Chinook, Wine and Sink Her. Morgan Q O'Reilly
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Название: Chinook, Wine and Sink Her
Автор: Morgan Q O'Reilly
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
isbn: 9780984113224
isbn:
The money.
It always came back to the money. The money and the two weeks of seclusion to balance out the two weeks of remote camp life with its twelve-hour workdays. It sure as hell beat the normal day-in-and-day-out, Monday-through-Friday, eight-to-five work schedule. Two weeks off, every month, to do as he pleased.
In the summer, that meant fishing on a lonely stretch of river. In the winter it meant holing up in Fairbanks. It was a good life and he enjoyed the solitude. Books, DVDs, and woodcarving filled those hours of peace and quiet. At least once a year he’d fly out to someplace warm. Scuba diving in Hawaii was mighty fine in January. Cancun added variety. This winter he wanted to dive Belize. It would be his turn for four weeks off. Could probably do both Cancun and Belize.
He should move on and leave Linnet in peace to do her job. A little short on sweet manners, still, at first glance, she’d seemed capable enough. Until her foot had slipped. He grinned, thinking of how he’d pulled her from near disaster. That should earn him some hero points.
Not a delicate little flower, she had some meat on her bones. Not fat, not even stocky, just solid, like she spent a lot of time outdoors or in the gym. What did she look like without the loose fitting shirt? Would the rest of her match her curvy ass? Strong enough to pull in a seventy-six-pound king salmon. Damn, what a fish that had been.
Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t move on. A woman out here alone was trouble and who the hell had let her come out here? Sure, she had a well-trained dog with her, but Manley wouldn’t stop a determined bear or man. Creed frowned at the river, not really seeing it.
Like him, George had been raised out here. He knew the dangers, knew how to take care of himself. But this chica looked as if she’d been city raised, and not even Anchorage. Probably from California, if he had to guess. Her truck had screamed city slicker, especially with the decal in the back window.
“Silly boys, trucks are for girls.” Just saying it out loud made him laugh.
Without the decal, he wouldn’t have guessed it was a woman’s truck. The decal had sent him wandering down the trail instead of fishing right in front of the cabin. Brand new, the bright blue paint had shone through the heavy layer of tan-colored dust that came from driving the remote highway. Fully outfitted with a shell on the back, Linnet could probably live in that thing if she needed to.
A tug on the line told him he had a live one. Was it the big king? Or was it a Dolly Varden? It was a fighter for sure. With the tune he’d been singing now playing in his head, he turned his attention to pulling dinner from the river.
Could he talk Linnet into eating with him? More importantly, as prickly as she’d been, how long would it take him to seduce her into being his dessert?
Chapter 2
On her way back to the cabin, after washing her dishes in the tiny clear-water creek that ran into the river, Linnet heard his singing before she saw him.
“Where the Northern Lights, they shine, she rubs her nose to mine, she cuddles close and I can hear her say... Ooga-ooga mooska, which means that I love you. If you'll be my baby, I'll ooga-ooga mooska you. Then I take her hand in mine and set her on my knee, the squaws along the Yukon are good enough for me…”
He finished up the chorus as he strolled into the clearing. “Hey there,” he said in greeting.
Linnet stopped by the picnic table under the deep gable overhang of the sod roof. “Hi,” she grunted. Then rolled her eyes as he hummed the tune. “Please. Don’t you know any other song? That is if you absolutely must sing.”
She felt the need to harden her defenses. This one was a charmer. The worst kind of man. The kind who could slip into a girl’s bed before she could pull back the covers and invite him. Exactly the kind she didn’t want to be near.
“What? Don’t you like my voice? I was almost the lead singer in a rock band in college. I returned to Alaska instead.” The wide easy grin only convinced Linnet she had him sorted out properly.
“You have a fine voice. It’s the song I object to.” A mosquito buzzed her ear and she waved her hand to whoosh it away.
“Ah, now see, you just don’t have an appreciation for fine music.” He dropped his tackle box on the bench and flopped a large plastic food bag down on the table. It was stuffed with deep pink salmon fillets. “That song is a Hank Thompson classic. Was real popular forty—fifty years ago.”
Ah, Neanderthal days. Better to let that subject drop. “Didn’t catch the big guy?” A nod at his catch neatly changed the subject.
“Nah. Too early in the trip. I want to catch one like him just as I’m heading back into town. This is just right for dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow. Hope you’ll join me.”
“Thanks, but I just finished washing up my dishes. Manley had his yummy kibble and I had a nice bowl of pasta.” She clanked her metal plate down into the pot she’d just washed.
“Don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.” He gasped, and she had a hard time not laughing at the horror on his face.
“Those radical liberals,” she scoffed. “I’m a vegan.”
“A what?”
This time she did laugh at the blank look on his face. “Just kidding. Actually, I’m worse than vegan. I hate salmon.” And the bugs loved her. Fanning them away with her hand didn’t work for long.
“No! How can you live in Alaska and hate salmon?” Hand over his heart, he staggered back a step.
She shrugged. “Easy. I don’t keep what I catch, so I don’t have to clean it or eat it. Just measure it. Now if you want to talk halibut or shellfish…”
“You must be from California.”
The teasing look on his face shored up her resolve to hold him at arm’s length. “And that has to do with what?” Too many digs about Californians over the past year had her hackles rising. Why did everyone on the West Coast pick on Californians as a whole?
“Hey, no offense meant.” In a silent gesture pleading for peace, he held up his hands and gave her a smile most women probably found irresistible. “I’ve just noticed people from California, the Bay Area in particular, love their shellfish. East Coasters too, but the accent is West Coast.”
“Right. Well, I have some things to do, so I’ll leave you to your dinner.” She turned toward the cabin door only to stop cold at his touch.
The warmth from his big hand gently holding her upper arm burned through her shirt as if it didn’t exist. The first instinctive fight-or-flight adrenalin rush hit her then faded into something else.
This man didn’t want to hurt her, she knew it on a deep, inexplicable level, but she’d been fooled before. Because of that one exception, where a nice guy had turned out to be a beast, her body stiffened, preparing…waiting… Panic held at bay for the moment, she stared down at his hand, СКАЧАТЬ