by Cate Masters
“Then why is half of it still on your plate?”
“I, uh…” A shrug, and his laugh sounded like a teenager’s. He rubbed his knees. “The aurora should be great tonight. I hope you get some shots of it.”
Melanie brightened. “Yes. Rent some snowmobiles and take a night tour.”
“We already have plenty of that type of footage,” Hayden said. “Why do you make it sound as if you’re sending us off on some wild goose chase?”
“I’m not. It’s our last night, that’s all.”
“Last official night.” Buck nodded.
She turned to him. “Yes, here, but we still have another night in Kiruna.”
A smile spread across his face. “So it’s the last night I’ll be your guide. Officially.” Tomorrow night, no rules applied.
Another blush, and she practically glowed. “Yes. You’re right.”
“I don’t get it.” Hayden’s features twisted in confusion. “Are you guys speaking in code or something?”
“No,” he and Melanie said in unison.
As if a gong had struck him, Hayden blanked, and his mouth gaped. “Oh, shit.”
Time for Buck to bolt. “I need some air. I’m going for a walk.” He rose.
“Seriously?” Hayden’s high-pitched voice cracked. “A stroll in sub-zero weather? Maybe you’re going out to admire the night sky?”
Under his breath, Vic muttered, “Or something else.”
“Excuse me.” He strode away, aiming for the nearest exit. Cold air splashed his face but did nothing to restore his wits. Propelled by pent-up nerves, he had to work off some of this steam before he lost his mind. He’d already lost his professionalism.
“Buck,” someone called.
He pivoted in the snow. A hooded figure waved. Melanie. Alone? He squinted, searching for anyone in the shadows behind her. No one there.
She hurried closer. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” No dogs with him. No real reason to be out here.
“You’re not running away, are you?” Half teasing, half worried.
No? Maybe? “I had to get out of there.”
“Me, too. Can we talk?”
Here it came. The “I had a moment of pure insanity earlier and let’s pretend it never happened.” He flailed. “Shoot.” Me. Now.
Her gloved hands grabbed his coat and she nestled against him. “I don’t know. Anything. Or nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
A long exhale. “Melanie.” Arguments rushed up, too many to voice. None he wanted to face.
“Don’t say it,” she pleaded.
The desperation in her voice struck him deep. “What?”
“That this makes no sense. That after tomorrow night, I’ll be…” She gulped. “I want to be with you. Now. Can we? Please?”
What was she asking? Whatever she meant, everything in him said yes. Before he could speak, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. The rush overtook him. He released all the need, the longing. The worry. Now. Yes, the only thing that mattered.
Distant engines revved, then headlights captured them. Snowmobiles whooshed up and one slowed. “Funny,” Hayden yelled. “Go shoot the aurora, huh? Go screw yourselves.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Melanie grabbed his hand and tugged.
One by one, the snowmobiles zoomed away. Gina called, “Have fun.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” She’d be sure to catch hell from this.
“Hayden’s an asshole.”
No argument there. “I hope he’s not a tattletale. What if he complains?”
“I’m not worried.”
Or wouldn’t admit it. “What about your show? Your job?”
“I’ll handle it.” She jogged the last few feet to her room.
He resisted her tug to follow her inside. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you.”
Her eyes searched his. “Do you know how many times I’ve done this?”
Shit. “No.” And didn’t want to know.
“Zero. Never. Zip. Nada.”
A bubble of joy expanded in his chest. “In other words, none?”
“Buck, I swear.”
Jesus, she was dangerous. Too freaking adorable when she was trying to win an argument. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Seriously? Why not?”
“Okay, it does, or would, if these were normal circumstances. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He hadn’t been this addle-brained since leaving the States.
“Only one thing’s important. Do you want to be with me or not?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“I want you to be sure. No regrets, okay?”
Might as well ask him not to breathe. Regrets might hit him after tomorrow and eat him alive. “All that matters is now.” His new mantra. “I’d love to change the ‘here’ part to somewhere warm, though.”
She turned into him, and her lips met his in the sort of kiss that stole his breath, his thoughts, his soul.
On the other hand, he could make the most of it.
* * * *
In the darkness, faint green glowed through the semi-translucent walls in a shifting band. A light gently rippled through the clear ice. From somewhere beyond, a presence emanated, one that radiated enduring love.
Pete. Rather than coming to Melanie like he used to do, he remained out of sight. Out of reach, and she had the sense he was moving on.
A wave of pure peace washed over her. It lasted only an instant, but it was enough. Wherever Pete was, he was happy, and wanted her to be happy, too. She silently sent him all the love she’d clung to since his death.
In the next moment, he was gone, and she was firmly grounded in the present. Only the aurora borealis glowed beyond the ice, more beautiful than ever.
Buck’s breaths warmed Melanie’s face, holding her close. He nuzzled against her neck, pressed a kiss there. She held him tight, breathed in his scent.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Did I wake you?”
“I was only half-asleep.”
“Me, too. I didn’t want to miss a minute of tonight.”
She refused to think about tomorrow. “This feels almost too good. Like we’re dreaming.” In the room of glowing ice, they might have been in that in-between space. The emptiness past the real world. The place she used to crave. It was right here all along. With him.
“A really great dream.” His sweet kiss lingered on her lips even after he rested his cheek against hers.
Too good to wake up or even talk. She wished she could stretch these hours out into months. Get to know him in the smallest, most important ways. “Are you grumpy when you wake up?”
“Not exactly. I do require strong coffee before I’m coherent. You?”
“My body clock’s kind of anal. I’m up every day at the same time. I work out before the day job.”
“Which is an all-day workout.”
“True.” Wrong topic. No discussions about her job. “How did you become a tour guide?”
He groaned. “Here’s the abridged version. Hated my IT job, hated the way people screamed at me when the network went down or their computer froze. I found a “help wanted” ad online for Arctic Adventures. Everything about it appealed to me, the amazing landscape, the dogs, giving people something that would actually make them happy. So I applied. I have no idea why, but after a phone interview, Kenny Towson offered me the job.”
“And you left your life behind?”
“Timing is everything, as they say. I needed a change.”
“And you’re happy in Lapland?”
“I am. Or I was.” He trailed little kisses along her neck. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else, but maybe I’m being short-sighted.”
She couldn’t let him doubt his choice. “Don’t compromise. Not what you love.” To stop him from turning the conversation back to her job, she asked, “Are you warm enough?”
&
nbsp; “Toasty. Why, are you cold?”
“No, but I am craving a little body heat.”
More alert, he jerked his head up. “We could come up with a remedy.”
Already working on it. She unzipped her parka. “Why doesn’t someone make down coats that fasten together?”
“Let’s experiment. We’ll patent the idea. Make millions.” In one swoosh, he’d whipped open his coat.
She fitted herself against his chest. “Not interested in millions. Only in you.” His body. How he moved. How he felt in her arms.
No words could describe it. All she wanted to do was float in the sensation, let it carry her away, with him.
* * * *
In the morning, they hardly spoke after awakening. The weight of what was about to take place seemed to slow their actions, as if they could slow time. But he couldn’t stop the inevitable from happening. He tried to mentally distance himself, detach from the moment, but every minute dug deeper.
They found Melanie’s crew seated with the Icehotel host on what looked like tall thrones of glass, arranged in a circle. With Victor filming, Gina shot question after question at the man, ranging from how technicians hooked up the LED and fiber optic lighting throughout the Icehotel, to prompting the man to discuss the process of harvesting five thousand tons of crystal-clear ice in February and March for use in the hotel. She even teased from him how the ice gains its clarity because the river flows so slowly down from the mountains between Norway and Sweden on its path to the sea. Workers crafted almost one million cube-shaped glasses from the ice for use in the Icebar by tens of thousands of visitors in one season.
Melanie at first gaped, then grinned with a nod. “She’ll be fine.” She spoke so low, Buck wondered if she intended him to hear, so he didn’t ask what she meant.
Breakfast held no appeal. His senses askew, he couldn’t distinguish one type of pain from another. Hunger, exhaustion, the imminent departure of someone he desperately wanted to stay.
The others prodded her along, and he helped load her bags onto the snowmobiles. He couldn’t say what he really wanted to, so settled for, “Have a safe trip to Kiruna.”
Melanie’s gaze snapped to his. “You’re not coming?”
“I can’t.” He cleared the thickness from his throat. “My dogs.” Explanation enough. If he said anymore, he might lose it.
“They’ll be all right for one more day, won’t they?”
“I need to get them home. Take care of them.” Clear my head. Get on with my life.
Desperation crossed her face. He couldn’t bear it if she asked him to go. He’d do it. Probably do anything she asked. And it would end in disaster. “You should go. Your crew’s waiting.”
Her lip quivered. “Don’t.”
Helpless, he asked, “What?”
“Don’t pretend last night was nothing.”
“I’m not pretending.” He couldn’t bear the sadness in her voice, but the sight of tears welling in her eyes cut him worse. He grabbed her arms. “Last night was everything. Don’t you get it? It’s killing me to see you leave. But you have to go and I have to stay.”
She searched his face, then blew out a ragged breath. After a nod, she turned, ducked her head and shuffled away. Sniffling.
An urge rose up, pushing him toward her. He pushed back, rooting his feet where he stood.
Gina extended her hand. “Thanks for everything.” He shook it and she yanked him closer. “Don’t let her go,” she whispered.
“I can’t do anything about it.” Couldn’t offer her a life. How long before she’d end up hating him? Before she grew restless and left? Christ, he was already wrecked enough.
“Men are tragically stupid.” Gina trudged away.
Yep. That about summed it up. Worthless idiots. The reason Melanie had to leave. He’d only drag her down. The thought released him from where he stood. Christ. He turned, almost forgetting where he was headed. Barking from within the kennel reminded him. He dragged himself toward it and pushed inside.
Thumping tails, yips, and smiling canine faces turned his way. “Hey guys. Miss me?” Why did it seem weird to be talking to them? They were his best friends. The only ones he could depend on.
He greeted each one with a head rub, accepting their sloppy kisses. Gunnar, he saved for last. “How’s it going, buddy?” More energy today, anyway. And the dog didn’t protest inspection of the wound. Healing well. Good. “Ready to go home?” All he had to do was figure out the logistics of how.
And hope he didn’t collapse on the way. After what, two hours sleep last night? Any other time, it might be too much, but he operated on pure tension. Huskies needed the comfort and familiarity of home as much as he did. He’d make it happen.
The vet took pity on him and helped arrange another sleigh. If he had a normal life, he’d have a car, a nice enclosed vehicle to keep his dogs warm and dry. But they didn’t seem to mind, trotting alongside. He must have dozed off a few times because before he knew it, they were home.
The cabin. Halle-freaking-lujah. Welcoming and bleak at the same time. At least his bed was inside, and he couldn’t wait to sprawl on it.
With mechanical motions, he went through the necessary actions by rote. Unharnessed the dogs. Fed them. Filled the water bowls. Started a roaring fire in the woodstove. Cleaned himself up. Heated some food.
He stared into the flames and stoked the fire. Tried not to think about Melanie. In Kiruna. She wouldn’t leave until tomorrow morning. One more night. They could still have…
No. For what? So it could kill him all over again in the morning?
Not thinking straight. Need sleep. He slammed the bowl down and slogged to the bed. Covers still cold, but he’d be unconscious soon anyway. His head hit the pillow, and he tugged up the flannel sheet and comforters. A weight shifted the bed. Memories of last night flashed through his head like a 3D movie. Melanie. Fur met his outstretched hand, a cold nose on his cheek instead of warm lips. Bodo.
Doomed. Every night, she would haunt him. How could five days with her have totally ruined him? For what seemed like hours, he lay there, unable to move but unable to fall asleep either.
Barking echoed from the dogs’ enclosure. Their nails clipped along the wooden floorboards, then more yapping at the window.
“No, not now guys.” He punched the pillow and rolled over. A dim light moved along the wall. In between barking, a bell jingled. A sleigh had stopped outside. Ah, hell. Visitors?
Body heavy as concrete, he willed the bastards outside to go away. Another jingle, and the light shifted and faded. They left. Thank you. Then why were the dogs still in a frenzy? Wagging and yapping?
The door creaked open and shut. He jerked his head up and strained to see. Whoever had barged in, he hated them. “What the hell do you want?”
Another creak and the cold breeze stopped. The dogs settled.
“You,” she said.
“Melanie?” He scrambled up, tangling in the covers. “What are you… How did you get here?”
Swishing sounded, like she’d taken off her parka. “Gjertrud. I ran into her and she was headed this way. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” Something crashed as he stood in a frenzy. “Damn. Sorry. Let me find a light.”
Her arms looped around him. “Don’t go to any trouble.”
Calm suffused him. He enclosed her in an embrace, inhaled her warm breath, scented with coffee and peppermint—from now on, his favorite combo. “Funny, I was just dreaming about you.” A knit shirt and jeans, no thick coats keeping them apart. Tonight, nothing would.
“What were you dreaming?”
“This.” His mouth found hers. He tumbled back onto the bed with her in his arms.
Her soft squeal became a pleasured moan. “I like this dream.” Her caresses slid under his shirt. An unbelievably good sensation.
“There’s more.” He tugged her sweater up. When she didn’t resist, he kept going
until his fingers met skin. Glorious skin. Silky soft. He couldn’t stop touching. Exploring. Every soft mound and gentle curve, better than he remembered. He took his time and kissed every part of her, claiming it as his own.
He froze when fear snaked up to interrupt, to hiss he’d regret it, that he’d be left more hollow than before.
She stroked his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Words wouldn’t form. He couldn’t explain how she’d crumbled the wall he’d built around himself, and how the urge to run warred with the urge to surrender. He could only shake his head.
“Hey,” she said more softly. “You don’t have to dream anymore. This is much better.” In the flickering firelight, she glowed with something very much like love, so beautiful his heart ached. His fears melted, but not without resistance. He would pay for this dearly.
She clasped his head. “We’ll be all right.”
“I know.” He didn’t know whether she meant they’d each carry on no matter what, together or separately, but he’d accept either outcome. He wanted this. Wanted her. Now. He forced away the last nagging doubt and gave in to the moment. If tonight was all they had left, he’d make it the best he could. Give over his soul to her. If she could walk away after that, then they weren’t meant to be.
And he’d survive, but living alone would be tough. No one had ever imprinted on him so fast, so deep. He intended to leave his mark on her, too. On her heart, her soul. Her shoulder… he nipped hard. A gasp, and she arched her back, then wrapped herself more tightly around him. Entwined in limbs and spirit, their perfect rhythm drove his passion to maddening heights. He couldn’t taste enough of her, get close enough, bury himself deep enough.
Instead of holding back, keeping his mind and feelings locked away, mentally holding the most important parts of himself out of reach as he usually did, he loosed it all on her. And instead of a random lay, he experienced the most incredible night of his life. Worth whatever cost he’d have to pay later.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he gave in to exhaustion and fell blindingly, blissfully asleep.
He half-roused at the dogs’ barking mixed with the jingle of sleigh bells outside.
Melanie, already dressed, kissed his cheek. “I have to go take care of some things.”
