Footsteps thumped, and then a man appeared around the corner at the end of a short hallway.
Although,manwas hardly a fitting description.Giantwas more appropriate. Because he was massive, his shoulders so wide they nearly brushed either side of the hallway. He had to be well over six-and-a-half feet tall, but his height wasn’t his only striking feature.
His wavy, salt-and-pepper hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d just run his fingers through it. A closely trimmed beard that was more silver than black covered his square jaw.
But it was his eyes that made me catch my breath. His irises were a light gray, the color almost metallic in the sunlight streaming through the sitting room’s windows. They flicked overme now, taking in my ponytail and backpack, before crinkling at the corners in a warm smile.
“Welcome to Bear Cove,” the giant rumbled, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “I’m Beck Antonovich. You must be Charlotte Mills. I got your reservation email last night.”
For a moment, language deserted me. Abruptly, I realized he stood with his hand extended, and I was staring at him like an idiot with my mouth hanging open.
“Yes,” I said, taking his hand. A jolt of electricity pricked my skin, startling a yelp from me.
Beck released me at once. He stepped back, and a furrow formed between his brows. “Sorry. Static builds up in the winter.”
“That’s all right,” I said, my fingers tingling. At five-foot-eight, I was hardly small, but I felt downright delicate next to him. The registration confirmation had been generic, with no mention of Beck’s name. Then again, in a place as small as Bear Cove, he probably wasn’t worried about me mixing him up with someone else. Not that I could. Beck Antonovich would stand out in any crowd.
He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “We don’t get many guests this time of year. Your email said you’ll be here for two weeks?”
“Possibly longer. And I apologize for the late booking. University grants are hard to come by, and I didn’t receive funding until the last minute.”
The lie settled like a weight in my chest. Grantswerehard to come by, but my research had been funded for months. No, I’d held off booking the bed and breakfast on Dr. Henry’s advice. He was experienced when it came to dealing with isolated communities hostile to outsiders. As he always said,“It’s harder for them to say no when you’re standing on their doorstep.”
I had to hope Beck Antonovich was a “yes man.”
The fire popped, and I yelped again. God, why was I so jumpy? Heat bloomed in my cheeks as a spicy, masculine scent wafted around me.His cologne.
Something flickered in Beck’s eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say you might stay longer than two weeks?”
“If that’s okay,” I said, resisting the urge to point out the empty parking lot and obvious lack of guests. “I’m here to conduct research. Experiments don’t always go according to plan, so I might end up staying a bit longer.”
Beck ran his silver eyes over my backpack again. “You’re a researcher,” he said slowly.
There it was. The subtle note of skepticism. The unspokenwho do you think you are, little lady?I’d heard it enough times over the years to know condescension and dismissal were likely to follow. People—usually men—saw my age and decided I wasn’t worth taking seriously.
I squared my shoulders. “I’m a PhD candidate at Colorado State University, where I work full-time as a conservation biologist. Bear Cove appears to be dead center in a faunal exclusion zone that extends for at least ten miles. Alaska’s wildlife is precious. Protecting their habitats is part of my job.” Slinging my backpack around to my front, I pulled my university ID badge from the front pocket and held it out. “I know I appear young, but I assure you, Mr. Antonovich, my credentials are legitimate. If you have any questions, my doctoral advisor, Dr. Rupert Henry, will be more than happy to speak to you about my research project.”
Beck’s gaze drifted to the badge before returning to my face. The furrow remained between his brows. Then his features smoothed, and a hint of humor entered his eyes. “That all sounds very impressive, Ms. Mills, but I’m afraid it’s lost on me. I wasn’t the best student, and I barely scraped by with a high school diploma.” His smile grew, the crinkles at the corners ofhis eyes fanning wider. “There’s no need for me to speak to Dr. Henry. I’ll take your word for it.”
The tingling in my hand spread up my arm. The fire crackled again, but the noise rolled right over me, Beck’s scent mingling with the cinnamon in the air.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he said. “I assume you brought luggage?”
Somehow, I got my mouth working. “Um, yes. In my car.”
Duh, Charlotte. Where else would it be?
He nodded. “I’ll bring it up.”
“Oh, you don’t have to?—”
“I insist. This is an old building, and the stairs are narrow.” He turned. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
“Thank you,” I managed, following. He led me down a short hallway to a set of stairs every bit as narrow as he promised. But the rest of the bed and breakfast was just as cozy and charming as the foyer, with dark wood, plush Victorian rugs, and vintage-looking prints of trees and animals in gilt frames.
“This is the best room,” Beck said, opening the door to a spacious suite. “It’s quiet, too. You’ll have the whole second floor to yourself.” He pointed toward a closed door. “And it has its own bath.”
“It’s lovely,” I said, taking in the double bed with its tasteful quilt and mounds of pillows. A reading nook spread underneath a bay window, upholstered chairs set at angles between a leather ottoman. A desk in the corner offered an inviting place to work at the end of a day in the field.
