The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting Read Online Free Page A

land appealed to him. The simplicity of a survival situation couldn’t be beat. Just you and nature. You didn’t need electricity or television or telephones to survive. All you needed was skill and perseverance. He liked that much better than modern society.
    He slung the light pack over his shoulder and gave Colt a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I assure you, man. The last thing I want to do is touch a woman right now.” Not when their businesswas just about to take off. “Some things are more important.”
    “I’m just making sure,” Colt drawled. “Everyone already thinks that your dick rules your business decisions. We need to prove them wrong if this has a hope of succeeding.”
    It irritated him that Colt was right. That everyone thought that his cock was in charge of his brain. Dane rubbed his jaw, grimacing at the thought. Back in his hockey days, he’d been a different person. Headstrong and reckless beyond belief, he’d played so hard and carelessly that he’d managed to score two serious concussions in a row, and when another man would have paid attention to the doctors and been more cautious, he’d gone back on the ice as soon as he’d had the okay…and walked right into concussion number three in a play-off game.
    Tensions had already been high at that point, and that particular concussion was a career-ender. He was just injured far too often, and he was a good player, but not a great one. The coaches didn’t want to take a risk on him. And then Samantha Kingston—the wife of the team’s owner—had approached him. She liked younger players. He’d turned her down, but she’d turned to the tabloids to salvage her wounded pride, and “Casanova Croft” was born. She’d used him and made him look like a jackass, and it didn’t matter how good a player he’d been. He’d turned into “that creep who nailed the boss’s wife.” His contract wasn’t renewed, and a free agent with too many injuries was too big a risk for most teams to take on. Combine that with his tabloid notoriety, and no one would touch him.
    It hadn’t helped that his past was full of a string of C-list actresses who were interested in dating a professional athlete—the latesttrendy fashion accessory. The tabloid notoriety—on top of his world crashing down on him—became too much. When he’d started getting offers for sex tapes, he realized just how fucked-up his life had become. He’d fled, with nowhere to turn. Colt had contacted him, invited him to take a monthlong survival course with him to clear his head. He’d gone reluctantly, expecting nothing but a month of no phone calls from anyone.
    Going on the survival trip had been the best thing to ever happen to him. Forced to use his wits and skills to survive…it had been life changing. Nothing had been easy—no shelter, no supplies, no showers. At first he’d hated it—and Colt—for dragging him out into the Alaskan wilderness. But then things had changed. He’d learned to like making things with his hands, trapping his own food. It gave him a feeling of intense satisfaction. Dane had discovered a new passion, one that surpassed the adrenaline of even the most exciting play-off game. When they’d finished the trip, Colt had suggested that Dane join him at his lodge in Alaska, completely off the grid. They’d lived there for a year—no electricity, no running water, no food storage—nothing except what they could catch and take care of on their own. It had been rough and incredibly difficult.
    It had been bliss.
    He would have kept living off the grid indefinitely—not exactly hiding inasmuch as keeping a low profile—if Grant hadn’t visited him and Colt in their cabin in Alaska to get away for a few weeks. Colt had invited him—the marine wasn’t much for chit-chat, but he knew Grant was struggling, even years after the death of his wife. Once in Alaska, the three friends hadquickly fallen into an old, easy camaraderie. Though Grant didn’t