Wild Men of Alaska 02 - Moosed-Up

but I believe you. But before we go any further, there’s something you need to know about me. I drive men off.” She lowered her eyes and muttered, “Or drive them gay.”
    “Eva, I’m not going anywhere, and no way in hell will I ever turn gay. I’m willing to prove it over and over and over—”
    “I get the idea.” She huffed a deep breath and tried again. “You haven’t seen me on my bad days.”
    He cocked a brow in jest. “It gets worse than this?”
    She made a startled, insulted sound. “Are you taking me seriously?”
    “No. You’re talking nonsense and on some level you know it. Eva—”
    “Listen, I’m about the only available woman in town who isn’t related to you. I’m convenient.”
    “Fairbanks isn’t that far away. I’m not attracted to you because you’re close. There are easier women to be attracted to.”
    “Hey.”
    “Well?”
    “Okay, so that last one might have been a stretch.”
    “Don’t insult us both. You need me. You love me.”
    She sucked in her breath, and he waited her out. “We haven’t known each other long enough.”
    He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her in close for a kiss. Her toes curled in her high-heeled sandals before he was finished.
    “Time means nothing. Sometimes you just know. Forget everything and just tell me what’s in your heart.”
    Eva searched his eyes and saw nothing but love and sincerity. This man really loved her. And she hadn’t shown him the best side of her either. If he could love the worst of her, they were bound to make it.
    “I love you, Lynx. Every crazy thing about you.”
    He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”
    She pulled back. “Thank you? I just told you I loved you. Reciprocate, mountain man.”
    He swung her up into his arms. “Oh, I plan to, woman.”
    Lynx carried her inside, with Kiski trailing after them trying to attack his boots. Lynx tossed Eva onto the bed, sacrificing his broken-in Timberlands to the pup, and then proceeded to show Eva in detail how very much he loved her.

    THE END

SHIVER

    Chapter One

    Aidan Harte stepped out of his rented SUV and right into Hell.
    Chatanika, Alaska to be exact where it was so cold it burned. He’d been born in this forgotten gold mining town, lost in the interior of the state, north of Fairbanks by about thirty desolate miles.
    “Well, Dad, you finally got me back here.” And it hadn’t been over his dead body but that of his father’s. Aidan slammed the door shut on the SUV. He was here to exorcise ghosts, while he closed out his father’s life. The faster he saw Chatanika in his rearview mirror the better.
    Not much had changed in the—what eleven, twelve years—since he’d last been here. It was mid afternoon and the sun was already headed to bed, it being November. Snow and ice smothered, sending the landscape into a state of unconsciousness, stunting spruce trees, and stripping birch branches until they resembled fragile bones.
    Aidan pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck and wished he’d stopped in Fairbanks and bought a parka. His winter coat, which was perfectly adequate for Seattle, might as well have been a windbreaker in this hostile environment.
    The outside thermometer on the Tahoe had said two. Now with the sun setting, the temperature would drop fast. Predicted temp fo r tonight was negative fifteen.
    Aidan picked his way toward the family homestead, his feet crunching through the ice-crusted snow. The cabin’s roof hung precariously over the rotted porch. The porch had been rotting when he’d last been here the summer he’d turned eighteen. He’d clearly remembered falling through and cutting up his leg. And the kiss he’d received from Raven Maiski. She’d had the power to drive more than pain away with her kisses.
    It was eerily quiet. Spooky. The kind of night where you could hear yourself breathe and shadows took on a life of their own. He approached the makeshift fence made of twisted chain link and sharp, rusted barbwire. A chain and corroded padlock secured the front gate as well as a screaming red no trespassing sign. He should have figured this. Earl Harte had always been under the delusion everyone was out to get him. Many probably were, or had been. It no longer mattered now that the bastard was dead.
    Aidan studied the gate. He could climb it and probably get cut from the barbwire or attempt to knock it down. It probably wasn’t any better built than the rotting front