On a Snowy Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  “Sure,” she said, embarrassed. But her embarrassment lasted only as long as her restraint. Reckless abandon seemed to be taking over. It started with a burning sensation low in her belly and was spreading through her veins, making her heart beat faster and faster, urging her to get on top of him…

  “They’ll be here in the morning.” His voice sounded strangled, and she could feel the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch as she straddled him.

  “What if they’re not?” she whispered, moving to make the contact even more erotic. She knew what he wanted, and she was willing to give it to him. Why was he so reluctant? It wouldn’t be their first time…

  “They will be,” he insisted.

  “This could be our last night on earth.”

  She thought he understood her point when his hands slid lower, curved possessively around her buttocks. But then he said, “I can’t pretend to be Mark again. If I make love to you, it’ll be because you want me, not him.”

  So that was the problem.

  Suddenly, all the desire that’d been pounding through her drained away. Not because she expected Maxim to be someone he wasn’t. She hadn’t been thinking about Mark. She’d been eagerly exploring a body that was nothing like her late husband’s. She’d forgotten all about him.

  But that was exactly what was bothering her. She couldn’t believe it was possible to forget him so easily, especially with his worst enemy.

  Sliding off Maxim, she turned away, trying to figure out how she could be so disloyal to the one man she’d promised to love forever.

  CHAPTER NINE

  He’d done the right thing, Maxim told himself. Their lovemaking would have no meaning if she was merely pretending again, and he wanted her too badly for a meaningless encounter. But that didn’t stop the disappointment that rolled through him when she moved off him.

  It’s better this way. Why, he couldn’t say from one second to the next, not with her rear pressed into his lap, which seemed to interfere with his thinking. But he tried to believe he’d made the ethical choice. The night would pass. They’d get home. And then he’d be glad he exercised some restraint.

  Meanwhile the minutes dragged by like hours and he couldn’t relax, couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying those few moments after she’d asked him to hold her. She’d been so eager to touch him, so eager for him to touch her. She’d even climbed on top of him! Why had he forced her to reconsider?

  Because he was trying to be fair. Because he’d wanted her to offer herself without any coaxing…

  Closing his eyes, he struggled to shut out the appealing scent of her hair, but it filled his nostrils every time he drew a breath. Had she gone to sleep? He was pretty sure she had. She hadn’t moved in a long time, ever since she’d turned her back to him.

  Confident that she wouldn’t know the difference, he allowed himself to curve more fully around her. He wanted to touch her breast but didn’t go that far. He merely kissed her bare shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. For being unable to accept less than everything she had to give? For knowing that the man she loved with such devotion was a liar? For his outspoken criticism of Mark, which had put her on that plane in the first place?

  Maybe he was apologizing for it all.

  * * *

  Pale tendrils of light threaded their way through the windows of the Cessna’s carcass. It was morning. It had been for some time, but Adelaide remained still. She didn’t want to wake Maxim. She preferred to luxuriate in the secure feeling of his arm anchoring her to him and the memory of him kissing her shoulder last night.

  I’m sorry. Why had he felt the need to apologize? He hadn’t done anything more to her than she’d done to him. They’d both been slinging insults over the past several months. Besides, the race didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  So what had motivated those softly uttered words? They were so…uncharacteristic of him. He was tough, demanding, uncaring, ambitious—wasn’t he?

  Definitely. But if that was all he was, why would he care whether or not she pretended he was someone else? Was it pride?

  She’d chosen to think so, until his apology had made her reevaluate. She hadn’t been able to categorize it under any of the bad qualities she’d assigned to him. She was convinced he wouldn’t have said what he had if he’d realized she was awake.

  So who was Maxim Donahue? Was he really as bad as she believed him to be?

  Moving carefully, she maneuvered herself to face him. He didn’t wake; he just stirred, then drew her against him as if they were regular and familiar lovers.

  She laid her ear on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, praying that the steady rhythm would soon be drowned out by the rotary blades of a rescue copter. But she was afraid rescuers wouldn’t be able to spot them. Judging by the obscure quality of the light, the latest snowfall had nearly buried the plane. Was the emergency transmitter working? Was the storm over?

  It was crucial that they get up and do everything possible to make their position more visible. But if rescuers arrived today, these might be the last few minutes she’d ever spend in such intimacy with Maxim Donahue.

  She didn’t want to trade them away too soon…

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Apparently, her movement had awakened him, after all.

  She tilted her head back to see his face. The shadow on his cheeks had darkened with another day’s beard, making him look less like the man she’d spent the past months disliking and more like the man she was coming to know in a whole new way. “We made it through another night,” she said.

  “I told you we would. How’s your leg?”

  It’d been sore since she injured it, but preparing the wrecked plane as a shelter hadn’t required much effort from her. Although she was fine for now, she was pretty sure her injury would complain more loudly when they got out and starting digging. “I’ll live. Well, maybe,” she added with a laugh. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I’ve had more restful nights. You ready to get up?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she held his face between her hands and stared into his eyes as she ran a thumb over his lips. “Did you mean it?” she breathed.

  A certain wariness entered his expression. “Mean what?”

  “That I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

  He said nothing.

  “Or was that part of the act?”

  He looked away. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters.”

  When his gaze returned to hers, she no longer needed verbal confirmation. She could see it in his eyes. The always-in-control, forever-aloof Maxim Donahue had lifted the mask he normally wore to let her see the passion that simmered behind his cool exterior. And that sent an intoxicating flood of warmth and desire flowing through her.

  Moving slowly, so he could stop her if he wanted, she pressed her lips to his.

  They were warm and dry at first, but then they parted and his tongue met hers.

  Someone moaned. She was almost positive it was her. But he moaned, too, the moment his hands found her breasts. He pulled off her bra so he could caress her, and she closed her eyes as his mouth left hers to trail small kisses down her throat.

  * * *

  Maxim couldn’t hear for the pounding of his heart. Until the crash, he hadn’t been with a woman since Chloe—and their lovemaking had lost its luster years before she was diagnosed. He felt younger than he’d felt in a very long time, more excited than he could ever remember. Somehow, nothing seemed to matter except being with Adelaide.

  “You feel…amazing,” he murmured.

  She was breathing too hard to answer; the rapid rise and fall of her chest told him that. But she wasn’t unresponsive. Her hands clutched his hair
, guiding his mouth to her breast, and he groaned again when he realized she tasted as good as she felt.

  He shoved her panties to her knees so he could eventually move lower. But he wasn’t quite ready for that. Lightly pinning her down, he explored more leisurely what he’d rushed through the night before.

  “What is it you want?” he whispered when she began to writhe against him, gasping. “Tell me, Adelaide, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “You know…what I want.”

  He was hoping to hear his name. “Tell me, or I’ll stop.” He held his hand still, as if he’d make good on the threat, and she took his mouth in a fierce kiss.

  “I want you, okay? I want you,” she said against his lips.

  “Now?” he teased.

  She gulped for breath. “Now!”

  Somehow, in the tightness of that sleeping bag, he managed to get rid of his boxers. He had no idea when or where they went. The same was true of her panties. Then he and Adelaide were touching and tasting each other in a frenzy like he’d never experienced.

  The next few minutes didn’t last as long as he would’ve liked. They were too desperate for each other. But never in his life had he enjoyed five minutes more.

  Adelaide didn’t say what he’d been longing to hear, not even when he had her trembling on the brink of climax—but it wasn’t much later that they heard the helicopter.

  * * *

  Adelaide sat in the backseat of the chopper across from Maxim. She had a blanket wrapped around her and was staring out the window at the swirling snow. The pilot and his partner had said they’d found them just when they were about to turn back. Apparently, the ELT had gone off but had stopped working after only a few minutes, and the severity of the storm system hadn’t allowed them to search more than three hours yesterday, two this morning. If the Cessna hadn’t fallen into such a wide crevice, the helicopter wouldn’t have had room to land or time to wait for them to climb down into the clearing. The rescuers hadn’t even been able to recover Cox. It was too risky to go after him until the current storm had passed.

  That news hadn’t made Adelaide happy. She’d argued that they should take Cox to his family right now. But once it started to snow, she seemed to realize the helicopter pilot was right and let the subject go. The truth was, they were damn lucky—lucky to be alive, lucky to have gotten out when they did, lucky to be home in time for Christmas.

  Maxim hoped his girls hadn’t assumed the worst. He hated the thought of what they must have suffered, believing he was dead. They’d already lost their mother.

  The wind tossed the helicopter like a cheap toy. Feeling airsick, Maxim glanced over to see how Adelaide was coping with the bumpy flight and noticed how tightly she clasped her hands in her lap. She didn’t speak, didn’t complain, but she was clearly nervous. After what they’d been through, he didn’t blame her. He was anxious, too.

  Briefly, he considered trying to comfort her by squeezing her arm but refrained. She wouldn’t even look at him. Now that they’d been rescued, neither of them knew what to think of the time they’d spent together—or the physical intimacy between them. The fact that they hadn’t used birth control seemed far more important now than it had before, however. Was Adelaide carrying his baby? Was she worried that she might be? What would they do if she was?

  Closing his eyes to shut out the blinding white of the snow, which made him dizzy, he told himself there was no use worrying until he knew for sure, and tried to put it out of his mind.

  “We’ll be down in ten minutes,” the pilot announced, speaking through the earphones he’d given each of them.

  “Sounds good to me,” Maxim responded and the guy in the passenger seat sent him a thumbs-up.

  Adelaide didn’t comment. But she thanked the pilot once they landed. She shook Maxim’s hand and politely thanked him, too—as if they were still professional acquaintances. Then a paramedic helped her across the tarmac to an ambulance.

  There was a second ambulance waiting for Maxim. Although he would’ve preferred to ride along with Adelaide, it made sense for him to have his own transportation. As opponents, they shouldn’t share an ambulance or anything else.

  They should never have been on that plane together.

  But, except for what had happened to the pilot, Maxim couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Harvey Sillinger slapped a file folder on Maxim’s desk. “Now you’ve got to do it,” he said, his eyes burning with exhilaration.

  Maxim scowled at the intrusion. This was his first day back at work since the crash. He wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with his campaign manager’s intense personality. Christmas was in three days—his daughters would be arriving tomorrow. He’d wanted to spend a few quiet hours at campaign headquarters clearing off his desk before the new year. He’d thought he’d be able to do that when he walked in at eight and found Harvey so absorbed in a telephone conversation that he barely grunted hello. They’d already spoken several times since the rescue, had nothing pressing to discuss, and Harvey was the only one in the office. Maxim’s other employees and volunteers were off for the holidays.

  It should’ve been a low-key, catch-up morning, but nothing about his campaign manager was ever low-key. A longtime political veteran, Harvey lived to one-up his opponents. That was initially why Maxim had hired him. He’d wanted a heavy hitter and had planned to do all he could to retain his senate seat. Maybe he’d even wanted to prove something to Adelaide. But he was learning that Harvey had no sense of when he’d gone too far.

  “What are you talking about?” Maxim asked.

  Harvey motioned toward the file next to the mini Christmas tree some volunteer had placed on his desk. “I have the e-mails,” he stated with obvious satisfaction.

  Maxim could guess where this was going, but he’d already told his campaign manager that he didn’t want to follow up on what they’d uncovered about Mark Fairfax. He was even more reluctant to hurt Adelaide now than he’d been before—for reasons he refused to disclose to Harvey and preferred not to think about himself. “Tell me this has nothing to do with Mark Fairfax.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Short and stocky but bursting with frenetic energy, Harvey leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I have correspondence here that proves Fairfax was having a very sordid affair when he died—” he paused for effect “—with a male intern.”

  “Oh, God,” Maxim muttered and dragged a hand over his face.

  Harvey thumped the file, nearly knocking the Christmas tree to the floor. “Fairfax sent these messages to a boy of eighteen,” he said as he caught it. “They’re so explicit there’s no way anyone can argue about what was going on.” He chuckled. “Read them yourself. He had one hell of a dirty mind. It’ll be a shock to everyone.”

  Especially Adelaide. “Why are you still at this?” Maxim asked, rising to his feet. “I told you I didn’t want to know any more about Fairfax. We’re running this campaign, my campaign, on the issues.”

  Harvey stiffened, glaring at him. “A political campaign is never about the issues. You know that. At least you did when I came on. It’s a sales job, pure and simple. And I’m the best salesman in the business.”

  “Then sell—but forget Fairfax.”

  “You’re saying personal integrity isn’t an issue?”

  “The man’s dead!” Maxim said. “The only person this will hurt is the wife he left behind!”

  “You mean the wife who’s trying to take your job?” Harvey yelled. “Who just stole the Salazar endorsement? You hired me to win this campaign and now you’re tying my hands? I don’t get it! You’re the one who came to me with the tip on Fairfax. You’re the one who wanted me to see if there was anything to it.”

  Maxim had received a voice-mail message from an anonymous caller who’d accused Fairfax of a lot
of things, including bribery and a vague charge of sexual misconduct. Maxim had been interested in finding out whether or not he’d taken bribe money from some of the developers in the state. He knew it would reveal why Mark had changed positions and thrown his support behind certain projects. But he’d never expected the crazy accusation of sexual misconduct to take them where it had. A homosexual affair with a boy of eighteen? “I wanted to prove he was corrupt, but—”

  “But we found something even more damning!”

  “More sensational isn’t necessarily more damning.”

  “Everyone takes bribes these days. Not everyone plays hide the salami with teenage boys.”

  “Stop it.” Maxim scowled, but Harvey wouldn’t back off.

  “He solicited sex from the young men who volunteered to work for him. That’s big news, Maxim, and people need to know.”

  The “need to know” line warned Maxim that Harvey was out of control. “The man’s dead,” he reiterated. “No one needs to know anything about—” he gestured at the file “—this.”

  Harvey began to stalk around the room. “I can’t believe it! I thought you were reluctant because you didn’t want to be perceived as desperate, grasping at straws, lowering yourself by accusing a dead man.”

  Maxim had said all that and more, but keeping what Mark did a secret had always been about Adelaide, not the campaign.

  “I thought you wanted me to pull back because we didn’t have enough proof,” Harvey went on. “So I get you proof, unimpeachable proof. This puts Fairfax and his widow right in our crosshairs. And you’re not happy about it? What am I missing here?”

  Maxim shoved the file away and managed to knock the Christmas tree off the desk himself. “No, I’m not happy. I want you to shred every last e-mail and wipe away whatever’s on your computer. And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone.” This time he leaned forward. “I mean it, Harvey.”

  Apparently realizing that he wouldn’t relent, Harvey stopped pacing. “I’m only doing my job.”