Free Northern Encounter by Jennifer LaBrecque

resilient and capable, but he’d sensed a softness, a vulnerability about her that was grounded more in his intuition than anything she’d said or done.
    She wrapped the camera she’d been carrying inside her parka and placed it in her lap. Kobuk lay curled between them. “Does he like to be patted? Rubbed? Or would he prefer to be left alone?”
    “That dog will take any attention you’re willing to give him. He’s shameless.”
    She scratched Kobuk behind the ears. “He’s not shameless. He’s a good boy. And he was beautiful pulling the sled earlier today. Weren’t you? You did such a nice job,” she said in a crooning, sing-song voice. She buried her hands in his fur, kneading and stroking. There was an inherent sensuality to her movements that tightened Clint’s gut. It was far too easy to imagine the slide of her fingers and palms against his bare skin, stroking, kneading. And there was the erotic contrast of her light skin against his darkness. Damn it to hell. He had to think about something other than her touching him or him touching her or the thrust of her nipples and the curve of her lips.
    He had never been a man driven by his carnal de sires, but it was as if Tessa had awakened a slumbering part of him and damned if he knew what to do about it other than ignore it. He hoped like hell he didn’t do something totally stupid and unprofessional like reaching over and burying his hands in the silky strands of her hair while he sampled the feel of her mouth and the taste of her tongue against his.
    And to compound matters, even though it would beunprofessional and even though he knew better than to get involved with someone like her—look where it had gotten his father and then him in college—he had a dangerous instinct based on the way she’d looked at him earlier that she was attracted to him as well.
    “How’d you get started making ambient videos?” He threw the question out in desperation. And actually, he was curious. It was an unusual choice of profession.
    “It’s sort of embarrassing to admit but I kind of just fell into it. I’d always liked to fool around with cameras and photography and then a friend of a friend told me about this job on the internet and voila. I discovered I’m good at it and it’s very gratifying to be able to bring faraway places to people they wouldn’t have access to otherwise. Most people don’t have the luxury of starting their day with a beach-front sunrise but with my videos they can enjoy that every morning.” She slanted him a look. “In a way, it’s similar to what you do. As a guide you take people places and give them an experience they wouldn’t have otherwise. How’d you wind up in the guide business?”
    “I realized as a kid just how much I love the land. I was always out fishing or trekking. I started working as a guide in the summers when I was about ten.” He shrugged. “I knew all the best spots for fishing and hiking, and tourists were a little surprised that I was just a kid but soon word got out that Clint Sisnuket knew his stuff.”
    “And I bet they thought you were cute.” The minute the words left her mouth a blush crawled across her skin.
    “I’ve posed for plenty of pictures over the years. And yeah, there was that whole little native boy aspect. That really worked best here, though. Cute little native boy doesn’t always translate well in other places.” Chiefly his grandparents’ home. They hadn’t cared to cart out the child who was clearly not like them.
    “Do you still pose for pictures now?”
    He laughed. “Not so much now. My cute phase ended several years ago.”
    “Well, maybe that’s a matter of perspective,” she said with a teasing smile.
    God help him, she was not making resisting her easy. “I got my degree in land management and I freelance as a native consultant on land use.” He was damn proud of that. It was a very coveted position and he tried to fill it wisely. “It pays the bills and I