Stella looked up worriedly when Storm entered.
“What’s wrong, Stella?” she asked, hanging up her coat.
“It’s Oscelot, honey. He just radioed in with engine trouble.”
Storm frowned. “Again?”
“What do you mean again?” Dan Bradford demanded to know as he walked into the room.
Storm turned. “When I was flying in last night, the oil gauge dropped on the Aztec’s starboard engine. Jim said the plane had just undergone inspection.”
Dan shook his gray head and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I sure don’t want to blame Charlie and Rex, the mechanics. They’ve been with me since the beginning. Their work is impeccable,” he muttered. He shuffled off to the other side of the room to watch the air-traffic flow patterns around the airport.
Storm glanced at Stella. “Where’s Jim?” she asked.
“In the control tower. Oscelot’s plane lost all inside power. His aircraft has no cabin electricity. This is awful.”
Storm nodded, moistening her lips. “Things always happen in threes.”
“What?”
“I said things always happen in threes. First the oil pressure on my plane and now Oscelot’s. I wonder who’s next.”
“Don’t talk like that, honey!” Stella ordered. “With bad weather lurking just around the corner and us flying out the bulk of the hunters now, we don’t need a third problem!”
Storm was scheduled to fly within an hour. As much as she wanted to be with Jim, she knew she had to check out her plane. She drove to the hangar, firmly determined to go over the aircraft in minute detail to make doubly sure nothing was wrong with it. The hangar was empty, and her steps echoed eerily. The other company-owned Aztec stood gracefully in the center, its red-and-white surface gleaming dully in the dim lights. Indistinct shadows crisscrossed the area above her head.
Running her fingertips skillfully across the wing elevators, tail rudder and other assembly points, Storm missed nothing. She stood with her hands on her hips as she critically surveyed the engines beneath the gleaming cowl covers. Slipping her hand over the slick expanse, she gave the plane a final pat and then boarded.
In the cockpit, the silence deepened. She looked up, feeling as if something were missing but not knowing what. Perhaps it was the unusual silence. Usually Rex puttered around the hangar or Charlie was there to guide her out with hand signals. Now even the distant roar of a jet taking off sounded muted.
As Storm flipped on the ignition, her thoughts lingered on Oscelot. She knew from experience that a plane without power was dangerous but not critical. Without working electrical circuits, the retractable landing gear would have to be cranked down manually. There would be no light to tell Oscelot that the gear was locked in place. He could only pray that it didn’t fold up under him on landing. Dan would have trucks stationed along the runway and foam laid out to prevent fire-causing sparks in case the landing gear failed and the plane landed on its belly.
Storm’s stomach churned threateningly, and she paused, resting the clipboard on her lap. A wave of nausea hit her, and she closed her eyes.
Taking a steadying breath, she concentrated on her tasks. Maybe she should have eaten something before taking off for Camp Two. Well, it was a short jaunt, and the hunters were sure to have food left after their week in the interior. She would get a candy bar or something from them.
Suddenly, she felt extremely alone. Her overwhelming desire to have Jim in the copilot’s seat was almost unbearable. She could no longer deny the longings of her heart, and she looked up, gazing forlornly across the empty tarmac toward the tower.
It was late afternoon by the time Storm returned to Anchorage with the hunters. This time she paid more attention to the dials and gauges, dreading the possibility of a third accident. Some soda crackers given to her by one of the hunters had helped to quell her continuing nausea.
She brightened as she saw Jim waiting out on the apron for her as she taxied the Aztec in from the runway. She waved, and he waved back, although his face was dark with concern. Storm wondered if Oscelot had made it safely into the airport.
As the hunters deplaned, jubilant because they had bagged a huge elk, Jim climbed aboard. He smiled tightly and sat down in the copilot’s seat.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“If you’re asking about the plane’s performance, fine.” She pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and leaned back in the seat.
“Good. How about you? You look pale as hell.”
She grimaced. “Thank you very much,” she replied sarcastically. “I feel rotten.”
Jim’s hands massaged her shoulders and she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning forward to rest her cheek against him. “If I give you a compliment,” he said, a tinge of humor in his voice, “you’ll think I’ve got ulterior motives.”
Storm opened her eyes to gaze into his handsome, relaxed features. “I had that coming, didn’t I?”
“Well, it’s been a hell of a day. I wanted to say you look absolutely beautiful, pale or not. By the way, Oscelot made it down okay.”
“Thank God.” Storm sat up and Jim’s hands slipped down to imprison her fingers. “Jim, this worries me. Two planes in two days. I’ve been here long enough to know that our mechanics don’t do slipshod work.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just bad luck.” He gave a short laugh. “And now, from the look of things, you’re coming down with the flu.”
“Probably. It hit me around noon. Just nausea off and on all day.”
He placed his hand on her forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you’re running a temperature.”
Storm shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the strain, Jim.” She colored slightly. “Look, about last night. It’s my turn to apologize.” She stole a look up into his gray eyes, and they melted her soul. “I’m still not completely over the bad effects of my marriage, Jim. Jack ingrained in me the idea that everyone has an angle—everyone wants something for himself. I’ve been mistrustful ever since. I thought I’d gotten better about it, but last night it surfaced once again.”
“I’m glad you told me,” he said huskily, his gaze hungrily assessing her features. “Because I want us to know each other in every way, Storm. And that means more than making love to you.” He caressed her cheek tenderly. “Although that thought keeps crossing my mind whether I’m with you or not.”
She lowered her gaze. “I—I feel the same way, Jim. It’s very hard,” she confessed, “to trust my feelings again.”
“Well,” he said softly, “only fifteen more days of this mad rush and then we’ll have all the time we need.” He captured her face between his hands. “Let’s understand one thing. I’m not after your job anymore. I don’t like your flying because I worry every second you’re out of my sight. I worry because of what happened to Heather. Storm, I’m caught up in the past just as much as you are.” His look was long and searching.
The prick of tears startled her, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me, lately. I get so emotional….” she whispered brokenly.
He embraced her tightly, and kissed her cheek. “It’s becoming, believe me. Here, let me help you with the post-flight check, and then let’s go to dinner.”
She grimaced, pulling away. “Food? Ugh. Can I take a rain check on it, Jim? All I want to do is crawl into a hot tub and then into bed. I think I need twelve hours of sleep to make up for the last few days.”
He agreed grimly. “They haven’t exactly been uneventful days, have they?”
For the next three days, Storm worked relentlessly, ferrying hunters from Anchorage to Seattle. Every day about noon the queasy feeling reoccurred. Every bump or air pocket the aircraft hit increased her agitation, and she began to keep a bag close by, just in case.
She saw little of Jim. With Danziger gone, everyone’s load had been increased. All she did was fly, sleep and nibble on crackers. Already she’d lost at le
ast five pounds. Well, that was one way to diet.
On the third day, the jewel-like lights of Anchorage were a welcome sight as she brought the Aztec around for the final approach to the airport. It was nearly one-thirty in the morning, and she knew that, as much as she wished Jim were waiting for her at the office, he would be home sleeping, like every other exhausted pilot.
She taxied the Aztec into the hangar, hitting the left rudder hard and revving up the starboard engine to point the plane toward the doors. As the lights from the undercarriage flashed across the hangar, Storm caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She must be seeing things. Being sick and tired didn’t make for good vision, she thought dully.
The post-flight check took longer than usual because she was tired. Finally, she left the plane, locking the hatch door behind her. Picking up her traveling bag, she walked slowly toward the side door. Only a few lights were on, just enough to break the gloom of total darkness. The hollow ring of her shoes on the concrete echoed off the walls, sounding even sharper in the cold.
For no particular reason Storm felt uneasy. She turned once to look around. Had she sensed a movement? No, it must have been her imagination. Shaking her head, she walked to the main building.
She was finishing her work in the office when a car pulled up outside. Jim appeared at the office door, looking as if he had just woken up. He gave her a brief smile of welcome.
“Mind if I use an old cliché and tell you you’re a sight for sore eyes?” he asked.
She smiled, dropping her pen. “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” she cried, running around the desk, into his arms. His mouth brushed her waiting lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His musky scent washed over her, heightening her desire to be near him. She pressed her body against him, and he groaned.
“Lord,” he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much, Storm.”
She kissed his strong jaw, cheek and mouth with unabashed joy, then hugged him fiercely. “I’ve had a lot of time to think,” she answered breathlessly, her eyes glowing with happiness.
“I think of you all the time,” he replied. “Twenty-five hours a day.” He leaned down, brushing his cheek against her hair. “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
“But—”
He kissed her soundly. “No buts.”
She giggled. “But I have to leave here by 8:00 a.m. to fly to Camp Seven tomorrow.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and picked up her shoulder bag. “Correction. There’s been a schedule change. You and I will fly that run tomorrow morning, so there’s no reason why you can’t stay with me tonight.” He looked at her warmly. “I decided that waiting to see you until this rush is over is for the birds. Are you game?”
Storm smiled back. “Yes,” she answered softly, “I’m game. It will be nice to have some company for once on that long haul over the mountain range. But tomorrow was supposed to be your day off.”
“What’s a day off without you? Can you put up with me?”
“I think so. I’m going to try very hard not to jump to conclusions and start an argument.”
Jim opened the door for her. “I’ll be on good behavior, too. Hungry?”
Storm shook her head. “Not in the least.”
He glanced at her with concern as they slid into the front seat of the car. “That’s a funny kind of flu you have. Most viruses don’t last that long.”
She relaxed against the seat. “Maybe it’s a new strain,” she replied absently, closing her eyes.
The fire cast a flickering glow across the living room as Storm walked in, knotting the terry-cloth sash of the robe—his robe—she was wearing. A hot shower had washed away some of her exhaustion. She knelt down beside Jim on the bearskin rug and took the glass of rosé offered. She swirled the pink contents around. “Such a delicate color,” she murmured, taking a small sip.
Jim reached up, his thumb tracing the outline of her jaw and slender throat. “Like you, Irish storm goddess. You’re more delicate than a gyroscope.”
Storm grinned recklessly at the strange comparison. “I suppose you consider that a big compliment?”
“Of course. From one pilot to another, that is,” he added, massaging her shoulders in a lazy motion.
Storm sighed and closed her eyes. “How did you know my shoulder muscles were so tight?”
“You’re tense all over.”
She set her glass down and fitted her body against him, laying her head on his broad shoulder. “I’m so glad we don’t have much longer on this schedule. I’m so tired.”
He nodded, nudging the robe away from her neck, continuing to coax the tenseness out of her body. “A few more days and it will be all over, and then we can get ready for the first major storms of the year.”
The tightness in Storm’s back melted away under his experienced hands. The closeness between them was new and wonderful to her. She had never spent time like this with Jack. He’d always had a list of things for her to do, and she always dropped into bed late at night, numb from work.
How much of life she had missed! How much more Jim could teach her, share with her. Her heart ached with love for him, and she lifted her lips, finding his mouth and kissing him tentatively.
His reaction was swift and satisfying to her fragile confidence. The crush of his arms took her breath away. His mouth, so strong and male, plundered her lips in a dizzying, searching kiss. He laid her gently down on the rug, her copper hair a flaming contrast to the pure white fur. His eyes glittered with barely restrained passion as he leaned across her, his hand resting near her waist. Storm closed her eyes as she felt the caress of his mouth against her neck, and her pulse leaped crazily.
His unhurried movements urged Storm into becoming a willing partner, and she began to unbutton his shirt, moving her fingers slowly over the dark hair that covered his broad chest. The feel of his muscles thrilled her as she continued to explore, her fingers running lightly down his chest to his lean waist and stomach. Jim groaned as his hand caressed the side of her breast. Storm gasped, her eyes widening with the unexpected pleasure as her skin tingled from his knowing touch.
He pulled the coarse terry-cloth robe away from her shoulders. Cool air touched her heated body and a happy sound came from her throat as his mouth brushed her taut breasts. Instinctively, she pulled his lips down on the hardening peaks. The last vestiges of her inhibitions melted in a fiery passion.
“You’re mine,” he growled thickly. “Always, Storm. We were meant for each other.”
The words, sweet ecstasy to her ears, heightened her need for him. Each kiss ignited a new fire within her and she ached to be ever closer to him, to feel him deep within her. A thousand swirling sensations triggered a new urgency as she felt his weight descend on her. The roughness of his chest hair against her ripe breasts, the heat of his tongue capturing hers, his hard male strength barely held in check against her damp thighs. His knee parted them and she arched upward, hungry to be one with him.
A small cry bubbled from her throat as he entered her. He was taking her into a spiraling flight of soaring passion ignited by an untamed desire she had never known she could feel. The world, the night and they became one scintillating, whirling pattern of flight into spheres of pleasure that made her sob with joy and a sense of completeness.
He kissed her tears away, keeping her locked in a tight embrace afterward.
“Why the tears?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
“Tears of joy, of trust and relief that I can love fully,” she whispered.
Gently, Jim wiped her cheeks with his fingers. He rose up on one elbow, drinking in her every feature.
“We’ve shared everything, Storm,” he said quietly.” Our tears of grief and now of happiness. You’re like an unchained eagle flying the very limits of the sky….”
She shivered within his arms, nuzzling his neck and shoulder.
“An eagle,” she said wistfully. “What a beautiful picture.”
He caressed her naked
shoulder and arm, the firelight casting dancing shadows over them. “Have you ever seen two eagles mate?”
“No,” she said, her voice still wispy.
“Up here in Alaska, you can see them sometimes. What an exhilarating experience. They fly to ten thousand feet and then lock claws and tumble earthward in a beautiful circular free fall.” He smiled. “It’s quite a spectacle. We’ll see it together sometime.”
Storm smiled lazily, content to languish in his arms. “I don’t need to see it now, darling. I feel like I’ve just experienced it.”
Jim leaned down and kissed her tenderly. “I’ll never forget tonight, this moment, as long as I live.” He studied her in silence, as if imprinting her features on his mind. “I meant it, Storm. I want you forever…. I can’t live without you. I love you so damn much, it hurts.”
Tears jammed into her eyes. “I love you so much,” she whispered, a catch in her voice, embracing him. He laughed as he held her close.
“I propose, and all I get are tears,” he murmured wryly. “Is that a qualified yes or no, honey?”
Storm managed to sit up and still remain within his arms. “Can you put up with my defensiveness until I grow out of it completely?” she asked.
“If you can put up with my worrying myself silly when you have to fly alone during bad weather.”
Storm managed a soft laugh. “What a pair we are! The risk taker and the worrywart.”
“We’ll manage,” Jim growled. He stood and picked Storm up in his arms, taking her to the bedroom. Jim gently deposited her on the cool, crisp sheets, then slid in beside her, pulling up the covers. Her hair lay in disarray across the pillow and his shoulder as he brought her against his naked body.
“We have a lot more talking to do,” he said, kissing her cheek, nose and finally, brushing her lips. “And we’ll have the time to do it. Let’s take each day as it comes and enjoy it to the fullest. Now, get some sleep, or in a few more minutes I’ll refuse to be held accountable for my actions.”
Untamed Desire Page 11