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  Mounted Release

  Amy Ruttan

  Gordon Thomas isn’t just an ordinary constable of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, he’s also a bit of a bear—literally. He’s been on his own for so long he’s shocked when he discovers another Mukswa in his territory, and a female at that. The woman brings out the true beast in him, one which he’s been controlling for far too long.

  Sheridan Stevens is on the run. When she crashes on an isolated road, her savior is the only male of her kind within one hundred kilometres. He’s kind, gorgeous and stirs her desire to a burning crescendo.

  A snowstorm causes them to seek shelter. As the mercury drops outside, the temperature inside is rising. Neither Gordon nor Sheridan can contain the primal lust singing in their blood. But even as their passion burns brighter than the northern lights, Sheridan’s predator stalks them…ready to make his kill.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Mounted Release

  ISBN 9781419938511

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Mounted Release Copyright © 2012 Amy Ruttan

  Edited by Shannon Combs

  Cover design by Kendra Egert

  Photography by Dreamstime.com

  Electronic book publication March 2012

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

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  Mounted Release

  Amy Ruttan

  Chapter One

  Constable Gordon Thomas grimaced when he saw the thin beams of what looked to be headlights filtering in between the heavy flakes floating down from the dark sky and blanketing the entire road in thick snow.

  Shit.

  He carefully pulled his patrol car to the side of the road. The headlights were cockeyed and coming from a ditch at the side of the highway.

  Double shit.

  He hoped whoever was in there was still alive. He knew there was no way an ambulance would be able to make it through this blizzard and he wondered who would be foolish enough to try and traverse a back road in the dead of winter just outside of Dawson City.

  I can handle it. I was born to handle it.

  Gordon parked the best he could but the shoulder was slippery. The bitter cold hit him when he opened the door to his cruiser but it didn’t affect him. He was a Mukswa after all.

  A black bear shifter. Though he hated being a Mukswa, in situations like this the strength and the ability to withstand frigid temperatures in his human form was quite handy.

  He set up flares to warn other motorists and stop them from plowing into the back of his patrol car, though he seriously doubted anyone else would be on this road tonight. When he finished he trudged through the deep drifts of snow, the wind howling around him. The dense forest of pines whispered in the howling wind, their thick boughs shaking, making it sound as if the taiga was alive and speaking to him.

  “Mukswa son.”

  Don’t think about it. Even though he had his shifts under control, every now and then when he was alone in the wilderness it was as if the spirits of his ancestors were calling to him, begging him to shift. Gordon shook his head and continued toward the car. He hoped whoever was in there was still alive.

  The metallic scent of blood hit his nostrils, but something else was hidden in the blood—something that made the bear hidden deep inside him stir. The bear was waking up. The thought of his bear taking over was a frightening thought. His father didn’t seem to understand why he loathed his Mukswa form.

  What the hell?

  Gordon pulled his flashlight out of his belt and shined it into the interior of the car. He could see a female slumped over the wheel. He rapped on the window, but there was no response.

  “Miss, I’m Constable Gordon Thomas of the RCMP.”

  Still no response.

  The door was unlocked, so he opened it. When a blast of cold air infiltrated the car the woman moaned. “It’s all right, Miss. You’re going to be all right.” There was a small laceration on her forehead, which explained the scent of blood he had picked up.

  She moaned again, her eyelids flickering as she seemed to struggle with regaining consciousness.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.”

  He undid the seatbelt and gently lifted her from the car. Gordon carried her through the snow and placed her in the back of his patrol car, which was warm. He didn’t know how long the woman had been in the ditch, but her car was frigid. The flares around his patrol car were beginning to wane and he knew he had to get off the side of the road. He placed a bandage on the superficial cut on her forehead.

  Gordon headed back to her car and grabbed her purse. By the time he got back to the patrol car the snow had become heavier. He had to get her to a hospital so a doctor could check her out.

  He picked up the transceiver and turned it on. “This is Constable Thomas.” He waited for a reply but all he got was static. “This is Constable Gordon Thomas.”

  The static sound made his heart sink just a bit. Great, communications were down.

  The woman in the back seat shifted and her subtle scent of lavender sent a jolt of pure heat to his groin.

  A deep growl rumbled in his chest and he closed his eyes, trying to take deep, even breaths as he gently put down the receiver. He needed to control the beast within him.

  What in the hell was going on?

  It had been a long time since he felt the urge to shift. It was as if he was some prepubescent Mukswa again. Dammit.

  Gordon loathed it when he became a man and the bear transformation overpowered him, turning him wild and untamed. He nearly cost his younger brother his life because of one uncontrolled shift.

  It’s why he left his people on the shores of Rice Lake in Ontario, joined the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and headed for the north. It killed him to be away from his family, to be a lone bear, but what choice was there? It was safer this way.

  Well, he’d report the accident when he got back to the detachment. He’d take it slow and get to the nearest hospital. As he headed out onto the road the wheels of his patrol car slid, had no traction on the treacherous back road.

  “What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “I’m Constable Gordon Thomas of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. You were in an accident.”

  When he glanced up into the rearview mirror he saw her eyes widen in surprise. She had big, green, almond-sha
ped eyes, which made another growl rumble deep inside of his chest.

  “An accident? Oh my God.”

  “You’re going to be okay, Miss…”

  “Stevens, Sheridan Stevens.”

  “You’re going to be okay, Miss Stevens. I’ll get you to the hospital in Dawson City.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she murmured, and then she sat up straight. “I feel fine by the way. You don’t have to take me to the hospital.”

  “Sorry, Miss Stevens, it’s protocol.” He turned his attention back on the road and tried to ignore the quickening beat of his heart.

  Why the hell was the shift bothering him now, in this moment? Gordon had kept the bear dormant for ten years, so what was different now?

  He sneaked another glance at her. She was leaning against the backseat, her arms crossed, and she looked put out and agitated. His police training immediately kicked in. Something was not right. It appeared to him that Miss Stevens might be running from something, but what?

  Suddenly he was angry at the thought that she was running scared from something, that someone might be trying to hurt her.

  “Why were you on the old logging route, Miss Stevens?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I was out for a drive.”

  Gordon chuckled. “People don’t go for pleasure rides in the middle of winter, at night on the old logging roads.”

  “I do.”

  Her green eyes sparkled with intensity, as if challenging him, and another surge of heated blood coursed through him, making his cock hard.

  Gordon groaned inwardly and shifted in his seat. Why the hell was he getting a hard-on for a complete stranger?

  Granted it had been a long time since he had sex, since he fed the beast, but it hadn’t been long enough to warrant a full-out shift and that was something he never planned on doing again.

  He shook his head and focused on the road. There was no traction and he could smell his brakes smoking. It wasn’t long before they were absolutely mired down in the snow.

  Fuck.

  “What’s happened?” Sheridan asked, her voice full of panic.

  “We’re stuck. The snow is too deep.” He lifted his transceiver again but got no signal, just static. Double fuck.

  “What?” Sheridan’s voice rose an octave. “Why did we stop?”

  “We can’t go any farther. We’re going to have to find shelter and fast.”

  “Shelter?”

  Gordon ignored the tension Sheridan was oozing. She was affecting him enough already. It was as if he could sense every emotion in her and it agitated him. He rolled his shoulders and climbed out of his cruiser. He opened the trunk and pulled out his emergency survival kit and his parka. Sheridan would need the warmth. That was another thing that had set off his alarms. She was wearing a light jacket—something that would be suitable in the spring or the fall, not the winter in the Yukon Territory.

  He sniffed the air, getting his bearings. He knew exactly where they were and there was shelter nearby. An old ranger station that served now as emergency shelter was half a kilometer northwest of their location.

  Sheridan tumbled out of the cruiser holding her head as if in pain and his heart skipped a beat. He hoped there wasn’t something seriously wrong with her internally, like a hemorrhage or concussion, that was causing her to be a bit clumsy.

  “Are you all right, Miss Stevens?” He rushed to her side and held her steady. Even through the thick snow that clung to them he could smell the heady scent of lavender and sun-baked hay, it reminded him of summers down on Rice Lake. Summers he spent swimming and fishing, it seemed like ages ago. A pang of homesickness engulfed him. He hadn’t thought of home in so long.

  Sheridan froze and pushed his hands away. “I’m fine.” She began to shiver and he slipped his parka over her shoulders. “Don’t you need this, Constable Thomas?”

  “I can handle the cold, besides you were the one in the accident.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Gordon nodded and slung his rucksack and his rifle over his shoulder. “Come on, it’s this way.” He held out his hand and she took it, letting out a gasp of surprise when they touched.

  “You’re hot, I mean…oh lord.” She blushed. “Forget what I mean.”

  Gordon chuckled. “I understood what you meant. It’s okay. I’m used to the cold.”

  She sent him an inscrutable look as she tried to keep up with his pace through the high drifts.

  “No one is that used to this kind of cold.”

  “It would be colder if it wasn’t snowing. If it were a clear night I would be setting up camp in the patrol car instead of hiking out to the cabin. However, I don’t see this storm ending any time soon.” He waited for her to catch up. He tried to make his steps even and deep so she wouldn’t have to break the snow, but where he stood at six foot three she was a hell of a lot shorter. If he had to guess she was about five foot six. Tiny compared to him.

  She stumbled and he reached out, catching her before she went face first into a snowbank.

  “Dammit I hate the snow,” she cursed.

  “Then you’re living in the wrong place, Miss Stevens.”

  “Just call me Sheridan, and I’m beginning to question my judgment on coming up here.”

  “Where are you from?” He didn’t get an answer immediately.

  “Don’t I have a right to remain silent?”

  Gordon cocked an eyebrow. Now he really knew something was fishy. “You don’t have to tell me, I was just making conversation.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not in a conversing mood. I just want to get to somewhere warm where I can defrost.”

  Gordon laughed again. “Totally understandable.”

  They continued on in silence. He stopped every once in a while to let her catch up, but all too soon he could see the exertion of walking through the snow was too much for her. Sheridan had been through a lot tonight and if they kept up at this rate it was going to take them hours to get to the cabin. He scooped her up, causing her to cry out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you, you’re exhausted.”

  “You can’t be that strong, to carry me.”

  Gordon grinned at her and fought the urge to place a kiss at the end of her little pixie nose. “It’s nothing to me. We’re almost there.”

  Sheridan shook her head. “You can see your way in the dark, you’re not affected by the cold and you’re as strong as a…” She trailed off, her body stiffened in his arms. “Don’t mind me. Just tired.”

  “You’ll be able to rest soon.” Gordon was pretty sure she was going to say bear. How right she would be, but he also got the sense that she knew what he was but was denying it.

  A shiver ran down his spine and it wasn’t from the cold. Was she Mukswa too? Females of the clan couldn’t shift, only the males could. If she was female, what the hell was she doing out here alone? Female Mukswa were revered and protected by their clan. Especially during the years they were able to have children.

  If she was a Mukswa it would explain the reason why he was reacting to her like an untried youth and it also probably meant she was in heat. Gordon inhaled deeply and recognized the cloying perfume smell. Yes, she was in heat.

  Where was her mate?

  The thought of an enraged male encroaching on his territory up here made him sick to his stomach.

  Whether Sheridan Stevens liked it or not he was going to get some answers from her and he’d find the mate mark on her body. He didn’t want an angry male up here.

  The last thing he needed was a fight on his hands.

  The cabin was a welcome sight. He set her down and opened the door. She followed him inside cautiously, clinging tightly to the parka as if her life depended on it.

  The cabin was adequate shelter. It was a large, square room with a small kitchen tucked into one corner, a fireplace against the wall and a wooden bunk in the other corner. He strode over to the opposite side of the cabin
and opened the door to another small room, which had a stock of firewood, some canned goods and a composting toilet.

  When he entered the main room Sheridan Stevens was still huddled by the front door, shaking in his oversized parka. He walked past her and locked the front door.

  “I’ll get a fire started.” He dropped his rucksack on the roughhewn table but took the gun with him. Female Mukswa or not, he didn’t know her and he damn well couldn’t trust a female on the run. He knelt down by the fireplace, on alert now, waiting for a male to show up.

  “What should I do?” Sheridan asked nervously.

  He didn’t even look back at her. He was angry she was here. He had left Ontario to escape the clan. He didn’t want to be near another one. For ten years he had managed to bury that part of his life and yet here he was, locked in a cabin with a female. In heat. This was going to test his willpower, more than he cared to try.

  “Constable Thomas, what should I do?”

  “Once I get this fire started you can get undressed and show me your mate mark so I know who you belong to.”

  Chapter Two

  “What…what are you talking about?” Though she knew what he meant. She had an inkling when he seemed immune to the frigid temperatures. Of all the places to hide, she had to encounter the only Mukswa man in all of the Yukon Territory. Just her luck.

  His chocolate eyes sparkled with lust and barely contained anger. Heat unfurled deep in her belly and a primal urge was threatening to take over. Why couldn’t she have felt this way about Levi? Which was a ridiculous thought in itself because Levi made her want to retch. If her chosen mate was someone other than Levi she wouldn’t be running and wouldn’t be in this precarious situation.

  Of course it didn’t help that she was in heat and this male standing in front of her made her yearn for mating. Constable Gordon Thomas was the sexiest man she had seen in a long time. His hair was cropped short, which was unusual for a Mukswa man. He was tall, broad shouldered and his RCMP uniform, though not the traditional red serge—thank God or it would’ve sent her over the edge—fitted his form perfectly. His copper skin looked as warm as the blood pumping under his skin.