Читать книгу Return of the Wolf - Karen Whiddon - Страница 5

Memphis Ayers was shocked by her actions. She normally wasn’t the slightest bit impulsive. Yet she’d just kissed a total stranger because of her dreams.

When she’d won the all-expense-paid fishing trip at work for having top sales in the second quarter, she’d been thrilled. Even though she hadn’t tried fishing since her father died, she’d always loved the sport.

And she’d never fished for salmon. So, here she was in beautiful Campbell River, British Columbia, with a fishing guide who not only looked like a Viking come to life, but the man she’d seen in her dreams for years. She’d had numerous nocturnal visits to a place of ice and snow, and seen tall, broad-shouldered men who seemed larger than life, with their pets, large dogs or wolves, running at their side. This man had been there, looking much the same, and she’d known they’d been lovers then.

His reaction to her confirmed this.

Memphis knew in her gut that it was entirely possible they’d known each other and loved each other before. So in a split second, she’d done something completely and utterly out of character, something crazy, insane and a little bit wanton.

She’d kissed the man. To her surprise, he’d kissed her back. And then some.

After the initial shocking blaze of heat, the situation reversed. Though she’d been the instigator, he took control. His mouth claimed hers, hard and searching, hungry and sensual, making her head spin and her blood sing.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, staring at each other. With that kiss still singing in her veins, she touched her mouth, her hand trembling.

The kiss had been both familiar and arousing. Beloved and awakening, as if she’d been waiting her entire life.

Maybe she had.

“I’m…,” she began, about to apologize.

All of a sudden, one of the fishing poles bent double, the line singing as it played out. Gideon leaped forward, grabbed it and jerked hard.

“Fish on!” he shouted. Immediately, the other boats started their engines, pulled anchor and began to move away.

“Here.” He handed her the pole. “The hook’s set. Feels like a big one. Start reeling. Keep the line even, but play him a little.”

Heart thundering, she placed her feet wide apart to brace herself and did as he asked. She’d never had a fish pull as strongly as this. “He must be huge.”

Gideon moved into place behind her, standing close enough that their bodies touched. “Keep reeling,” he ordered. “More, more. Steady now.”

With a flash of silver, the salmon came out of the water, maybe fifty feet away. It splashed back down, sending a foamy spray into the air.

“He’s making a run for it.” Gideon spoke close to her ear. “Reel, reel. Don’t let the line go loose.”

Reeling furiously, pulse hammering in her ears, she thrilled to both the sensation of Gideon touching her and the adrenaline rush of battling the wily salmon.

“He’s getting close.” Gideon stepped around her, grabbing a huge fishing net. “See him there? Don’t let him go under the boat.”

Still reeling, she tried to comply.

“Get ready. Steady, steady, now!” With a swift motion, he swung the net into the water and scooped up a giant, silver-scaled fish. “We got him!”

Thrashing on the floor of the boat, the wild salmon was beautiful. Spots of rainbow colors decorated his silver-and-gray skin. His mouth worked furiously as he fought to break free.

Despite herself, Memphis felt sorry for the majestic fish. Part of her wanted to instruct Gideon to release him, even though he was far beyond the size required to set free.

But she’d traveled to Painter’s Lodge to catch salmon. They would package it and send it home with her. She’d keep her catch.

“How big is it?” she asked, out of breath.

Gideon shot her a glance, a congratulatory grin on his face. “I’d guess twenty-five pounds or more. We’ll know for sure when we get back to the lodge and weigh him.”

She wanted to jump up and down with excitement. Worse, she wanted to kiss Gideon again. Adrenaline only fueled her intense attraction to him.

“You might want to look away now,” he told her gently. “I’ve got to kill it so it doesn’t suffer.”

“Why now?” Though she’d known the fish would have to die, she felt unprepared. “When I went deep-sea fishing, they just put the fish on ice.”

Shaking his head, he lifted a mallet. “It’s more humane this way, trust me. If I don’t kill it now, it will slowly suffocate.”

Nodding, she blinked back foolish tears. She’d fished her entire life, but never before against such a noble adversary.

Gideon put her catch into his built-in cooler and closed the lid with a snap. “Do you want to fish some more?” he asked quietly. “We can move to another spot and let the others have a chance here.”

She could get lost in the way he looked at her. Dumbstruck, she nodded.

He hit the switch to bring up the anchor and then started the boat. A spray of cold water made her shiver.

“Sorry,” he said.

“What’s the water temperature this time of year?”

“About 12 Celsius. That’s 53 or 54 Fahrenheit.”

“Too cold for swimming then.”

He laughed. “You could, but it wouldn’t be comfortable.”

“How big was your fish?” One of the other guides called out as they went past.

“At least twenty-five pounds,” Gideon answered. “Not heavy enough for tyee, I don’t think.”

The other man laughed. “Biggest of the morning, so far.”

“The morning run’s not over yet.” Gideon’s easy, good nature was revealed as he gave encouragement.

As they moved through the water, she studied him, overwhelmingly conscious of his masculine appeal. He looked up and her pulse skittered as he met her gaze. Something in his look promised they hadn’t finished what they’d begun earlier.

He steered the Whaler into the early-morning mist, and the sight of both shore and the other boats was completely obliterated. As they moved into what appeared to be a large cove, he cut the engine and dropped anchor.

“Give me a minute to get set up.” Moving between rods, he baited and sank downriggers with an efficiency she couldn’t help but admire. His movements, full of masculine grace and vitality, were at once familiar and foreign to her.

Past life? The more time she spent with him, the more certain she became, though she’d say nothing definite to him yet. Part of her knew this certainty might be just wishful thinking, because there wasn’t a woman alive on the face of the earth who wouldn’t want a man like him. If she hadn’t seen his face in her dreams for years, she’d think this was the case. In fact, it was actually a relief to see the guy she’d dreamed of all her life. To know that man was real reinforced her faith that reincarnation was a fact. After all, Gideon did exist. Dreaming of a stranger who felt like a lover and then finding that man unexpectedly could not be only a coincidence. It had to be fate.

When he’d finished dropping the lines, he turned and gave her another heartstoppingly gorgeous grin.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Really?”

Typical male, she thought. He’d rather run a mile than talk about feelings. The normal Memphis, the rational and sane one who worked in insurance sales back in Seattle, would have said yes, we really need to talk. After all, they were virtual strangers—in this life—and they’d already kissed. She wanted more, much more, and needed to find out if he felt the same.

She glanced around, seeing no one. The thick fog gave the illusion of privacy, effectively hiding the other boats and guides from view. For all intents and purposes, they were alone.

But if they really were destined to be together, if they had, as she suspected, karma from past actions to work out, they would have plenty of time for talking. She didn’t want to frighten him away with too much too soon.

So instead, she stood and took the three steps necessary to bring her chest to chest with him.

“No,” she said. “I’d rather do this again.” And she lifted her face for another kiss.