Alaskan Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

discomfort.
    â€œThat’s right.” For the same reason, she kept talking. She briefly explained her background: growing up in Chicago, a degree from Purdue in Natural Resources and Environmental Science. A love of wildlife enhanced by working summers at a state park.
    No need to go into more personal history, like coming from a wealthy family that lost it all by risky—and worse—investments in bad economic times. Or how that affected a recent relationship she had briefly and painfully thought to be true love.
    Nor would she mention her last job writing incisive articles on people, not animals—sometimes amounting to near sensationalism. That was in the past.
    â€œA job as a staff writer for Alaskan Nature Magazine is a dream come true,” she finished. “There’s no place else in the U.S. with so much unique wildlife in an unexplored and pristine habitat. And how about you? How did you decide to work on a dogsled ranch?”
    His turn to break the silence.
    â€œI needed a different direction for my life, and Alaska seemed like a good place to start.”
    She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. All she heard was the sound of their footsteps crunching on the salt strewn on the sidewalks to melt ice. Their way along the town’s main street, Tagoga Avenue, was illuminated by the occasional streetlight as they walked by closed businesses that sold everything from the heavy clothing needed for the upcoming winter, to hunting gear—which made Mariah shiver. She was not a vegetarian, but her love of wildlife caused her to cringe at the thought of killing the beautiful and majestic creatures in Alaska’s wilderness. As a resident of this glorious state, though, she had come to terms with it, as long as hunting was done for food and not simply for trophies or fur. And the culling of predatory animals like wolves to protect game, like caribou—not something she could buy into.
    The silence grew uncomfortable again. Mariah wondered why Patrick wasn’t saying more about his background, especially after all she had spewed out to him about herself.
    Was he hiding something?
    She was a magazine writer, not an investigative journalist—or even a paparazzo—now, but she still enjoyed tossing controversy into her stories where appropriate. She reveled in her curiosity and cultivated the knack of prying out of people detailsof their interest in, and treatment of, wildlife—good and bad.
    She wasn’t about to allow Patrick to get away with his reticence.
    â€œSo what did you do before that required a change?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
    â€œThis and that.” Hearing amusement in his voice, she looked up to find him smiling at her. And what a smile. Despite the wary ruefulness she read in it and his body language—hands stuffed stiffly into the pockets at the side of his rustic jacket—the guy was gorgeous. Sexy.
    Intriguing.
    She wanted to know more. A lot more.
    But they had just turned the corner onto Kaley Street. Her B and B was on this block, and Patrick apparently knew that. He picked up his pace. “What this and what that? ” She tried to make her demand sound like idle chitchat, but she wanted answers.
    â€œIsn’t this where you’re staying?” Patrick had stopped in front of a three-story redbrick building that was, in fact, Mariah’s B and B—Inez’s Inn. A bright yellow light illuminated the large, closed white door with a stylized, smiling moose face hung at the top.
    â€œWell, yes,” she said. “But I’d really like to know—”
    Before she could insist any further, he leaned down. Grasped her arms.
    And lowered his face toward hers.
    Quite unexpectedly, the thought that crossed her mind earlier, sharing his warmth, turned into reality as he melded his body against hers. He covered her lips with his, expertly insisting on her kissing him back. His kiss was