Authors: Catherine Mann
He’d left Montana for Alaska looking for opportunity and adventure, and he’d found Andrea. Everything he did was for her, to give her what she needed.
For the past two and a half years, that tiny, secluded town had offered a perfect—and lucrative—conduit for smuggling people, intelligence, and even weaponry in and out of Russia.
He could stash them there until the time was right to make the next move. And never had a package promised to be more profitable than the explosive surprise in the works three days coming.
One pacing step at a time, he steadied his heart rate and his focus. He could make this happen. He
needed
to make it happen for Andrea. His knuckles skimmed the top of a honeymoon photo snapped on safari in Africa. With the larger payoff in the works, he could give her a future with more magical times like that.
He set the frame in place, carefully angled in the collection lined along his windowsill.
Now was not the time to draw attention to this corner of Alaska. Mistakes were not tolerated by his new business associates, and his gut clenched over the possibility of Andrea being widowed.
The most expedient way to keep a lid on this? Let Rand think he was regaining favor with a last chance opportunity to off Sunny Foster, a woman who now knew way too much about the world outside.
Then he would stage Rand Smith’s death to look like an accident, while planting some love letters from Madison on his person. Loose ends tied up neat and tidy.
He reached for the phone to call his wife. Damn right, people would do anything for love.
***
Walking up the narrow stairwell to Wade’s home, a third-floor apartment, Sunny couldn’t shake the sense that she’d missed something crucial back at base. She’d given her statement to the police about what she’d seen. She’d explained simply that she escorted small excursions leaving an off-the-grid community on the Aleutian Islands. Luckily—and a little
surprisingly—the interrogator on the other side of the phone line hadn’t pressed.
They hadn’t been able to hold the video conference as originally planned, due to a storm that rolled in through the islands, scrambling the satellite feed. The techies had tried for ten minutes, but only received blurry reception, so they’d opted for phone lines, which worked well enough with only the occasional crackle. Thank God, that was out of the way. Now she could focus on contacting her family.
Then what? She would be alone with Wade in his apartment. Adrenaline and want and a thousand other confusing emotions scrambled through her brain. She didn’t know what she felt anymore.
She only knew she had to reach her sister, and Wade was the one person she even
halfway trusted out here. Not that trust had anything to do with how she kept checking out the taut curve of his backside in uniform as he led her up the stairs.
Chewie’s nails clicked on the scarred wooden steps as he followed her. The base vet had given him a clean bill of health. And now she owed Wade even more.
Stopping outside the thick oak door, he pulled out his keys, unlocked two dead bolts before opening up. He spread his arm wide. “Welcome to my garret, sweet garret.”
“Thank you, really. You’re being so generous.” Careful not to brush against him, she strode past into his one-room studio apartment, sprawling and rustic.
Thick maple beams stretched across the slanted ceiling, all natural and light. Chewie lumbered past slowly, nose to the ground, sniffing as he explored the new space. The apartment itself was full of typical guy furniture, a fat brown sofa and huge recliner. An oversized television with a flat screen took up half a wall. She’d seen some like it in movies, but had never used one. Most of the appliances where she lived were older and simpler, requiring minimal power. And they always used fireplaces and wood stoves.
Apparently, so did Wade, if the massive stone hearth was anything to judge by. Chewie padded over, hunkering down to stare at the bear rug with a low growl. Finally, her dog surrendered and flopped into an exhausted heap with a hefty sigh.
Wade flipped a switch, activating track lighting along the angled ceiling over the kitchen.
“Help yourself to anything. The cabinet under the little island there has standard snack crap, chocolate chip granola bars, Pop-Tarts, and such.”
Best as she could tell, all sugary. Not much of a gourmet or health food aficionado, but somehow it made her smile all the same. Then she saw what she’d really come here for.
His dinette table sported a computer and a printer rather than dishes or even a napkin holder. Her fingers curled into a fist to resist the temptation to type away right now. Only a minute or so more and she would be able to contact her family.
She traced the edge of the dark wood table, nostalgia blindsiding her. Meals were a big deal in her family. She pressed her fingers against the ache in her chest. The skylight and wall of windows gave a sweeping view of the breathtaking Alaska Range, reminding her all the more of her family, her home. God, she loved this place, a photographer’s dream. A place where people were just as welcome in jeans and mukluks as they were in diamonds and furs.
And suddenly she realized. “I don’t know where you’re from.”
“A little of everywhere.” He dropped his green bag of gear by the sofa. “My dad was an army warrant officer, helicopter pilot. Mom was an air force reservist, a medical technician on C-130s outfitted as hospitals.”
“You’re a military brat times two.”
“Needless to say, we moved around.”
“I imagine your parents are proud you’ve continued in their footsteps.” Her father had never said anything against his son. But there were days…
“So my dad says. But I sure gave them a few gray hairs back in the day.” He walked past her almost touching, electrifying the air on his way to the stone fireplace. “I was a hardheaded hell-raiser in high school.”
“What made you change your ways?”
Kneeling, he tossed two logs onto the grate. “Oh, the hardheaded part is still alive and well. Ask anyone. As for the hell-raising?” He arranged kindling with knowledgeable precision.
“Let’s just say it ended the day I witnessed a helicopter crash. As I watched the rescuers in action, I knew right then what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”
She sensed there was more to the story, but he didn’t seem open to sharing as he kept his back to her, striking a match. “What are your parents doing now?”
“My parents have retired to Arizona, where my dad plays a lot of golf and my mom, um, shows off pictures of their grandchildren.”
“Grandchildren?”
“My sister and her husband have two kids, a boy who’s five and a girl who’s four.”
“Those are sweet ages. My nephew is only a year.” Unable to look away, she watched his big capable hands stoke the logs with quick efficiency. “His name is J.T. Most days I get to spend extra time with him, since we have a day care at the gym that my brother uses while he work—”
She stopped short before she spilled her whole flipping life story. What was it about this guy that made her babble on?
Glancing back over his shoulder, Wade stared at her so long she looked behind her… and found nothing.
“Do I have something caught between my teeth?”
He shook his head, dusting bits of bark from his palms as the logs crackled with building heat. “Nah, I’m just enjoying the view. And before you get nervous or offended, I’m about ready to fall on my ass from exhaustion and blood loss.” He winked. “I’m not a threat to your virtue any more here than I was in the cave.”
All the same his words stirred images of what they could have done in that sprawling bed of his two steps up under the skylight.
When she looked back, he’d opened a drawer on the dresser, all the wood light colored with a simple sealant over the natural maple.
He pulled out a couple of perfectly folded items. “T-shirt and drawstring exercise pants for you to sleep in.” He tossed the pile on the counter, the words Air Force stamped in blue across the front. “I’m gonna change into some sweats, in case you were wondering. And I’m gonna clean up again. The shower at base was rushed, to say the least. After I finish, we can talk about where to go next in the morning.”
He was making it too easy to lie to him.
“May I use your computer?” She scooped up the large T-shirt that smelled like him. “I need to email my sister so she can let my family know I’m okay.”
“Of course.” He leaned in the open doorway to a roomy bathroom with a spa shower.
She hauled her eyes off the glassed-in shower and the steamy fantasies it evoked.
“Thanks.”
At least she didn’t have to explain the whole phone issue in detail, how they had local telephone service available, but long-distance connections were harder to come by. And most people didn’t want either.
Being out here, things that had once seemed normal now seemed… not so normal.
“Thank you. I won’t monopolize it.”
“I’m good. I won’t go through withdrawal if I go another hour without checking
messages.” His smile squeezed the guilt inside her all the tighter.
He closed the bathroom door behind him and she rushed to the kitchenette. Dropping into the chair, she stared at the keyboard and screen for a minute to familiarize herself, then logged on to her community’s home page.
Sunny: Misty? Are you there?
She watched the cursor blink, blink, but nothing happened.
Her sister must have left the computer logged on while she stepped away.
Sunny: Wanted 2 let U know I’m okay. Got caught by the storm. Safe in Anchorage. Have help from guy who rescued me. Will b home soon.
The next part was tough and didn’t seem
right to pass along in an instant message.
Sunny: See my email. Have sad news 2 long to explain here. Love U.
Composing that email
was even tougher than she’d expected. Breaking the news of a death this way was unimaginable.
But she had to be sure Misty did not leave with the deputy. Heaven only knew why he’d gone off the deep end, but she’d be damned before he got near her sister. And she wasn’t trusting the sheriff to do the job for her in a timely fashion. The deputy was in law enforcement too, after all…
God, she sounded like a paranoid conspiracy theorist.
She logged off. There was nothing more she could do tonight. Even if she found a way to magically get back to the Aleutian Islands before morning, she was simply too dog-tired to start the climb home. Hopefully tomorrow, in the broad daylight, she could construct a logical plan to return as quickly as possible.
The back of her neck prickled with awareness, the sense of being watched. She pivoted in her chair fast to find Wade standing in the bathroom doorway again, sweatpants slung low on his narrow hips. Curly dark hair sprinkled along his chest up to his shoulders—and a small strip of gauze over his stitches, not larger than a Band-Aid. Yet a few inches lower and he could have been dead.
His eyes were surprisingly alert for a person who’d been through so much, and right now his entire attention was focused on her. “The bathroom’s all yours.”
Her throat went so tight she had to force words up and out. “Thanks, uh, I insist on taking the sofa, since you’re injured.” She grabbed the T-shirt off the counter on her way. “So don’t even try to argue some he-man chivalry stuff.”
She charged toward the bathroom, needing to put a door between herself and Wade with no shirt. Too late, she realized he hadn’t moved.
“If you say so,” he answered simply, looking down at her as they stood chest to chest in the narrow doorway.
“Thanks.” The lone word came out breathier than she would have liked, but then she didn’t seem to be in control of much about herself around this guy. “For the shirt and the Internet.”
“So you
were
able to send an email to your family.” He appeared relaxed. In no hurry to step away from her.
Her throat went dry as dust. She edged back half an inch, the doorframe not budging. The scent of his soap was so vivid she could almost imagine what his skin would taste like if she were to…
She cleared her throat and willed her heartbeat to conduct business as usual.
“I did send a note, thank you. I worry though, about it getting through, since the connection can be spotty, depending on the weather. Hopefully everything will be fine for me to leave in the morning.” What should have filled her with relief also brought a strange kick of regret over saying good-bye to this man. “I guess I should get some sleep.”
He caught her arm as she started to turn, his touch sparking off a delicious reaction inside her. “I just have one more question for you.”
Oh God, how could she have let her guard down so quickly? “What would that be?”
“Why did you kiss me out there?”
Chapter 7
Finally, he had Sunny Foster off her game. For once, he’d surprised her. Standing in the doorway to his steamed-up bathroom half-dressed wasn’t the smartest way to approach her about the way they combusted around each other. But hell, nothing about the past few days was normal, even for a guy like him who faced the unexpected on a regular basis in his line of work.
He let go of her arm and knuckled back a strand of her silky hair over her shoulder.
Strands glided over his fingers, hooking and catching on calluses the way she snagged his attention. Gone before he could catch hold.
She didn’t so much as take a step away from him, but her pupils widened with awareness until her eyes were nearly midnight black. Steam clung to his body, fogged up his insides, disarming him from the core. Who was he kidding, she heated him through and through by simply standing in front of him.
“So, Sunny, why did you kiss me up there on the mountain?” He flattened his hand to the doorframe to keep from gathering up her hair in his hands and burying his face in the mass of it all, aching to bury himself in her.
She chewed on her bottom lip. Even coated in ChapStick, it was still raw and a little cracked from their time exposed to the elements. “The way I remember it,
you
kissed
me
.”