WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter NINE

“We’re sleeping together,” Skip said. “Get used to the idea. You’re not going to be able to keep the beds apart.”

They’d torn the cushions off the seats—well mostly Wren since she had the use of both of her hands—and made a bed of sorts on the ceiling of the plane. The ceiling was sloped so the cushions slid together. Skip was perfectly fine with that. It meant she’d slide into him too.

Wren glared at him, but he knew it was a façade. She wasn’t angry, she was scared. He knew she wasn’t scared of him. He wasn’t the kind of man who would ever jump a woman. He’d never take advantage of her. Unless she asked him to. Didn’t mean he was above talking her into being taken advantage of.

He hid the smile that split across his face with a cough. They’d worked hard in the limited light that was left. He’d hung a flashlight off the exposed metal of the cushion-less seats. He’d also done his best to block the wind, rain and sleet, from coming in. With the plane upside down, the windows were low to the ground. Snow was already covering them, insulating the plane more from the elements. They had enough food to feed a wedding party, and the little village of Egegik, so they’d be fine for quite a while. Plenty of time for the Coast Guard to find them. Snow could provide water if they ran out of the four cases he’d brought along. Heat was the main issue.

There was only one way he knew how to get warm without a fire.

Time to play the injured card. Besides, he had to get Wren to calm down.

“Wren, can we just sit? My arm aches like a sonofabitch. Are there any more pain pills? And I’d like some more of those candied almonds.” They’d torn open a bag of wedding almonds Wren had found in the groceries he’d brought back for his sister’s wedding. Wren hadn’t wanted to eat them, but he’d talked her into it since his sister would be really upset if they died out here because they wouldn’t eat the wedding food. The almonds had made a nice dessert after the deli meats and cheese in the cooler. He had a pretty good suspicion the wedding cake hadn’t survived the crash. His sister was going to be furious about the cake once she was over hugging and crying that they were still alive.

Now if he could get Wren to stop fluttering around the damn plane. She was doing her best to stay as far away from him in the cramped space as she could.

She turned and grabbed the first aid kit from the cockpit where she’d put it earlier. She’d been making a home out of this wreck, finding places for things, making everything as comfortable for them as she could. He understood the need, but now that it was done, she needed to conserve her energy and rest next to him where they could share each other’s heat.

“I’m sorry, Skip. I should have thought about your arm. Here.” She shook out four pills and handed them to him, her arm fully extended so that she wouldn’t touch him.

He enclosed his hand over hers. “I’m not going to jump you. Relax.”

A blush flared in her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“And quit saying you’re sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I have everything to be sorry about.” She tugged on her arm until he opened his hand. She dropped the pills into his palm and offered a water bottle.

He swallowed the pills to keep from venting his frustration. She needed to get over the past. She was a different person. More mature, less fractured. The strong woman he’d always known she could be. Why couldn’t she see that?

“We need to shut off the light to save the batteries. So if there’s anything you need to do or get before we head to bed, you’d better do it.”

“Bathroom,” she blurted out. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Did she really, or was it another delay? Whether she did or didn’t, it was something he needed to address.

“Okay, we’ll go together.”

“I’m not peeing with you.”

“Have you looked out there?” He pointed to the snow plastered windows. “It’s a blizzard. You’ll get lost.”

She rolled her eyes. “I grew up here too. I’m not some cheechako you have to teach the ropes to.” She stopped, and her eyes widened. “Rope. I saw rope.” She held up a finger in thought. “Give me a second.” She sidled past him and climbed into the tail of the plane. “Shine the flashlight this direction.”

He tilted the flashlight toward her and was rewarded as her sweet ass caught in the beam of light. He smothered a groan. He wanted that ass snuggled up to his—

“Hey, could you be helpful here or what?”

He jerked the flashlight beam off her becoming backside and shined it where it would actually help her. Geez, where was his head? Get it together man. She’s going to think you only have sex on the brain. It was the truth, but he should pretend otherwise. Women didn’t like to know the truth about men.

“Got it.” She held up some frayed rope like it was a trophy.

“What are we going to do with that?” Tie each other up? Another pump of blood headed south.

“I’ll tie one end around my waist, head out there—” she paused and shuddered “—tie the other end to the struts on the plane so I can find my way back in the snow.”

He liked his idea better. But hers was more practical though less titillating. “Good idea.” She beamed, and he suddenly wondered how many people, him included, had ever complimented her. Yeah, he’d always told her how beautiful she was but never how brilliant. But then she hadn’t done a lot of smart things in her life. So many people had relished pointing that out to her. Her father especially.

“Let me go first,” he said. He could at least break a trail.

“If you don’t mind, I’m about to burst.” She grabbed her coat and slid it on.

He reached up and untied the flashlight from where he’d hung it. “Take this.”

He handed it to her but didn’t let it go when she grabbed it. “Don’t drop it.”

“I won’t.”

She tied an end of the rope around her waist. When she was finished, she met his eyes. “I won’t go far. Don’t worry.”

He buried his hand in her hair, and yanked her in for a fast and hard kiss. He’d meant to only kiss her quick, but she did that softening thing again, and he helplessly sunk into her mouth. She moaned into his mouth and slid her arms around his neck. He reached out to pull her closer and tweaked his broken arm. He hissed and released her, pain flared hot and cold, diminishing his desire.

“Be careful,” he gritted out, not wanting her to know how much pain he was in.

“I will.” She cocked her head. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine once you’re back here. So hurry.”

“See you in a few.” Then she turned and climbed through the cockpit. Opening the door, wind and snow swirled in, and then she was gone, and he was alone in the cold, in the dark, and in pain. But the pain had transferred from the physical to the emotional. He wanted her back. Now. He wanted to follow her out there.

What if something happened? What if she tripped and hurt herself or lost the hold of the rope and couldn’t find the plane in the blowing snow? She hadn’t been able to see the plane when they had returned from depositing Jim.

Jim.

Holy shit. She was right. They should have tossed him over the bank. Right now, Wren could be fighting for her life against a bear. It was early yet for them to all be in bed. Just the other day, he’d spotted a sow and her cubs. Jim’s scent could have brought one close. Bears sense of smell was eight hundred times that of humans. There were wolves running about too.

What the hell had he been thinking to let her go out there alone? She didn’t even have a weapon with her to help protect herself. He grabbed his coat and struggled into the one arm. He couldn’t get it to stay over his bad one. Frustrated, he tore the thing off and threw it on the bed of cushions.

She’d been gone too long. What if she hadn’t tied the rope properly and the knot worked loose with the wind?

That was it. He was going out there.

Wren shuddered in the cold. There was nothing more bitterly cold than baring your ass in a blizzard. She’d finished her business and had her clothing back to rights when a large hulking creature stalked her way.

A chill that rivaled the storm shivered through her. Skip should have listened to her. Jim should’ve gone over the bluff. She dropped to her knees and inched to the left, where she remembered the plane being.

If the bear caught her scent, she’d lead him right to Skip.

She grabbed the rope and struggled to untie the knot from around her waist, but the bear lumbered closer. Shit. She needed to get free, run. But where? Then she heard her name. At least she thought it was her name. One thing she did know, bears didn’t speak.

She squinted against the slicing snow and instead of seeing a bear, the outline formed into a man.

“Skip Kolenka Ozhuwan! You scared me to death. I thought you were a bear. What are you doing out here, and where is your coat? Are you insane?”

“Apparently.” He shivered. “You were taking too long. I thought maybe you were in danger.”

“It isn’t like women can just whip it out and pee anywhere. It takes some finesse. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“I was worried.”

“Have a little faith. It’s not like I’m out here trying to score a line of coke.”

“That thought never crossed my mind.”

Suddenly she was ashamed of herself. He’d come looking for her because he’d been concerned, and she was jumping all over him. “I’m about froze to the bone. Can we continue this inside?” But when they returned to the closed confines of the plane, she realized there was no putting off going to bed with him.