Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Alaskan geography.” Kody idly traces circles around my belly button. “We have no maps or books or any information about the geography of the state.”
“He implied we live in Alaska.” Leo’s mouth trails my cheek to my ear, distracting me. “But he never confirmed it. How do we know this isn’t Russia or Canada? We don’t have maps of those places, either.” He returns to the manual, reading through the text. “Cruising speed is approximately 161 miles per hour, and maximum flight range is six hundred miles with a heavy payload. With a lighter load and optimal conditions, that range can be extended.” He looks at me expectantly.
“That rules out Russia.” I shrug. “The flight distance between the Prince William Sound and the northern coast of Alaska is over seven hundred miles. Farther to Russia. But the Northwest Territories in Canada are closer. We could be there, I guess. Except…” Rubbing my tired head, I sift through what I know about the landscape. “There’s a mountain range that extends from west to east across northern Alaska. The Brooks Range. I think our hills are part of that range.”
“Are there river gorges in that mountain range?” Kody asks.
“I know of the Koyukuk and the Anaktuvuk, but there are others that remain unfrozen year-round.”
Geological and hydrological conditions, including warm springs and rapid currents, prevent some of the rivers from freezing completely, even during the harsh Arctic winters.
“We can estimate our location.” Leo’s bicolored eyes gleam in the glowing flames. “What’s the distance from the Prince William Sound to the Brooks Range?”
“Maybe five hundred miles?”
“How confident are you about that?”
“When I did my residency program in Anchorage, I treated people with life-threatening injuries from all over, including the North Slope Borough. When they were transported by life flight or military Black Hawk helicopters, I knew where they were coming from and how long it would take to arrive. I have a pretty good feel for the distances between the coasts and the mountains.”
“Good girl.” Leo drums his fingers, silently moves his lips, and stares at nothing, lost in thought. Then his eyes find mine. “Three hours and fifteen minutes.”
“Huh?”
“That’s the time it takes the Turbo Beaver to fly from the Prince William Sound to the mountain range.”
I blink. “You just calculated that in your head?”
He grins.
“That’s some Sherlock-level deduction.” I shake my head. “Next you’ll tell me the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow.”
“Nah. But I can tell you the speed that you swallow.”
“Nice.” I laugh. “Let’s not forget, you swallowed first.”
“Hm.” His voice drops. “I might need a reminder.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Kody’s brows knit.
I clear my throat, unsure of what to say without making things awkward.
Leo has no reservations. “She snowballed me.”
Kody’s mouth forms a brutal slash, the only hint of tension in his otherwise impassive face.
Does he know what snowballing is? I’m about to ask until I glance at his lap.
Good God.
I mean, I know the man is hung. I’m reminded every night when we bathe. But I rarely see him hard. He usually conceals that from me.
Not right now. Nope. I’m staring at a full-blown flagpole in his briefs.
I look up, and our gazes fuse in a moment of raw, unfiltered truth.
He wants to fuck me. He’s been more than patient, and his restraint is reaching its end. He’s going to be inside me soon, and when he is, he’ll be feral, with his teeth in my flesh and his monster cock ripping me open from end to end.
Sweet Jesus, I want that. I want him. The thought burns in my eyes and throbs like a heartbeat between my legs.
“Seriously?” Leo tosses a blanket over Kody’s lap. “A fucking boner, man? I’m your brother.”
“She’s not.”
“Thank God for that.” I bite my lip.
“Can we focus here?” Leo scowls. “Let’s say the tranquilizer gave Denver a four-hour window.”
“Why four?” I blink.
“If it takes six hours to wear off, he would plan for four hours to minimize risk.”
“I hate that you knew him that well.”
“Me, too.” He clenches his teeth. “After he drugged you, he had to dock the yacht and move the crates. If the flight to Hoss is over three hours, he had less than an hour to get you on that plane and in the air. Anything over a fifteen-minute drive would’ve been too far and too risky to transport a kidnapped woman. Especially the missing wife of a billionaire.”
“I wasn’t missing. Monty thinks I left him.”
He shoots me a look that shuts down further talk of my husband. “If my calculations are correct, Denver kept the Turbo Beaver near the Prince William Sound.”
“Even if we knew which port, how does that help?” I blow out a breath. “We don’t know which yacht is his.”
“We can ask around.”
“Okay, but why do we need it? If we reach a town with people and law enforcement, we won’t be alone anymore. We can find someone to help us.”