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Long, flowing, inky black hair cascaded free. Alex couldn’t take her eyes off it; the flow was like a river of ebony. So when the new arrival spoke, she started in surprise and yanked her gaze to the face.
Yep, it was a man all right.
“Ataniq,” he began. “There is trouble in the village.”
Alex wanted to glance at Barlow, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the stranger. He was beautiful.
Obviously one of the original locals—were they still called Eskimos? She didn’t think so, but what they were called she hadn’t a clue—his skin was smooth and dark, that hair belonged on a supermodel, but his eyes—oh brother, those eyes.
They were Barlow’s eyes.
She turned to him with a lifted brow, but he was already throwing his leg over the snowmobile.
“But—” Alex began, and Barlow’s gaze flicked up. From his expression, he’d forgotten she was there.
He cursed, glancing at the sky as if asking for deliverance. What had she done?
Besides killing his wife?
For the first time Alex felt a hint of shame, but she thrust it resolutely away. She’d been a hunter, Alana the hunted. Alex had only done what she’d been told to do.
And, hey, wasn’t that the excuse used at the Nuremberg trials?
Barlow beckoned, and her lips tightened mulishly. The young man’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. She was getting really sick of everyone bowing and scraping to the wolf-god, then giving her grief when she wouldn’t.
He pointed to the back of the snowmobile, then flicked his finger at the young man, who attempted to hand her his helmet so fast he dropped it. Alex snatched it out of the air and tried to give it back, but he merely held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and refused to take the thing.
Though the motor rumbled loudly, Alex knew Barlow, with his supersonic ears, would have no trouble hearing her. “Where are you going?”
He jerked his head at the youth. “George said there’s trouble in the village.”
“I thought this was the village.”
“Didn’t you see the other one when we ran past last night?”
Alex remembered the twinkling lights—first up ahead, then to the side as they skirted around it—the village that was more like a town.
“What business is it of yours if another village has trouble?”
Impatience crossed his face. “I don’t have time to explain.” He glanced around as if looking for someone to take her off his hands, then sighed and glanced back. “You’d better come along.”
He shifted forward, making room for her as if her agreement was a given. Though she’d like to say no just to spite him, she had always wanted to ride on a snowmobile.
Alex wound Ella’s scarf around her neck, tying it tightly in place so it wouldn’t fly off; then she slipped the helmet quickly onto her head. Just the few seconds of exposure to the wind made her ears feel brittle enough to fall off. Although why she was worried, she had no idea. She’d just grow another set.
And she’d kind of like to see that—with someone else’s ears.
The instant she was settled, Barlow took off, and Alex would have flipped backward and landed on her head if he hadn’t grabbed her hand and pulled it around his waist.
His stomach muscles flexed, and she had to clench her fingers to keep from stroking them. Unfortunately, a clenched hand did not hold on very well, especially when they hit a rut.
The machine flew up, came down hard. Alex narrowly missed biting her tongue. She grabbed onto Julian’s belt, her thumb sliding beneath his jeans and scraping skin. He straightened so fast his shoulder clocked her in the jaw. If she hadn’t been wearing the helmet, she would have seen stars.
He reached for her other arm, yanked it forward with no small amount of force. “Use two hands!” he shouted.
His hair blew past her face, long and light, and when the sun hit the strands they turned every shade of gold. Even though the helmet had a visor, she could still smell him—that intoxicating scent of ice and snow and trees.
She should probably pull her thumb out of his pants, but he was so warm. She was tempted to slide the rest of her chilled appendage in to join it. And the allure of that thought made her yank the hand right out.
