The heat of the fire was warm on her skin, but Chad’s hands were warmer still. She closed her eyes as he touched her breasts, marveling at how such a gentle caress could set her senses ablaze.
‘You’re so beautiful, Jessie,’ he whispered. ‘I tried not to think that before, when I undressed you.’ He bent his head; she caught her breath as his lips found her breast. ‘Do you want me? Tell me you want me, love. Tell me ...’
‘Yes,’ she whispered with abandon, ‘yes. I want you. Oh, I want you. Chad, Chad…'
She lay back against the blankets, sliding her hands up his chest, tangling her fingers in the dark mat of hair, marveling at the rapid thud of his heartbeat under her fingers.
His skin was like fire-warmed silk; the muscles seeming to come alive beneath her touch. She lost herself in the soft sounds of pleasure he made as she touched him, and then, with a fierceness that surprised them both, she pulled his head down to hers.
‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘Jessie ...’
The words made her heart soar.
Everything would work out. She was sure of it. They had been meant to find each other; they couldn't possibly lose each other, now that they had.
‘And I love you,' she said softly. 'With all my heart.'
He smiled and she thought how beautiful he was. Everything about him was beautiful: his scent, his whispered words as he caressed her. He had invaded all her senses. It was as if he had become the world, the sun, the moon, the firmament in which the stars blazed forever.
‘Is this what you want?’ he murmured, touching her, kissing her, exciting her beyond rational thought. ‘Tell me, Jessie. Tell me what you want.'
'You,' she said fiercely, 'you, you, you…
She wanted to tell him she would love him forever, that even if the real world reclaimed them, she would be his.
But his hands were touching her everywhere, learning secrets not even she had known, and it was too late to talk.
It was too late to think.
And then Chad was inside her, and the world spun away.
CHAPTER TEN
Jessica ran her fingers through her tousled hair.
The ends curled lightly around her fingers, clean and smooth from being washed yesterday morning with a tiny sliver of soap she’d dredged out of the bottom of Chad’s backpack.
She tucked her hair behind her ears and then brought it forward again. It needed cutting, she thought idly, wondering how it looked at this length.
It was strange, not knowing what you looked like after ten days. Maybe it was better not to know when you had no makeup and only an exceedingly odd assortment of clothing to wear.
She buttoned her blouse and then slipped a sweater over her head. Chad said she looked beautiful but then, he might be just a bit prejudiced. He liked her hair this way, he had said, and she’d laughed and said she liked his beard.
Sometime during the long, dark night, she’d been awakened by the gentle rasp of his face against hers. The feeling had made her shiver with pleasure.
Chad had felt her tremble in his arms and he’d whispered her name and shifted lower in their cocoon of blankets, and they'd made love again and again.
They had been lovers for five nights—and five days, she thought, recalling the long, lazy hours they’d spent before the fireplace while a light snow fell outside.
Lying in his arms, loving each other with words as well as with their bodies, had brought their relationship a level of intimacy she’d never dreamed possible.
She knew more about him than she had ever known about anyone. When she kissed his beard-roughened face, she was not just kissing Chad O’Bryan, the man—she was also kissing the little boy who had cried for days when his pony broke its leg in a chuckhole. And he knew things about her no one else knew. Little things, like how she’d despaired on her tenth birthday when she came down with the chicken pox and how her mother had gone ahead with her party anyway, holding it in the back yard, just outside her bedroom window, and how good she’d felt when she saw all the kids just outside the glass.
The long days and nights seemed to encourage an exchange of half-forgotten stories and honest feelings. There was no need for the kind of superficial chitchat that often passed for conversation back in the city.
She had never been very good at that kind of thing anyway; sometimes, standing around at one of the agency’s parties, she played a silent little game, trying to decide if the next man who approached her would talk first about the newest political scandal or the latest foreign film.
She and Chad talked about silly things, too. They laughed at the same jokes, believed in the same world-wide concerns…
But they had differences between them, ones that were reminders of the different worlds from which they came.
The different worlds to which they would return.
There'd been a vivid reminder of that, yesterday.
They'd gone for a walk.
It was late; the sun was setting over the mountains, turning them to purple, and lilac.
Suddenly, dark brown smudges had appeared at the end of Main Street, vivid against the snow.
‘Chad, look,’ she’d whispered, deer! Aren’t they beautiful?’
‘Yes, they are.’ They’d watched the graceful animals for a few minutes and then he cupped her shoulders and turned her toward him. "Go back into the cabin, Jessie.'
'Why? Where are you going?'
‘I want to get a closer look at the track those deer use.’ She’d looked at him questioningly and finally he'd taken her hands in his. ‘Winter’s coming on more quickly than I’d expected,’ he said softly. ‘And that means we’re going to need meat soon.’
‘But we have meat. The fish, I mean. You said there are plenty of them in the creek.’
He shook his head. ‘The creek’s going to freeze over completely before long. That’s going to make it harder to catch anything. Besides, fish don’t provide enough fat.’ He drew her to him and slipped his arms around her. ‘Winters are pretty grim here, Jess. We’d never make it eating nothing but trout.’
He was right. She knew he was and she knew her reaction to the thought of killing the deer was illogical.
Still, her eyes skidded past him to the window and to the animals.
‘I understand,’ she said slowly. ‘But those poor deer...’
‘You don’t understand,’ he said roughly. ‘I’m not going to let us die.’
Her eyes met his. ‘I don’t want to die. But—'
'Then start being a realist.’
She looked at him. 'That's not fair. I am a realist.'
‘No,’ he said sharply, ‘you aren't. The deer upset you, but that commercial your agency was supposed to film at Eagle Lake didn’t.’
She had drawn back, startled by the roughness in his voice. ‘What are you talking about? That was a commercial for coats ... Her words had trailed off like smoke. ‘Fur coats,’ she'd said, and shuddered. ‘I—I guess I never thought of it that way before.’
‘If you take an animal as part of the food chain, you’re only doing what every other creature on this planet does to survive. And we are going to survive. I swear it.'
Jessica sighed and added some wood to the fire. She was convinced Chad would, indeed, get them out of the mountains.
He was the most determined man she’d ever known. And yet, and yet...
She bent down and stirred the fire with a stick until the flames sprang up again.
She had almost told him she had no desire to leave Coleman’s Creek.
Of course, she hadn’t said it—it was a crazy thought. She had a life and a career to go back to. So did he. He’d talked about how much he wanted his grant to come through. If it did, he’d be able to go to Alaska for another six months and study his wolf pack, and she’d probably never see him again.
Unless he asked her to go with him, she thought suddenly. Unless he asked and she said yes...
‘That’s crazy, Jessica Howard,’ she mur
mured aloud. ‘Crazy ...’
The door swung open and cold air swirled into the cabin. Chad came into the room laughing, stamping snow from his feet. ‘A little strange, OK. But never crazy, Jessie.’
She smiled as she crossed the room towards him. ‘I was just telling myself you’d get here eventually and that I wouldn’t have to eat the empty skillet for breakfast.’
‘Breakfast wasn’t terribly co-operative this morning,’ he said with a quick grin. ‘It took a while to come up with bacon and eggs for two, but here it is, all cleaned and ready to cook.’
‘Good,’ she said, carefully taking the fish from him with two fingers. ‘That’s just the way I buy bacon and eggs at the market.’
‘Is the tea ready? I’m freezing.’
‘It’s ready, master,’ Jessica said, laying the trout in the skillet and shoving it into the hot coals at the rear of the hearth. ‘I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.’
His arms slipped around her waist and she leaned back against him.
‘Aren't you glad I taught you the treatment for hypothermia?’
Jessica laughed. ‘You’re insufferable,’ she said.
‘I’m just trying to teach you everything I know about survival. And I’ve been told that I’m a pretty fair teacher.’
‘Where’s your modesty?’ she teased.
Chad grinned and turned her in his arms. ‘I meant a real teacher.’
‘Sure,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘What did you teach? ABCs to wolves?’
‘Biology, Miss Howard. To freshmen and sophomores at NYU.’
‘New York University? In Manhattan?’ He nodded and she tilted her head to one side. ‘Really?'
‘Sure. Didn’t I tell you I’d done some teaching between grants? NYU was one of the places that liked me a lot. Told me they’d take me back if ever I decided I wanted to make a career out of teaching.’ He grinned at her. ‘Surprised?’
‘Jessica shook her head. Surprised wasn’t the right word, she thought. Delighted, was more like it. Thrilled, maybe or, heck, ecstatic!
Her cowboy didn’t have to ride off into the Alaskan sunset after all
. ‘Are you telling me you can get a job teaching right in New York? Why, that’s wonderful.’
‘It would be if I wanted it. I’ll probably take it if my grant doesn’t come through but, God, I hate the thought. Stuffy lecture halls, crowded classrooms, schedules to meet...’
‘But it’s a good school, isn’t it?’
‘Sure, it’s a terrific school. But I don’t like the idea of spending my life in a classroom. Besides, I have a better idea. If I get my grant...’
‘Your grant,’ she said slowly. ‘You mean, you’d rather go to Alaska.’
‘Of course.’
She felt an unreasoning anger flush her cheeks.
‘Well, then, I hope it comes through,’ she said stiffly, moving out of his arms.
Chad reached for her. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘what did I do?’
‘Breakfast's ready.’
‘Wait a minute…’
‘It’s more than ready. As a matter of fact, it’s charred. Sit down,’ she said, setting the skillet on the table. ‘I’ll get the tea.’
Chad watched her as she crossed the floor. ‘Are you ticked because I said I want that grant?'
‘Angry? Why should I be angry?’
‘I told you I prefer field work. The guys in the classrooms are doing an important job, but they can only teach what somebody else discovers.’ He pulled the stool closer to the table and sat down. ‘I didn’t become a wildlife biologist because I like test tubes and chalk, Jess. Don’t you understand?’
Jessica sat opposite him and stared at the charred trout. Yes, she understood. What had got into her, anyway? Chad was a maverick; she’d known that from the start. He wasn’t about to give up a life he loved for her. If he did, the cowboy she’d fallen in love with would disappear under layers of tweedy academia.
Suddenly, it all seemed so simple.
She’d had the same crazy thought before, but she’d shoved it aside.
But what was so crazy about it? His career was established; hers hadn’t really begun yet. It was a lot easier for her to walk away from New York than it would be for him to walk away from his work.
Besides, where she spent her life wasn’t half as important as who she spent it with. All she needed was Chad. Her fork clattered to the table and she took a deep breath.
‘Chad, listen. I’ve been thinking about Alaska ...’
'It’s more than Alaska,’ he said. She looked at him as if he’d just said something in Greek. ‘There are lots of places I want to see, other animals I want to study. Wild dogs, for instance. Jackals ...’
‘Jackals,’ she said tonelessly.
‘Yeah. I spent my senior year on internship in Africa with Ian Douglas. He was doing a study of lions ...’
Jessica shoved her chair back from the table and got to her feet. ‘Africa,’ she repeated evenly. ‘Not Alaska.’
A bewildered expression settled on Chad’s face. ‘No, of course not. Anyway, I did some preliminary work on jackals. In fact, when Douglas asked me to go to Brazil.’
He jumped as she slammed the kettle on the table.
‘Sorry,’ she said stiffly. ‘It must have slipped. Let me get this straight, Chad. You went to Brazil and Africa ...’
‘Well, I hadn’t decided the area I wanted to investigate for my Master’s thesis, so I went along with him. He was doing a study on jaguars. And then I decided to do my work on wolves ...’
‘And that’s when you went to Alaska.’
He shook his head. ‘Actually, I went to Isle St Royale first.’ Chad's eyes sought hers. ‘Damn it, stop looking at me that way!’
‘What way?’ she asked, amazed at the calmness of her voice.
‘The way you looked at me on the plane,’ he said roughly. ‘As if I were some other form of life. Look, I’m trying my damnedest to tell you something. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you’re making it hard as hell.’
There was something in his voice, a twisted, rough edge.
That same rough edge was in her heart.
Of course, he was trying to tell her something! Did he think she was dense? Reality lay beyond Coleman’s Creek—that’s what he was telling her.
Dream with me, he’d said, and she had…. Except, dreams weren’t real, not even if you wanted them to be with all your heart and soul.
What was real was that their dream hadn’t ended yet.
And she would hang on to it as long as the world let her.
‘I know what you’re trying to tell me,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to spell it out.’
‘But we’ve got to talk about what happens after we get out of here, Jessie. I want you to understand ...’
She shook her head and laid her fingers lightly across his mouth.
‘I do,’ she said quickly, lying for him, for her, for how many days they had left together. ‘I know we have no future."
'Jessie—'
'I could no more live in your world than you could live in mine.’
He caught her hand in both of his. ‘Do you mean that?’ he demanded.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Of course. This is all—it's just a dream. Fun.'
'Fun,' he said flatly.
She nodded. 'It's wonderful, but…'
Her softly spoken words were drowned out by a sudden roaring noise that made the walls tremble.
Jessica’s eyes widened with fright. ‘What was that?’
Chad stared at her and then he took a deep breath. ‘It’s a helicopter,’ he said tonelessly. ‘They’ve found us.’
This was the moment she'd longed for…
Then, where was the jubilation? Where was the sense of relief? Why was she suddenly blinking back tears?
Chad’s hands tightened on hers. ‘Jessie,’ he said thickly, ‘Jessie ...’
There was a tightness in her throat. She wanted to tell him she lo
ved him, that she couldn't imagine living without him…
Instead, she forced a smile, pulled her hand free of his and fought to keep her tears from spilling down her cheeks.
‘Damn it,’ he said, ‘Damn it, Jess…'
He pulled her to him and kissed her. She tasted tears. His? Hers? It didn't matter.
All that mattered was watching him stride to the door and fling it open, as the helicopter settled down slowly on Main Street.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Forty stories above Manhattan’s streets, the sounds of traffic are barely audible.
The snarling cars and trucks below, the hurrying pedestrians, all seem to be performers in some great pantomime.
On a day in October, a day of bright leaves and warm sun, Jessica Howard pressed her forehead against her office window and stared down at the street.
Plane trees still festooned with clutches of golden autumn leaves fought bravely against the grey efficiency of the city.
Jessica sighed.
It would be so nice to be able to open the window, she thought wistfully, so nice to smell the trees and the Indian summer air instead of the machine cooled and filtered stuff pumping through ventilating louvers in the ceiling.
It was ridiculous to seal windows this way. Chad would have said...
She turned away abruptly and walked across her tiny office. Ten o’clock, she thought, glancing at her watch, and she hadn’t done a thing about the report on her desk even though she had a meeting with a client in less than two hours.
As for the window… even if it could be opened, there wouldn’t be much to smell besides automobile exhaust fumes. That was one of the things Chad had said about New York...
Damn! She stopped in mid-stride and frowned. What had she done with the survey results that went with the report? Buried them in the filing cabinet, most probably, because there wasn’t a drawer or a cubby-hole in the desk, or what Allen Associates insisted on calling a desk.
Actually, it was a glass and chrome table. Chad would have laughed at the idea of passing off something with no drawers as a desk, just as he’d have laughed at calling this oversized cupboard an office...
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Jessica said loudly, slamming the top drawer of the filing cabinet closed.
Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set Page 14