The other pilot was dead, slumped over the cockpit. Touching one body was more than enough, thank you. He stepped forward, moving gingerly, so his movements wouldn’t aggravate the situation—he grew afraid that treading in a hasty manner might ripple things in the plane, making that crack bloom. He needed to get her out first.
“Help,” she whispered once more, then went limp in the harness.
Even wounded as she was, there was something graceful about her. Her high cheekbones and the set of her jaw were delicate. Her lips were full, almost a bit pouty. She wore a typical pilot’s uniform but underneath was the voluptuous figure of a well built woman. Full breasted, Alex could see the curve of them pressed against the cotton blouse.
He took a moment to mentally kick himself. What the hell was he doing? They were about to be drowned and here he was lusting after a woman who was probably an employee. He stood underneath her to catch her as he unlatched the harness and she fell into his arms. He lifted her, one arm cradling her plump buttocks, the heft of it driving him wild.
He carried her out of the cockpit into the main cabin and stopped cold. They’d been lucky so far, but that crack was seconds away from breaking wide open. Water had been steadily weeping into the insulation from the loss of the tail section. He could feel the plane getting heavier. They were sinking fast, an inevitable fact.
Holding a beautiful woman in his arms, his confidence started to sink as well. “Fuck! We’re going to die.” His eyes darted around the cabin. Seat cushions? Yeah, those were supposed to work as floatation devices. But that water was ice cold—they’d die from hypothermia even if they did get out. “Now what?”
“Floatation,” she urged, her breath warm against his neck. “Emergency. Ramp. Pumps itself.”
He adjusted her in his arms from where she was starting to slip. “How?”
She raised her head, glaring at him with her one good eye. “How long?”
“Huh?”
“Owned. The plane. How long?”
“Ten years,” he blustered. “So what?”
The pilot shook her head, blinking her eyes hard. With a deep breath, she met his gaze again. “You’ve owned this plane…ten years…and you don’t know where the damned emergency exit is?”
Alex stared at her stupidly. Emergency exit? The plane had an emergency exit?
She pointed to the side of the plan, the warning sign on the window. “There. Follow the directions.”
He laid her onto a nearby seat and glanced at the window. Figures, the fucking instructions were printed upside down. No, the plane is upside down. Get it together, asshole. He did exactly what the upside down directions told him to do—pulled the lever until it clicked home, turned the wheel, and pushed the door out. Oh, that’s what she meant.
The inflatable ramp immediately filled with air, growing longer and expanding into its normal shape. The only problem was, the damned thing was also upside down, so it was attached to the top part of the doorway.
“Un—unsnap it!”
He whirled around to see her struggling to stand. “Are you crazy? That’s a winter storm out there, honey. It’ll float away.”
“No, it won’t,” she gasped, holding one arm to her stomach. “Just hold onto it and then we jump on it—together.”
“You’re insane?” he mocked. “That or you took too hard a knock to the head.”
“Just do it,” she snapped and clutched him around the waist.
This was crazy. This wasn’t supposed to be him doing this. This was supposed to be someone else’s job, someone he paid damned well to perform the duties. The front windshield of the plane finished the job of cracking and exploded inward. The cockpit filled quickly and the plane took a wicked lurch forward. He had no choice. Alex gripped the edge of the ramp and tugged on it, the snaps easily giving way. He threw the woman on top and dove on it himself, just as the plane slipped beneath the churning waves.
The fuselage disappeared, creating a spinning vortex in the water. He felt the raft grabbed under his knees, the rubber gripped by the wake. They slid toward the hungry mouth, the raft beginning to buckle and twist. He felt the same churning in his belly as he looked around for anything that could break the hold. We're were going to drown after all, his mind screamed, and he steeled himself for the inevitable.
Fate had other plans, it seemed—the vortex closed as quickly as it had opened, a wave rolling over it…giving the raft the needed push to send it on. He collapsed on the inflated surface, waiting to see what would happen next.
They were lucky in that the rain had stopped—or maybe, it hadn’t yet started, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t raining. But the wind became vicious, blowing them God only knew where and frigid as only an Alaskan wind could be.
The woman lay on her back, shaking wildly.
Alex was feeling the wind himself, so he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. For the first time in his life, he began to pray.
She pressed against him, the feeling of her delectable ass against his hips, kept his mind from the numbing cold of the water below them and the wind around them. His arms around her made contact with those amazing breasts of hers…warm and soft under his embrace. She felt so vulnerable, so small. At that moment, whoever she was, he wanted to take care of her. He had absolutely no idea how to do that, but he vowed that he would. Somehow.
The raft followed the current, the wind helping to blow it in a direction. He had no clue where they were going, but he hoped they’d get there soon enough. He was freezing his balls off. They had no chance, unless they found some kind of land soon. He’d worry about anything else when it happened. He wrapped his full length against her back and held on tighter, ignoring her squirms.
She turned her head and shouted something that he missed the first time.
He put his face closer to hers, his ear near her mouth.
“Inlet,” she shouted again, pointing ahead of them.
Now that they were outside of the plane, he could see that the thick, black cloud cover still let a little light through. Through the haze of the ocean’s spray and the small amount of light, he could follow her finger and saw the island ahead of them. The wind and current were taking them right for it—and right for the rocks in front of it.
He put his mouth to her ear and bellowed, “Listen to me. We may have to swim for it. That island has a rocky coast.”
“Don’t have to,” she shouted back. “The raft will float, I promise.”
“No, it won’t!”
“Yes, it will. Trust me.”
What the fuck? Who wants to live forever? Alex told himself, and held her tightly again—to wait.
She turned out to be right as the waves picked up as they drew nearer to the shore. There was a bigger danger of being ripped off the raft than having it cut to ribbons. The water swelled, lifted them up over reef’s jagged edges, and safely deposited the air filled craft safely on the other side. It was worse than any roller coaster he’d ever been on as a kid, but they held on tightly to the craft and waited.
The rubber vessel rammed hard against the land, giving them both a jolt. They rolled against the sides of the raft, managing not to go over the edge into the frigid water. He felt her moan, the wind still so loud that he could barely hear his own heartbeat. They were on solid ground, thank God!
But the tide kept trying to suck the raft back out to sea. He couldn’t let that happen. He made his way to an unsteady standing position, then pulled her up to her own feet. With no ceremony, he slung the woman over his shoulder and stepped quickly, carefully until they were off the floating raft. He held onto her, watching the tide claim their only way off the island.
“…down,” she shouted.
“Huh? What?” The wind still made it hard to hear but the lack of the waves allowed for an amount of sound to penetrate.
“I said, put me down.”
He lowered her to her feet, then put a hand on her back until she was steady again. “We have to find
shelter.”
“Yes,” she shouted. “Need—f-f-f-fire. C-c-c-cold!”
Alex desperately searched the surroundings. They’d landed in a cove of some kind. As luck would have it, there was a cave worn into the limestone outcropping. He pointed at it, waiting for her to see it.
When she nodded, they made as quick a dash as they could, the wind practically blowing them over with every step. They clung to each other, hoping against hope that they could stay on their feet.
He half dragged, half carried her to the cave's entrance. All he could see was shelter but the woman had other ideas.
She stopped just outside, refusing to budge another step.
CHAPTER TWO
Alex stared at her—or maybe it was more like glaring from where he stood. Body parts turning blue. What the hell is her problem? They were inches from safety, from getting out of this damned storm and she was going to be stubborn about something? Women!
“Come on,” he shouted. “I’m freezing my ass off.”
The wind stole her reply at first. When he grabbed her free arm, she flailed at him with her fist. She caught him in the middle and still refused to move.
“Get your ass in there,” he demanded.
She shook her head stubbornly, shouting again. This time, he managed to catch “—mal!”
“What?” he barked into her ear, shaking his head to indicate that he didn’t understand.
She grabbed his ear with her free hand, pulling it toward her, making him wince at the pain. “There could be an animal in there,” she screamed. “We can’t go running in there.”
“Shit!” Was she insane? Was she right? He was more than willing to take a chance but obviously, she wasn’t. He leaned closer and yelled, “Look, I’m too fucking cold to care. I’m going in. You wait here.”
There was barely enough light to see three feet past the cave’s entrance, but he went in anyway. Just being out of the wind was a great help. It still felt cold but not as bad. He had no idea how to proceed after that. But he knew one thing—and he wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew it. He was absolutely alone in the cave. He didn’t give her a choice this time. He snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her inside of the cave, depositing her on a large rock just inside the entrance.
She sank onto the stone, her eyes darting around the darkness. “You are insane! Do you get that? Totally insane.” She dropped her gaze, avoiding his. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You being my boss and all.”
He jerked his gaze back to her. “Boss? You work for me?”
She snorted. “I’m your pilot, sir.”
“No,” he blurted. “My pilot is a man, Allyn. His name is Allyn.”
Her chuckle was slightly less than irritated but slightly more than amused. “Grace Allyn, yes. That would be me.”
He stared at her, his hand shaking now. “You? You’re the idiot that—?”
Grace sat up straighter, glaring back. “Idiot? I beg your pardon?”
“You crashed my plane!”
“We lost two engines, you fool,” she spat back at him. “I just barely managed to put that damned plane down by gliding it into the water. We hit a swell; that’s what tipped the plane.”
He shook his head, absorbing that much, then tilted it like a dog trying to figure it out. “You—we glided?”
“Yes, we glided and I am not an idiot!”
He gaped openly for a moment before shutting his mouth with a snap. “So, you’re a good pilot after all.”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”
He had no answer for a moment, feeling every inch the fool for opening his mouth. Especially since, they were the only two out of a half dozen who were still drawing breath. I don't want to think about that. I can't.
So, she was his new pilot. Grace. And she certainly seemed like grace incarnate. He stared at his shoes for a few minutes, not sure what to say. When he finally did look up again, she was watching him intently. He smiled sheepishly at her. “How are you doing?” Not that he could do anything about it if the answer was bad.
“Freezing. We need a fire.” She slid down to the ground, leaning back against the rock.
“I…” He stared around in the small illuminated area. “Well, we need wood.” He whirled in place, straining to see in the darkness. Maybe he was wrong about the cave being empty except for the human inhabitants. “Will you be okay while I get the wood?”
Grace shook her head. “You’ll never find any that’s dry enough. That storm is wicked bad out there.”
“Yeah, but it’s not raining.” He hoped he sounded confident and reassuring. His broken nose was throbbing badly enough that confidence was the last thing he felt. “That gives me a good chance. You stay here, Grace. I’ll grab as much wood as I can.”
She nodded weakly, the look on her face plainly showing she didn't believe him.
“I’ll hurry, I promise.” He made his way out of the cave, looking for wood. Sticks, branches, anything he could find. Which proved a lot harder than he thought it would be. He could find branches but realized that he had nothing to use to cut them up.
Any other time, someone would have purchased precut logs for the fire. Or his housekeeper would have paid someone to cut up the dead wood on the property. His bruised ribs were going to make this difficult, at best—not to mention that his balls were two round ice cubes in his scrotum.
However, he had no choice. It was either ignore the pain and carry the damned wood or freeze to death in that cave. Could be worse, he thought to himself. He wasn't sure how, but it kept him going. He gathered armfuls of sticks and smaller branches, depositing each armful by the mouth of the cave.
On his third trip, he had a stroke of luck that made his impending frostbite a bit more bearable—he found a very large stack of thick branches, each a length of three to four feet. Still rather long for a fire but they would serve. The stack took two trips to carry them inside the cave, and all of the wood he’d already cached took another three trips. He felt exhausted, sweating, but managed to get everything in the cave before the heavens opened up over the small inlet.
“C-c-c-cold,” Grace sputtered. Her voice sounding weaker.
“I know, honey. I’ll get a fire going here.” He stacked the smaller branches first, making a small mound, then made a pyramid with the thicker branches. “That should work fine.” He started slapping at his pockets. “Shit, I thought I had matches with me. I always carry matches.”
“B-b-bit useless, then.”
He glared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Wet. Won’t work.” Grace reached into the pocket of her wet uniform jacket, pulling out a lighter. “Wet t-t-too. Blow on top. That will dry it enough.”
The wood was damp but not impossible to light. Covered in a fine mist, the smaller branches and twigs resisted a bit at first. Dead moss lying about the cave’s floor soon dealt with that, flaming up around the wood and helping to ignite the blaze. The fire seemed slow to build but blazing soon enough. The change was immediate—the stone walls absorbing the heat, the flames casting a rosy glow over the inner sanctum.
He had time to really see her now. The carefully coiffed bun was now hanging around her ears, the auburn hair flaming down her shoulders. It was hard to tell, but her eyes looked a stunning green, a bottle green perhaps.
Her face resembled that of an angel’s—round, wide eyed, full lipped. But those lips were in a decided frown.
Alex felt the first stirrings in his loins and wanted to kiss the frown off those beautiful lips. God, St. Thomas, get your head out of your crotch. He held his hand down to her. “Here, let me help you up. Get closer to the fire, honey.”
She stared at his hand for a moment, then up at his face. “My name is not ‘honey’.”
He wasn’t sure whether he’d been slapped or not, but he nodded to her. “You’re right. It’s Grace. And you’re my pilot.”
She held her hand up to him and too
k the help in standing. “Except…I wrecked your plane,” she managed to get out.
“No, the storm wrecked my plane. You saved us.”
Her sigh sounded heavy, her face turned down to the dirt beneath them. “I couldn’t save everyone. They died, sir.”
With one finger, he raised her chin until he could see her eyes again. Definitely bottle green. “From where I was sitting, there was nothing more you could do. Yes, they died, but that was bad, dumb luck. Nothing more. We hit a wave and the plane flipped.”
She shrugged, still watching him.
“What happened wasn’t your fault. I was wrong to blame you.” His cock twitched, his underwear suddenly felt too tight and constraining. But he meant every word of it. “And here I haven’t yet thanked you for saving my life.”
That brought the ghost of a smile to her face and it lit up brighter than the fire. “You’re welcome.”
He wanted to touch her face, trace the hairline from her temple to her jaw. He wanted to take her in his arms. He took her hands and lowered her down to the ground again, close enough to the fire to take its warmth but not so close as to burn her.
Grace pulled her knees up and hugged them tight.
Alex sat down beside her. “How screwed are we?” he asked. “No one knows where we are.”
Her shoulders shook from silent laughter and she tossed her hair back and forth.
He furrowed his brow, crossing his arms to keep from slapping her. “You think that’s funny?”
She heard the tone in his question, her laughing stopped. “No,” she answered, still smiling at him. “And, no, we’re not screwed. The plane had an emergency beacon. I turned it on when the engines blew. They probably won’t send a search plane out until the storm is over—whenever that happens—but we’ll have help soon enough.”
He hated the sound of the pouting in his voice when he asked, “Then, why were you laughing?”
Stranded With a Billionaire Boxed Set Page 12
