Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,22

in town.

“Come on, BW, git!” He slapped his hands together, spooking the moose into charging off into the forest. The dang thing was up to no good. Not the way to welcome a pretty girl to town.

“Do you know that moose?” she squeaked.

Crap, he had to watch that, especially with a cheechako. She wouldn’t understand.

“You called it BW,” she persisted like a badger.

“I think you’re hearing things.” The branch she held onto started to creak and give way. “Don’t move. You can’t climb trees like...that.”

She tumbled down through the boughs. He tried to catch her but wasn’t fast enough, and she dropped to the pine-needled forest floor.

He hurried and knelt by her side, his fingers spread wide over her, afraid to touch in case she was hurt bad. Her big blueberry eyes were wide open, and she didn’t seem to be breathing.

“You okay?” Please be okay. He’d planned to make a move once he got up the courage.

She sucked in a deep breath and glared at him. “You suck at this hero shit.”

“I wasn’t ready. Besides, anyone should know with one gander at these trees that they aren’t up to holding your weight.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Whoa.” He had three sisters and knew enough to tread carefully here. “If anything, you need to pack on a few pounds. Winter’s coming, and you need a layer of fat to survive it.” Or someone hot like me in your bed keeping you warm, he thought. Damn if she didn’t look adorable with her feathers all out of whack. He wanted to smooth her down. Maybe he should help her up off the ground first? “Here, let me give you a hand.” He reached for her, and she slapped his hands away.

“I don’t need any help.” She struggled to her feet, took one step and faltered. Luckily he was right there to wrap an arm around her. She sure was a little-bitty thing. Fairy-like really.

“Take it easy. That was a big fright you just suffered. Moose can be meaner than a stirred up porcupine.”

She once again slapped his hands back. “I can handle a fright. I think I cut my leg when you didn’t catch me.”

He let the ‘didn’t catch me’ accusation slide. “Let me see.” He turned her around like she was no more than a doll. Blood saturated her pant leg in the back of her upper thigh.

“Well, guess I get to play hero after all.” Lynx swung her up into his arms, against his bare chest, before she could utter an objection. The woman weighed no more than one of his nephew’s sled dogs. He probably shouldn’t mention that. Her being city folk and all, chances were she wouldn’t take nicely to being compared to a dog.

“Where are you taking me?”

“My house. It’s not far.”

She tightened her lips. Very nice lips. He’d noticed them before, but he hadn’t been this close. Now he wanted to get closer. A whole lot closer.

“Quit looking at me that way and watch where you’re walking. I don’t need to fall again. My backside is already going to be black and blue.”

He could rub something on her skin to help with the bruising.

“Don’t even say it.”

He had a feeling if he said anything right now it would be wrong. His mother would classify Eva as one of those high-maintenance types. But that was okay. He was as patient as the days were currently long.

Lynx walked out of the trees and into his backyard, up the stairs to his deck and into the log cabin he’d built himself.

“You live here?” Eva asked when he positioned her next to the kitchen bar so she’d have something to help hold her up. “I was this close to civilization? I thought I was lost.”

“Technically, if you don’t know your surroundings it doesn’t matter how close to town you are, the minute you step into the trees you’re lost.” He regarded her pixie-blond haircut, bird-like bones, and shortness of stature. “You shouldn’t go anywhere into the forest without someone with you.” An eagle could pick her off and feed her to its young.

Something must have shown in his expression. “I’m not a child.”

He buttoned up his lips and didn’t point out her attempt to outrun a fifteen-hundred pound moose and her non-existent tree climbing skills. Instead, he looked at the tear in her jeans. “That’s a pretty bad cut.”

She twisted to get a better look, but the area was high on her left leg right under that

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