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, resting his arms.
“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.
Chapter Six
Lynx grabbed the branches overhead and tied a rope to secure the canoe so it didn’t float downriver.
Eva gasped and splashed as she fought to swim against the current. “Help! I’m