WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter FIVE

“I thought you said ‘land’?” Eva asked, staring at the canoe beached on the bank of the Chatanika River.

“Best way to get a feel for the place is by boat.”

“This isn’t a boat.” A boat had a motor not a paddle, and seats not planks.

He laughed. The sound and the way he tipped his head back charmed her in a way that she couldn’t explain or begin to understand. He was so different from any other man she’d been attracted to. But then the others had never measured up when it counted. He was big enough and tall enough that he could probably measure up to anything.

She glanced back at the paint-scraped, dented, weary-worn canoe. Yeah, she’d give this a chance. Just like she realized, she’d give him a chance.

“Okay, what do I do?” she asked.

“First—” he held up a yellow lifejacket “—you have to put this on.” He held the vest out for her like a gentleman holding a coat for her to slip into. Once she had the lifejacket on, she faced him, looking down at the zipper and clips, not knowing what to snap, zip, or buckle first. Turn out that wasn’t something she needed to worry about as he went about securing the lifejacket tightly to her torso. His hands were all business until he finished with the belt around her waist, then they fell to her hips and just stayed there warming her from the inside out. His eyes met hers, and heat simmered between them. Just like that her internal temperature rose, and she wanted the jacket off. Wanted to strip all her clothes off and his too.

His nostrils flared, and he leaned closer, stopping just before his lips would have taken possession of hers. “If I kiss you, we won’t be canoeing.”

A large part of her was perfectly fine with that. Another, the more sensible part—damn it—insisted she step back. “So...” She bent down and picked up a paddle. “Show me how to work a canoe.”

He cocked his lips in a smile that had her wishing she’d taken him up on that kiss instead of the canoeing. But if she was going to live here in the wilds of Alaska she needed to know a few things. From what she could tell, people did a lot of outdoor activities.

Like canoeing.

“Second rule of thumb. Do not stand up in the canoe. When you feel comfortable enough with everything else, I’ll show you how that can be safely accomplished. Just know that if you stand up, you will most likely dump us both in the water. Third, we don’t want to be dumped into the water. Average temperature of the river is roughly ten degrees above freezing this time of year. By the end of summer it might be fifteen degrees above freezing.”

“I have no plans to get wet.”

“I’ve heard it before. Let’s just plan it now and hope for the best.”

“I’m not an idiot. I know what hypothermia is, and I have no plans to experience it first hand.”

“Good. Fourth—”

“How many rules are you going to name? This is going to take all day.”

“You want to learn as we go?”

“At least we’ll be going somewhere,” she muttered.

He pursed his lips.

Guess she’d pissed him off. She was good at doing that. Impatience was one of her strong suits.

“Here.” He handed her a can of bug spray.

“There’s DEET in this thing. Have you heard the statistics of what it can do to you?”

“Less harm than the mosquitoes you will encounter today.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“One of the ways they used to punish a criminal back in the gold rush days was to tie the perp naked in a canoe and launch him on the Yukon. The man would jump into the freezing, silt-filled water with his hands tied behind his back, knowing full well he’d drown, to escape the mosquitoes.”

She arched a brow in disbelief. “That’s some tall tale.”

He stared at her for a long silent minute, and then stepped back and sprayed himself down, adding a healthy coating to his hands and wiping the stuff onto his face and neck, making sure he covered his ears too. She started to rethink her need for bug spray. He did live here. He wouldn’t be messing with her, would he?

“Fine, give me that.” She exchanged the paddle for the can and gave herself a light dusting.

He smirked and packed the can in the backpack he carried. “Let me know when you need some more.”

“What? Are there vamp mosquitoes out there?” Geez. She wasn’t that naive.

He ignored her and positioned the canoe to launch. “Go ahead and get in. Face the front, and I’ll give us a push.”

She climbed in, her arms flaying wide when the canoe rocked under her feet and quickly took a seat. She gulped. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Here’s your paddle.” Lynx handed it back to her. She took it not knowing what he expected her to do with it. Maybe she should have let him finish his never-ending list of rules.

But how hard could it be? People canoed all the time.

Lynx stepped in behind her. She dropped the paddle as the canoe rocked back and forth with his movements. Luckily it landed between her legs and not into the river.

There was a sound of them sliding on sand. She glanced back to see him using the paddle to push them out into the rushing current. The canoe easily flowed with the water and picked up speed. Her hands tightened on the edges.

“Grab your paddle,” Lynx said from behind. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who expects the man to do all the work.”

She arrowed him a look, and he laughed when she picked up her paddle and dipped it into the water.

“The water’s fairly calm here, so get the feel of how stroking the paddle directs the canoe. Stay on the right,” he instructed when she picked up the paddle to stroke left. “Think of this like sex.” His voice purred, raising goose flesh on her arms. “Sex is best when we find a rhythm and stroke deep.”

She swallowed hard, visually seeing him above her, her hips finding his rhythm as he stroked deep within her. He had to purposely be doing that. He didn’t teach everyone to canoe using words like that. Just how many other women had he canoed with? He’d said that awfully smooth.

“We need to work together or we’ll just spin in circles. I’ll stroke from the back left, you front right. Find the rhythm.”

She began to feel the difference when she wasn’t fighting him and matched him stroke for stroke.

“There you go.”

She felt a thrill at his words, and the hair rose on the back of her neck. He had such a seductive voice, and with him behind her giving her instruction, it left her feeling vulnerable, needy. Normally not something she liked. She liked being in charge. Hell, taking charge. But it was actually nice knowing he was back there, directing them. Steering them on the correct course.

She began taking in her surroundings. The water lapped by the base of the canoe, the cutting of the paddles causing eddies to swirl in the clear water. She thought she saw a fish swim by and wondered what kind it was. Birch leaves tinkled like jewelry as they brushed each other in the slight breeze. A huge bird soared not making a sound as it glided above them.

“Is that—?”

“A bald eagle. You’ll see lots of wildlife on this trip. The Chatanika River is prime habitat for birds and animals.”

He set an easy pace, one that gave her the chance to see what was flowing by them. The air was crisp. The sun warm on her skin, and there didn’t seem to be another soul around but them. The beauty of the place stole her breath.

“Stunning,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed as though he was in church. But then this was spiritual in a way. God’s church. “Look left.”

She followed where he pointed and saw a beaver rush up the bank, slapping its flat tail as though to scare them off. She laughed, realizing as the sound escaped her that it had been a long time since she’d felt this free.

The water slowed more.

“Rest your arms,” Lynx recommended.

She turned to see him with the paddle straddled across the canoe.

“When we flow around that bend ahead the water is going to speed up. Not a lot of rapids in this river but there are a few. Just don’t panic, and we’ll be fine. One other thing. The Chatanika is famous for its sweepers.”

“Sweepers?”

“Low hanging trees where they have been uprooted because of the flow of the ever-changing river. Break up around here can be quite turbulent. So watch your head. See.” He indicated such a tree hanging across the river. They ducked and smoothly floated under it.

The next one came up faster. She tried to steer them around it.

“No. Let me steer. You keep paddling left. Eva, left.”

The water had picked up fast. One minute calm, almost lake-like, and the next rushing like a faucet. A tree was suddenly there. She paddled hard right getting confused and overwhelmed all at once. They hit the roots of the tree. It banged the canoe hard enough to cause it to bounce upriver a few feet, swinging them into the rapids Lynx had been trying to avoid. The canoe rocked and bounced as they sped up, and she panicked.

“Stay put. Eva, don’t move like that. Duck!”

A sweeper swept her right out of the canoe.