Taming Alaska (So Not Prince Charming Book 1) (13 page)

I stand in the closet, hanging a jacket. A pair of sneakers sticking out from under a stack of old magazines catches my eyes. The previous renter must’ve left them here.

Blake grabs my waist and smooches my cheek. “Ready for dinner?”

The report of gunfire causes me to jump, but Blake doesn’t flinch. “Red saw a couple wolves snooping around the cabins. He took a shot at them earlier.”

Poor wolves. “He’s not going to kill them, is he?”

“No. Just scare them off. I wouldn’t want them to eat my baby.” His hands drift down into my jeans, setting my sex on fire.

When a knock comes at the door, Blake whisks me off my feet and pulls his hand out of my jeans. “Dinner is served,” he says.

Dinner can wait.

Julian rolls in a cart with covered dishes and yay, a bottle of champagne. I clap my hands together. When I lift off the cover, the aroma of freshly grilled salmon, spiced with lemon and dill, greets my nose.

After we thank him, Blake pulls me onto the bed and feeds me an asparagus. Fresh fruit and cream fill a bowl for us to share. I like being fed. It’s so sexy.

Each bite is scrumptious, and Blake licks the lemon butter off my lips. The taste of champagne lingers on his luscious lips. When our meal is almost finished, he stretches me out on the bed, and I think this is it.

His lips trail down my throat and onto my chest. The heat rises off our bodies, sizzling the quilt rumpling between us. His chest presses against mine, the fluttering of his heart beating against my breasts.

Just as the lump spreads in his jeans, another knock sounds at the door. So unfair. “Go away.”

Blake lets out a sigh. “Not good timing. Come in,” he says.

Julian opens the door. “We need your input for tomorrow.”

Blake shakes his head. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.” He pecks me on the lips, swings his long legs off the bed, and stands. “Stay right there, baby. I want to make you happy.”

“I won’t move.” I roll onto my stomach and kick my legs up.

As soon as he’s out the door, I get up to finish hanging my clothes. Images of him naked ramp me up and soak my panties.

The sneakers snag my attention again and stop me from thinking about him. Why would someone leave them behind?

Small flowers are stamped onto the Keds, spawning an old memory that drifts into my thoughts.

I pick one of them up and turn it over in my hand. Mom was wearing a pair like these the day we were taken, so the sight of them slams into my chest, stealing my breath.

They’re her size—seven and a half. They can’t be hers. We were taken in New Mexico, and her barefoot, headless body was found there. I swallow the tears clogging my throat. I keep telling myself that she was never here, but her shoes could be. Why leave them in the cabin for me to find?

The shoelaces are stuffed underneath the tongue. I dig them out and stumble backward. Tied at the base of a shoelace is a diamond solitaire—a rare pink diamond.

With my heart skittering in my chest, I read the inscription on the inside of the platinum band. It reads, “You own my heart.”

I fall onto the bed. The ring is hers. Why are her things here? Why would her killers taunt me? They’re here, and so am I…and so is Blake. I have to warn him.

Oh God.

I close my eyes and breathe. I wipe the tears from my eyes, smudging my mascara. I cannot cry right now. At this moment, I cannot grieve for her. I have to think, and I have to act.

Could Blake be part of my kidnapping five years ago? He would’ve been twenty-one then. Would he really hurt me? A sob escapes my lips. It’s like swallowing shards of glass in my suddenly parched throat. No, he couldn’t have. What would be his motive? His family has money.

Loki—the scar. I scratched the man who took us. He must be in his late forties or early fifties, and the other had striking blue eyes and a few strands of yellow hair that poked out from his mask.

Can I trust Blake? He brought me here, and he knows Julian.

I have to leave now, and I have to find Shane. I trust him, and he said he wasn’t far. He’ll badger me about being right so hard my skin will bleed.

I rush to the door, but it’s locked from the outside. Did Blake lock it?

Don’t panic, Cyn. Think. My backpack hasn’t been unpacked. Just my clothes that I expected to wear to the beach. I retie the ring onto the sneaker and jam both of them into the front pocket of my backpack then stuff another pair of jeans, toiletries, and panties into my pack. Food, water, and other essentials are still in there. I don my waterproof boots, down jacket, and shell that Shane made me buy. I owe him now.

How far away are we from Fairbanks? It could take days to get back there.

Another heaving sob works its way into my throat, pinching my face. My poor Mom. I loved her so much and these men probably killed her.

I check the side window that doesn’t face the other cabins. Morons. It isn’t locked. I slide it open to slip out.

The seaplane rests against the dock, rocking gently in the water. Why is it still here? Shane knows how to fly, so we could take it.

In the other two cabins, the lights are on. Shane is north of us, and I can hike along the lake. What if I become lost in the woods in the dark? And the wolves?

Blake. How could I not see this and Shane did? Blake’s charming, confident, and masculine. I’m not thinking clearly. Blake isn’t the problem.

I should figure out where everyone is, so I don’t run into them while I sneak away. But I can’t just leave Blake here. What if they were planning on kidnapping us both?

The air has turned sharply colder, so I zip up my down jacket and the outer shell I bought. I creep toward the cabin closest to me. The distant howl of a wolf makes the hairs on the back of my neck shoot straight up. I hear other animal noises, like pigs rooting in the ground.

The closer I get to the nearest cabin the louder the grunting and groaning become. I tiptoe to the window to peek inside, my heart jackhammering in my chest so hard it hurts. Julian is bent over the foot of the bed while Blake thrusts into his anus, completely unprotected. His hard cock slides in and out of Julian’s tight ass.

They’re lovers? For how long? And what about me? Oh hell, Shane is right. How can I face him? I won’t tell him.

I remember how Julian touched Blake at my wedding—way too friendly. Did Blake and he plan this kidnapping together?

I can’t stop staring at the two men in the heat of passion. Julian twists his head for Blake to kiss him deeply. Julian cries out. They’re both completely naked, and they’re both in amazing shape—bodies carved by long hours of working out. Blake’s ass is too perfect. I should’ve known. How could he do this to me?

Shane will have a good laugh at me when I catch up to him. No he won’t. He won’t ever find out.

Julian strokes his own penis while Blake jams his into Julian’s ass. They’re both panting and sweating. That should be me writhing in pleasure while making love.

How come Blake never made me scream like that? His hand helps Julian stroke his stick. Julian squeezes his eyes shut, moaning, his hand reaching behind him to massage Blake’s buttocks.

Jealousy needles me. This is my honeymoon, and he’s satisfying some man and not me.

I cock my head to get a better look. I’ve never seen anything like this. The further I lean over the more off balance I become. My arms splay out to catch my fall. They’ll hear me, so I’m screwed.

Before my hands touch the dirt, arms catch me and a hand clamps tightly over my mouth.

Chapter Twelve

Shane

Shit. I kick dirt onto the fire to snuff it out, snatch my rifle, and jog toward the sounds of the shot. Another one shortly follows and every nerve in my body fires. Two shots. One for Cyn—I swallow hard—and one for Oki? But I thought I heard his plane. I don’t think I can handle seeing either of them dead, especially Cyn. Her mother’s limp body enters my mind, needling my heart.

Dammit. I should’ve never left Cyn with Loki.

With my handgun holstered and a hunting knife in the hilt of my belt, I jog toward the cabins. I slosh through the marshy trail butted up against the lake. My flashlight is in the light backpack I carry on my shoulders, but I don’t take the time to get it out and light the trail.

I curse myself for leaving Cyn alone, though I could be overreacting, and it’s not like she’d listen to me. Perhaps her guides, Blake, and she were target shooting, but it’s dark and Loki has been convicted for armed robbery and drugs.

Maybe a bear got too close to the camp or a wolf. My stomach lurches. Dammit.

My feet quicken their pace. None of these scenarios are likely. Fuck, it’s Cyn and maybe Oki.

In the dark, I spot the yellow eyes following me. Wolves in general will avoid humans, but running from any predator is like an invitation for an animal to take up pursuit.

When the padding of paws track me, I abruptly stop and turn. They’re hidden in the shadows, and I can feel their eyes on me. I back about a hundred feet away before I swivel around and all out run.

No more gunshots break the silence. It’s eerily quiet, so a quarry of rocks drops in my gut. It takes me about twenty minutes to jog the two and half miles to the hunting cabins.

A few lights blink between the trees as I slow, and the seaplane rocks against the dock. Oki wouldn’t have stayed this late, and it wasn’t his plane I heard earlier. I half consider checking the plane first, but I need to find Cyn.

If that asshole Blake hurt her, I’ll kill him.

Creeping around the camp, I stalk to the nearest cabin. Arguing comes through the double paned window—both are distinctly male. I glance in and recognize Loki. The other man stands out of view.

I skulk to the next cabin where Cyn is peering through its window, so my jaw I’d been clenching relaxes. She’s leaning far over to watch inside, so I’m curious what holds her rapt attention.

It takes all my will power not to laugh while she peers inside where her husband is going at it with Julian. I told her Blake is gay. She’s so intent on what’s unfolding in the cabin she doesn’t hear me. I hold in a chuckle while grabbing her before she crashes to earth. I secure my hand over her mouth, so she can’t scream.

When she sees it’s me, she slaps my hand away to peek some more through the window.

“You’re warped,” I whisper into her ear, and women call men the sick, twisted ones.

She smacks me again, but it doesn’t hurt. She’s okay, and that’s what matters.

Loki walks into the room where the gay guys are coupling and sneers. “I told you Julian if I caught you like this again, I’d kill someone.”

Blake doesn’t even stop but keeps pounding Julian’s rear end, like he’s okay with others watching. “Oh, you feel so good,” Blake says, when he really needs to get the hell out of there.

“What about me?” Cyn whines almost too loud. “I feel good.”

I clamp my hand of her mouth. “Shhh.”

When Loki pulls out a hunting knife, I restrain Cyn from screaming while she kicks me. He stabs Blake right in the ass, and my body revolts, and I stumble, holding onto Cyn fighting me. She bites me hard, but I don’t let go.

“Stop it, Cyn, before you get us both killed.”

She stills in my arms, and her hot tears warm my hand holding her mouth. Could this get any worse? Yes. We could both die, but I won’t let that happen.

Blake cries out, and Julian disengages from him, clawing at his shirt to cover himself. She stares in horror as Blake spins around and Loki stabs him in the gut. I shudder. I’ve seen this insanity from Loki before. He was hunting and knifed a fox, not to kill it but to watch it suffer.

Blake clutches onto his stomach where blood spreads and gushes—a look of shock and terror stunning his expression.

“We have to help him,” she practically sobs.

“We can’t unless you want to die.”

Loki drops the knife and pulls out his gun.

I can’t see the other man entering the room, but his voice booms and sounds familiar. I hope to God it doesn’t belong to Red because that’s who it sounds like.

The gun goes off, and the bullet strikes Blake in the chest. Blood splatters everywhere, especially onto Julian’s hair and back. Before he can scream, Loki slaps his face hard. “Keep your mouth shut, or you’re next.”

A small cry gurgles in Cyn’s throat. Her hand flies up to her lips to stifle the scream. They must’ve heard us this time because Loki moves toward the window. Cyn and I flatten against the cabin’s outside wall. Tears tumble down her cheeks, and I hold my breath. From the corner of my eye, I see Cyn shaking. We need to run.

They finally leave the window. Cyn peeks back into the room to watch Blake’s body shudder then lie still on the floor.

Her eyes grow to the size of the moon. “I should help him.”

“Your gay husband is dead. He’s been stabbed and shot.”

She shoves me. “My bi-sexual husband may not be dead. Show some respect.”

I hold back my anger only because they’ll hear us. “We need to leave now.”

“Clean this mess up, pretty boy,” Red says. I know it’s him. After listening to his voice yell at me for years, it’s imprinted on my brain.

“We should get the girl,” Loki says.

“She’s locked in her room,” Red says, his voice shaky. “We can take care of her later. We have to ready our gear for tomorrow, and I thought you said there’d be no killing.”

Loki, Red, and Julian leave the cabin and head to the farthest one that is lit.

I nod to Cyn to get moving, and she nods back, pain flickering in her eyes. When I head to the trees, I don’t hear her behind me. I spin around, and she’s going into the cabin where Blake is.

After running back to her, I go inside where she is kneeling by her husband. His chest rises almost imperceptibly.

Cyn is sobbing. “Help him.”

Blake’s hand lifts to grasp her jacket. “Run,” he rasps.

“I can’t.” Cyn clutches onto him. “Not without you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with his last breath, slumping in her arms.

“We need to go now,” I say, picking her up by the hood of her shell.

“I can’t leave him,” she cries.