Staking a Claim

by Devon McKay

  The savory acknowledgement flushed through Sam’s body, and she tried to distract herself by neatly tucking her purse on her lap and toying with the leather tassel hooked on the zipper. Rashly, she directed her attention on the menu Maggie placed on the table, ignoring the saucy wink which accompanied it. Were all Alaskans this annoying?

  Blake spent the next few minutes making idle chat with their hostess while Sam reviewed the menu and decided on what she wanted. After jotting down the orders, and pouring coffee into the mugs on the table, Maggie left the room to cook their breakfasts.

  Blake turned his attention back to her. The warmth of his gaze scorched over her skin, firing her insides to a low boil.

  “I’ve quite a dilemma,” he stated, drumming his fingers on the table.

  Sam’s focus, drawn to his hands, noted the lack of a wedding ring.

  “What?” she quipped, silently berating herself. Why on Earth would she check for a ring?

  Placing her hand on his, she stopped the insistent beat of his fingers causing her thoughts to spiral and scatter. As soon as she realized her action, Sam withdrew and began toying with her silverware.

  “Since you now believe me to be a gentleman,” he said, pausing as if in deep thought before he placed both hands on top of hers and ceased the fidgeting of her fingers. “I guess the gentlemanly thing to do is tell you…”

  He hesitated again, cocking his agitating eyebrow. The repeated motion drew her attention to the warm depths of gold, browns, and greens of his eyes, and she heard herself inhale a sharp intake of air.

  Blake leaned in closer and nodded toward her blouse as a scoundrel-like smile transformed his face. “It appears your top is unbuttoned.”

  Sam swayed under the intensity of his gaze for a full minute before she interpreted the meaning of his words. Glancing down, she saw her full frontal of exposed flesh. Heat seared her cheeks as she fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, refusing to look at him.

  Well, this explained the knowing look by their hostess. No wonder Maggie had acted in such a way. She cringed. Was it also the reason for Blake buying her breakfast? Did he think…? She couldn’t even answer her own question before an image flashed of their two bodies intertwined, bare skin touching skin…

  “You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sam blurted, rechecking the small buttons on her shirt before meeting his gaze.

  “Well, I can’t complain about the view,” he replied with a slow drawl and a brazen wink of his own.

  A spike of electricity shot through her, and she tried unsuccessfully to ignore the jolt. Apparently, he appreciated what he saw. The thought was both unnerving and exciting.

  “I guess that’s what happens when you sleep it off in a car,” he continued to badger before taking a swallow from his coffee mug.

  “Sleep it off?” Sam repeated.

  The odd comment caught her off guard, until his meaning sank in, and she released a sound bout of laughter. Evidently, he was under the impression she’d spent the night drinking.

  “There was no alcohol involved, officer…Scout’s honor,” she said, crossing her right hand over her heart.

  He chimed in with a deep chuckle bouncing off the walls and filling the room.

  “I could be wrong, but I think it’s more like this.” He held two fingers up in a peace sign.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she acknowledged, shrugging it off with a smile. A peace sign didn’t quite seem right either, but she couldn’t say for sure. Being a part of the group was not how she’d spent her childhood. Besides, Sam was far more interested in the way her mood had changed so quickly from irritation to infatuation. “As far as sleeping in the car…I was lost,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “Yeah, I figured you were either lost or under the influence. Where did you say you were from?” He took another drink, cupping the orange coffee mug with both hands. Even though the cup was enormous, it seemed small in his grasp.

  “I didn’t.” She drank a sip of her coffee. Closing her eyes, she savored the hot liquid. It wasn’t Starbucks, but it was strong, and after the night she had…pure heaven. “Florida,” she finally offered. “Miami Beach. I just got in last night, drove straight from the airport.”

  “Florida? Well, what do you think of Alaska? I’ll bet it’s a little different than what you’re used to.”

  “Yeah, it is,” she said thoughtfully as another giggle escaped. She hardly recognized herself. Who was this person she’d transformed into? Rarely had she felt so giddy. And with a complete stranger to boot. “Alaska is beautiful though…what I’ve seen so far anyway. A bit debilitating though. Everything is so remote. And last night, I swear there was something in the woods.”

  “More than likely a moose.” Blake scratched his head thoughtfully. “Scared you, huh?”

  She nodded, reliving the nightmare.

  “Maybe it was a bear,” he said with a suspiciously naughty grin.

  It took her a minute to realize he was just toying with her.

  “All kidding aside, it could have been. Good possibility.” A solemn expression sobered his face. “It’s late spring. Grizzlies, or brown bears, are just waking up from hibernation. Blacks started in April. Regardless, I’m sure they’re all pretty hungry right about now.”

  “A bear?” Sam swallowed hard, her fears from last night returning with a vengeance. Being an animal’s next meal was not part of the plan. Especially a starving grizzly. A shudder shot down her spine. Even saying the word invoked terror.

  Her gaze was drawn to the animated bear-shaped salt shaker on their table. She picked it up, turning the cartoonish item over in her hands before placing it to rest beside a ceramic, honey comb marked pepper.

  “So, how long are you visiting?”

  “Visiting?” she repeated, thankful for the change of subject. She glanced up and was immediately locked into his stare. “I’m thinking about two more minutes. Should give me enough time to book a flight on the next plane out of here.”

  He laughed, choking down a mouthful of coffee.

  She joined in with a girlish chortle before continuing. “To be honest, I’m going to be here for three months.”

  “Job?”

  Sam nodded, feeling at ease in his company. “I’m making a travel brochure. My boss thought I needed to live Alaska before I could sell it.”

  Her thoughts drifted, recalling Stanley’s parting words of advice. Live Alaska.

  If only it was so easy.

  “I might as well get started now.” She searched through her purse for the small pad of paper and a pen she always carried. “Found it.” She withdrew the notebook, pen in hand. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about this grand state?”

  Blake answered with a curt shake of his head.

  Apparently not. She shrugged and tossed the small pad back into the shoulder bag, excusing his behavior. In her line of work, she’d found out early on some people didn’t like to answer questions.

  He leaned closer. An intense expression lined his face. “Tell me more.”

  The sudden seriousness changed the light, easy going tone of their conversation, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering. “About my job? I’m working on a travel advertisement. You know, a brochure. My goal is to make Carlton Landing more inviting.”

  Blake cupped his chin as if in deep thought. A scowl scrunched his eyebrows. After a moment of awkward silence, Sam was thankful to see Maggie emerge from the back with two steamy plates of food in her hands.

  The waitress deposited one in front of each of them. “Do you need anything else?”

  They both shook their heads.

  Grateful for the distraction, Sam toyed with her food as her mind raced with reasons for the grave interest of her work. She decided not to let his reaction affect her. Yet, she repeated the conversation over in her head any way.

  After several minutes, she could take no more. “Does that bother you?”

  “What?” Blake ask
ed, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  “The reason I’m here? What I do for a living?”

  He chuckled, but the sarcastic sound told Sam he didn’t find anything the least bit humorous.

  She scrutinized his face intently as he scooped more eggs on his fork. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she muttered, reaching for her coffee mug.

  Blake stood and tossed a napkin on his empty plate. “Well, to be honest, your job doesn’t bother me necessarily, but since it involves Alaska, it does make mine a lot harder to do.”

  Without giving her a chance to reply, he excused himself to pay the bill. The generous gesture gave her a minute to catch her breath as he walked away. She refused to let his words sink in. But, his opinion had stung, and she couldn’t help feel a little unnerved by the verbal assault.

  What exactly had he meant anyway?

  Dismissing his reaction, she took advantage of the man’s absence by jotting down mental notes of the décor of the café. The space, rustic with a large moose head and other various animals mounted on the walls, catered to hunters and fishermen.

  Even the dinner specials added to the theme. The meals boasted names such as the Hunter’s Quarry and the Fisherman’s Catch of the Day, and Sam wondered if she could get away with slipping a menu into her purse as a memento.

  Any thoughts of criminal activity seized as soon as Blake returned to the table and probed her with an intense glare.

  “Sorry. I guess I owe you an apology. I’m a little overly protective of the state. Tourists aren’t high on my list,” he hesitated as if in deep thought. After several minutes, he sucked in a ragged breath and then let it out slow before continuing. “Listen, I’ll make you a deal. I will tell you everything about Alaska. I’ll even show you around…so…so you can make Carlton Landing more inviting.”

  Internally, she questioned the tensely offered suggestion, stunned and unsure, before her insistent need to succeed flared and reared its ugly head. “What’s the catch?” she asked, suspicious of the proposition. More times than not, there was a catch.

  “No catch,” he shrugged.

  Something wasn’t sitting well. The man changed from pleasant and engaging to guarded and unreadable in an instant, and then offered her the opportunity of a lifetime?

  There’s definitely a catch.

  “Okay, a small one,” he finally admitted, pausing to take the last sip out of his mug. “You have to portray Alaska in the right way.”

  “What?” she questioned, perplexed. Then, the meaning of his words hit home, inflaming her confusion to annoyance in a matter of sixty seconds.

  Did he think he was dealing with some kind of an idiot? As if she would do otherwise? Of course she would portray the state in the right way. Sam scoffed, indignant. That was her job.

  A job she was good at.

  “I don’t mean pretty.” He raised his hand in the air, cutting her off before she could respond. “Alaska sells itself. I want you to inform people. You know, make your tourist trap advertisement educational.”

  Mortified, she gasped at his unguarded insult.

  Blake, however, appeared unscathed by her reaction and continued with his proposal. “I want you to do more than paint a pretty picture. You have no idea how many people come up in the summer and trash the state. And do you have any clue what they do to the wildlife? I’m asking you to help me do my job.”

  Fuming, Sam held his gaze as she considered his offer. She couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity to be dropped into her lap. She could learn everything she needed to know about Alaska and have a handsome, but overly protective, guide of the state to show her. Not to mention what his knowledge could do for the brochure.

  It would also mean more time in his temperamental company.

  Sam considered her options. She had gotten lucky finding Carlton Landing, but what about locating her elusive hotel? As proven last night, it was more than evident she couldn’t even read a map correctly. So, what real choice did she have?

  She pictured her new office…the view of the ocean…the partnership. She was willing to take the chance. Besides, she’d never been the kind of girl who shied away from a challenge. Hell, so far, her life had been a series of challenges.

  “It’s a deal.” Her voice came off cool and professional despite the quickening of her heartbeat. She offered her hand to shake on the agreement. “We haven’t officially met. Samantha Held. I go by Sam.”

  “Blake Langford.” He extended his, grasping her hand and repeating the name she already knew by heart. He held onto her grasp for a minute longer than necessary. “I go by Wolf.”

  Again, the breathtaking grin resurfaced, and an odd pulsation spiked through Sam, leaving her insides quivering like a bowl of gelatin as she second guessed her decision.

  What kind of fool makes a deal with a man called Wolf?

  Chapter 4

  Apparently, Sam was the kind of fool who made deals with wolves.

  Not without apprehension, she drove headlong through a cloud of dust and questioned her gullible trust of a complete stranger. Yet, she continued trailing the faint, red glow of taillights belonging to the truck ahead of her, blindly following Blake, Wolf, or whatever his name.

  “Wolf,” she said, toying with the title out loud. Shaking her head, she scoffed. She’d never be able to call him that. It just didn’t seem right. Of course, neither did driving to an unknown location with a man she’d just met. And just where the hell were they going anyway? To his den? Blake told her they were headed to the Klondike Hotel, yet she couldn’t help but question their true destination. It appeared as if they were en route to the middle of nowhere.

  “Damn it,” she cursed after hitting another pot hole and the rental car bottomed out. No wonder the smart-mouthed kid at Rent A Ride had suggested a different vehicle when she chose the sports car. At the moment, the great advice made little difference to her stinging pride. Not to mention her aching backside taking the brunt of the blows.

  Attempting to catch a fleeting glance at his taillights, she rolled her window down and received a large mouthful of dusty, road grit in the process. Trying hard, she fought off the frustration building. The promise of an indulgent hot bath and a lush bed were the only things taking the edge off.

  Blake had laughed when she’d mentioned her accommodations. When Sam questioned his response, he shrugged his brawny shoulders and suggested she allow him to show her. Five miles down a dirt road with no end in sight, she began to question her naivety yet again.

  How foolish was it to heedlessly pursue a man she knew so little about? Not only was she debating her choice to trail behind Blake, she was questioning her sanity. Was her career more important than her life? And why did it have to be him? A man whose mere presence invoked something indescribable within her every time she lost herself in the earthy depths of his gaze.

  Those damn eyes…as warm and inviting as whiskey on a frigid day. And just as dangerous.

  Unconsciously, she floored the gas to catch up.

  And then there was her boss. A spark of anger began to burn in the pit of her stomach, flipping the pancakes she’d eaten for breakfast a second time. Stanley made sure she was going to earn this promotion, every inch of the way. Leave it to Kolinsky to book her into a hotel far from any sight of civilization.

  Sam reached into the dark hole she called a purse, fumbling until her fingers made contact with the bumpy, rhinestone cover of her smartphone. Withdrawing the device, she glanced at the screen. No bars. She threw the useless cell back into the shoulder bag. Lucky for Stanley, she had no reception.

  This hotel had better be as grand as the man had described. She envisioned the captivating picture her boss had painted.

  “Full of rustic charm, the Klondike is famous for rooms as elegant as the natural elements allow them to be.”

  Just what did that mean anyway?

  According to Stanley, the Klondike was incomparable to the luxury of the finest hotels in
Miami. If so, why would such a luxurious hotel be built here, in the middle of nowhere? The question repeated itself, but Sam refused to ponder such a thought and stifled the negative gloom dashing her hope.

  A bright red light lit the dust, and she slammed on the brakes, stopping the rented Chevy within an inch of the tailgate of Blake’s truck. The minute the air settled, her heart dropped to her knees as a clear view of the hotel loomed in the background. Shocked, she opened the car door and stepped out for a closer inspection.

  Stanley was right. The Klondike was as incomparable as possible to the luxury of the finest hotels in Miami. In fact, the hotel wasn’t even on the same planet. It wasn’t even a hotel. For starters, the rooms weren’t actual rooms, but cabins. And looked as if they might house every furry creature in the forest.

  Sam sucked in her bottom lip and bit it just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Tasting a slight trace of copper, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  No, this wasn’t a bad dream.

  She counted out ten log houses. Each cabin labeled with a clever name from a popular hotel. Much to her chagrin, she was to be staying in the regal, sought after, Hilton suite.

  A scowl furrowed her brow. This was so like Stanley. A hysteric giggle gurgled in her throat and then escaped. At least the “hotel” would be a great photo. Seizing her camera from the seat of the car, Sam began clicking pictures.

  Rustic charm indeed, she scoffed, and reconsidered the phrase “as elegant as the natural element’s allowed them to be.” Then again, the witty concept had portrayed the truth; they were as elegant as the natural elements allowed.

  Sam recapped the lens to her 35 mm and wished she’d delved deeper into Stanley’s keen play on words. The worst part was, she’d known better. After all, it was their job to paint a pretty picture. This was her punishment for backing the man into a corner. No doubt her boss was laughing like a mad lunatic at his well-played ploy.

  She took a few steps closer and paused outside the cabin’s door. Perhaps this wasn’t as bad as it seemed. At least she would be able to bathe off the dust from the road.