by Nancy Warren
So, she was foolish. Max wanted to play it cool. That was fine by her. But here they were on a rink, which, second to sitting in a cockpit in midair, was the place she felt most at ease. Was she good enough? Hah! She decided she was going to enjoy herself.
In Moscow at an international college championship she’d shot a puck that had been clocked at 80 mph. She said, “Let’s take it slow. I’ll try to keep up.”
Normally, she shot left, but she transferred her stick to the other hand, knowing that he was the one most likely to get hurt if she didn’t watch herself.
“Sure. What do you want to practice?”
“Let’s try some passing.”
“Okay.”
They started slowly with some soft passes, then they tried passing on the move and soon they were into hard passes, back passes, open-ice passes.
He wasn’t bad, she admitted to herself as she watched him move. He had the natural grace of a born athlete, was quick on his feet, with good skills and an easy way with the stick.
In spite of herself, she was impressed.
* * *
SHE WAS GOOD for a girl, Max thought, impressed in spite of himself. She skated smoothly, as though she’d been born on skates. Which, considering she’d grown up in Spruce Bay, was probably true. She was a little tentative shooting the puck and she sometimes stopped to scan the ice as though trying to figure out where he was and where the net was, but those were things that improved with practice.
And clearly, she liked to practice.
“What are you practicing for?” he asked, when they took a quick water break.
“I like the exercise,” she said as she skated by. “And for me shooting pucks is good stress relief. You?”
“I’m part of an emergency-services league team. I need to stay in shape. We want to win the championship game this year.”
“Since when is a pilot part of emergency services?”
“I’m also a reserve ambulance attendant. Two of my oldest friends play on the same league so they let me stay.”
“Sounds like fun.” She glanced at him. “So, you’ll need time off?”
“Yeah. But it’s months away. There’s lots of time.”
At the end of an hour they were both breathing heavily. She didn’t know when it had happened but slowly she’d let go of her control and he’d matched her. Now they were both putting a little effort into the practice and she was having fun.
When the clock showed it was eleven o’clock she realized the time had flown by. Usually by the end of practice she was fighting boredom.
Not tonight.
“That was fun,” she said.
“It was. And you are a hell of a lot better than ‘not bad.’ You could beat half the guys on my team.”
“Thanks.”
He skated up until he was standing in front of her, blocking her exit. “Want to go for a beer?”
“Is that what you do with your buddies after practice?” She removed her pink helmet, gave her head a shake so her ponytail settled down her back.
“Sometimes.”
She glared up at him. “I am not your buddy.”
Little puffs of white came out of her mouth as she said the words. She was still breathing fairly hard. This was the best workout she’d had in months.
“I know. But I can’t figure out what the hell you are. My coworker? My boss? My hockey practice partner?” He shook his head. “Not what I want you to be.” His eyes seemed to caress her face and she felt warmth all around her in spite of the cold rink.
Her heart jumped stupidly. “No?”
“No.”
There was a slight buzzing sound coming from the industrial lights above them, otherwise the world was cold and silent. She said, “What do you want me to be?”
He moved closer, so smooth on the ice she’d barely noticed. “I want to be your lover.”
Even as her heart skipped a beat, she said, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. You act like the other night never happened.”
She felt his gaze increase in intensity. “Oh, it happened. And it’s going to happen again.”
He wrapped one arm around her, pulled her closer and kissed her.
His lips were cold and he tasted of sweat, but she didn’t care. In seconds they were warm and as seductive as she remembered. A tiny sound came out of her throat and she slid forward, so close their skates touched. It had been so long since she’d felt this potent rush of want, need and passion that wouldn’t be denied. Her last relationship, with the dentist, had ended six months ago when he’d got a better offer and relocated to Minneapolis. She had missed him a little. They’d managed a few weekends together and then he’d asked her to move to be with him, and she knew then that she didn’t care enough about him to give up her life here in Spruce Bay. Frankly, she doubted she’d ever love a man enough to leave her home, her job and her family. Which made Max a tantalizingly attractive prospect.
He worked in her business, lived right on the property. Her grandmother would be thrilled.
Which was exactly why she had to be so careful.
That’s what her rational mind was thinking.
Her body was reminding her that she was a young, healthy woman and she hadn’t had sex in almost six months.
She pulled away from the sexiest mouth she had ever kissed. “I have to shower,” she said, knowing it ought to be a cold one.
Max flashed his killer grin. “Me, too. But I don’t want to let you go.”
“I’m not going far.”
He tilted his head to the side, arms still loosely wrapped around her. “Come back to my place?”
She shook her head. “Everybody in town would know by breakfast time tomorrow.”
“Then take me back to your place.”
She bit her lip, wishing she could, knowing she shouldn’t. “I can’t. The crew will figure it out right away.”
“No, they won’t. They’ll come to work in the morning and I’ll already be hard at it. They’ll think I’m a keener, a brown-noser. Not that I spent the night with you.”
She’d wanted to know that he still thought about her, still found her attractive. But now that he was suggesting a night in her bed she felt suddenly unsure.
He gazed at her evenly. “I’m not that guy, you know. The one who boasts about his conquests.”
Instinctively, she knew he was telling the truth. She shook her head. “It’s not that. I just—” She let out a breath that puffed like smoke in the cold rink. “It’s a small town. We work together. What if—”
He kissed her before she could finish the sentence. When he pulled away, he said, “What if you stop worrying so much about the future and think about enjoying the present.”
Oh, how she wanted to. She knew somehow that he’d be amazing in bed. It was the way he looked at her, as though he genuinely appreciated and enjoyed women. The way he moved, athletic and graceful. The way he kissed.
She was a young woman in her prime and she loved sex. Right now she was so hot she was grateful that the rink was cool enough to stop her from exploding on the spot.
Finally, she said, “I’m not ready.” And found, in spite of the incredibly strong attraction between them, that it was true. She wasn’t ready.
Instead of arguing, as she’d half expected him to, he said, “I understand. But, just so you know, I am so ready I can hardly stand it.”
She smiled, because she was flattered and horny and enjoying the feeling of being attracted to a man for the first time in a while.
He took off his right-hand glove, reached out and touched her face. “When you’re ready, all you have to do is lift a finger, an eyebrow, a strand of hair, and I’ll be there.”
She chuckled, thinking of all the times it got windy in Spruce Bay. “A strand of hair, huh?”
“Figuratively speaking,” he replied with dignity.
“Okay.”
“Go shower. I’ll meet you out front. At least let me walk you to your car.”
As they walked out together, he said, “Any more messages from your former manager?” He glanced pointedly at the spot where the word SLUT had been scrawled on the rear window of the Yukon Max’s first night in town.
“No. But he’s asked me to meet with him.”
Max’s brows rose. “Not his lawyer?”
“No. He wants a meeting with only the two of us.”
“Where and when?” He said the words sharply and she realized that Max was being protective again.
“I’m not stupid, Max. He’s coming to the office.”
“When?”
“Look, I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but I’ve been managing fine on my own. I’m grown up, independent and can handle one ex-employee without having to cast myself on your big chest for help.”
Instead of taking offense, he grinned, puffed out his chest in an exaggerated fashion and said, “You noticed.”
She laughed, but still didn’t give him the information he wanted.
“Okay,” he said. “But promise me if he gets out of line or you don’t like the way he’s talking to you that you’ll call me.”
“No. I won’t. If he in any way makes me uncomfortable I’ll call the sheriff. We’ve known Frank for years.” She felt regret pull at her. Frank had been part of Polar Air almost as long as she had. She couldn’t bear the thought that he’d stolen from them or that she might have to press charges against the man who’d been as much a family friend as an employee.
“Hey,” he said, as though reading her thoughts, “I’m sure it won’t come to anything.”
“Yeah.”
“You sure you won’t change your mind?” he asked as she opened the Yukon’s door.
She wavered, looking into those dark, sexy eyes and reliving for a moment the feel of his body against hers, his mouth teasing and promising. But resolutely she shook her head.
“Rain check,” she said.
6
MAX WATCHED THE old Yukon bounce and rumble its way out of the parking lot and onto the main street.
Rain check. What kind of an expression was that anyway? All it conjured up in his mind was an image of him and Claire in a cabin somewhere. Or a loft with skylights. A tropical hut in the jungle. Someplace where the rain would pound down around them. He imagined her, naked and passionate, while water pattered on the roof and her sighs mingled with the sounds of a storm raging.
He had to shake his head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with him?
Max had been singularly lucky in his life and he knew it. He’d always liked women. Maybe because he adored his mother and even though he hadn’t always adored his bossy older sister, he still loved her. Knew she had his back as he had hers.
But the combination of his financial success at such a young age and his genuine appreciation of women had meant that he hadn’t encountered many challenges in his dealings with the opposite sex.
He met lots of women. Polished beauties who were only too happy to trade their undeniable physical assets for the more worldly assets he could provide, high-powered businesswomen who were colleagues and sometimes more. But in every case, who he was—and what he could offer—were a part of the attraction.
It wasn’t that he’d ever fantasized about a prince-and-the-pauper scenario, where he could pretend to be poor and find a girl who would love him for who he was rather than his wealth and position. In fact, he thought the idea was ludicrous.
Still, it was a refreshing change to find himself in a place where no one knew or cared who he was, to feel that his net worth didn’t enter the room ahead of him.
As he drove back to the hotel in his new-to-him truck, he realized that he was enjoying being Max the bush pilot. Not Max the boss, not Max the guy who could write a check that would make a charity hostess weep, not Max the genius billionaire.
Here, he was just Max.
Oddly, he liked being seen for who he was alone. He found it relaxing to have so few expectations thrust upon him. To be able to fly most of the day.
And he liked very much not having to wonder whether a woman’s interest in him was influenced by his bank account balance, his connections, his place in the business community. He wanted to know that a woman might like him for himself.
Maybe he’d become like one of those entitled rich guys he couldn’t stand. Because he realized, when Claire had turned him down, that he hadn’t had to try this hard to get a woman for a very long time.
Did she intrigue him so much because she was a challenge and he was spoiled? He thought back to the way she’d felt in his arms on the ice. They’d both worn practice gear and skates. They were both perspiring and not exactly at their most attractive, but still he’d pulled her to him, needing the connection.
Lust lunged through him at the memory, pure and hot.
No, he thought. Claire wasn’t appealing because she didn’t know who he was, or because she wasn’t in a hurry to sleep with him. Claire’s appeal lay with Claire herself.
He liked her toughness and the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide. He liked her work ethic. He’d seen the hours she put in and how many of the tougher flights she took.
He liked the way she took care of her grandmother without Lynette quite realizing it. Family was extremely important to Max and he liked that Claire felt the same way.
He liked the frank way she looked at him, her curvy body and the way she carried so much responsibility on her slim shoulders.
He didn’t like the fact that Frank Carmondy was allowed back on the property, he thought to himself as he bounced over a pothole he hadn’t seen coming. If it had been up to him, the guy would be facing criminal charges right now. But he had to accept that it wasn’t his decision.
All he could do was hang around as much as he could and keep an eye on Claire, especially if that thieving lowlife came around to see her.
No, he thought, he could do more than that. One of the companies Varo Enterprises owned was a security firm.
When he got back to his cottage, he sent a message to his top security guy asking that he quietly check out Frank Carmondy and get back to him. ASAP.
He was coming up on three weeks in Spruce Bay. He liked living on the Polar Air property where he could at least try to protect two women he’d grown to like and admire. He even liked his little cottage and cooking the few meals he didn’t grab out.
He took a few minutes so that Claire could arrive home ahead of him and leave no material for idle gossip.
Adam and Dylan had replied to his text. Seemed they wanted to Skype him.
As soon as he was home and showered, he opened the connection. Found his two buddies.
They were at Dylan’s apartment, obviously sharing a beer after practice. “You should be here,” Dylan said, by way of greeting. He lifted a cold one and Adam did the same.
“Wait a minute,” he said, and reached for the small fridge in his kitchen. Came out with a local IPA. Took off the cap, saluted them and drank deep of the cold brew.
“What’s all this about hot girls?” Dylan asked immediately. Max wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know so he could try and bag one of the hot girls in question or whether he was hoping Max would finally give up the joys of being single so he could win their bet. Hard to say with Dylan. He could be after either one. Or both at the same time.
“Well, I found a hot one.”
“Yeah? She give you the time of day?”
“As a matter of fact I was out with her tonight.”
“What were you doing?”
“We played hockey.”
Adam stopped with his bottle halfway to his mouth.
Dylan choked. “Dude, you’ve been in Alaska too long.”
There was a pause. Adam said, “He’s playing with you, Dyl.”
Max shook his head. “No. I’m not. She really does play hockey.”
“What else does she do?” Adam asked. Sma
rt guy, Adam. No wonder he was a detective.
“She’s also my boss. Sort of. She basically runs Polar Air. She’s a pilot.”
“A hockey-playing bush pilot,” Dylan said slowly. “She chew tobacco, too? Hunt moose? Wrestle grizzlies?”
He felt a smile pulling at his lips. “You guys need to come up and meet her.”
“We need to do an intervention.”
“How are you liking it up there?” Adam asked after they both ignored Dylan.
“It’s great. Beautiful, unspoiled wilderness. I’ve seen the Northern Lights. People are friendly, mostly.”
“Do you miss your regular life?”
“No. I was thinking about it earlier. You know in that story about the prince and the pauper, how the rich guy and a poor one trade places? Well, I’ve done that in a way. I’m seen as a much simpler man here, and I like it.”
Dylan spoke again. “So, you’re dating a hockey player and you think you’re living in a fairy tale. I’m definitely thinking an intervention is in order.”
Once more Adam and Max ignored him. “Won’t she find out who you are?”
“Sure, eventually. I mean, I’ll tell her, obviously. But I’m not a very high-profile guy. I’m not a big self-promoter or media hound so I can’t imagine how she’d find out I’m more than just a bush pilot. I’ll tell her I’m the guy thinking of buying her airline. But right now I don’t want to get her hopes up. I don’t want her to be disappointed if Polar Air ends up not making economic sense for my company. Besides, it’s nice getting to know a woman without all that baggage in the way.”
“Yeah, those bags of million-dollar bills sure do weigh a guy down.”
“Do you need a loan or something?” Max snapped. Dylan was being particularly Dylan tonight.
“Don’t mind him. He’s pissed because we missed you at practice tonight. It’s not the same.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m going to see if I can work my day off around hockey practice so I can at least get down there once a week. Did you think about my offer? I could fly you guys up here for a few practices.”