Alaskan Sanctuary. Teri Wilson

on.” She beckoned to him, as if he’d been waiting his whole life to follow her into a wolf den.

      “Right.” He rolled his eyes. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

      By all appearances, she was. She stood staring at him, holding the first of two metal barred gates open. Waiting.

      “I don’t think so,” he said grimly, and turned to leave, to go back to his cubicle in the newsroom where he couldn’t feel the kiss of snow on his face or smell the perfume of alder wood and forest that had once clung to his skin, his hair and every piece of clothing he’d ever worn. Back to a place where he wouldn’t be forced to remember things best left forgotten.

      “Suit yourself,” she called out from behind him.

      He heard the gate clang closed. Good, she’d come to her senses and was back on this side of the fence, where any reasonable person belonged.

      He kept walking. He’d already been here too long. Where had the day gone? He’d unwittingly spent more than three hours listening to Piper wax poetic about her wolves. How on earth had he let that happen?

      Without turning around, he held up his hand in a parting wave. “Goodbye, Ms. Quinn.”

      “I asked you to call me Piper, remember?” She sounded farther away than she should have.

      Then Ethan heard the jingle of keys.

      Gut clenching, he turned around. Sure enough, she was unlocking the second gate, about to step right inside the enclosure. With the wolf. “What do you think you’re doing?”

      “I told you.” She shrugged. “I’m going inside.”

      “No, you’re not.” Ethan had no intention of watching her walk in there by herself. Alone. Behind two locked gates where he couldn’t get to her if something went wrong.

      Leave it. She’s a grown woman.

      Clearly she’d done this before, and she’d lived to tell about it. But wolves weren’t pets. They weren’t dogs, cats or harmless little hamsters. They were wild animals. Wild is wild. She’d said so herself.

      “I know what I’m doing, Mr. Hale. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” An unspoken challenge glimmered in her eyes. Eyes the color of glaciers in springtime.

      Afraid? What did she think he was afraid of? Death?

      Death would have been easy. Survival, on the other hand, had been far more difficult. Even now, five years later, he still wished it had been him. It should have been him.

      He crossed his arms. “Do I look scared?”

      The only thing he was afraid of was watching her put her life on the line. He’d seen this sort of thing go badly before. Once. And once had been more than enough.

      “Actually, no. You look angry.” She turned the key. Even from where he stood, Ethan could hear the padlock release. “You know, the company of an animal is scientifically proven to lower blood pressure.”

      “I highly doubt that applies to wild animals. Kittens, yes. Wolves, not so much.” Nor pretty blonde animal rescuers. In fact, right now, it was a toss-up as to which one of them was a bigger pain in his neck—the wolf or Piper.

      “You’ll never know unless you give it a try.” She glanced at the dark wolf standing just on the other side of the unlocked gate.

      Ethan stared at Koko.

      The wolf looked back at him with the same cool detachment Ethan had seen in the eyes of other wild animals. Wolves. Mountain lions. Bears. One bear in particular.

      Bile rose to the back of Ethan’s throat.

      “I’m going in. It’s now or never.” Piper raised an expectant brow.

      As much as Ethan wanted to leave, to climb in his car and head back down the mountain, he couldn’t. Not if it meant leaving her locked in a pen with a wolf.

      “Fine.” He stomped back toward the enclosure.

      Piper beamed at him, entirely too pleased with herself. Ethan just shook his head and tried to slow the adrenaline pumping through his system. Every nerve in his body was on high alert, prepared to deal with the worst.

      She locked the first gate behind him, and suddenly it was just the two of them in the small fenced-in space between the double entrances. She stood close enough for him to see tiny flecks of green in her blue eyes. Nature looking back at him. Her hair whipped in the wind, a halo of spun gold.

      Ethan nearly forgot about the wolf standing behind her.

      “There are a few rules before we go inside.” Her voice went soft, as if she felt it, too—the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

      The wolf moved behind her, a shifting shadow in the violet Alaskan light, catching Ethan’s eye. “I’d imagine there are.”

      “When we walk inside, just ignore him. Let Koko come to you on his own terms.”

      In other words, don’t go chasing the wolf. “Got it.”

      “He may get up on his hind legs and put his front paws on your shoulder. This means he’s curious, not aggressive. Whatever you do, don’t push him away.”

      Ethan didn’t have a problem with this particular rule, either. If the wolf wanted to slow dance with him, so be it. At least it meant he would be the only one in harm’s way. Not her.

      “And he will definitely lick your mouth.”

      Ethan rolled his eyes. “Oh, joy.”

      “It’s how wolves greet each other. Just keep your mouth closed, and you’ll be fine. Don’t turn your face away under any circumstances.”

      Now the rules were getting a little strange. “You’re telling me to stand there and let a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound wolf kiss me on the mouth?”

      “One hundred and forty,” she corrected.

      “Even better.”

      She ignored his sarcasm. “And yes, let him lick your face. It’s customary wolf behavior. Koko’s an alpha. If you turn away, he’ll be highly offended.”

      And would that really be such a tragedy? “Got it.”

      “Good.” She shot him a dazzling smile. “Then we’re ready.”

      She turned around to slide the padlock off the interior gate. Without even realizing what he was doing, Ethan reached for her elbow. His touch said what his lips wouldn’t.

      Don’t.

      Stay here. With me.

      But she didn’t notice. The moment his fingertips brushed the rich red fabric of her parka, she moved out of his reach. The look on Piper’s face—the rosy cheeks, the slight parting of her lips, the breathless anticipation—it wasn’t about him. It was about the wild animal waiting on the other side of the fence.

      He’d mistaken the moment for something it wasn’t. Which was fine, really. He had nothing to offer anyone. Not anymore. Not even the first woman to capture his attention in as long as he could remember.

      Anyway, attention and attraction weren’t one and the same. Sure, he found Piper Quinn interesting. Who wouldn’t? He also found her headstrong and impetuous. He knew her type. She was a crusader.

      So was he, and the two of them happened to be on opposite sides of the crusade.

      Fine. This whole ordeal would be over within a matter of minutes. Once he’d seen her walk safely back to her little log cabin, he could drive away, write his article and forget he’d ever set foot in her wolf sanctuary.

      “Hey there, Koko.” She spoke in matter-of-fact tones to the wolf, as if the two of them were old friends.

      Koko gave her a cursory glance and then trotted straight for Ethan.