BURN OF SUMMER
KNIFE’S EDGE, ALASKA Book 3
By Rebecca Zanetti
Chapter One
Ace Osprey was bleeding again.
Not a surprise. The guy showed up bleeding at least once a week. At this point,
Dr. May Smirnov had spent more time stitching up the handsome jackass than she
had with her own skin care routine. Which, admittedly, consisted of soap, water,
and inexpensive lotion.
She had walked back into her clinic after a quick dinner down the street and
stared at him in the quaint waiting room while trying, really hard, to hold on to her
temper. As the small Alaska town’s only doctor, she had to act like a professional,
even though all she wanted was to smack him atop his stubborn head. Pictures
she’d taken of the outlying wilderness decorated the walls and failed to provide
peace for once. “What now?” Okay. That sounded more like a ticked off girlfriend
and not a doctor. She was not his girlfriend and never would be. “Ace?”
He lounged on the newish green leather chairs she’d managed to obtain just a
day ago, his legs long, his eyes a mellow green tonight. “I tripped and fell.”
She ground her back teeth together and moved toward him, leaning to study the
cut above his left eye. The flow had slowed to a trickle that ran down the side of
his face to land on his grey T-shirt. “Looks like a ring caught you.”
He grinned. “Can you believe that? What kind of a moron wears a ring after
fishin’?”
Her chin dropped. The cut wasn’t bad. She could bandage it with a butterfly.
She glanced toward the door. “Will I have another patient coming in?”
“Nah. I dropped him fast with a punch to the gut. He was coughing out blood a
bit, but I didn’t damage anything inside him. The guy was already pretty tuned up
with booze.” Ace still hadn’t moved.
She knew a lecture wouldn’t help. Even so, she owed him the truth as his
doctor. “You need to stop this nonsense, Ace.” The guy was always getting in
fights, but he never hurt anybody. Not really. And something told her he could if he
chose. It was if he wanted to punish himself. “Again, I have several names—”
“I don’t need a shrink, Doc,” he drawled.
The heck he didn’t. “Even if you won’t see a professional, why not drop by
Smitty’s?” She could not believe she had just suggested the old mountain man to
help Ace, but the guy was known to fix a head or two. At least, that’s what she’d
heard. “It can’t hurt.”
“You don’t know that.” The smile widened, making Ace look even more
roguish. “When Trackson Leithy went up to Smitty’s for advice last week, Smitty
threw him out a window. But, I guess Track was being a moron.”
They were all morons. All men. Well, not all. But most. May straightened,
fighting the very real urge to brush a lock of Ace’s dark brown, almost black, hair
away from his angled face. He was at least half Inuit and had the strong features of
his people. The very handsome features. Touching him in such a way would be
very un-doctorlike, and she battled herself every day to keep professional with
him. “I’d like to throw you out of a window.”
He barked out a laugh, and even that held charm. Well, a rough-edged, born and
bred in the Alaska wilderness, charm. “You know I’d let you put your hands on me
any way you want.” Ah, the flirty Ace was back. She wondered, not for the first time, what he’d do
if she took him up on one of his invitations. Probably run for the jagged mountains
surrounding them and disappear. He thought she was safe to flirt with because she
worked as his doctor. True. He had a right to believe that. Besides, he’d been
playing with plenty of the tourists in town for the fishing season. Young women
looking for adventure, and from what she’d heard, they’d found plenty of it with
Ace. Apparently the Alaskan native was a ‘god’ in bed.
Hah. She found that very hard to believe. The guy was immature and selfish,
although she had noted a kindness in him.
“Are you going to patch me up, or what?” The blood had begun to congeal.
“That’s my job,” she said dryly, studying his eyes. Clear with normal sized
pupils. “Before we move to an examination room, do you have any other
symptoms?” It was doubtful, but if he hit the ground, she’d have trouble getting
him up by herself. Ace was a muscled machine at well over six-feet tall, and she,
well, wasn’t. “Dizziness, nausea, headache, ringing in the ears?”
He gingerly probed the wound. “Nope. My face just hurts,” he said cheerfully.
“It’s killin’ me,” she retorted, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”
“Don’t hit,” he groused.
She sighed. “I didn’t hit you, you big baby.”
He grasped her wrist as she started to move back. “Doc? Why don’t you give in
and just let me take you out one of these nights? As a thank you for all of your
stitches, if for nothin’ else.”
She easily twisted free of his loose hold. “You know, Ace? I should just take
you up on that so you’d stop asking. We both know you don’t mean it.”
He sobered, his eyes turning an even deeper green. Or maybe it was just the soft
lighting in the waiting room. “I do mean it. I’d give you a night you’d never
forget.” ...
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