she didn’t stop rubbing his hand between hers he might be tempted to do something stupid like bring her fingertips to his mouth. “Oh!” She snatched her hands away. “Sorry.”
“I’m not.” He gave her a pointed look, staring right into her dark blue eyes. Not a gold fleck to be found, but pure cobalt, like the Arctic Sea in the summer. Her lashes were thick, but not overly long. And she had a few freckles across the bridge of her nose.
She licked her lips and a sharp ache hit him hard and low. He pictured himself scooping her up and carrying her to his room.
Then she blinked and retrieved her beer, sipping it as she looked straight ahead at nothing. Amazing. She’d been staring back. There’d been something between them for a second, but his suspicious mind severed the thought. What was she doing here? Just slumming? And what was her business in Anchorage?
“So, what do you do, Max?”
He grabbed his tumbler, knocked back the last drops of his whiskey and signaled for another. “I fly cargo.”
“Oh? Where to?”
“Barrow.” He turned to face her. “I’m only here for tonight.”
Her beer halted halfway to her mouth for a brief instant and then continued. “Me, too. I was here for the Iditarod.”
Oh yeah, it was that time of year. But she sure as hell hadn’t been a contestant. “Got a man who entered?”
“No.” She started picking at the label on the beer bottle with a ringless left hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re a musher.”
She grinned and shook her head. “No.” She glanced at him and then back down to peeling her bottle label.
“So, what do you do in L.A.?”
Deep concentration on the label peeling. “I don’t really live there, actually. I mean, I own a condo there, but I travel all over the world for business and I’m hardly ever home.”
Interesting. She hadn’t actually answered the question. Something didn’t add up, but he let it go. Who cared what she did for a living? Or why she was slumming tonight. It wasn’t any of his business. Live and let live. For whatever reason, he had a beautiful woman sitting next to him sharing a drink.
He cleared his throat. “Have you eaten dinner?”
She looked surprised at the change of subject. “No, I—no.”
“Well, don’t eat here, whatever you do.”
A feminine chuckle accompanied the flash of perfect white teeth as she turned to him. “Shall we go eat somewhere else?”
We? He scrutinized the sincerity in her eyes. Maybe she’d made a bet with a girlfriend to sleep with a native on her last night in Alaska. Would a half-breed count? Glancing around the bar, he spied his only competition: the old native in the last booth. He swung back to face her. “Sure, why not?”
“Anywhere specific you recommend?” She took her ski jacket and pushed her arms through the sleeves.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, Your hotel, but he refrained. “Nowhere you’d care to go,” he answered, taking a last swig of his drink.
Her eyebrows drew together and her eyes sparked. “The restaurant in my hotel is good.”
He choked as he swallowed. She must have to do the deed in front of witnesses to win the bet.
“Fine.” What did he care what her motives were? He grabbed his parka and slipped it on. “We can catch a cab a few blocks from here. But let me leave Mickey in my room.”
In the middle of zipping up her parka, she froze. “Uh…”
She didn’t trust him. If she only knew… “You can wait here.” He pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them on the bar.
She waved a dismissive hand. “No, that’s okay.”
Interesting. There was definitely something unusual about this woman. He shrugged and held the door open for her.
It was less than twenty steps to his room. Her heels clicked fast, keeping up with him as he led Mickey around the corner. He unlocked his door and let Mick inside with instructions to be good. When he turned back to her, she was shivering. “Here, I have some gloves.” He stepped inside and dug into his duffel, grabbing the thick leather pair he rarely wore.
“Oh, uh.” She hesitated inside the doorway, and then stepped inside, closing the door. “Thank you.” She took them from him and then drew a deep breath. “I should tell you, I’m—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She’d be gone tomorrow and so would he. He was close enough to smell her light flowery scent. He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled.
“It doesn’t?” She was gazing up at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted. Then her attention dropped to his mouth.
His blood heated and he could feel it pulsing in other parts of his body. The bed was only a few feet away. It’d been so damn long since he’d been with someone. “I’m the last person to pass judgment.”
She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look like Mickey did sometimes. He leaned in and ran his knuckles down her cheek, then touched his lips to hers.
At first she stilled as if she hadn’t expected it, then with a sigh she opened to him and cupped his cheek with her palm.
It was as if the Northern Lights exploded in his head as her soft mouth moved over his. When her tongue dipped in he groaned and angled his head to deepen the kiss.
With a small cry, she pushed away. He gritted his teeth. He’d known this was too good to be true. “You’re free to go,” he told her.
“No!” Her eyes wide, she seemed alarmed at the thought.
“Look, Serena, or whatever your real name is. It’s okay. I know what this is about.”
Her gaze darted to him, a panicked look in her eyes. “You do?”
He nodded. He didn’t belong with a woman like her, but he didn’t really belong anywhere, with anyone. “You made a bet with someone. Or thought you had something to prove. But now you can’t go through with it. It’s okay.”
She let out a quick laugh and then covered her mouth. “No, I—” She worried her bottom lip. “I want to do a story on you. I want to know about you rescuing that man when your plane crashed. And what happened to the other passengers.”
He blinked at her, not comprehending at first. She was a reporter? Anger boiled up from his core and spewed into a rage that shook his whole body. He took her arm and yanked open his door. “I don’t give interviews. Not even for sex.”
“Wait!” Bracing her palm against the door frame, she held her ground when he would have shoved her out. “Don’t you want a chance to tell—”
“I
