Robert Belton has been stranded in Seattle, working as a prostitute. When an attractive customer carrying a mysterious wooden box comes into the brothel in search of a bed for the night, Robert’s more than willing to oblige. When he learns his customer is also looking for a crew to help him haul provisions to the gold fields in the frozen north, Robert jumps at the chance and volunteers.

Dr. John Fauth is only looking for one thing in Dawson City, and it isn’t gold. He needs platinum for his semiconductor research. Just getting to the gold fields is a grueling, dangerous journey, especially when a competitor will stop at nothing to get his hands on an invaluable device in John’s possession.

As they fall for each other on the bitterly cold trail, John and Robert may just find themselves with more to lose than they could ever gain in the gold fields of the Yukon Territory.

Excerpt:

The stranger glanced over his shoulder. Facing Ernest again, he said, “I don’t suppose there are beds available without company?”

Ernest shook his head. “Not in this hotel.”

“Very well.” The stranger nodded and raised his glass. “I’ll finish my drink and be on my way, then.”

Ernest walked away, but I may as well have been knee deep in mud. Just about the time I’d convinced myself I could and should leave this man alone with his drink, he looked at me. We held each other’s gazes for a moment, but this time, when he pulled his away, something flickered across his expression, like I’d had the same effect on him as he’d had on me.

Heavy boots tromped across the planks just outside the door, and out of habit, I looked up. The stranger did as well, and when men appeared—just as well-dressed as, but perhaps a little less dignified than, the newcomer—he turned back toward the bar, swearing under his breath.

The other three talked amongst themselves, their voices low and their eyes darting toward the man drinking in front of me. As they took seats at the other end of the bar and flagged Ernest down for drinks, my patron casually turned just enough to keep his back to them.

His eyes flicked up and met mine. Lowering his voice, he said, “Any accommodations you can recommend?” He held my gaze as he took a long swallow of the drink I’d poured.

I cleared my throat. “I wouldn’t know. I’m staying—” I glanced up at the ceiling “—here.”

His eyebrows rose. The glass clinked on the polished bar. “Is that right?”