“Ahh. If I were organized, I’d have the cartridges here, but it won’t take you long,” Stella chortled.
Storm joined her laughter. Knowing Stella’s methods of organization, she conceded it would take at least five minutes of rummaging even to find the supplies in that messy back room.
It actually took her twenty minutes. Gripping the small box of cartridges in her right hand, she began threading her way back down the poorly lit hallway. Immediately, voices drifted within earshot, and Storm slowed her steps. She recognized Jim Talbot’s voice, and her heartbeat skyrocketed. He was almost shouting at Dan Bradford. She came to a halt as their words became distinguishable.
“Stella, go to lunch. Jim and I have something important to discuss.”
“Sure, Mr. Bradford.” ‘There were a few moments of awkward silence. Storm sensed the tension within the office and hesitated, unsure whether or not to make her presence known.
“I want her out,” came Jim’s voice.
“You’d better have a good reason, Jim.”
“She can’t take the grind.”
“Oh? Stella was just showing me the mission’s report. I’d say you’re putting a lot of undue stress on the lady, wouldn’t you?”
“I happen to think she can’t take it. Dan, we’ve got eight more weeks of this kind of pressure.”
“Has she been late for any flights?” Dan cut in smoothly.
“No.”
“Any complaints from the people she’s flown to or from camps?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and Storm caught the edge of anger in Jim’s answer. “No, dammit. Look, Dan, I happen to pride myself on being able to judge people accurately. I’ve proven this to you before on several occasions when you thought we had the right pilot and I said no. And every time I was right.”
“Yes, that’s true. You were right.” There was a lengthening silence, and Storm clutched the box to her chest, her heart hammering in her ears. She pressed her lips tightly together.
“Jim,” Dan said softly, “I think your judgment is being influenced by something else. Storm reminds you of Heather.”
The silence between them became unbearable, and Storm froze, afraid to make a move. Who was Heather? Her mind whirled in confusion. Had Heather been another woman pilot who hadn’t been able to fulfill the demanding tasks set for her by Jim?
“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Jim finally replied in a low voice, taut with anger.
“Why not? She was my daughter.”
“She was my wife!”
Storm gasped in surprise. Jim’s wife! She hadn’t even known he’d been married. And where was Heather now?
“Storm is like Heather in many ways,” Dan continued. “In her talent for flying and in her special confidence.”
“That’s what got Heather killed!” Jim exploded violently.
‘Take it easy, Jim. We both know it was a freak snowstorm, not her flying ability, that was responsible.”
Storm heard someone pacing the length of the room, and she hugged the wall, trying to tame her anxiety. Jim had been married. To Dan Bradford’s daughter! Somehow, she just couldn’t assimilate that. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. No wonder Jim wanted her out of the company! And suddenly another, even more terrifying reality washed over her. He must care about her strongly to be reacting so heatedly to Dan Bradford’s accusations. She closed her eyes. Her temples began pounding as she considered the situation.
“Now, look,” Dan Bradford said soothingly. “I need Storm too much to let her go just because she’s causing you pain. Try to let go of the past, Jim. I know how much you loved Heather. We both loved her deeply. But a woman—and especially Storm—can handle this job the same as a man.”
Again silence fell between them, and finally Storm heard footsteps. A door opened.
“Is that your final decision, Dan?”
“Yes, it is. Storm stays.”
“You’re forgetting she has another two months of probation left with the company.”
“That’s right. And unless something drastic happens between now and then, I’m sure she’ll pass the test. Look, Jim, she’s a fine pilot. Why not give her half a chance to prove it? Search your conscience. Just because she reminds you of Heather is no reason to fire her.”
The door closed, and Storm waited. Then she heard Dan sigh heavily and trudge off toward his own office. She waited another five minutes before timidly emerging. Placing the cartridges on Stella’s desk, she slipped into her fur-lined parka, and picked up the flight plan, and walked out the door toward the control tower.
Storm dropped off a family of three at Camp Four at the base of the Talkeetna mountain range, where they planned to fish for brown trout. The boy, a pallid youngster of five, had looked unhappy, and as Storm went mechanically through the post-flight checklist, she also rechecked the family’s medical history. Louise Callings poked her head inside the cabin.
“Well, I think we have everything, Storm. You’ll be dropping off our supplies in three days?”
“Yes. Is your son, Bobby, all right? He looks a little peaked.”
Louise pushed a strand of black hair off her broad, attractive face. “He just got over the flu a few days ago, and I don’t think all this traveling has helped his recovery.” She bit her lip, then added, “I tried to talk Frank into waiting a few more days, but…” She brightened. “Well, you know fishermen. When the big ones are waiting for them, they just pray everything else will fall into place.”
Storm sensed her disquiet. “Why don’t you let me give you some aspirin for Bobby? Just in case he starts running a slight fever.”
Louise seemed relieved at the suggestion. “Yes, that would be wonderful, Storm.” She leaned forward, touching her arm. “Thanks. I’m so glad you’re a woman! Men just don’t understand our worries.”
Storm’s spirit was buoyed by Louise, but as she flew back to Anchorage, some of her anxiety over this morning’s conversation between Jim and Dan returned. Dan had said she could stay. Now all she had to do was continue to perform well and try to ignore Jim’s attitude. Her heart squeezed in anguish as she realized that would be impossible. As she taxied back to the flight line, her concern increased. The only time she could forget her problem was when she was up in the royal blue Alaskan skies.
The pit of her stomach churned as she saw Jim Talbot standing at the desk in the front office. Storm slowed her steps, hoping he would leave by the time she got there. Stella looked up and smiled broadly as Storm entered. Jim glanced over his shoulder, scowling.
“Well, is the Callings family all settled in for the duration?” Stella asked cheerfully.
Storm nodded, putting the paperwork in Stella’s hands, trying hard to ignore Jim’s presence.
“Yes,” she replied tentatively, taking another sheaf of papers and distractedly beginning to fill them out.
“You sound worried,” Jim commented. He turned toward her, his eyes pinning her in silent appraisal.
Storm opened her mouth and then closed it. She was behaving like an unsure teenager! She licked her lips and then said, “It’s their boy, Bobby. He’s still recovering from a case of the flu. My personal opinion is that they should have waited a while longer before bringing him out here.”
Even to her own ears she sounded defensive, peevish. Her anger at him was tingeing her tone of voice, despite her efforts to control it. He was so devastatingly handsome, so disturbing to her in every way. It hurt her to realize he didn’t want her around.
Storm abruptly turned away, took the papers she was working on over to a chair and sat down, filling them out. As she handed them back to Stella, Jim said directly behind her, “Take the rest of the day off, Storm. I’ll get Danziger to take your last flight. You look tired.”
Storm turned slowly, trying to assess his unreadable features. Her hands felt wet with perspiration, but she forced her voice to remain even. “No, thanks,” she answered coldly, “I’ll carry my part of the load.�
��
Jim studied her for a long moment, his mouth thinning with displeasure. The tension between them increased with intensity. Stella meekly excused herself and left the two of them alone.
“I’m not asking you to do it,” Jim finally said. “I’m telling you.”
Storm’s blue eyes narrowed with frustration. “Why? So you can mark down on my sheet that I was too tired to complete my rounds and use that as an excuse to get me fired? No, thanks, Talbot. I’ll handle all my assignments like a big girl.”
She started to walk past him, but he reached out, swinging her around to face him. “What’s gotten into you?” he growled, releasing her arm.
“You!” she said. “And your wanting to get rid of me.” She was actually trembling now. “And don’t deny it. I heard you and Dan arguing this morning.”
His gray eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, and Storm took a step back, feeling suddenly vulnerable in the face of his anger. She could not afford to feel that way. “You heard Dan and me talking?” he whispered tightly.
“Yes. Believe me, I wish I didn’t, but I did. I went to the supply room to get Stella some printer cartridge ribbons and when I came out you were arguing. About me.
Jim sighed softly. “You’re taking it the wrong way, Storm.”
She wanted to laugh, but was afraid it would come out as a strangled cry. Instead, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, boldly meeting his gaze. “How many ways can I take the fact that you want me out of this company?”
“You don’t understand, dammit!” he snarled, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.
Storm tried to wrench free, but his fingers burned into her tingling skin. “What’s there to understand? Now, let me go!”
Jim’s fingers tightened until finally she stood still. Then his hands relaxed, resting lightly on her. It was hard to remain coherent so close to him…. Storm could smell the male fragrance surrounding him, and it sent her senses spinning. She recalled with excruciating awareness the first time he had held her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to be crushed within his embrace. She wanted his strong mouth upon her lips. She moaned softly as clashing emotions flooded over her, leaving her defenseless within his grasp. On the one hand, she hated him, and on the other, she…
Storm inhaled sharply at the unfinished thought. Good heavens, was she falling in love with Jim Talbot? Her eyes widened as she considered the surprising possibility. He was looking down at her, his features contorted with what? Anguish? A thread of frustration spun through her. Why was he so devilishly hard to read?
“You don’t understand why I don’t want you working here,” he breathed savagely.
“Then you explain it to me!”
Jim swore softly and gave her a little shake. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“Great! Am I some child who’s too naive or stupid to understand an adult reason?”
He shook his head, his voice softening. “No, Storm. If I did tell you, you might run away.”
This was getting ridiculous. She was furious. “Run away?” she cried. “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense at all.”
Jim managed a half smile and touched her cheek in a wistful gesture. “My untamed storm goddess, when the time’s right, I’ll try to explain everything.”
She wasn’t soothed by his explanation, even though the mere touch of his hand sent a shiver through her tense body.
“Put yourself in my place, Jim,” she demanded. “How would you feel if I wanted you fired? And if, in the next moment, I told you I was firing you for reasons that were best left unknown to you.” Without another word, Storm pulled away and walked quickly out the back door toward her car. She had to get away from him!
She heard the door slam shut behind her and whirled around just as Jim reached out for her. “Don’t touch me!” she cried out, avoiding his hand.
He halted, breathing heavily. “That’s hard not to do. Will you listen to reason?”
“What reason? You’re the keeper of secrets, not me!”
The wind was picking up, and Storm shivered, drawing her coat more tightly around her. Jim pushed unruly strands of hair off his forehead as he stood looking down at her. Again that same unreadable expression shadowed his features. She felt utterly exhausted by their parrying.
“If you’d lose some of that chip on your shoulder, you’d be easier to talk with, Storm.”
“Well, if you’d stop trying to take my job away from me, I might be a little less defensive.”
“Dammit, think a little bit, will you? I want you out of Bradford’s. But I want you here. In Anchorage!”
She gave him a perplexed look. “Why? I don’t understand. Why do you want me to stay in Anchorage but not work at Bradford’s?” Her voice was becoming scratchy with frustration.
“You don’t give a man any room at all, do you?” he accused.
“Room for what?”
She heard him growl, and in the next blinding instant she was in his arms. The moment she leaned against his hard, unyielding body, she felt like so much workable clay in his hands. A small cry of desperation broke from her lips, and she made a feeble attempt to break free.
“Storm,” he whispered huskily, his lips claiming hers in an earth-shattering kiss. His mouth slid gently across her lips, parting, seeking entrance. Now his hands and mouth were telling her something she could understand completely. A moan of pleasure rose in her throat as his tongue slipped inside and she sagged against him, her knees nearly giving way beneath her.
She forgot time, place and all reason. The musky male scent of his body was a heady perfume. The roughness of his skin against her face sent shivers of pleasure throughout her. His mouth had captured her senses totally, until all sensations of anger were dissipated. Finally, he dragged his mouth from hers and studied her darkly. Her heart was beating in time with his own, and she could only stare up at him in wonder. Jack had never kissed her like this. Theirs had been a rival relationship in comparison to this one.
“Maybe I should show you more than tell you,” Jim whispered thickly. “At least you can’t confuse touching with words.” He smiled. “There’s so much I want to say to you, Storm. But I don’t think you could handle it all.” He leaned down, capturing her parted lips once again, gently kissing her for a long, long time. Finally, he raised his head.
“I care for you, Storm. I worry each time you fly.” He caressed her cheek, smiling sadly. “Be patient with me, will you?”
Her senses were disoriented, heightened to a point of excruciating awareness. His words confused her. She heard them, but they didn’t make sense. She frowned, thinking hard. “Worried…” she whispered. “About me? Why?”
He shook his head and embraced her tightly. “Somebody has to, storm goddess. Besides, I want to. All right?”
Gradually he untangled himself from her and held her at arm’s length. “Take the night off. That’s an order.”
For a moment Storm wasn’t sure she could stand up by herself. She gave him a searching look. “Jim, will we ever be able to say what we mean to each other? Will we always be misreading each other?”
He reached out, slipping his arm across her shoulders, then walking her slowly to her car. “We’ll get our signals straightened out,” he promised. “Right now we’re plowed under with work, and it’s a bad time to do anything except eat, catch a nap here and there and fly. Go home and get some rest. You don’t have a flight until eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, so sleep in.”
Storm did drive home, but it was a long time before she fell asleep.
Chapter Six
STORM GROANED AS the insistent ringing of the phone shattered her sleep. She rolled over and fumbled for the receiver on the nightstand. Groggily, she looked at the lighted face of the alarm clock: 2:10 a.m.?
“Yes?”
“Storm, this is Jim. We’ve got a medical emergency. Meet me at the office in fifteen minutes.”
She sat up, blinking away the last remna
nts of sleep. “I’ll be right there.”
Storm’s heart was pounding as she shoved on a pair of green coveralls. Not bothering to run a brush through her hair, she ran quickly for the front door. The cold night air hit her like a hammer as she took the stairs two at a time and crossed the roadway to her car.
The stars glimmered so brightly and seemed so close that she had an urge to reach out and touch them. She tried to recall if she was on standby for medical runs. Oscelot must be in Seattle, she decided.
Minutes later, she parked her car in the Bradford lot. She saw the Beaver moving up the taxiway toward the other building. Gripping her purse, she jogged to meet it. An icy blast of wind from the propeller made her cringe as she moved up to the rear entrance hatch and scrambled aboard. Jim turned, his eyes full of worry. Storm managed a grim smile. “Sleep in, huh?” she teased, dropping into the copilot’s seat. Jim pushed the throttles forward, and the plane surged down the flight lane at the maximum speed for taxiing. “Sorry. Oscelot wasn’t available, so you got drafted,” he explained.
Storm nodded, and began rummaging in her breast pocket for a pen. “Sounds like my old navy days.” No further exchange was necessary as she went through the preflight takeoff list with Jim. The instrument panel cast a greenish glow over the cabin as they busied themselves with their responsibilities as pilot and copilot.
Storm set the radio frequency and checked the chart to see what kind of emergency they were facing, as Jim ran the engines up at the end of the runway to complete the preflight check.
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
“What?”
“It’s Bobby.” She looked up, worry etched in her pale face. “The little boy with the flu. I knew he wasn’t well! I should have said something more to his mother. Oh, damn!”
Jim glanced over at her. “You can’t tell parents what to do. Don’t blame yourself.”
Storm slumped back in the seat and watched the night engulf them through the cockpit windows. The vibration of the engines provided a comforting hum. But being close to Jim was more comforting. “I think Louise knew her son wasn’t well,” she said. “I gave her some aspirin for him before I left.”
Untamed Desire Page 6