Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

“Have you seen her yet?”

Gideon Aronditis turned and grinned at his coworker, rubbing his hands together to ward off the early-morning chill. “Not yet, Randy. But since I’ve been assigned to take her out for this morning’s run, I’ll see her sooner or later.”

“I’m surprised she wanted to get up this early to fish.”

“Why wouldn’t she? Everyone who’s even halfway serious about catching salmon knows the best times are dawn and dusk.”

“Yeah.” Randy scratched his head. “But still…”

Women rarely came alone to Painter’s Lodge, a salmon-fishing resort in Campbell River on beautiful Vancouver Island. So Gideon had no good idea what to expect. Would he be hauling her ass and gear out of the boat all morning long? He’d already put up with a bit of good-natured teasing.

“You know she’s going to be good luck,” Gideon said, only half joking. “I’ll bet you she catches the first tyee.” A tyee was a chinook salmon over thirty pounds.

Though the sun hadn’t yet come up—and wouldn’t for some time yet—clients began appearing at the equipment shack to meet up with their guides. Since the morning air carried a chill, even in late May, everyone dressed in layers. Most wore the standard-issue bright yellow rain slickers. A quick glance showed that all were, so far, strictly male.

“I bet she won’t show.” Teddy elbowed Gideon. “Maybe she decided to sleep in.”

“Yeah,” Randy said. “Who ever knew a woman who’d want to get up early enough to be out here at 6:00 a.m.?”

Gideon ignored them and began assembling his gear, making sure he had plenty of fresh bait. Then he walked down the pier to his slip and did a preliminary check on his boat, a 17-foot Boston Whaler.

Footsteps on the wooden plank alerted him.

“Are you Gideon?” A feminine voice laced with silk and sin asked.

Aha. She’d arrived. Fixing a pleasant smile on his face, Gideon looked up, and his mouth went dry. The smile slid off his face as he saw the woman standing there, the woman who could only be his fishing client. Like the other clients, she’d donned a yellow slicker and wore a baseball cap low over her eyes. Unlike the others, she was tall and willowy, with delicate features and smooth skin that appeared to glow in the pier lights. Though she’d pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, an escaping golden strand caressed her forehead. She was absolutely stunning, breathtakingly beautiful. More than that, she looked both familiar and beloved, though he didn’t know how that could be.

Gideon felt as though he’d been punched in the gut.

Staring at her outstretched hand, he collected his wits and consulted his sheet for her name. “I’m Gideon. You must be Memphis.”

“Yes. Memphis Ayers.”

He took her hand and another shock went through him.

He knew a moment of wonder at the delicate bone structure and the softness of her skin.

Inside, his wolf had come awake. Aware.

Hellhounds.

Somehow he managed to help her into the boat, ignoring his fellow guides and their curious looks. As the rising sun sent tendrils of orange and yellow over the horizon, he ran through the rest of his pre-trip check, and finally turned to make sure she was comfortable. Immediately, his mouth went dry.

She’d taken a seat in one of the hard plastic chairs and the morning light illuminated her like a halo. Everything about her—from her full, slightly parted lips, to the soft creaminess of her skin—made him yearn for her.

For the first time in his life, Gideon didn’t know what to say to a woman. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to touch her, taste her, make hot, passionate love to her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Sorry.” Face heating, he looked away and blindly stared at the boat next to his. The other guide, an older man, gave him a thumbs-up.

One by one, the other guys started their boats. Roaring motors shattered the perfect quiet of the early-morning stillness.

Relieved, Gideon turned his key. The powerful engine gunned to life. Normally, this was his favorite excursion of the day. The guides always took off all at once, in a mad rush to get their clients to that morning’s designated fishing spot up the Discovery Channel. The chilly morning air, sea spray in his face, the anticipation of hooking that perfect fish—all gave him a jolt of exhilaration.

This morning he had all that and more.

“Are you ready?” He had to shout to be heard over the noise of the engine.

Nodding, she flashed him a grin that lit up her heart-shaped face and completely took his breath away.

Okay. Focus. Taking a deep breath, he undid the last knot keeping them tied to the slip. He eased out into the channel and wove left to avoid Randy’s boat, then gunned his own and headed north up the channel.

Early clouds hung low over the water, making a swirl of fog. Above, an eagle screeched. This scene, so familiar, now felt completely different and new, painted in vibrant colors. Though it was a cliché, he knew this was because of his reaction to the woman seated behind him.

When they reached the huge bay, it was no surprise that several locals had arrived ahead of them. In this area, fishing was serious business, and when a local or client caught a good-size salmon, the radio went crazy.

Gideon stopped the boat and dropped the anchor.

“How deep is it?” she asked, her soft voice sending a shiver down his spine.

“Right here, close to two hundred feet. We fish using these downriggers.”

All around him, the bay grew quiet as each boat went through the same motions and prepared to fish.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said. “I can’t believe the way the fog coats everything with a muted kind of glow, as though it’s lit up from within.”

His heart skipped a beat, though he managed to murmur something in response. This woman had just voiced his exact, private sentiments, indicating she saw things differently, like him.

For the next several minutes, Gideon kept busy, baiting the hooks with cut-up bait, along with bright yellow lures.

As he sank the first downrigger, she stood, moving carefully to his side. He swore he felt the touch of her gaze as she studied him. His body stirred and the wolf inside him did, too.

“Have we met before?” she asked. “I know that must be impossible, but you look so familiar.”

Now he was able to smile. “No, we haven’t. I would never have forgotten meeting someone like you.”

She sucked in her breath, whether at his compliment or something else, he couldn’t tell. “When you smile, you’re…”

While waiting for her to continue, he couldn’t help but wonder if his smile had affected her the way hers had him.

“You’re beautiful, too,” she finished, blushing.

“I can’t shake the feeling I know you from somewhere.”

“Me, neither. Maybe we knew each other in a past life,” she said, grinning.

“You believe in reincarnation?” He looked askance at her, relaxing slightly as he saw the mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You’re not serious?”

She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I’ve always had vivid dreams of other times and places, I know there has to be a reason.”

“Everyone always thinks they were a king or a queen,” he said as gently as he could. “I think it’s a bunch of nonsense, but who am I to say? You never know. If that’s what you choose to believe, that’s your business.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.” She smiled, letting him know she hadn’t taken offense. “I’m not entirely sure about it myself. But I like that you aren’t afraid to say what you think.”

He wanted to tell her there were many things he liked about her, but held his tongue. No sense in alarming her.

Once the second downrigger had been baited and lowered, he went back to his seat.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” He remained standing, knowing he’d have to move fast if a fish took the bait.

Instead of staying in her seat, she followed him, standing so close their legs touched. “Are you married?”

His pulse kicked up a notch. “No. You?”

“No.” She took a deep breath, licked her lips and leaned closer. “I’ve dreamed about you. I couldn’t tell you earlier, because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

Gideon didn’t know how to respond to that, though his heartbeat accelerated.

She touched his arm. “Um, do you mind if I try something?”

He had to swallow at the immediate rush of carnal images her question provoked. “What?”

“This.” Bending close, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

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.

This woman, someone he’d only met less than an hour ago, belonged to him. The instant their lips had touched, he’d known. Shifters inevitably recognized the one when they met her. She was his. His mate.

The wolf inside him knew this, too. His beast snarled, eager to run, to hunt. As Gideon struggled to contain the other part of himself, he gazed down at the creamy-skinned beauty standing expectantly before him, head tilted up, soft pink lips moist and parted invitingly.

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