Wild Men of Alaska 04 - Wild Men of Alaska - Four Book Bundle

doll. Blood saturated her pant leg in the back of her upper thigh.
    “Well, guess I get to play hero after all.” Lynx swung her up into his arms, against his bare chest, before she could utter an objection. The woman weighed no more than one of his nephew’s sled dogs. He probably shouldn’t mention that. Her being city folk and all, chances were she wouldn’t take nicely to being compared to a dog.
    “Where are you taking me?”
    “My house. It’s not far.”
    She tightened her lips. Very nice lips. He’d noticed them before, but he hadn’t been this close. Now he wanted to get closer. A whole lot closer.
    “Quit looking at me that way and watch where you’re walking. I don’t need to fall again. My backside is already going to be black and blue.”
    He could rub something on her skin to help with the bruising.
    “Don’t even say it.”
    He had a feeling if he said anything right now it would be wrong. His mother would classify Eva as one of those high-maintenance types. But that was okay. He was as patient as the days were currently long.
    Lynx walked out of the trees and into his backyard, up the stairs to his deck and into the log cabin he’d built himself.
    “You live here?” Eva asked when he positioned her next to the kitchen bar so she’d have something to help hold her up. “I was this close to civilization? I thought I was lost.”
    “Technically, if you don’t know your surroundings it doesn’t matter how close to town you are, the minute you step into the trees you’re lost.” He regarded her pixie-blond haircut, bird-like bones, and shortness of stature. “You shouldn’t go anywhere into the forest without someone with you.” An eagle could pick her off and feed her to its young.
    Something must have shown in his expression. “I’m not a child.”
    He buttoned up his lips and didn’t point out her attempt to outrun a fifteen-hundred pound moose and her non-existent tree climbing skills. Instead, he looked at the tear in her jeans. “That’s a pretty bad cut.”
    She twisted to get a better look, but the area was high on her left leg right under that sweet little ass of hers. “Damn it, I can’t see.”
    “Quit twisting like that. People aren’t meant to bend that way.” If she was that flexible—
    He’d been too long without a woman .
    “I need to get these jeans off in order to assess the situation,” she said.
    If she took those jeans off, they’d have a situation all right.
    “Are you just going to stand there?” she asked, glaring up at him. “Or help me?”
    “Uh...we should get you to the clinic.”
    “I am the clinic.”
    Well, she had him there.
    “You’ll have to help fix me up.” She glanced around his kitchen. “I need a first aid kit, scissors, rubbing alcohol, clean towels, and a mirror.” She reached for the button on her jeans and freed it.
    His mouth dropped open as she began a slow striptease out of her jeans, being careful as she peeled the material from the wound.
    “Get a move on,” she scolded. “I don’t want to bleed all over your kitchen.”
    Her tone, more than her words, snapped him out of his salacious, sexual fantasy.
    “Right.” He turned and exited the room, mentally slapping himself. Get a grip. She’s hurt, not looking for a hook-up.
    He returned to find her without her pants in the cutest, littlest pink panties he could remember seeing. He swallowed hard as the blood in his brain flowed south.
    “There you are.” She gestured toward the heavy toolbox he’d set on the counter. “This is a first aid kit?”
    He unclipped the latches and opened it up. “Yep, everything you could possibly need is in here.” He didn’t know how he spoke seeing all that creamy skin on display in his kitchen. All he needed to do was lift her up on that counter, and she’d be the perfect height for him to—
    “What do you use this for?” She held up a tranquillizer dart.
    “In case I need to put you down.” She didn’t laugh at his joke. The wrinkling of her forehead increased. “I’m the law enforcement officer for the Refuge,” he explained further before she thought he was a loon.
    “Huh.” She looked him up and down with what he hoped was renewed interest, her eyes taking their time traveling over his exposed chest. Guess, he should put a shirt on, but he might as well enjoy her examination. Packing on these muscles hadn’t come easy, and they didn’t come from a gym.
    “Where’s the mirror?” she asked,