Northern Encounter by Jennifer LaBrecque Page B

always wanted bunk beds when I was a kid. There’s something cool about sleeping up above like that,” she said, her smile once again blooming with an easiness.
    Clint smiled back, caught up in the curve of her lips. “And it’s warmer up top. Heat rises.”
    “There is that.”
    Clint gestured to where Kobuk had curled up near the door. “He’d be just as happy outside and he’d weather the cold just fine but if he’s in here with us, it’s one more bit of shared body heat.”
    And that was a poor choice of phrase on his part because the thought that immediately chased “shared body heat” was of the two of them, him and Tessa—not the dog—wrapped in blankets, sharing skin-against-skin body heat. A flash of something in her eyes led him to believe she’d had the same instant image.
    She moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “Speaking of heat, how do you heat the cab in? Or do you heat it?”
    “You won’t think you’re in the tropics but we’ll knock the chill off with a propane heater. Since it’s just one room and fairly small at that, it gets surprisingly warm in a short time. Here, I’ll show you how to connect the canister and turn on the heater. We won’t, however, leave it on because of the fumes. I’ll also get the wood stove going. That’s our primary source of heat once the heater warms it up some.”
    He spent the next few minutes demonstrating the heater and the short-wave radio that provided emergency contact with Good Riddance. It took all of his effort to concentrate on the task at hand rather than on the contrast of the paleness of her hand against his darker weathered one and the scent of her nearness. He’d never had such a primal reaction to another per son.
    “You’ll want to take off your jacket and a couple of layers, otherwise you’ll be too chilly when we go out again.”
    While the heat worked its way into the corners of the room, Clint dug out their midmorning snack. “Caribou jerky,” he said, handing a portion to Tess. “It’s pure protein, which is what you’ll need to see you through the morning.”
    She nodded and bit off a chunk, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad. Actually, it’s pretty good.”
    “Beats the hell out of whale blubber.”
    “I’ll take your word on that.”
    While she ate, she arranged her equipment on the lower bunk farthest from the heater. “I’d like to avoid too much temperature difference—well, as much as possible, so I’ll leave them on the bottom bunk and away from the direct heat.”
    “That makes sense.”
    “When we start out, would you show me how to mush? That is what it’s called when you give the commands and Kobuk pulls the sled, right? Mushing?”
    “Sure. I can do that. You weren’t kidding about wanting to be guide-worthy, were you?”
    She shrugged and although her mouth curved into a smile, the depths of her spruce-colored eyes held a distant sadness. “You’re my guide but if something were to happen to you, and accidents do happen, I need to know how to survive out here on my own. At the end of the day, the only person you can really count on to take care of you, is you.”
    The fact that her statement seemed to have been borne from experience found a home deep inside him. And she was the last woman he wanted wending her way into him.

6
    M ERRILEE LOOKED AT the numbers on the ledger page for the third time without really seeing them. Biting back a sigh, she closed the book, her concentration not worth a hill of beans today. Of course, that’s what not sleeping all night when your man decided he’d move to the couch did to a woman. Bull’s sole response had been to murmur, “I can’t sleep with a married woman,” before he’d left the bed. She hadn’t followed him. She knew him well enough to recognize he needed time and space to process everything. He’d been gone before she came out of his bedroom this morning. Actually, she’d heard him leave around five.
    She was jerked out of