Fiona’s Mates

Fiona whirled, her right hand pressed to her racing heart. She stared up and up again. The man standing in front of her was freakin’ huge.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I overheard your conversation. The man is right. If you want to fly to Churchill, you’ll have to take the train back to Winnipeg.”

“I’ve spent the last thirty hours on the train…” And every instinct cried that going back to Winnipeg was a bad idea. Her mother had always told her she possessed excellent intuition, although she’d failed with Robert. She’d met him not long after her mother’s passing. The man had caught her at a vulnerable moment…

“I have an alternative for you if you’re interested.” He offered her a shy smile, and her toes curled. Actually curled, which was weird. She smiled in return—a genuine grin instead of the fake one she’d flashed with the ticket officer. Her breath caught, and a spear of desire streaked through her body to land at her pussy.

How strange.

She’d never taken such an instant liking to a man. After her experience with Robert, she’d expect instinctive wariness, especially given this man’s size.

She blinked, the action breaking her spell of desire. No, let’s be honest. It was plain lust. Her mental sign posts had directed her straight to Wanton Town. Her mind sharpened as she tucked notions of sex far, far away. Now, where was she?

Ah, Churchill.

She’d planned her first adventure—visiting Churchill to view polar bears.

“What sort of alternative?” she asked.

“My brother and I are driving along the ice track. We’re leaving as soon as we load our freight. I’d better warn you though. It won’t be luxurious, but my brother and I are fantastic company. I promise that. We’re trustworthy. No danger of seduction. We’re on a timeline and need to get to Churchill as soon as possible.” His grin edged into sly with maybe a hint of regret.

Fiona studied him. One thing marriage to Robert had taught her was to read body language—a necessary skill if she’d wanted to escape his beratement. It had worked sometimes. “How long would the trip take?”

“It’s two hundred and seventy-five kilometers through the wilderness. The trip will take about twenty to thirty hours, depending on the conditions. We’ll take turns driving and keep going throughout the night.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Come and meet my brother. Check out our vehicle before you make your decision. The train doesn’t leave again for four hours.”

“Is that right?” she asked the railroad employee.

“Yes, Miss.”

Fiona nodded, intrigued by the offer. An adventure. That was the plan.

But driving off with two strange men. That poked fun at sensible.

“I’m Kirk Swenson,” the man said, offering his hand.

“Fiona McDonald,” she replied as his big hand engulfed hers. The man stood much taller than Robert and made her feel dainty. Her gaze fluttered down to his feet and back to his face. He was large all over. A whoosh of heat struck her cheeks as she realized she’d been staring at his groin for a tad too long.

“Would you like to meet Runt?”

“Runt?”

“My youngest brother Stig. He’s the smallest and the youngest of my brothers, so we call him Runt.”

He still held her hand, and aware of the railroad employee’s amusement, she tugged it free. “Yes, all right.”
Kirk nodded and ushered her outside after opening the door for her.

Manners. She appreciated that in a man.

He used subtle pressure in the small of her back to guide her across the street while protecting her from hazards—one truck and a school bus and the splash they created as the vehicles lumbered through a giant water-filled pothole.

“Hey, Runt,” Kirk called.

Fiona had expected a small man, but the blue-eyed blond that turned to face her had several inches on her. She’d put him at six foot, give or take an inch. His hair was much darker than his brother’s—a dark blond and he wore it cropped short.

“Fiona, this is my baby brother, Runt,” Kirk said.

He held out his hand. “Stig,” he said in a deep voice. “My name is Stig.”

“I’m pleased to meet you.” A frisson of heat shot up her arm at his touch. Oh my.

“Fiona wants to get to Churchill, but she didn’t realize the train only came to Gillam,” Kirk said. “I offered her a ride.”

The two brothers exchanged a glance—a private one but not smarmy enough to arouse her unease.

“Why is it so important to get to Churchill?” Stig asked.

“I’m going to see polar bears.”

Both men blinked. They exchanged a quick grin.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her suspicions raised.