Read Online Alaskan Wolf by Linda O. Johnston - Free Book Online

initial unwelcoming attitude at the dogsled ranch, and his obvious reluctance to take her on another trek onto the glaciers.
    He had kissed her, sure. Accepted her kiss. But he hadn’t pursued anything—probably for the best. He wasn’t really interested in her, and she shouldn’t be interested in him. She sighed as she walked out of the office center and closed the door behind her.
    Her room was on the next floor, so she headedtoward the reception area where the stairs were located.
    And felt a little creeped out. The lights here were low. No one waited behind the inn’s small reception desk for people to check-in, not at this hour.
    The place was quiet, too. The only sound she heard was warm air blowing through the heating system.
    She felt like running to her room, but just stepped up her pace toward the stairway past the desk. Whoever killed Shaun wasn’t likely to be at Inez’s. But from what she’d gathered from Patrick, the authorities hadn’t yet zeroed in on a suspect, so how could she know for sure?
    â€œYou okay?” said a voice from behind, startling her. She must have jumped a foot.
    She pivoted. Patrick stood there.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” she demanded, her body shaking.
    â€œI dropped my stuff in my room but figured…well, I thought you might want someone to walk you to yours. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked chastened, like a young boy who’d been chewed out for pulling a girl’s hair.
    â€œIt’s okay,” she said as her trembling stopped. “And you’re right. I’d appreciate some company. Everyone around here’ll be nervous as word gets out about what happened to Shaun.”
    â€œYeah.” His expression shuttered again. Poorguy. Obviously in pain, yet not willing to show his emotions.
    â€œI’m upstairs,” she said gently. “This way.” And realized that, like he had done before, she’d said something that could be misinterpreted as an invitation for more than a stroll to her door.
    That would have made her smile under other circumstances. But games like that were not appropriate tonight.
    She headed up the stairway, glad to hear his footsteps behind her.
    The hallway upstairs was dimly lit. Her room was nearly at the end. When she got there, she reached into her pocket, extracted her key and unlocked the door.
    She turned back toward Patrick. “Thanks for walking me here,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb other guests. “And…well, if there’s anything I can do to help about Shaun, please let me know.”
    His expression was bleak. She wanted in the worst way to cheer him.
    Almost involuntarily, she stood up on her toes and kissed him. Gently. On the mouth. Not quite sisterly, but not suggestive, either.
    He responded immediately. His arms went around her, and she was suddenly in the middle of a torrid embrace that made her gasp. His kiss grew so sexythat it nearly made her knees buckle. She considered tugging him into her room.
    But he pulled away abruptly. A light in his amber eyes suggested that he, too, was more than a little aroused.
    Even so… “Good night again,” he said and strode off down the hall.
    Â 
    Patrick slept only about an hour that night.
    His bed at the B and B was comfortable enough. His state of mind was not.
    Lying awake in almost complete darkness, beneath the duvet in the room that smelled of pine-scented cleaning solutions, he thought a lot—too much— about Mariah. She was in the same building, one floor away.
    He imagined what she looked like in bed. He remembered that not-so-chaste kiss. And their couple of prior kisses—too short, yet arousing.
    He had to get away, stay far away, from the woman who wrote about animals. Not just sleep in a different building from her.
    He also thought about Shaun. His murder. The blood.
    The sights, the sounds, the smells around the sled hands’ house.
    How