Alaska Heart Read online

  “When you turn around, look first. You can grab your camera after. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Anticipation buzzed through me. Or was it being so close to Dale?

  With a little nudge, Dale spun me around, and a gasp caught in my throat. His hands closed over my shoulders, anchoring me, keeping me earthbound amongst what had to be heaven.

  Rising above all the other mountains in the distance, Mount McKinley reached into the cerulean Alaskan sky like a white giant. Its peaks were arrowheads of rock encrusted in snow that glistened magically in the pink of the late afternoon sunlight. How incredibly small I was, like a speck of dust in comparison to the majesty of McKinley.

  “Oh, Dale…” My voice was nothing more than a rasp. I let my pack drop to my feet and leaned back against him. He folded his arms around me and squeezed. When I thought the moment couldn’t get any closer to perfection, he loosened my scarf enough to nuzzle his cold nose against my neck. Though I initially shivered at the contact, he quickly warmed the spot with the heat of his lips.

  Giving McKinley another look, I turned around to face Dale. He trailed his lips over my cheek and finally to my mouth where he did things that made my head spin. Our lips met as we tasted, savored each other. Great Goddess, I had shut myself off for too long. Or maybe I’d been waiting. Waiting for him.

  Whatever the case, Dale unlocked emotions in me. Trust, wanting, love. I wasn’t sure what to do with any of these, but my heart thudded wildly in my chest over the prospect. My skin longed to have Dale’s fingers spread across every inch of it. My lips wanted him to never stop kissing me.

  “Take your pictures.” The words were a whisper. “And let’s go.”

  Praise for ALASKA HEART

  “Christine DePetrillo's story grabs you and keeps you reading from the first page to the last. This is a story you won't want to miss.”

  ~JM Griffin, author of For Love of Livvy, Dirty Trouble, and the Faerie Cake Dead novels

  “DePetrillo writes a wonderful story with an intriguing blend of sarcasm, adventure, and emotion. The description makes Alaska come alive, and the voice captivates, making the reader forget it's a book.”

  ~Eden Elgabri, author of Magick Touch, Toy with Me, and Conference Cupid

  Alaska Heart

  by

  Christine DePetrillo

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2010 by Christine DePetrillo

  Originally published by Wild Rose Press

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by AmazonEncore, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonEncore are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  eISBN: 9781503990296

  Cover Designer: Angela Anderson

  This title was previously published by Wild Rose Press; this version has been reproduced from Wild Rose Press archive files.

  Dedication

  To my grandmother,

  who has always made me feel like a celebrity

  Dear Reader,

  WARNING: This book has the amazing ability to turn cat people into dog people, warm-weather folks into cold-weather folks, skeptics into believers in true love. Proceed with caution, but don’t be afraid to enjoy yourself.

  Happy reading,

  Christine DePetrillo

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A word about the author...

  Chapter One

  gaia-girl706:

  Congratulations! First place in the Iditarod. Impressive!

  sled-dog16:

  Thanks! Looking forward to taking some time off now.

  gaia-girl706:

  You deserve some rest.

  sled-dog16:

  Think my body—and my dogs—demand it.

  gaia-girl706:

  LOL. What will you do?

  sled-dog16:

  Sleep. ☺

  gaia-girl706:

  Slob. ☺

  sled-dog16:

  Definitely. If you’d come up to Fairbanks to visit me, maybe I wouldn’t be so bored during my “well-deserved” rest.

  gaia-girl706:

  Smart girls don’t just pack up and fly across the country to visit a complete stranger. Don’t you ever watch the news? That’s how people get chopped up into little bits and sold on e-Bay.

  sled-dog16:

  1. Uhh…hello? Can’t call me a “complete stranger” after a year of emailing.

  2. They don’t let serial killers race in the Iditarod.

  3. C’mon. Got a kick-ass log cabin. Nice and quiet.

  gaia-girl706:

  Nice and quiet! Just what a serial killer would want. A place where no one would hear the victim’s screams.

  sled-dog16:

  Okay, okay. Not nice and quiet. Loud—lots of dogs barking all the time—with cops riding by every 15 minutes.

  gaia-girl706:

  Why are cops riding by every 15 minutes? You under surveillance?

  sled-dog16:

  *sigh*

  gaia-girl706:

  Don’t be so dramatic.

  sled-dog16:

  Me?

  gaia-girl706:

  Yes, you. You know I’m right. Can’t come to Fairbanks. Besides the obvious fact you could be a lunatic, I have to work.

  sled-dog16:

  Not a lunatic. You write for a magazine. Could do that anywhere. Even in Fairbanks.

  gaia-girl706:

  My profile says I write for a magazine, but how do you know that’s true? Maybe I’m with the FBI and in the middle of an important, matter-of-national-security case right now.

  sled-dog16:

  If you’re with the FBI, why are you afraid of a harmless dog racer?

  gaia-girl706:

  How do I know you’re harmless?

  sled-dog16:

  *double sigh* Look me up on the web, will ya? Do a search on “handsome Iditarod winner.” I assure you, I will come up clean as a whistle.

  gaia-girl706:

  Always found whistles to be kinda dirty. Spit gets trapped in them and such.

  sled-dog16:

  Shit. You’re impossible!

  gaia-girl706:

  True. See, you don’t want someone like me to visit you. Just drive you nuts.

  sled-dog16:

  That could be a good thing. ☺ Think about it, okay? Check out my background with your
FBI colleagues and think about it. Open invite. Just come.

  I stared at sled-dog16’s last words on my laptop screen.

  Just come.

  Yeah, okay. Simply toss my parka, mittens, and several pairs of ugly thermal underwear into my suitcase and trek from New York to Alaska. To stay with a man I’d never met, no less. Good way to end up dead for sure. No, thanks. I was fond of being alive.

  I jumped when my cell phone rang. Okay, technically it played a Metallica montage, but anyway, hard rock fit the pace of my work life at Gaia magazine. Every day was hustle and bustle. For the most part though, I craved the insanity, the momentum. Sitting idly made me nervous. The busier I was, the better. Another reason I couldn’t fathom dropping everything and going to Alaska. Too much landscape and serenity for the city girl I’d become.

  My phone rang again. “Hello?”

  “Are you on your way or what?”

  Just like Meg. Had the patience of a mosquito. “Yeah, I’m coming. Why are you in such a rush anyway?” I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder while I globbed toothpaste onto my brush.

  “I just have some major news to tell you about last night at The Hive.” Meg let out a breathy sigh. The Hive was the newest New York hotspot dance club. It literally resembled a bee’s hive complete with bouncers dressed in black-and-yellow striped shirts. I’d gone a couple of times with Meg, but was never comfortable with the half-naked dress code. Too many drones trying to get with one queen.

  “So, who is he?” A fat bead of foamy toothpaste dribbled down my chin while I waited for a response.

  “Nope,” Meg said. “On the drive in. Hurry up.” She hung up and once again I was left to wonder. She always did that to me.

  When I’d first met her, she’d folded her arms across her chest to regard me in my cubicle at Gaia.

  “I write the gardening column for Gaia, and my cubicle is down the hall. You and I are going to be friends, or I’m going to take a shotgun to the morons who work here. I’ve had enough. See you at lunch.”

  Having said that, she marched out on the highest pair of heels I’d ever seen, and we’ve been friends ever since. That was nearly six years ago.

  As I dressed for work, I glanced at a photo of Meg and me on my bureau. I didn’t put it there. Meg did. Plopped it right down after my dad died and said I still had family who loved me. Her. Meg was outspoken, bossy, and downright irritating sometimes, but she was right. She was my family, and I loved her like a sister.

  That explains why I raced to her apartment to hear last night’s Adventures in the Life of Meg Petrisi. When I parked in front of her apartment building, Meg was sitting on the front steps talking to one of her neighbors. The older woman wagged a finger at her, no doubt giving Meg advice. Meg shifted her eyes to my car and smiled. She slid off the steps and backed over to the car door.

  “Okay. Yes, yes, I will. Thank you.” Meg huffed as she closed the door. “I don’t know why that woman is compelled to give me tips about protecting myself.”

  I looked over at Meg’s outfit. Black mini-skirt, silver camisole with what looked like a gray fishnet tossed over it, knee-high black boots with deadly spikes for heels flowing into black pantyhose.

  “It’s a mystery, Meg.” I shrugged. I said I loved Meg. I didn’t say I always got her. “Okay, spill it.”

  “Spill what?” Meg tossed her jet-black hair back. I should go on record as saying Meg was definitely the more attractive of the two of us. Men crossed crowded rooms all the time to stand next to Meg. She had that exotic beauty thing going with her sleek, dark hair, olive skin, and chocolate eyes. Besides that, she was a fitness nut, and her body showed it.

  On the other hand, I was your average, 5’6” brunette. My hair was long and wavy, usually gathered in a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way. I had eyes someone once told me were the color of turquoise, but I think he was slightly drunk at the time. Anyway, I wasn’t hideous, but I didn’t sparkle either. Not like Meg.

  “C’mon, Meg. You know I live my social life vicariously through yours.” I kept my eyes focused on the road. Mornings in New York City were a driver’s nightmare. Sometimes I thought about getting rid of my car and using the subway. Then I sat behind the steering wheel, the bucket seats hugging my backside, and I couldn’t do it. I loved my car. Loved being in control.

  “You could get your own social life you know.” Meg rolled her eyes like she did every time she said I had to get out more, not work so much. Blah, blah, blah.

  “I could get my own social life,” I said, “but you know how that always goes. Alanna meets man. Alanna likes man. Man soon becomes a giant pain in my ass. I just don’t have time for it.” Besides, letting someone into your personal circle was always risky.

  Meg huffed, letting me know I was hopeless when it came to finding a man. Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn’t care.

  Maybe I did.

  “So his name is Matt,” Meg finally said. “He’s just adorable. Met him at the bookstore…”

  Meg unraveled her tale while I drove us to work. I nodded and commented here and there, but my mind kept wandering to sled dogs.

  ****

  The lime green sticky note stuck to my computer monitor caught my attention as it was intended to do. My boss, Evelynne Seaton, did everything in green. Her office was painted green, and all her furniture was green. She wore green in some shade every day. She edited copy in green ink. She left green sticky notes. She didn’t even have to sign her name.

  “9:00, conference room,” this particular note read.

  I dumped my bag on my desk, checked my mail, reorganized stacks of papers, and then was fresh out of delay tactics. I went in search of Evelynne. Better to get it over with.

  “Hey.” Meg popped up from her cubicle as I passed by.

  Okay. Evelynne could wait a few more minutes.

  “Hey.” I leaned on the threshold of Meg’s cube. “You know what this is about?” I held up the sticky note.

  “Nope,” Meg said. “Got one of my own though.” She waved a matching green square. “You late on something?”

  I raised my eyebrows at Meg. How dare she? “Am I ever late?”

  Meg shook her head. “No. You work way too hard. I only get these love notes when I’m slacking off.” She looked at her computer screen and sighed. “Probably be getting another one shortly for this.” Meg motioned to the screen and the mishmash of books and papers strewn across her desk. “It’s total crap.”

  “I’m sure it’s not total crap.”

  “Okay. It’s partial crap, and it’s going to be late partial crap.” She shrugged, then turned her gaze toward me. “You headed to the conference room now?”

  I nodded. “You coming?”

  “Neither one of us is going in there alone.” Meg pushed away from her desk.

  When Evelynne’s secretary saw our lime green sticky notes, she waved us over.

  “Go right on in, ladies.” Something in her eyes was electric with anticipation. As if she knew a secret and was excited to send us into the spider’s lair.

  “Thanks, Becky.” Why was my throat dry?

  When I opened the door to the conference room adjacent to Evelynne’s office, I almost didn’t see her at first. Her dress blended in with the walls so perfectly she was almost totally camouflaged. I was brown, too brown, to be in that room with her. Why hadn’t I made Meg go in first?

  “Ah, Alanna.” Evelynne had a way of making words sound like cat purrs. “How are you today?”

  Scared. “Fine, thanks. And you?”

  “Good. Good. Have a seat. You too, Meg.” She waved to a pair of leather chairs in front of the huge conference table. Evelynne took a seat at the head and nodded to other writers as they trailed in. They all looked like frightened mice in front of a hungry cat.

  “How’s the story on urban wildlife habitats going?” Evelynne glanced at me before donning a pair of hunter green reading glasses.

  “I’ll probably have it finished by the
end of the week,” I said. “I have a few more people to interview and a couple more photos to take.” My palms left wet marks on the thighs of my pants. I shifted my hands to the armrests of the chair, hoping my palms would dry.

  “That sounds good.” Evelynne drummed her fingers on the edge of the table as if this small talk was in the way.

  “What’s going on, Evelynne?” Meg said. Direct. To the point. Thank the Goddess for Meg.

  Evelynne smiled, just a subtle upward twitch of her lips. She signaled to Becky to close the door, sealing us all in together. Becky then bustled around the table dropping sage-colored file folders in front of every writer. When she was done, she slipped out of the room, silent and ghostlike.

  “I know you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here this morning,” Evelynne began. Somebody’s chair squeaked at the other end of the table, and all of our heads snapped to that direction. Somebody else poured water, the crystal pitcher clanking against the glass. Every noise made us jump. Tension in the room was at an all time high.

  “A special challenge.” Evelynne raised her gray eyes to me first, then rested them on everyone else, one at a time. “It’s promotion time at Gaia.”

  Promotion was the magic word. I’d worked for Gaia for six years. I was twenty-eight. Definitely time for the next level. I’d been working toward that level for a while. Every year at promotion time, I dreamed about making the cut, but Evelynne had her favorites, who had been working for her far longer than I had.

  This was what I needed. Work was my life. It was all I wanted, all I had.

  “Cover stories,” Evelynne said.

  Someone whistled. Getting a shot at a cover story was big.

  “With photos.”

  My own pulse quickened as Meg’s hand clamped onto my forearm under the table.

  “Huge office next to mine with a huge paycheck to go along with it.”

  I squeezed Meg’s hand and didn’t even care that I was sweating all over hers.

  “Promotion time gives me the chance to see who is merely working here and who is making Gaia their life.” Evelynne stood and glided around the room as she spoke. The fabric of her dress whispered as she moved. Her kiwi-scented perfume put us all in a trance.