Julianna Morris - Jake's Biggest Risk

When I was growing up, my father usually had two or three cameras hanging around his neck. One of our family jokes is “Just a little closer to the edge.” Why? Dad would frequently pose us on places like giant logs or an ocean bluff to get the desired photo. We were never in danger, but I’m certain my mother had a few nervous moments. Some people will do anything for a great picture, and my hero in Jake’s Biggest Risk is that kind of photographer. Jake Hollister has no intention of giving up his roving, adventure-filled life, even after being injured in a plane crash. Enter Hannah Nolan, a divorced mother, determined not to fall in love with a footloose risk-taker with commitment issues. Jake and Hannah have one problem...hearts don’t always listen to what the brain is telling them. Instead of a classic movie alert, I recommend The National Parks, America‘s Best Idea, a 2009 documentary by Ken Burns. The six-part series uses new and historical footage to provide terrific views of U.S. national parks. Three cheers for public television! I hope you enjoy this third book in my Those Hollister Boys series. I love to hear from readers and can be contacted c/o Mills & Boon Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada. Wishing you all the best, Julianna Morris

Title Page Jake’s Biggest Risk Julianna Morris www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE AUTHOR Dedication PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN EXTRACT Copyright JULIANNA MORRIS has an offbeat sense of humor that frequently gets her in trouble. Her interests range from oceanography and photography to traveling, painting, walking and reading. Julianna also loves cats of all shapes and sizes. Her family’s feline companion is named Merlin, and he’s currently a little grumpy from being on a diet. The family is discussing adding another dog to their menagerie just to make him happy (Merlin is a feline anomaly—he enjoys canine companions).

Dedication For my father, who took thousands of pictures over the years, visually preserving our childhood with love and talent. I miss you so much.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EXTRACT

Copyright

PROLOGUE

JAKE HOLLISTER PEERED above a crest of snow, spotted his quarry and began taking pictures of the polar bear and her cubs. He was barely aware of the numbing cold.

“You’re out of your frigging mind,” whispered his assistant, using the sotto voce they’d perfected over the years they had worked together.

“That is entirely a matter of opinion.”

“Fine. It’s my opinion . We’re miles from nowhere. It’s the time of year when nobody is crazy enough be out here except Inupiat and scientists. And that money-grubbing bastard pilot is probably drunk. Oh, and did I mention? We’re thirty feet from the largest bear on the planet, hiding behind a chunk of ice the size of my girlfriend’s ass.”

“Vera has a very nice ass. I’m sure she’d be pissed that you’re comparing it to a piece of ice,” Jake murmured, focusing on the mother bear’s face. She was wary, possibly venturing out for the first time with her cubs since their birth. He’d never come to the Arctic so early in the season, when the polar bears were leaving their winter birthing caves. It was risky, but what was life without a few risks?

This was their twenty-first day of shooting. They had at least another two months planned, though they might be able to wrap up earlier if he got the shots he needed. Maybe . Editors sometimes failed to recognize that wild animals didn’t show up on cue. Jake wouldn’t compromise, so if he wasn’t satisfied, he didn’t turn in a single photo.

Toby handed him another camera, taking the one Jake had been using and tucking it into a case. They’d worked together so long that Toby seemed to instinctively know what equipment Jake would need next.

“These days Vera is pissed whenever I leave,” Toby grumbled. “She’s starting to talk marriage.”

Jake refocused with the second camera, most of his attention on the bear and her cubs. “That is why it’s never a good idea to get into a serious relationship when you’re in this line of work.”

Toby mopped his face, somehow sweaty despite the cold. “Hell, it isn’t a good idea to be in this line of work. Why do you always have to get so goddamned close? You’ve got telephoto lenses that could photograph Cindy Crawford’s mole from the moon.”

Jake didn’t bother explaining.

The camera whirred as he continued taking pictures. He’d never wanted to have an assistant, but when he’d taken an assignment to Indonesia eight years earlier, the magazine had insisted he take Tobias Mahoney with him. Short, wiry and endlessly complaining, the guy had risked his life to save Jake when an uprooted tree had knocked him into a rain-swollen river. They’d been a team ever since. Complaints included.

“I’m running if she starts this way,” Toby announced, settling the camera bag straps around his neck for a quick getaway. “I’ll save the cameras, but she gets the rest of your equipment.”

“She’s too fast—you’d never get away from her on foot. But unless the wind changes, she’ll never know we’re here. Provided you pipe down, of course.”

With a faint smile, Jake continued working. There was an amazing quality to the silence around them. It was both an absence of noise and an extraordinary clarity of the few sounds they could hear. Ice cracking. Wind across the snow. The faint snuffling cries from the bears. None of it could be captured in a photograph, yet he kept trying, because most of the world would never experience the Arctic. He was lucky to have been this far north several times in his career, though usually in the middle of the summer when there was a relative abundance of insect and animal life. Now it was mostly ice and the three bears they’d spotted from the plane.

The cubs were playful; one even lay on its back, grabbing at the mother’s tail. Then suddenly the adult bear whirled their direction, standing on her hind legs and sniffing the air, some instinct telling her that danger might be afoot.

Toby choked and Jake nudged him with an elbow, still shooting. If he could just catch that look in her eyes...the wildness of an animal protecting her young.

When the bear dropped to all fours and took several steps in their direction, even Jake was considering a strategic retreat. Then the bear stopped and bawled to her babies. They headed west with amazing speed and were soon hidden behind a ridge in the landscape.

“Gawd,” Toby gasped, clasping his hand to his forehead. “This is the last time, Jake. The last frigging time I’m doing this for you.”

“You say that every trip.”

“This time I mean it.”

“You always say that, too.”

They hiked back to the plane with Toby still issuing a long stream of grievances. Their pilot was watching for them. Gordon was a seasoned bush pilot—Toby’s comments on his ancestry and drinking notwithstanding—and couldn’t be blamed for charging a fortune to fly a photographer around northern Alaska to look for an animal powerful enough to destroy his plane.

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