WILD MEN OF ALASKA

MOOSED-UP

CHAPTER ONE

She was out of her ever-loving mind.

Eva Stuart trekked over the forest carpet of lowbush cranberries, wild mushrooms, and who knew what else. Yes, it was beautiful, stunning really, but Chatanika, Alaska? They had said remote. They hadn’t said end of the world, or in this case, top of the world. She didn’t even know what time of day it was. Just that she was lost. What had she been thinking, taking a walk about town, when there really was no town? It was a freaking village. And she was the only medical personnel here. She thought she’d be working in a medical clinic with a staff of doctors and nurses.

Nope. Nurse Practitioner was all they could afford. She was it. If there was an emergency, and she couldn’t save a patient in time, they were out of luck. She’d wanted something completely removed from Cincinnati, but taking a position like this without really thinking it through because her rat-bastard ex-fiancé was banging her best friend was the definition of extreme. Or stupidity. Davis and Jeremy were probably enjoying a fine meal in her favorite Italian restaurant, drinking an expensive bottle of wine, while she was lost in the woods slapping bird-size mosquitoes.

Yeah, she sure showed them.

What did it say about her that she was still more upset with her best friend Jeremy betraying her with Davis, rather than the fact that Davis was obviously gay too? She missed Jeremy. She could always talk to him, go shopping. He got her. He was the best girlfriend she’d ever had. And now he was shacked up with her former boyfriend planning to adopt a baby and start the family she’d always wanted.

Rustling in the brush behind her caused her to freeze.

What was that?

She swiveled at the sound of branches breaking behind her and came face to face with a bull moose.

Shiiit.

“Nice Moosey.”

His nostrils flared, and his ears twitched. What had the travel brochure said? Moose weren’t cute Disney characters. They weren’t dumb, and they weren’t nice, and they probably didn’t like being called “Moosey” either.

The moose lowered his massive head and glared at her from under the shadow of his impressive antlers. Eva inched back, her heart in her throat.

He charged.

She screamed, and ran for her life, twisting through paper birch and sick-looking spruce trees.





Lynx Maiski whipped off his shirt and wiped his face and the back of his neck with it. He picked up the ax and continued to chop firewood. It was a gorgeous, hot summer day. Well, night actually, as it was headed toward ten o’clock, but you wouldn’t know it by the sun. He loved it up here in the north.

Plenty to do, plenty of food, and plenty of peace.

“Heeeelp!”

He turned toward the scream and caught a glimpse of Eva, the little sprite of a nurse new to town. He wondered how long she’d last. Hopefully a while, since she was the hottest piece of ass he’d seen in a long time.

What was she doing running hell bent for high water like that? Then he heard the thrashing in the brush right before a bull moose appeared.

Oh, boy.

Lynx sunk the ax in the log and took off after the pair. He hollered and waved his arms, making himself appear bigger than he was, in the hopes of scaring off the wild animal. The moose slowed his gait as the trees thickened.

Smart girl, heading into smaller places where your predator couldn’t follow. Much like a bird, Eva flew up a black spruce tree.

Ah, now that’s not going to work.

The moose, not afraid of Lynx, stopped at the base of the tree. Eva yelped and climbed higher, spindly branches breaking beneath her.

“Don’t move,” Lynx warned. She was going to break her cute little neck.

“Shoot it!” she yelled.

“It’s not moose season.”

“I don’t give a shit. Shoot it!”

The moose turned his head and seemed to share a look with Lynx over the new cheechako in town.

“Come on, BW, git!” He slapped his hands together, spooking the moose into charging off into the forest. The dang thing was up to no good. Not the way to welcome a pretty girl to town.

“Do you know that moose?” she squeaked.

Crap, he had to watch that, especially with a cheechako. She wouldn’t understand.

“You called it BW,” she persisted like a badger.

“I think you’re hearing things.” The branch she held onto started to creak and give way. “Don’t move. You can’t climb trees like...that.”

She tumbled down through the boughs. He tried to catch her but wasn’t fast enough, and she dropped to the pine-needled forest floor.

He hurried and knelt by her side, his fingers spread wide over her, afraid to touch in case she was hurt bad. Her big blueberry eyes were wide open, and she didn’t seem to be breathing.

“You okay?” Please be okay. He’d planned to make a move once he got up the courage.

She sucked in a deep breath and glared at him. “You suck at this hero shit.”

“I wasn’t ready. Besides, anyone should know with one gander at these trees that they aren’t up to holding your weight.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Whoa.” He had three sisters and knew enough to tread carefully here. “If anything, you need to pack on a few pounds. Winter’s coming, and you need a layer of fat to survive it.” Or someone hot like me in your bed keeping you warm, he thought. Damn if she didn’t look adorable with her feathers all out of whack. He wanted to smooth her down. Maybe he should help her up off the ground first? “Here, let me give you a hand.” He reached for her, and she slapped his hands away.

“I don’t need any help.” She struggled to her feet, took one step and faltered. Luckily he was right there to wrap an arm around her. She sure was a little-bitty thing. Fairy-like really.

“Take it easy. That was a big fright you just suffered. Moose can be meaner than a stirred up porcupine.”

She once again slapped his hands back. “I can handle a fright. I think I cut my leg when you didn’t catch me.”

He let the ‘didn’t catch me’ accusation slide. “Let me see.” He turned her around like she was no more than a doll. Blood saturated her pant leg in the back of her upper thigh.

“Well, guess I get to play hero after all.” Lynx swung her up into his arms, against his bare chest, before she could utter an objection. The woman weighed no more than one of his nephew’s sled dogs. He probably shouldn’t mention that. Her being city folk and all, chances were she wouldn’t take nicely to being compared to a dog.

“Where are you taking me?”

“My house. It’s not far.”

She tightened her lips. Very nice lips. He’d noticed them before, but he hadn’t been this close. Now he wanted to get closer. A whole lot closer.

“Quit looking at me that way and watch where you’re walking. I don’t need to fall again. My backside is already going to be black and blue.”

He could rub something on her skin to help with the bruising.

“Don’t even say it.”

He had a feeling if he said anything right now it would be wrong. His mother would classify Eva as one of those high-maintenance types. But that was okay. He was as patient as the days were currently long.

Lynx walked out of the trees and into his backyard, up the stairs to his deck and into the log cabin he’d built himself.

“You live here?” Eva asked when he positioned her next to the kitchen bar so she’d have something to help hold her up. “I was this close to civilization? I thought I was lost.”

“Technically, if you don’t know your surroundings it doesn’t matter how close to town you are, the minute you step into the trees you’re lost.” He regarded her pixie-blond haircut, bird-like bones, and shortness of stature. “You shouldn’t go anywhere into the forest without someone with you.” An eagle could pick her off and feed her to its young.

Something must have shown in his expression. “I’m not a child.”

He buttoned up his lips and didn’t point out her attempt to outrun a fifteen-hundred pound moose and her non-existent tree climbing skills. Instead, he looked at the tear in her jeans. “That’s a pretty bad cut.”

She twisted to get a better look, but the area was high on her left leg right under that sweet little ass of hers. “Damn it, I can’t see.”

“Quit twisting like that. People aren’t meant to bend that way.” If she was that flexible—

He’d been too long without a woman.

“I need to get these jeans off in order to assess the situation,” she said.

If she took those jeans off, they’d have a situation all right.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she asked, glaring up at him. “Or help me?”

“Uh...we should get you to the clinic.”

“I am the clinic.”

Well, she had him there.

“You’ll have to help fix me up.” She glanced around his kitchen. “I need a first aid kit, scissors, rubbing alcohol, clean towels, and a mirror.” She reached for the button on her jeans and freed it.

His mouth dropped open as she began a slow striptease out of her jeans, being careful as she peeled the material from the wound.

“Get a move on,” she scolded. “I don’t want to bleed all over your kitchen.”

Her tone, more than her words, snapped him out of his salacious, sexual fantasy.

“Right.” He turned and exited the room, mentally slapping himself. Get a grip. She’s hurt, not looking for a hook-up.

He returned to find her without her pants in the cutest, littlest pink panties he could remember seeing. He swallowed hard as the blood in his brain flowed south.

“There you are.” She gestured toward the heavy toolbox he’d set on the counter. “This is a first aid kit?”

He unclipped the latches and opened it up. “Yep, everything you could possibly need is in here.” He didn’t know how he spoke seeing all that creamy skin on display in his kitchen. All he needed to do was lift her up on that counter, and she’d be the perfect height for him to—

“What do you use this for?” She held up a tranquillizer dart.

“In case I need to put you down.” She didn’t laugh at his joke. The wrinkling of her forehead increased. “I’m the law enforcement officer for the Refuge,” he explained further before she thought he was a loon.

“Huh.” She looked him up and down with what he hoped was renewed interest, her eyes taking their time traveling over his exposed chest. Guess, he should put a shirt on, but he might as well enjoy her examination. Packing on these muscles hadn’t come easy, and they didn’t come from a gym.

“Where’s the mirror?” she asked, tearing her gaze away and studying the items he unpacked from the first aid kit.

“Don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one? Everyone has a mirror.”

He shrugged. He was a guy. What did she want from him? “There’s just the one over the sink in the bathroom.”

She twisted, and her soft cotton blouse rose up to reveal a flat stomach. “How am I going to sew myself up?” she muttered to herself.

He walked around to look at her backside. “Yep, that’s going to need stitches.”

“I know that. Geez. I could tell by the amount of blood loss.”

“Are you feeling faint?”

“I’m a nurse practitioner. I don’t faint at the sight of blood.”

“I meant from the loss of blood.”

She gritted her teeth together. “Listen. I need a mirror so I can sew this closed.”

“I can sew you closed.”

“Seriously?” Her tone said differently.

“Done it many times. What? You think since I live in a small village in Alaska that I don’t know how to do stuff?” He met her eyes. She did. His ego hit the floor. “Hell, woman. I live in Alaska. Have all my life. I can stitch on a button, sew up a cut, set a broken bone and cook my own dinner. Self-sufficient. Heard of it before?” Besides, not only was he a Fish and Wildlife Officer, he was a certified veterinarian. The injured had been coming to him before she’d arrived, four-legged and two-legged alike.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Right.” He huffed. “We haven’t had anyone manning that little clinic for years. How do you think we survived?” He answered for her. “We did for ourselves and each other. You want to fit in, you’d better adjust your attitude.”

“I said I was sorry,” she muttered.

Yeah, she was sexy as hell, but her attitude was down-right ugly.

“Bend over,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Her big blueberry eyes got even bigger.

“So I can clean and sew this up. You’re bleeding all over my kitchen, and I just mopped my floor. Yeah, I know how to use a mop too.”

She slowly leaned over the counter, bracing herself on her elbows, showing her ass off to its advantage. Since she’d gotten him so hot under the collar, he was able to see the wound objectively. Somewhat. She smelled good too. Like some hot house flower. Tropical with hints of heat. Heat that had his blood quickening a trail back down south. He did a better job of controlling his physical responses to her when she was running her mouth.

“So what brought you here?” he asked.

He thought he heard her mutter “stupidity” before she asked, “Could you keep me abreast of what you are doing as you do it? I don’t like surprises.”

Good thing she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head, or she’d be surprised by the hard-on he sported. He’d never sewn someone up with a woody before. This might be interesting.

He surveyed the injury. Luckily, her jeans had kept most of the bark and debris from the wound. It was more of a deep puncture than a long cut. Might take just a few stitches. It looked worse than it was.

“Hey,” she said, startling him. “What’s your name?”

“Lynx Maiski. Hand me the alcohol.”

She passed him the bottle, her butt cheeks clenching as she readied herself for the sting. He wiped the area and quickly blew on it to help lessen the bite. Goose bumps erupted on her skin, and her voice had a breathy quality to it when she spoke again. “As in Raven and Fox Maiski?”

“My sister and nephew.”

“Then you’re also related to Chickadee, Tern, Pike, Fiona, and Coho?”

“Yep, sisters, uncle, mother and grandmother.”

“Pretty much most of the town.”

“A good portion of it.”

“So why haven’t I met you before?”

“Didn’t need any medical attention, I guess. But I’ve seen you around.” He sterilized the needle and thread, and knelt behind her for better access. “Ready? This is going to pinch.”

Those adorable butt cheeks of hers clenched again, and he had a moment of light-headedness.

She didn’t make a sound as he stitched the neatest, smallest, damn stitches he could. It hurt him to know that she’d have a scar on her perfect milky skin, and he wanted to minimize the blemish as best as he could. Four little sutures later, his brow sweating, Lynx clipped the thread and stood.

“There. Take a few Tylenol as needed for pain and see me in six to seven days for removal.”

She turned to face him. “Very funny. How would you like your bill paid?”

The answer was on the tip of his tongue as he was lost in those eyes of hers, but luckily he bit it back in time.

“Sorry for being such a bitch earlier.” Was her voice huskier? “As you’ve probably guessed, I haven’t quite assimilated to the area.”

He could help her assimilate.

She stood half naked with the counter behind her and him in front. If he placed his hands on the counter, she’d be caged within his arms.