Beck went to a floor lamp in the reading nook and turned it on. He returned to the center of the room, light from the window streaming over his thick shoulders. His jeans hugged a trim waist and muscular thighs. He had to be pushing fifty, but he was clearly in excellent shape. He looked like he’dsinglehandedly built the bed and breakfast with nothing more than a saw and hammer.
“…but the kitchen is open whenever you need it. Just help yourself.”
I jerked my eyes from Beck’s chest. Oh god, I’d been staring. And nowhestared, clearly expecting a response.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice strangely breathless in my ears. “I didn’t catch that.”
He blinked, his long lashes the same black shade as the darker strands in his hair. “I’ll have breakfast for you every morning at seven. Unless that doesn’t work?”
I swallowed. “I plan on starting work pretty early each day. And I don’t want to put you out. I’m perfectly fine with a muffin or banana.”
He dipped his head. “I can do muffins and bananas.” He moved to the door, then turned at the threshold, one big hand braced on the frame. “I’m sure you’re tired from the trip. I’ll leave your luggage outside the door, and I’ll bring up some dinner in a bit. All right?”
“That sounds perfect.”
He gave another nod, patted the frame once, then left.
For a long moment, I just stared at the door. Then I released a slow, uneven breath. Beck’s scent lingered in the air, that spicy, masculine essence overlapping with whatever he was baking downstairs.
God, did he actuallybake? And why was that so hot? Wait. It didn’t matter how attractive he was. I was in Bear Cove towork, not ogle the innkeeper.
Giving my head a hard shake, I went to the window. It overlooked the main street—well, theonlystreet—which was deserted. No one came in or out of the few shops. No one moved down the sidewalks. Online reports said the town’s search and rescue crews stayed busy during skiing season,with injured people getting airlifted to Anchorage. Other than that, my internet searches had raised more questions than they answered.
Where was Bear Cove’s animal population? Was the area plagued by an unknown predator? Was human behavior interfering with natural habitats? When satellite imagery had turned up vast swaths of blurry images, my academic department had contacted local researchers, who installed monitoring equipment in the forest.
The readings were troubling…and often nonsensical. Ecological dead zones usually happened in nautical areas, where pollution or a lack of nutrients meant water could no longer sustain life. Bear Cove wasn’t near an ocean, but it showed the same kinds of signatures as a dead zone. Even the insect population seemed suppressed.
Somethinghad to be causing it. So, what was it? An unauthorized mining operation? Industry runoff? Neither seemed plausible. Bear Cove was isolated, yes, but satellite imaging should have revealed the presence of heavy machinery or disturbances in the mountains.
Questions spun in my mind. Tomorrow, I’d head into the forest and set up instruments. Dr. Henry had seen to it that I was well-supplied. I had everything I needed to collect water and soil samples. If I could figure out what was behind the anomaly, my research might help other scientists. It could also land me a permanent job and the worddoctorin front of my name.
Footsteps outside my door made me look over my shoulder. A softthumpdrifted through the wood, followed by retreating steps. I waited for them to fade, then crossed the room and opened the door. My luggage—all of it—sat outside, my suitcase and equipment stacked neatly.
Beck had carried over a hundred pounds of scientific instruments upstairs in one trip.
The creak of floorboards echoed from somewhere downstairs. Did he live in the bed and breakfast? He must. The place was obviously more than a business. It was his home.
And now I was staying with him. Alone.
No matter.He was polite and kind. Probably twenty years my senior.
So why were my fingers still tingling? Looking down, I flexed them, willing away the strange sensation.
It was the weather. Nothing more. I wasn’t used to the Alaskan chill, and I’d been traveling all day. A hot shower, a good meal, and bed would do me good. Then I could start fresh in the morning.
But as I carried equipment into my room, the spicy scent lingered in my lungs. In the bathroom, I unpacked my toiletries and lined them up on the porcelain sink. An amber-colored bottle caught my eye, Dr. Henry’s neat handwriting gleaming against the white label. Not a prescription, but he’d handed them to me after the third time I nodded off during office hours.
Six months now. Without the pills, I’d lie awake for hours, my mind racing. With them, I’d fall asleep easily enough, but the nightmares would come, the fractured images slipping away when I woke.
Still better than staring at the ceiling until dawn.
I shook out a pill and swallowed it dry, then finished unpacking. Tomorrow, I’d start my research. I’d come to Bear Cove to prove myself.
And that was exactly what I was going to do.
Chapter
Two
