders knots. Loki picks up one of Cyn’s many bags.

“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean for my voice to sound rough, to give him any indication of my concern, but it does.

Loki gives me a lopsided grin where a couple teeth are blackened from lack of dentistry. He runs his hand under his cap and over his balding head. “Teaching these nice folks to fish, and Blake wants to do a little hunting. Why are you here? Hunting the stupid bear?”

“Yes.” I shouldn’t let him think otherwise because now I know I have to return and check on Cyn.

His blond nephew Julian trundles over to the plane to fetch some bags. He’s had a tough time finding and keeping a job, so he works for his uncle sometimes. He comes to Austin with his sister Lindsey, my ex-girlfriend, to hook up with other gay men, not much of a selection here.

“How did you get up here so quickly?” I ask Julian. “I saw you waiting tables at the wedding.”

He gives Cyn a sideways glance. “Took a plane like you.”

She studies Julian, and it could be my imagination, but she shudders.

Given Loki’s rap sheet, this keeps getting worse—a princess in the Alaskan Interior with a convicted felon and two questionable men. Once I’m off the dock, I slip the pack off my shoulders and set it up against a tree along with my unloaded Ruger 375 Hawkeye rifle. It’s a helluva gun.

Following me off the dock, Cyn is grinning, spinning around while enjoying the view. “It’s beautiful here. I love it.”

I take her aside while Blake speaks to Oki. “I would suggest you come with me, Princess. These are not the kind of people you should be hanging out with. We’ll go back with Oki.”

She laughs. “And you are someone I should be with?”

“Trust me, Princess. You should fly back. I won’t ask you again.”

“Good.” Her eyes shoot upward. “Worry about yourself, Shane. You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle myself. I’m a big girl, and I’ve got Blake.”

This is really screwed up. “I’ll be back in a couple days to check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do.” I should stuff her back on the plane and send her home. It would cause me a lot less headaches.

But if I make a scene, that could set off the fireworks with Loki.

I walk back toward Oki. “Hey, watch these guys.”

“I know. Not a fan of Loki. As soon as I get paid, I’ll take off.”

I eye Loki suspiciously while he picks up a bag. “Do you want me to stay?” I ask Oki.

“That may make it worse,” Oki says. “My gun’s on me.” He pats his jacketed chest.

“One last chance, Princess,” I say while standing closer to her.

She waves me off, but trepidation burrows into her brow. A sinking feeling tunnels into my gut, but it’s not a good idea to stick around. Staying would only arouse suspicions, and maybe I’m wrong, though I doubt it. I nod, plod off the dock, shoulder my pack, and hike toward my campsite, knowing I’ll have to return.

It’s a two-mile hike to the campsite where I’ll stay for a few days to look for bear tracks and check on Cyn. The thick forest flanks me on one side while the lake laps at the reedy edge on the other. A plane flies overhead, the roar of its engine loud and close. I don’t see it but assume it’s Oki, and some of the tension knotting my shoulders drains away.

After an hour, I’ve setup camp, put the food up high enough from scavengers, and staked the small tent. I shouldn’t think about Cyn, but I can’t help it. After paying for her gear, Blake obviously wants her to be comfortable.

With my Glock still holstered, I cross carry the rifle and leave the rest of my gear behind. Pine needles litter the forest floor, their scent spicing the crisp air. It’s calm and peaceful, the perfect ending to my rocky relationship with Niki. To a new beginning free of women, except for my problem child, Cyn. Damn her. She should’ve gone home.

Raking my hair with my fingers, I hike through the firs, quiet and still.

The bear’s hide will look good in my loft if I still own my home when I return to Austin. I wonder how much of me the IRS will take.

Passing through the copse of trees, silent as a bobcat, I veer off to the river in search of any signs of my prey. Before long I come across wolf tracks. The long loping strides are set deep into the soft, wet earth, so it’s doubtful my bear is close by.

Within a half hour, I reach the river. The water runs high and fast, churning and upheaving in unruly waves. A few more wolf prints sink into the earth along the banks. A couple turkey vultures stab at an old caribou carcass fifty feet downriver from me. It must be the wolf pack kill.

Another fifty feet from the remains, dark movement flashes in and out of the tree shadows. I pull out my binoculars. A lone black wolf lopes along the water’s edge. When I pull out my rifle and peer through the Leupold scope, the wolf comes to the water to drink.

“Bang,” I say under my breath. As if it can hear me, the wolf disappears into the woods, its dark winter coat concealing the predator in the trees.

I walk toward the carcass, the pungent stench of death tainting the air. Flies darken the tan and white hide, most of which has been gnawed down to the bone. Wolf scat forms small mounds on the ground, all a few days old.

I come upon bear scat pitted by berries and root tubers. The large, long clawed prints embed into the mud close by. I search the area for more prints and finally find the front paw that belongs to my bear. The split is apparent between the first and second toes where my father knifed the bear after it gutted my younger brother’s belly wide open. Though it’s been seven years, the painful loss is still fresh in my mind.

Skyler was thirteen. He was only four when Mom left, and I was nine.

A cool gust sweeps through the clearing. With the wind picking up, the storm will arrive sooner. The scruff on my face itches, so I rub my chin.

As I head back to camp, night drops quickly onto the interior, draping the forest in its ebony cloak.

I pull out the ring. It’s really the only money I have left, other than what I sunk into another business, until the IRS finds it. I pocket the ring and journey back to camp.

After gathering firewood for the rock pit built years ago, I start a fire. I warm my hands and heat up one of the freeze-dried meal packs—some sort of lamb stew. The fire crackles and pops, spitting embers skyward.

As I warm my hands in the fire, the distinct sound of gunfire shatters the tranquility of the woods and a chorus of howls lift their voices to the night. I jump to my feet, my heart plummeting into a black pool of despair, because the sound came from the direction of the cabins.

Chapter Eleven

Cyn

My gaze follows Shane trekking along the lake’s edge away from us. The sun is bright, and even though it’s only in the high thirties, it warms my back.

How can Shane stand to be by himself for weeks out in the middle of nowhere? It’s cold, and he’s wearing a t-shirt and good Carhartt hunting pants, and they look good on him.

I have on my magenta Patagonia pullover, matching gloves, and long underwear under my jeans, which make me look fat.

Julian grabs a bag. He seems nice and rather delicate. Shane said he was at my wedding, so he must’ve been the waiter I saw talking to Blake.

Julian’s pretty—lemon-blond hair, his shirt unbuttoned almost to his navel to show his boyish, hairless chest. What is he here for? Maybe he does mani-pedis and will touchup my dark roots. When he glances up at me with disquieting pale blue eyes, a shiver darts across my shoulders. I know him and not from the wedding. It was before that.

Shane has now disappeared into the woods, but I’ll be fine. I love Blake, and he loves me.

“Should have good fishing and great wildlife viewing,” Oki says, startling me. “The bears are still foraging for food before hibernating. A wolf pack has marked much of this area as their territory, so you may catch a glimpse of them.”

“I’ve never seen a wolf…except maybe you, Blake.” I kiss him, flicking my tongue into his receptive mouth. Just a hint of stubble darkens his well-defined jaw. A soft plaid shirt loosely hangs on that body of steel. Yum.

Blake play-growls into my ear while cradling me in his arms. “I haven’t either. I’m happy that you’re enjoying our honeymoon.”

A man suddenly appears behind Blake, scaring the hell out of me. He has red hair, tall and powerfully built, like an oil tanker. Jeans snugly hug his tree trunk waist. He’s even bigger than Shane.

Who the hell is he? Staring up at him, I swallow, my mouth going suddenly dry, and tighten my grip on Blake.

A toothpick rolls around in Loki’s mouth. “Let me take your bag, Misses.”

I hold onto my backpack and hand Loki the largest bag.

The big man and Loki help Blake lug our bags to our cabin that overlooks the lake on one side and the waterfall on the other. It’s picture perfect, other than the monster of a man.

“This is Red,” Blake says, nodding at the biggest man, “and Julian is our outfitter. From what he tells me, Loki is the best bear hunting guide in all of Alaska.” He pats the older man on the back.

How does Blake know Julian so well? They seemed rather chatty at the wedding, and he’s an outfitter and a waiter?

A small white scar cuts across Loki’s left cheek. A vein of terror seizes my throat, and I wish Shane hadn’t left. The scar could be from a cat or anything and not necessarily from me on the day Mom and I were abducted.

Julian gives me a wave before strolling toward the far cabin. His strut looks vaguely familiar and that hair and those eyes. Blake walks toward a cabin with our bags while the sun sinks behind the white-capped mountains, shadowing the landscape.

Everything’s fine. Shane overreacted, and my nerves are responding to him.

Oki waits for Blake to return, probably waiting on his pay, while I follow Red to the cabin. Shane said the cabins were rustic, but it’s nicely appointed with a king-sized bed covered by a thick down quilt. Blake wouldn’t go to that much trouble if he didn’t love me.

Red sets a couple bags down into the room. Do I tip him? He leaves before I even thank him, grunting his goodbye. Through the window that overlooks the lake, I briefly watch Red and Blake speak to Oki. Blake’s hands move as he speaks. I put on my headphones to unpack, listening to Bruno Mars and dancing to the rhythm.

After I shake my butt for a few minutes, Blake taps on my shoulder to get my attention, startling me. “Want to take a walk before it gets too dark?”

My hands run up his awesome, sculpted pecs. The loose denim hugs that tight butt of his and the bulge in his pants.

“I’d love to,” I say, letting out a slow breath.

This has turned out more fun than I originally anticipated. We walk outside and around the edge of the waterfall spilling into the small inlet. Fish swim in dense schools and move against the current. Blake holds my hand, a warm smile curling his seductive lips.

“It’s magnificent,” I say, just like my perfect husband.

“I have lots of surprises for you, and I’m going to fuck my beautiful wife.”

He keeps coming up with more, but I like the sound of the latter. “All right.” Hopefully, the surprise includes an orgasm—just one. That’s all I ask for…to start with.

“Hungry?” he asks. That thrilling edge to his voice seeps into my core.

“Getting there.” Though I could suck on him. My sex tightens with anticipation.

“I’ll let you finish unpacking while I rustle up dinner.” He leans down, his body flattens mine against a tree, and his mouth descends onto my awaiting lips. His hand reaches behind my head while he pushes his knee between my thighs, grinding his hard cock against my pelvis.

My fingers tiptoe up his solid chest. “Dinner can wait.”

His powerful body molds to mine, and I know he’ll take care of me. “This is the best getaway. We’ll have romantic nights in our cabin, spending the day on the lake or the river fishing.”

“We will.” He leads me to the cabin where I continue to unpack and he puts his clothes into the dresser drawers.