Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set

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Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set Page 4

by Sandra Marton


  Until now, she’d carefully avoided looking anywhere but straight ahead at the sky and clouds. Keeping her thoughts on everything but the fact that she was hanging up here above the earth in this toy.

  They were flying over a rolling landscape of rounded brown and green mountains. They looked almost close enough to touch under the soft light of the late afternoon sun.

  She could almost feel the power and isolation of the slopes below.

  And they were travelling slowly enough so that there was time to enjoy the play of light and shadow. It occurred to her that the scene below would make a spectacular photo.

  Cautiously, Jessica raised her eyes and looked out the windscreen. Was the sky always this blue? There was a depth to the color she’d never noticed. And the clouds ... They were like surrealistic wisps of froth stretched across a sapphire sea.

  ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ she said, a touch of surprise in her voice. ‘This is different from the way things look in a real plane.’

  Chad grinned. ‘This is a real plane, Jessica. More real, in a way, than those commercial jobs. This is what flying is all about.’

  ‘Look,’ she said suddenly, leaning towards him, ‘I never knew birds flew this high!’

  ‘That’s a pair of golden eagles. This is migration time, and this is one of their routes.’ He watched as she moved her head carefully to the side and then he grinned. ‘You can get out of your seat and look at them from the window, if you like.’

  ‘Stand, you mean?’ She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. This thing is barely big enough to sit in.’

  ‘It’s big enough to hold that piece of furniture you were dragging around. What have you got in that thing? Scrap iron?’

  It was impossible not to return his smile. ‘Clothes,’ she said. She laughed at his arched eyebrows. ‘Well, equipment, too.’

  ‘I thought my buddy took a load of equipment out yesterday in the big plane.’

  ‘I’m sure he did. This is my own stuff.’

  ‘What did you say you were? The coordinator?’

  Jessica nodded. ‘Fashion coordinator. I’m respon­sible for what the models wear and who does their make­up and hair.’ He looked as if she were speaking in tongues, and she sighed. ‘It’s hard to explain.’

  ‘And they pay you for doing that?’

  It was hard not to laugh aloud.

  That was the same question she sometimes asked herself, particularly after she’d spent the day reassuring a size zero model that she did not have a tummy bulge or walked her feet off trying to locate the perfect prop for a photo only to find it had been cropped out later on.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘they do, indeed.’

  ‘Do people really notice that kind of thing? Make-up and hair-styles, I mean?’

  Jessica’s eyebrows arched. Well, after all, she thought, what could you expect from a cowboy? For all she knew, he even slept in his boots and jeans.

  ‘All the time,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, but...’

  ‘Fashion is a multi-million-dollar business. It em­ploys a lot of people. This layout we’re doing at Eagle Lake, for instance ...’

  Jessica glanced at the man beside her and sighed.

  Here she was, giving her best ‘fashion is not frivolous’ speech, the one she’d given herself when she first got this job, and he wasn’t even listening.

  He was peering out of the window towards some white clouds that seemed to be boiling up from the ground.

  She frowned as she stared at his face. It was taut with concentration and something else. Worry? Concern?

  She felt a sudden knot in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ He shook his head, but he didn’t answer. She watched as he picked up his headset and slipped it on. ‘Mr. O’Bryan, please answer me. Something’s the matter, I can tell.’

  ‘Just be quiet for a minute, okay?’

  ‘But if something’s wrong—‘

  ‘I t want to check something out with Area Control.’

  She listened while he spoke to something he called Cheyenne Routing. There couldn’t be anything wrong, she thought, not when he sounded so calm and matter of fact.

  He identified their aircraft and destination and then he asked some questions about the weather.

  Not all of it made sense to her, but the gist of it seemed to be that the strange-looking clouds were storm clouds and he wanted to know more about them.

  Jessica ran her tongue across her lips.

  She could feel the plane rock, ever so slightly, and she reached out and touched her fingertips to the panel in front of her. The plane rocked gently again.

  ‘Mr. O’Bryan ... Chad? Is ... is everything OK?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  That was what he said, but it seemed to her that his normally husky voice was tense.

  ‘I just want to be sure I don’t ride us through any rain.’ He flashed a quick grin in her direction. ‘I want to give you a smooth, easy flight, Jess.’

  She nodded her head, her eyes riveted to his hands.

  He was fiddling with the dials and doing things with the wheel—the yoke, she reminded herself—and his feet were moving, too. She knew those pedals beneath his feet were called rudders. She had no idea how they worked, but it didn’t matter.

  All that counted was that the plane was turning, slowly but steadily, away from the clouds.

  When his concentration lessened, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘Are we all right?’ she asked in a small voice.

  Chad nodded. ‘Yeah, we’re fine. I knew there was some bad weather coming, but it’s moved faster than anybody expected.’ He glanced at her. ‘It’s not a problem. All that’s happened is that we’re going to take a little longer to get to the lodge. I've had to alter the course a bit...’

  The plane lurched to the side.

  ‘What was that?’ she said, her voice sharp.

  ‘I told you, there’s some weather out there. We’re going to hit a couple of bumps for a minute or two while I try to go around these clouds ...’

  Chad broke off as the plane lurched again.

  He had pulled his headset down around his neck and now she heard a loud burst of static from the earphones.

  ‘There’s some electrical interference. It’s from those thunderheads. That’s what those clouds are called,’ he said, as if he’d anticipated her next question. ‘It’ll take a while for me to go around them.’ He looked at her and then back at the windshield. ‘Just keep your seatbelt buckled and take it easy.’

  Of course she’d take it easy.

  Of course she would.

  She wouldn’t even ask him why he’d try to go around the thunderheads even though that was not quite as positive as what he’d said at first.

  Think about something else, she told herself, remem­bering what she’d learned at the Fearless Flyers. Think about something positive, like the great pictures you’ll shoot whenever you have some time off during the next few days.

  Suddenly, the thunderheads were all around them.

  Jessica glanced at Chad, waiting for him to offer an explanation, but he said nothing. Finally, she cleared her throat.

  ‘I ... I thought you said we were going to go around these clouds.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m trying.’ His voice was tense, almost curt.

  ‘Can’t we go above them?’

  ‘Not unless you don’t need to breathe oxygen. Clouds like these go up thousands of feet.’ He pulled the headset on and spoke into the microphone.

  ‘Why do you keep repeating everything? Isn’t anybody answering you?’

  ‘Look, do me a favor and keep quiet, OK?’ he growled without looking at her. ‘Just for a few minutes.’

  ‘I thought this was going to be smooth and easy,’ Jessica said. She heard the faint edge in her words and she took a deep breath. ‘If you’d just tell me what’s going on ...’

  ‘Be quiet,’ he said s
harply. ‘I’m trying to hear.’ He frowned and then pulled the headset off. ‘Damn,’ he muttered. ’Nothing but static.’

  They were flying deep within the thunderclouds now and the sky outside the cabin windows was thick charcoal fog.

  Drops of moisture lay like translucent beads on the glass.

  The plane was shuddering violently like a dog shaking its coat free of rain.

  Jessica closed her eyes as bolts of lightning lit the sky.

  It would all be over soon, she told herself.

  In just a little while, they’d touch down on Eagle Lake and she’d smile and turn to Chad O’Bryan and make some kind of joke about his idea of what constituted an easy flight and ...

  She gasped as the wind buffeted them, eased off, then buffeted them again.

  Like a cat playing with a mouse, she thought. Like a cat letting the tiny, frightened creature think it could get away from its deadly power...

  Jessica bit back a moan.

  Concentrate on something else, she told herself fiercely.

  Think about what a great story this will make.

  Think about talking about this once you’re back in New York.

  They’ll love it. The guys at the office...

  The plane dipped and slammed downwards as if it had fallen in a trough.

  This time, she couldn’t stop herself from making a small, terrified sound.

  Suddenly, Chad’s hand covered hers.

  ‘You’ll be OK,’ he said. ‘I won’t let anything happen, Jess. I promise.’

  Her eyes widened and met his. ‘Are we going to crash?’

  He shook his head, but his face was white with tension.

  ‘No,’ he said grimly, ‘we’re not going to crash. I’m going to get us out of this. You’ll see. We ...’

  Jessica screamed as the plane suddenly flipped over.

  For endless seconds, they hung upside down in their seats and then, as if a giant hand had snatched them up, the plane righted itself again.

  There was a loud banging sound on the roof, exactly is if the same hand had decided to pound its way into the cabin.

  ‘It’s the storm,’ Chad yelled, his voice almost lost above the sudden noise of rain and hail pelting against the thin metal skin of their aircraft. ‘If we can just ride it out for another few minutes ...’

  Jessica was sobbing.

  With fear.

  With amazement that the plane was still intact.

  A tough little plane, Chad had called it, and that’s what it was, all right.

  When they got out of this, she’d never be afraid of flying again.

  She’d go to a Fearless Flyers meeting, describe what she’d survived. This—this form of aversion therapy. Wasn’t that what you called being forced to confront your phobia?

  Aversion therapy, that was it.

  Some people paid a fortune for it, and here she was, getting it free...

  The same giant hand snatched them up again. She was ready for it this time; her fingers dug into the arms of her seat while the little plane was buffeted from side to side. She had a sudden, crazy image of someone shaking a pair of dice and then they were tossed free.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Chad yelled. She nodded again and he flashed her a grin. ‘That’s the girl,’ he said. ‘Just hang on. I think the worst is ...’

  A blinding flash of light zigzagged through the sky before them.

  Jessica gasped and drew back in her seat.

  ‘My God,’ she whispered. ‘Wasn’t that awfully close?’

  The lightning struck again with blinding force, lighting the cabin and scenting it with ozone.

  She knew, right away, that something had changed.

  ‘Chad?’ she said.

  He was staring at his instruments.

  Her glance followed his.

  She saw the spinning needles and dials; terror flooded her heart.

  The instruments couldn’t possibly tell him anything, not when they’d stopped working…

  ‘Ohmygod,’ she sobbed, because, all at once, she knew what was different in the little cabin.

  It was the silence, the overwhelming silence.

  ‘The engine,’ she said, through chattering teeth. ‘Chad, the engine ...’

  His hand closed tightly over hers. ‘Listen to me, Jessica,’ he said calmly. ‘We’re going down.’

  She wanted to tell him he was wrong, to accuse him of playing a bad joke, but the sighing of the wind and the downward tilt of the little plane insisted that he was telling her the truth

  . ‘Call the airport on your radio,’ she said. ’They’ll help us.’

  ‘The radio doesn’t work. Anyway, they couldn’t help us.’ His hand closed tightly over hers. ‘Are you listening, Jess?’

  Her eyes swept his face and then went to the windscreen. .

  The weather had calmed, too. The clouds were still there, but the hail that had been pelting the plane had ceased.

  ‘I heard you,’ she said finally. ‘You said we were going to crash.’

  His fingers bit into her flesh.

  ‘No, I did not, dammit! I said we were going down. There’s a difference. I can get us down safely—we can do a dead-stick landing on that lake just ahead ... and I want you to do exactly as I say.’

  She swallowed drily, watching as the trees came up to meet them. The tops of a tall stand of firs seemed close enough to touch.

  Beyond, she could see the wind-tossed water on the lake.

  ‘Is that lake big enough to land on?’ she whispered.

  Chad’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a mirthless grin. ‘It better be. We haven’t got a hell of a lot to say about it anymore.’ He squeezed her hand one last time and then he took a deep breath. ‘OK, Jessie,’ he said, ‘put your head down and link your hands behind your neck.’

  How could it take this long to die? How could everything suddenly happen in slow motion?

  ‘Put your head down,’ he said sharply. ‘Damn it, Jessie ...’

  ‘But ... but what about you?’

  ‘Just do as I tell you.’

  The lake was just ahead of them, gleaming dully through a narrow gap in the trees.

  God, she thought, it’s such a small lake. It’s only a pond...

  ‘Get down,’ he roared. His hand was heavy on the back of her head as he forced it down. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’

  Calmness enveloped her and she wanted to tell him not to worry, that she was fine and that she’d do exactly as he’d instructed.

  But everything was happening too quickly.

  The plane was going down or the water was rushing up to meet it, she wasn’t quite sure which it was.

  There was a heavy slap and then they were skimming along the lake at a speed she couldn’t believe and the shoreline was just ahead and the trees were leaning in on either side...

  Her ears rang with the unexpected shriek of protesting metal.

  The plane seemed to hit a wall, but that was impossible, she thought clearly, because there was no wall.

  The last thing she was aware of was sudden, absolute silence as blackness exploded all around her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘Come on, Jessica. Open your eyes.’

  Jessica moaned.

  Someone was calling her name. The voice was a persistent buzz, forcing her back from the clouded edged of sleep, rising above the soft slap of the waves.

  Her head hurt.

  It always did when she’d had too much sun at the beach and that was where she was now, wasn’t it? She was at the beach; she must be, and she must be lying on a float out in the water, being rocked gently from side to side...

  ‘Look at me, Jess. Open your eyes.’

  She wanted to do as the voice asked.

  For one thing, once she opened her eyes she could swim to shore and get out of the sun. Maybe then this awful headache would go away.

  But she was tired. Her eyelids were heavy. It was so much easier to fall back into the swirli
ng darkness.

  ‘Look at me,’ the voice insisted.

  It took all her power of concentration, but finally she forced her eyes open. Her glance flickered over her surroundings and she frowned.

  ‘What happened?’ she murmured in a faint voice. She cleared her throat and focused on the face swimming before her. Gold-flecked, hazel eyes peered into hers. The cowboy, she thought groggily. What’s he doing at the beach with me?

  ‘Welcome back,’ he said softly. ‘You had me worried for a minute.’

  ‘Chad?’ She frowned, and then panic flooded through her as reality returned. ‘We crashed! We crashed…’

  She struggled to sit up but his hands pressed lightly but firmly against her shoulders.

  ‘Take it easy,’ he said quickly. ‘We’re fine, Jessie. We’re down and we’re safe. I just want to check your forehead.’ She flinched as he bent towards her but his touch was surprisingly gentle. ‘Here,’ he said, pulling off his neckerchief and holding it out to her, ‘wet this with your tongue.’ Obediently, like a child who’d hurt her knee at the playground, she did as he asked. ‘It’s just a superficial cut,’ he said, dabbing at it carefully. ‘We’ll do a better cleaning job later. This’ll do for now.’ He leaned back and held up his hand. ‘How many fingers do you see?’

  ‘Two,’ she said, wincing slightly.

  He nodded. ‘Good. OK, Jess, let’s get going. We haven’t got all that much time.’

  ‘Get going?’ A peculiar kind of lethargy seemed to grip her, and she sat quietly while he unbuckled her seat belt. ’Where?’

  ‘To shore. We’re in the middle of a lake.’

  She glanced out the window, noting, almost with surprise, the grey water surrounding them, tossing the little plane from side to side.

  ‘I don’t remember anything,’ she whispered.

  ‘You must have whacked your head on the instrument panel. We touched down OK, but there was one hell of a surprise waiting for us.’

  ‘I ... I don’t understand ...’

  Chad edged past her and knelt behind her seat. ‘I didn’t see the rock shelf we’re wedged on until it was too late. It ripped the hell out of the cabin. I don’t know how long it’ll be before water starts pouring in.’

  ‘There’s water in here already,’ she said slowly, for the first time noticing the inch or so that covered the cabin floor.

 

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