Alaskan Wolf. Linda Johnston O.

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how much she should look forward to her outing with Patrick Worley. He would be a real distraction to her research, if she weren’t careful. He was tall. Broad shouldered beneath his blue sweater—good thing he’d taken off the jacket that obscured that delicious view. Sharp, handsome features etched into a long face.

      And why had he sat down here? She’d had the initial impression he wasn’t happy to see her.

      “How’s your salmon?” Thea Fiske had come over to the table, bringing a basket of fresh rolls.

      “A little dry,” Carrie said. “Otherwise, it’s okay.”

      “Not just okay,” Mariah contradicted after noticing Thea’s hurt look. “Mine’s delicious.”

      Their hostess gave her a broad grin, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Hey, those mushers—they’re good company on cold Alaskan nights, honey. And that new guy, Patrick—looks like he wants to get to know you. I can tell.”

      Mariah felt herself flush. “I doubt it,” she responded softly right back. “And if so, he can hope all he wants.”

      Thea just straightened and winked. Which only made Mariah feel all the more uncomfortable—especially since, when she glanced again at Patrick, he was watching her. She had the unnerving impression that he knew exactly what Thea had said.

      But his attention wasn’t entirely focused on her. Unlike his two friends, engaged in a muted conversation together, Patrick seemed interested in her companions at the table.

      “So tell me your theory so far on the melting of the glaciers, Emil,” he said to Dr. Charteris, who had just taken the last bite of his meal. “Still working on it,” he said. “Of course,” Patrick agreed. “But—” “We’ve got a big day tomorrow, Dad,” Carrie Thaxton interrupted. “You finished eating?

      We’d better run.”

      Her husband was still chewing, but Emil agreed with Carrie and motioned toward Thea for the check.

      “Oh, no, this is on me,” Mariah said. “I appreciate your talking to me, and hope I can schedule another interview with you soon—maybe after I’ve gotten my dogsled ride on the glaciers and had a chance to observe any wildlife on the ice. Okay?”

      “Of course,” Emil said. “Anytime.” Mariah had the impression that his daughter and son-in-law were less enthused by the idea, but neither objected. Of course, she’d have to see if they’d actually agree on a time and place for a follow-up interview.

      Thea Fiske came over with the bill, and Mariah pulled out her credit card.

      “See you soon,” Mariah said as Emil and the others left. She turned back toward those remaining at the table to find Patrick watching Emil and his family wend their way through the crowd. There was an expression on Patrick’s face that she couldn’t quite understand—as if he was angry at their departure.

      He must have sensed she was watching. He turned back toward her and smiled. “Dessert? Something else to drink? My treat.”

      She was getting tired. And a bit uncomfortable after Thea’s observation and her own much too substantial interest in Patrick. He was not her type—no matter how sexy he was. After past bad experience, she had no interest in men who weren’t focused on genuine careers.

      Stable.

      “No, thanks,” she said. “I’ll be leaving now, too. See you around, everyone. And, Patrick, I’ll definitely see you at the dogsled ranch tomorrow for my ride.”

      “I was just thinking of heading out, too,” he said. “I’ll walk with you.”

      Not a good idea, Mariah thought, but didn’t immediately come up with a tactful way to tell him to get lost.

      She didn’t need to be tactful with him, she realized. Even so, she didn’t want to tell him to stay away—not if she wanted him to remain available for her dogsled ride.

      “You up for another beer?” Shaun said to Wes. He nodded, and they stood. She wasn’t even going to get the comfort of having a crowd come along as she left.

      She rose. “Why don’t you join your friends?” she asked Patrick.

      “I’ve had enough.” He helped her maneuver through the crowd to the door, and walked outside with her.

      In a moment, he looked down at her in the light from the streetlamp. The shivers that swept up and down her spine like the fingers of the musician on the piano inside were not entirely from the chilliness of the night air.

      Something in Patrick’s light brown eyes looked … well, feral—but most definitely sensual.

      “Where are you staying?” he asked.

      “Oh, just down the street, but no need to—”

      “I’ll walk you there,” he said.

      Opening her mouth to protest, she was amazed to hear herself say, “I’d enjoy the company.”

       Chapter 3

      The sounds of bar conversation accented by piano music receded quickly into the background as Mariah walked beside Patrick along the sidewalk toward her B and B. In the chilly late fall air in this small Alaskan town, there were few night sounds—a car or two driving by, the buzz from other gathering places—and her concentration was engulfed by Patrick’s presence.

      Despite her heavy jacket and boots lined in faux fur, she felt the cold and wondered briefly what it would be like to walk closer to Patrick, sharing his warmth.

      And nearly laughed aloud at her foolishness.

      Especially since the silence between them seemed to expand exponentially. Why had she agreed to allow him to accompany her at all?

      “So you live in Juneau?” he asked, obviously attempting to relieve the strained discomfort.

      “That’s right.” For the same reason, she kept talking. She briefly explained her background: growing up in Chicago, a degree from Purdue in Natural Resources and Environmental Science. A love of wildlife enhanced by working summers at a state park.

      No need to go into more personal history, like coming from a wealthy family that lost it all by risky—and worse—investments in bad economic times. Or how that affected a recent relationship she had briefly and painfully thought to be true love.

      Nor would she mention her last job writing incisive articles on people, not animals—sometimes amounting to near sensationalism. That was in the past.

      “A job as a staff writer for Alaskan Nature Magazine is a dream come true,” she finished. “There’s no place else in the U.S. with so much unique wildlife in an unexplored and pristine habitat. And how about you? How did you decide to work on a dogsled ranch?”

      His turn to break the silence.

      “I needed a different direction for my life, and Alaska seemed like a good place to start.”

      She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

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