Claimed in Canada Read online

  Claimed in Canada

  by

  Christine Edwards

  Fanny Press

  PO Box 70515

  Seattle, WA 98127

  For more information go to: www.fannypress.com

  edwards.fannypress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Please be advised that this is a dark, erotic romance. It is intended for adults only. There are elements of BDSM. including dominance, spanking, bondage, branding, piercing, and anal play. There is also a scene of extreme violence (not involving the hero). If these things offend you, please do not read any further. Thank you.

  Cover design by Sabrina Sun

  Claimed in Canada

  Copyright © 2013 by Christine Edwards

  ISBN: 978-1-60381-537-6 (Trade Paper)

  ISBN: 978-1-60381-536-9 (eBook)

  Produced in the United States of America

  * * * *

  To R.M.E.

  May we once again

  explore Canada

  * * * *

  Prologue

  Adrenaline

  We have to get back to the lodge! I hear a voice scream in my head as frigid wind and snow whip across my numb cheeks. My survival instincts kick into overdrive as I crank the snowmobile faster. We must get moving or we will be buried by the impending storm front that’s closing in on us like a freight train.

  Come on, we need to get these snowmobiles moving faster.

  Our research site is only five miles out from Haines Junction and we should be back within thirty minutes if we can just keep the Arctic Cats steady, assuming we aren’t overpowered by the storm first. Without warning my engine begins to stutter step on me. My throttle gives up power. Oh God no, not the gas. I glance at the gauge, which still reads over half full. Through the snowy haze, I’m able to see black smoke drifting from the engine.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I call out through the cold air as the Cat comes to a halt on the fresh snow.

  Through the torrent of wind and falling flakes I see Gabe turning his Cat around and heading back toward me. He shouts over the rumble of his sled, echoed by the storm, “What’s wrong with your Cat, Violet?”

  Trying to muster fortitude, I tell my partner, “Go back to the lodge fast and get help. I’ll follow behind you on foot. There’s no time to waste, now go!”

  With a concerned look he yells to me over his motor, “Wait, let’s try to get you onto mine.”

  I considered his small one-seater before shaking my head and shouting, “Gabe, there’s little time; this front is already raging around us. The sleds are only intended for one and we’ll wreck if we try to double up. I know you used to race these things. Now go and bring back help as quickly as you can.”

  He gives a determined nod before turning his Cat around. He revs the engine and blazes away, disappearing within moments into the harsh front. Born and raised in Minnesota, Gabe has been riding snowmobiles since he was a boy and if anyone can get back in time, it’s him. Close to tears, I slide off my bike and realize that my only option besides waiting for Gabe is to start jogging toward Haines Junction. I grab the supply pack off my sled and settle the added weight onto my shoulder. It’s nearly dusk and I’ll have to hurry down the wooded trail.

  How could this have happened? We always check the weather hourly and we had high-tailed it out of there as soon as we heard that this freak front was popping up. The big storm they were all talking about in town was not supposed to hit for another day.

  That’s when I hear the first howl. So strong and confident that it makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. No, no! They’ve spotted me as solo prey and I know it’s just a matter of time before they take me down.

  Completely jacked on adrenaline I sprint for all I’m worth down the dim path ahead. I fumble in my pocket for my Taser gun. It’s charged up but will only buy me a little time, not enough for survival. There are too many wolves in a pack.

  The howls are coming one after another now and I can’t get a read on their direction, but I know they’re closing in on me.

  From my six years of research I know what they are, without a doubt.

  Running furiously through the fresh snow I try to think clearly and formulate a plan. What will I do if they attack? Will a Taser be enough? My heart is pounding out of my chest and I feel lightheaded.

  Keep it together girl!

  I hear a low growl off to my right coming from the snowy bank on the edge of the trail. As I whip around to face the noise, I strain to see where the wolf is positioned. I realize that it’s close and can make out its darkened form. I stop to hold my ground and get the charge going on my weapon. My arms are trembling as I will myself to focus. There won’t be a second chance in this scenario.

  This is it, do or die time.

  I begin to stumble backwards, instinctively distancing myself from the danger. Then I lose my footing in the soft snow. Panicking, I realize too late that I’ve backed myself off the path and down the embankment.

  Thank God I’m still clutching the Taser. I aim straight out so I can let loose on anything that comes near me. As the howls start closing in I suddenly hear a close, cracking shot and then another followed by a deep male voice.

  “Goddammit Violet! Where are you? Violet? Fuck!”

  I strain to make my voice work. “Here! I’m over here! Please help me!”

  Oh my God, is that Luke?

  “Here! Right here!” I begin scrambling back up the few feet of the snowy bank toward his voice.

  I yell to him, “Watch out, there are …” Before I can finish something jumps me from behind, knocking me to the ground. I feel a hard smack on the side of my head and begin to fade out. While struggling to hold on I hear only a mixture of angry growls and a low male voice.

  “Don’t move Violet, don’t fucking move…”

  Then everything fades into blackness.

  Chapter One

  Wild Animals

  Yukon Territory, Canada

  Two Days Earlier

  Wolves are mysterious creatures. They’re completely capable of independence but seek out the stability and security of the pack. For some reason, this phenomenon has always fascinated me. I’ve been studying them for the past six years. This is my first team mission into the wilderness of northern Canada to gather data. Our grant was approved by The University of Washington a month ago and I’m hopeful that our research will not disappoint.

  So far we’ve hung fifteen cameras with motion sensors in the region where they have been seen by local outdoorsmen. Our hope is to gain new insight into the pack dynamic of wild wolves, while our end goal is to bring further awareness to the public about the dangers that the modern wolf faces with the hope that a serious conservation effort will follow.

  Disappearing forestlands are not the only adversary that the wolf population is currently facing. Diseases such as canine distemper cull the wolves’ numbers starting from the time they are mere pups. Ideally our group would like to start a safe vaccination program to give them a better chance at survival. Also, we would eventually like to set up a program to track and assist adults that have been severely injured while fighting, either among themselves or with larger animals such as elk. In addition to disease, hunters have always posed a significant threat to wolves, despite the fact that national parks such as Kluane strictly forbid the killing of protected animals.
The protected status of the wolves doesn’t stop the hunters but heavy fines coupled with a possible lifetime firearms ban and even jail time have certainly made some of them think twice.

  The dense forest around our research site seems so tranquil in the daylight. That tranquility is deceiving. We wouldn’t stand a chance at night out here. If the cold didn’t do us in then the wild animals surely would. Unlike humans, they don’t rationalize or play nice.

  The Yukon Territory is made up of mostly dense forests that seem to go on forever. The owners of the lodge where we are staying for the next three months have warned us repeatedly to use extreme caution while working. However I’m confident that our GPS devices and Taser guns will keep us safe if we run into any unexpected trouble. We came to the group decision that Taser guns would suit our purposes better than loaded firearms, which could so easily lead to deadly accidents. We don’t want to cause permanent damage to either ourselves or the animals we are trying to protect.

  It’s already freezing in late October and I’m dressed in ski gear—a gray down parka with a fur trimmed hood and cherry red snowboarding pants. Sorel boots also work wonders in this unforgiving terrain, keeping my toes warm despite the dense snow.

  The third major snowstorm of the season is reported to be due in the next day or so, and with the temperature hovering around twenty degrees, it feels like winter has set in for the long haul. There’s already a healthy amount of snow on the ground, but we’re still able to work effectively.

  I grumble to myself about having to repeatedly remove my gloves to run the camera wires but I want to assist in getting the last of everything set up before the daylight starts to fade out on us. Once we have everything in place we can monitor most of our work from the laptops back at the Lodge. We will still have to tend to the equipment on a regular basis but it won’t be the grueling schedule that we’ve kept to this past week.

  I glance at Gabe, my fantastic partner, working on a camera to test its angle. Four of us have traveled here from Washington and we cover more ground working in two person teams. Two of us man the equipment while the other two monitor our progress from the lodge, letting us know when a particular camera angle needs to be changed or that a certain camera feed isn’t showing up on the computer. We switch off to keep everything balanced and come together if all four of us are needed on a job. All of us are athletic and share a passionate love of animals and nature. We work well as a team.

  Gabe and I have worked together in the past on small projects back at the University. I appreciate his attention to detail and uncanny knowledge of electronics. Gabe’s heritage is Swedish, as is obvious from his white blond hair and pale eyes. Although both men and women stop and stare whenever we are out in public, he is so laid back that he seems oblivious to the attention. Or maybe he is just used to being ogled.

  A loud shout jerks out of my thoughts.

  A commanding French-tinged accent yells, “Hawk! Back that truck up about ten more feet. Right on, that’s it.”

  What?

  We have been coming out here for a week now and haven’t seen or heard signs of anyone. All we needed right now is a bunch of arrogant hicks coming in and disturbing our work site. Their noise alone would surely drive off a pack of wolves.

  Gabe glances around curiously and asks, “What do you think, hunters?”

  “Possibly, but I’m not sure, they are quite loud for hunters. Whoever they are, they’re too close. We’ve worked too hard this week to have our site disrupted or tainted by accident. We have some crucial buried cables here and cameras that would be too costly to replace should someone happen to disrupt them I’m going over there right now to ask them to move on.”

  “Easy there, tiger. You sure that you want to venture over there solo?”

  I nod with certainty. “They can’t be more than two hundred yards away. You keep working on number four. All our cameras should be live tonight.”

  “I’m just a shout away should you need me, okay?”

  I grin at my research partner, whose smoldering looks would have me weak at the knees if it weren’t for the fact that he was gay, a fact I mourned especially hard now that we were spending so much time alone together in the woods. “Think I can handle a few wily outdoorsmen. No worries, I’ll be back in a few.”

  I make a path toward the loud noises coming from a dense area of nearby trees.

  I’m surprised when I see a group of large men who are obviously not hunters. I immediately spy the first one straddling a tall tree. He is wearing a yellow hard hat and a sling-like harness on top of his faded jeans. Spikes are attached to his weathered boots.

  Another man is behind the controls of a yellow Caterpillar cable skidder that’s low slung and has giant tires to help the vehicle pull logs out of the rough terrain. The only man on the ground has his massive back to me. I decide that a direct approach would work best as I’ve heard that Canadian men can be difficult and at times harsh, to say the least. I’m a bit apprehensive but proceed regardless.

  “Excuse me ...” I begin in a pleasant yet no nonsense tone. My thoughts abruptly stall out in my throat as the man whips around and rich, dark eyes immobilize me.

  My knees nearly buckle from the intensity of his beautiful gaze. My breath begins to come in fluttering pants.

  He gives me a searing head to toe perusal without even bothering to hide it. I’m standing ten feet away and I can feel his masculinity assault my senses.

  Oh God! Act calm, I tell myself. The immediate attraction to this man is shocking.

  As I give him the same once-over, the first thing I notice is that he is frighteningly massive in size. Not overblown like a bodybuilder, just naturally packed muscle sitting atop a six foot five inch frame. He appears to be in his mid-thirties, if the faint lines across is forehead are any indication. His navy blue down vest and gray flannel shirt are the epitome of ruggedness and I find myself intensely aroused by his dangerous appearance.

  He easily has to be the largest male I have ever been near in my life. I stare up in awe as I take in his face. He’s not classically handsome but his large chiseled features and strong shadowed jaw make him incredibly sexual. His hair is a glossy deep brown that is cut in a short no-nonsense style with a hint of sideburns. His nose looks as if it has been busted up a few times but this just adds to the raw masculinity that’s rolling off him.

  What’s wrong with me? I should be speaking but I’m so engrossed in this man that all of my thoughts are running together in a blur.

  Seconds tick silently by.

  He takes his time drinking me in as well when I gather my confidence and tell myself Get it together Violet, you have every right to be here!

  I open my mouth to let him have it but before I can get a word out he cocks his head to the side, locks eyes with mine and says in a low, controlled voice. “Continue.”

  My senses are on overload as I stand and stare, unnerved and confused as to why I’m eager to follow his request. I begin a bit hesitantly, not pleased that I’m nibbling on my lips out of nervousness.

  “My name is Violet London and I have permission to be on this land from the Canadian government in order to study the habitat of wolves here in the Kluane National Park.”

  Damn, why is my voice so breathy?

  No reaction. I soldier on. “Well, the loud noises that your crew and that skidder are making will certainly hinder the research site that we’ve been setting up throughout the past week. If the wolves scent you and hear all the commotion they’ll avoid coming anywhere near our motion detection cameras.” I finish with a smug chin lift, daring him to argue and quietly hoping that he will.

  The guy on the tree gives a hearty laugh and looks down at the man before me. “Well, Luke, that’s a new one because normally it’s the Greenpeace tree-huggers that plead their cause against our evil logging.”

  The built guy on the skidder bursts into laughter.

  I’m mortified.

  With a disturbingly intense gaze, this
Luke person begins to question me.

  “And what’s a sweet little girl like you doing out in these woods alone? Haven’t you heard that it can be deadly to play with wolves, woman?”

  What? How arrogant!

  He knows nothing about me and yet he thinks that he can question me like a child? Screw him!

  The two men chuckle heartily at my expense and I don’t know which is stronger, my rage or my embarrassment.

  I fire back, “Oh, and you’re an expert in the field of wild animal conservation? For your information I know exactly what I’m doing, mister, and don’t need a brute of a man like yourself berating my livelihood or calling me cutesy pet names.”

  The one in the tree chimes in, his French accent thick, “Uh-oh Luke! You set the lady off real nice now eh?” Both of them laugh hysterically.

  Ignoring the boisterous male comment, Luke levels me with a dark stare before remarking, “I bet you have no idea what you need. You best run along now before you encounter trouble of a very different sort, you understand me girl?”

  Whoa.

  What a bizarre thing to say. His brusque sexual undertones are unmistakable. I find that I’m fascinated by everything about this man, despite his strangely overbearing demeanor. Mortified by my reaction to him, I quickly resolve that there’s no way I’ll let him push me around. I’m not a little girl, no matter what he says. I stand my ground.

  “Well, Luke—” I retort in a supremely pissed off voice, but I’m abruptly cut off by more laughter from the two guys. My frustration at this ridiculous situation is beyond the boiling point.

  “Whatever!” I blurt out in anger. “Just stay the hell away from our area, which is about two hundred yards in that direction.” I stab a finger north. Then, spinning on my heel, I stride off into the trees in a huff, trying to forget that the last ten minutes ever happened.