Alaskan Nights by Anna Leigh Keaton

unbuckled her belt to remove the gun. “I only fire when I feel threatened. So, unless you plan to attack me, you’re safe. Of course…” She grinned at him. “…all I’d have to do is hit you in the head and you’d be down for the count.”
    “That I would. Nice looking fish. You know how to cook ’em?”
    She set the pistol, still in its holster, on a shelf in the pantry. When she turned toward Brandon, she scowled and planted her fists on her hips, bristling at the know-it-all male tone in his voice. “I think I can manage. I also do laundry, dishes, and windows. If you’ll notice, I managed to catch them, and I’m pretty sure I cleaned them properly. If not, I’m sure you’ll point out my flaws, now won’t you?”
    “Whew, inhale a little too much Deet out there? Someone came home in a rotten mood.” He held up his hand in surrender. “Guess all the sweet-talking and pampering is over, huh? Time to fend for myself?”
    Surprising herself, she burst out laughing. It seemed like it had been so long since anyone put her in her place when her mood got bent out of shape. “Sorry. I hate mosquitoes, and I hate the smell of bug repellant. Deep woods scented, my butt.” Her smile faded. “But most of all I hate my competence being questioned. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
    “And anyone else that drops in your lap. I’m sorry. Outside of Alaska, I’m not used to seeing women walk around with a .45 strapped to their side. I guess I’ve been away from home too long. I know you are perfectly capable. You’re wonderfully capable. You’re just plain wonderful.”
    She laughed again as she headed to the counter to start peeling potatoes. “Laying it on a bit thick now, aren’t you?”
    “Not in the least.” He stretched out on the couch, his head where he usually propped his feet, and watched her work. “I have a feeling you saved my sorry hide. I owe you.”
    Sending him a frown, she shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything. Actually, it’s nice having you here. I think I was going a little crazy being by myself.”
    “I thought you wanted solitude. That’s why you came here. All I’m doing is ruining your alone time.”
    Isabella laid the first peeled potato in a cooking pot. “I thought that’s what I wanted too, but I was wrong.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I’m not good with loneliness.”
     

Chapter Five
     
    A tiny fist seemed to squeeze Brandon’s heart. What was her story? He had to know. But he wouldn’t push for answers now. Timing was everything during an interrogation, and if the wrong question was asked at the wrong time, the subject would clam up. She needed to feel comfortable with him before he dove into the big questions.
    “So, how do you plan to cook those fish? I’m not questioning your competence now,” he added hastily, flashing his trademark make-the-women-swoon grin, “so don’t get upset. I’m just curious.”
    She glanced at him, a little smile tipping her lips a fraction of an inch. Damn, she was pretty.
    “Actually, I asked the pilot. He spent the first afternoon here with me, showing me how to use the fly rod. Showed me how to clean the fish and how to cook them dipped in seasoned flour and fried in oil. I had no idea the tails were even edible, all nice and crispy. I swear these are the best fish I’ve ever eaten. Well, no. The one night I stayed in the hotel in Fairbanks I ordered Alaskan halibut. Now that is some good fish.”
    Brandon chuckled. “I have a feeling you’ve seen things and been places in this world I could only dream about, yet you carry on about Alaskan fish like it’s ambrosia.”
    “I think it is.” She flashed him a quick, warm smile that made her simply light up. “Well, fresh Maine lobster and haddock is right up there on the list.”
    “Wait until you try Alaskan king crab straight out of the ocean.”
    “I saw those in the grocery store when I was buying supplies to come here.