Chapter One
I’m going to freeze to death.
Amy Sutherland stood, shivering, in a barren, windswept field. The tourists surrounding her gazed at the Aurora Borealis streaking across the night sky, heads tipped back and mouths agape. Amy had grown up in Bleak Bay, Alaska, so she didn’t appreciate the view as much as the mainlanders.
The phenomenon was caused by solar winds disrupting the magnetosphere. Every winter, the sky lit up like the Fourth of July, and the cascade of colors was breathtaking, but she’d seen the show many times.
The temperature was -36°F.
At least, Amy had dressed for the weather. Thank goodness she’d gotten over the need to be fashionable a long time ago. She wore Carhartt overalls, a thick pair of boots, woolen socks, and a fisherman’s sweater beneath a heavy jacket, along with fuzzy gloves.
Despite all the layers, she was still cold. She should be used to it, but some people didn’t tolerate such severe temperatures.
She ran the Sutherland Inn, and Amy organized local excursions for the tourists. Amy had a handful of retired couples staying at the inn, since it was the offseason. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to do during an Alaskan winter, except admire the northern lights and sit in front of the fireplace.
Amy resisted the urge to hurry them along. After they’d looked their fill, she’d promised to take the group to Mahalo Coffee down the street, to warm up.
She dreamt of a hot cup of Kona coffee laced with creamy half-and-half, and sugar. Maybe she’d have a macadamia-nut cookie or two.
“Look at the green!” A guest said, pointing to the sky. An emerald-green cloud floated above their heads. She turned to Amy with wide eyes.
I have to fake it.
“Ooh.” Amy glanced at the heavens. “Pretty.”
She studied the slope of Mount Regent. She’d never been to the top, but had always wanted to go. She’d bugged her dad for years to organize a helicopter trip to the summit, but, at five hundred bucks a person, it was cost prohibitive. Of course, she could climb it, which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Amy wasn’t outdoorsy.
And that’s when she noticed a shadowy shape on the horizon, slipping behind the mountain. It was darker than the night sky.
Whatever it was, the thing moved fast.
The shape was uneven, jagged, unlike a streamlined plane. Was it a bird of prey? No, too large. Its wings were spiky, like a bat’s. She’d never seen anything like it. Amy backed away, moving closer to the van, instinctively seeking protection.
Bizarre things happened in Alaska. And maybe she was a little paranoid lately. She stayed up most nights, worrying about the inn because it was in financial trouble.
Whatever the reason, Amy thought they should leave.
“Hey, everyone.” She waved to get their attention. “Let’s grab some coffee and dessert.” The tourists reluctantly shuffled her way, their boots crunching through the thick snow.
With one last sidelong glance at the monstrous thing on the horizon, Amy raced to the van and herded them inside.
***
Mahalo was more crowded than usual.
A Hawaiian-themed shop in such a chilly place was peculiar, but they served the best coffee in the state. She’d been coming here since it opened a few years ago.
Ivy Roberts stood behind the counter, pouring coffee for the group, while Amy tried to thaw out. She removed her gloves and tucked them into her pocket, as a welcome rush of warmth spread over her. Her glasses fogged, forcing her to remove them and wipe the lenses on her sleeve until she could see once more.
Ivy nodded to her, and Amy didn’t have to place an order. She handed Amy a cup and a cookie. Since she had a running tab at the shop, Amy didn’t have to pay at the moment, which was a good thing, since she was short on cash.
The tourists grabbed their food, and huddled by the fireplace in the corner.
“Check out the hottie.” Ivy leered at a man on the other side of the room. “He’s taller than me, and cute, huh?”
The stranger had to be at least seven feet tall. Amy was 5-foot-two, and he’d tower over her easily. She didn’t know why the thought had suddenly occurred to her.
“He’s not my type.”
Ivy smirked. “Oh honey, he’s everybody’s type. Let’s see—tall, blond, and gorgeous. Yeah, anybody would want him.”
Not me.
Ivy was Amy’s best friend. The two of them had roomed together their freshman year of college, and they’d been inseparable ever since. At the time, Ivy had been studying ballet, along with her college classes, as she tried to decide between the two. Ultimately, ballet had won.
The two friends couldn’t be more different.
While Amy was unassuming, Ivy was outrageous and opinionated. She was 5-foot-ten and thin, while Amy was short and curvy. Ivy had long, dark-brown hair which fell to her waist. Usually, she swept it into a neat bun at the back of her head, but tonight, it flowed around her shoulders like a cape.
Amy had curly auburn hair, which came to her chin. She wore a pair of black-framed glasses, which accentuated her almond-shaped, dark-brown eyes, and pale skin. Amy had a tomboyish vibe and enjoyed dressing comfortably, while Ivy loved skintight jeans and snug leather jackets.
“I’ll pass.”
“Are you sure? Hottie might be fun, and no offense, but you need some.”
They’d had this argument many times before. Ivy had been pushing Amy for months. Her exact words were “you’re still alive, act like it.” Ivy wasn’t known for her delicacy, but she wasn’t wrong. Since her father’s death, Amy had been depressed.
Hottie was good looking. He had wheat-colored, blond hair, big blue eyes, and the faintest hint of a beard on his handsome face. The stranger wore a white linen tunic, and suede pants, although they might’ve been buckskins. His steampunkish brown leather boots came to his mid-thigh, and they featured an assortment of buckles. He also wore a dagger strapped to his leg. His outfit was outlandish. He’d be equally at home in a medieval village as well as a comic book convention.
It wasn’t unusual for Alaskans to do whatever they pleased. The state had a frontier mentality, and men outnumbered women by two to one. There was an old saying, while the odds are good, the goods are odd.
As though noticing her scrutiny, Hottie glanced her way. Suddenly, Amy wished she’d applied some makeup, maybe fluffed her hair a bit. She glanced down at herself ruefully.
I look like a lumberjack.
“Um, Amy?”
“What?”
“You’re spilling coffee all over the floor, and I have to mop it up, so cut it out.”
Whoa. “Right. Sorry.” She set the cup on a nearby table.
“No problem. Why don’t you chat him up?”
“No, thanks.” Even the thought made her nervous.
A flush heated her skin. She’d been so busy ogling the man, she hadn’t been paying attention. Amy had a good head on her shoulders, and she’d never been boy crazy, not even during her teenage years, so this was new territory.
The stranger intrigued her, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. It wasn’t just his handsome face. No, he fascinated her, and Amy sensed something was off about him.
She glanced at Ivy. “Is there a Renaissance fair in town?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I can overlook the dorky threads, because he has a killer ass.” Ivy tilted her head to the side, ogling his backside when the man turned.
Amy groaned.
“Sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know something you don’t.”
“Oh?”
“Hottie needs a place to stay. I overheard him asking another customer, so I recommended the inn, and he seemed interested.”
Another paying customer! Amy desperately needed the money.
“I could kiss you.”
This time of the year was always lean. Most of the tourists couldn’t take the Arctic temperatures, so they came during the summer months. After her dad’s death, Amy had taken over the business, and wasn’t used to the ebb and flow of cash yet.
Amy should’ve been paying better attention to the books, but she’d been absorbed in her own grief for months. She recently discovered the shortfall, and nearly had a panic attack. They were in deficit spending mode until she could secure more revenue.
“How about a raise, instead?” Ivy cleared her throat. She worked at the inn, as well as Mahalo.
“I’ll think it over.”
Ivy beamed. “So who’s your best friend? That’s right, I am. Not only did I snag a new client, but as I mentioned earlier, he’s a hottie. I would call this a win-win situation.” She waggled her brows suggestively.
“I don’t sleep with guests.”
“You can make an exception for this one, because he’s smokin’. How hot is he? Way hot.”
“Stop saying ‘hot’, or I’ll smack you.” Amy gritted her teeth. “So why’s he here?”
Ivy shrugged. “I didn't get the particulars. You know I’m not a details person.” She shoved Amy in his direction. “Go find out and report back.”
But Amy didn’t have to, because Hottie was headed her way, eating up the space between them with long strides.
Her stomach twisted into a big knot.
“May I have a moment of your time?” Hottie asked, as he joined the conversation.
“Yes, you may,” Ivy said, slapping Amy on the shoulder. “Oh look, there’s a counter in need of wiping.” And she walked off, swaying her hips.
That was subtle, Ivy, thanks so much.
“Good evening. My name’s Faro. And you are…?”
Stunned.
For a moment, Amy couldn’t recall her own name.
“Um, I’m Amy Sutherland.” Somehow, Amy managed to sound uncertain, even though it was on her birth certificate.
Faro took her smaller hand in his, and it swallowed hers. It was warm and strong, and she could feel calluses on his palms. He must work with his hands. She had a sudden vision of him outside, chopping wood. Faro brushed a kiss across the back of her knuckles.
Amy struggled to breathe.
“Pharaoh? As in the Egyptian kings?” She blurted, yanking her hand away as though it were on fire.
He frowned. “No. In your culture, it’s spelled F-a-r-o.”
What does he mean by ‘in my culture’? And his manner of speaking was strange and oddly formal. The accent sounded English, with a dash of something she couldn’t quite gauge.
“Your compatriot said you own the Sutherland Inn?”
Right, this is a business meeting, not a date. Pull it together, Amy, he’s interested in the inn, not you.
She pasted on a polite smile. “Yes, I’m the proprietor. Are you looking for a room?”
“Yes, but it’s my understanding, inns are temporary lodgings. Would these accommodations be available for a more lengthy stay?”
Given his medieval outfit, she wondered if he was getting into character for a role, or maybe he was just another odd duck. Regardless, Amy needed the cash, and she’d overlook his peculiarities.
“Yes, I offer both weekly and monthly rates. How long were you planning on staying?”
He raised a brow, pondering her question.
“I suspect we shall be here several months.”
“We? So there’s more of you?” She wondered if the dollar signs sparkled in her eyes.
“Yes, my brothers and I would all like rooms. We need seven altogether, assuming you have the vacancy.”
Amy almost swooned. Standing in front of her, was the answer to several prayers. If these men booked rooms and stayed for months, she might make it back into the black.
Yup, Ivy was getting a raise.
“We’d be thrilled to have you stay with us. When do you plan on moving in?”
“This evening, if it suits your schedule.”
“It sounds perfect. We’ll be ready for you after eight tonight. Do you need directions?” Although, she’d have to do a frenzied “Flight of the Bumblebee”-style cleaning session to get ready.
“Your friend was kind enough to provide them earlier.”
“Excellent. We’ll see you soon.”
“I’m looking forward to it, sweeting.” Faro winked, turned on his heel, and swaggered to the other side of the room.
Sweeting? Amy shook her head.
He’s playing with you, trying to get a discount. It doesn’t mean he likes you.
Faro was a customer, nothing more, and she intended to keep things professional.