Alaskan Fantasy. Elle James

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Alaskan Fantasy - Elle James Mills & Boon Intrigue

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to mention, the race on Saturday.”

      “Are there any competitors afraid you might win over them?” Tazer asked.

      “I can’t imagine someone thinking I was any kind of competition.”

      “You never know how the competitive mind works.”

      “Whatever. Paul shouldn’t have been the one in the hospital. If I hadn’t loaned my sled to him, he’d be fine.”

      She tapped a finger to her chin, her gaze running his length from head to toe. “And you would have been in the hospital or dead.”

      Sam inhaled a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah. Which leads back to the question of who.”

      “THE DOCTOR ONLY wanted to see me.” Paul glared at Kat.

      “As your only family, I need to hear what he has to say.” Kat reached for his hand, refusing to take no for an answer.

      The doctor’s expression was too serious to be good news. He slipped an X-ray film into the lighted board on the wall and pointed at a bone close to the ankle. “You have a fracture in the medial malleolus.” He turned to look at Paul, his face set in stern, no-nonsense lines. “You have a broken ankle.”

      “So?” Paul’s face set in a stubborn frown. “Big deal. It’s just the ankle.”

      “So—” the doctor glanced toward Kat briefly before leveling a hard stare at Paul “—you can’t run the Iditarod on that fracture.”

      Paul’s hand squeezed Kat’s hard. “Are you sure? You’re not mistaken? Look at it again.” He pointed at the film.

      “I’m certain. I recommend a cast and elevating your ankle for the next week to keep the swelling down. Six weeks in the cast ought to allow sufficient healing time.”

      “Six weeks?” Paul shouted. “I don’t have two days to heal.”

      Kat patted his hand. “I think you missed the part where the doctor said you’re not racing on Saturday.”

      “Since there is minimal swelling, I’ll send the order up for the casting materials and have you fixed up in time to go home this afternoon.” The doctor made notes on the chart and then looked up. “I’m sorry, Paul. But you need to take care of that bone and let it heal.” On those parting words, the doctor left the room.

      A long silence followed. Kat didn’t know what to say to make it better. Paul trained hard all year long just to be in the Iditarod. To be so close to the race and not go was a fate almost worse than death to her brother. Kat knew. She’d been in several of the races and gone through the rigorous training with the dogs. She could feel Paul’s disappointment like a palpable ache in her chest. “Look, Paul. There’s always next year.”

      Paul’s frown was fierce. “The dogs deserve to be in the race this year.” He looked up into her face. “You know how much they love it.”

      “I know, and I know how much you love it. But you can’t.”

      “Damn.” For a long moment he stared at the wall. Then he grasped her hand, his face brightening. “I can’t do it, but you can.”

      “No. Don’t even think about it.” She tried to pull her hand free. “What did that doctor give you for pain, anyway?”

      “Only a little painkiller. I’m thinking straight, sis. You have to do it.”

      “No. I’m here to rest and relax. Not to spend two weeks in the freezing cold.” Despite her protests, Kat felt a thrill of excitement flow through her veins. She hadn’t felt that kind of kick since before Marty died. And it felt good. But still…“No. I haven’t trained. The dogs won’t be used to me. It’s impossible.”

      “If you don’t do it for me, do it for Sam. If someone is after him, he’ll need protection. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

      Her heart stopped when she thought of Sam, the man she’d heard so much about from her brother in every e-mail, letter and phone call. The man who’d found his way into the family while she was out gallivanting around the world playing secret agent. Still, Sam cared about Paul, and Kat couldn’t fault him for that.

      But he made her nervous. With his sandy-blond hair, gray-green eyes and a voice so smooth and penetrating it affected the functionality of her kneecaps. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be anywhere near him. Marty had been dark and dangerous. Sam was everything Marty wasn’t. He looked like the boy next door on steroids. His rugged outdoor tan and muscles would be enough to make her heart leap if she weren’t still grieving for Marty. Okay, so the pain of Marty’s death had faded quite a bit, but that didn’t mean she was ready to jump back into the meat market of dating.

      No. Being around Sam would not be good for her at this time. She’d been too vulnerable for too long. A place she hated being. Vulnerability wasn’t something Jenkinses did well.

      “You kinda like him, don’t you?” Paul asked softly, grinning.

      “No.” But her no wasn’t quite as definitive as before. She jerked her hand free of her brother’s. “I have to get back and help Vic with the dogs. Call me when they have you all patched up and ready to come home.”

      “What?” He raised his hands. “You’re not going to stay and hold my hand through the trauma of getting a cast? What kind of sister are you?”

      She picked the paper cup off the floor where it had landed earlier and threw it at Paul’s head. “Your worst nightmare.”

      “I knew that.” His easy grin spread across his face. “But you’re going to do the race.”

      The man was obviously high on some kind of painkiller to think she’d jump into a race she hadn’t trained for. She left the room in such a hurry, she bumped into Sam on his way in.

      Her face flamed and she cursed herself, knowing how red she could get. She ducked her head and turned her back on Sam. “Tazer, you ready to go back to the house?”

      “Whenever you are,” she said, her posture as relaxed as it was poised to handle anything.

      “Oh, I’m ready, all right.” Ready to get away from her brother and the man who’d gone into the room after she left. So what if he might be in trouble and needed her kind of protection. “What part of off duty doesn’t he understand?” she muttered.

      “Are you expecting an answer?” Tazer glanced down at her perfect nails. “Because if you are, the answer is an S.O.S. agent is never off duty.”

      Trust Tazer to put it all in perspective. Kat rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” She layered a boatload of sarcasm into the one word.

      “You’re welcome.” Tazer stared across the shiny tiled floor at Kat. “I haven’t seen you this animated in a long time.”

      “Comes from being surrounded by crazy Alaskans and an insane brother.”

      “He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

      Tazer’s sly smile sent warning signals

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