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by Debbie Macomber


  * * *

  Christian set aside the murder mystery he was reading and forcefully expelled his breath. He couldn’t seem to concentrate, although the author was one of his favorites.

  Tomorrow evening, Mariah would be back, and frankly he dreaded her return. Despite his warning, he was sure she’d be foolish enough to put some stock in that stupid kiss. He tried to put her out of his mind, something he’d been struggling to do all week.

  Mariah wasn’t the only woman who’d been on his mind lately. Funny that he’d be thinking of Allison Reynolds now. But again and again he found himself comparing his current secretary to the one who got away.

  Every time the statuesque blonde drifted into his thoughts, Christian felt his heart work like a blacksmith’s bellows.

  In the year since she’d gone home to Seattle, he’d never called. More fool he. When they first met, they’d dated—nothing serious, just a couple of dinners while he’d been in Seattle conducting business and setting up job interviews. He remembered those evenings with Allison in a haze of pleasure.

  He was due to go back to the Northwest, strictly for business purposes, anytime now. He’d been discussing the trip with Sawyer just that morning. Generally they took turns going to Seattle to arrange for supplies, but with Abbey pregnant and the kids getting ready to head back to school, Sawyer wasn’t eager to leave Hard Luck. Christian was.

  For one thing, he’d have a chance to visit his mother, who lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. He had a special bond with Ellen. While Charles and Sawyer were more like their father in looks and temperament, Christian had always been closer to his mother.

  As a boy, he’d spent eighteen months with her in England. The years before the separation had been difficult for his parents. Christian, only ten at the time, hadn’t understood what was happening to his family.

  All he knew was that his mother was desperately unhappy. More than once he’d found her weeping, and in his own way had attempted to comfort her. When she told him she was leaving Alaska, Christian had known immediately that he should go with her. His mother would need him, he thought—and she had.

  Saying goodbye to his father and brothers was hard, and he’d missed them far more than he’d dreamed possible. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed living in England, but that hadn’t lasted long. He missed Alaska. He missed his home, his brothers and the life he’d always known, and he suspected his mother did, as well.

  After a year and a half, they’d flown back to Hard Luck, and for a time, a very brief time, they’d been a family again, and happy.

  Christian had never fully understood what had shattered that fragile joy, but he realized Catherine Fletcher was somehow responsible. She was gone now and his father was, too. A few years ago Ellen had remarried; her second husband was a wonderful man who shared her passion for literature. She’d moved to his home in British Columbia.

  Ellen had come to Hard Luck twice in the past year. Nevertheless, Christian intended to visit her and her husband, Robert, in Vancouver. He knew she was delighted with her new grandchildren, and if he could coordinate the flights, he might be able to bring Scott and Susan with him. A nice way to end their summer vacation. And Abbey and Sawyer could have a second honeymoon.

  While he was in Seattle, Christian decided, he’d look up Allison Reynolds. The thought cheered him. Yes, that was what he’d do. He’d give Allison a call and they’d go out on the town.

  Content, Christian picked up the novel and started reading again. Then it struck him. It seemed unfair—and a bit unrealistic—to arrive in Seattle unannounced and expect Allison to be free.

  Maybe he should call her now. Besides, talking to a woman who was as close to perfect as any human had a right to be would lift his spirits.

  In another moment, he’d dug out her phone number.

  The phone rang three times. “Hello.”

  It was Allison. She sounded...silky. Yes, that was the word for her voice—silky. Soft and a little breathless. A man could get light-headed just listening to her.

  “Allison, this is Christian O’Halloran.”

  “Christian!” Her elevated voice said she was pleased to hear from him. “Don’t tell me you’re in Seattle? Why, I was thinking about you the other day.”

  Forget light-headed, he was almost ecstatic. “You were?” Life was good. Very good.

  “Are you in town?” Her voice was definitely silky.

  “No, but I will be.”

  “When?”

  He couldn’t believe how eager she sounded. “I’m not sure yet. I, uh, thought I’d arrange my schedule around yours. Are you going to be available this month?”

  “I’m available any time you want.” Her voice dipped in a playful whisper. Christian’s chest tightened. This was one way to get Mariah out of his mind.

  * * *

  Early Saturday evening, Christian flew into Fairbanks to meet Mariah. He’d dreaded this moment all week, but now that it was upon him, he discovered that his earlier anxiety had vanished. He credited Allison with this. Knowing that a week from now he’d be spending time with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen left him with a euphoric sense of well-being.

  As he waited at the gate for Mariah’s flight, he realized, somewhat to his surprise, that he was looking forward to seeing her again.

  Sawyer was right; the office had been hectic without her to run interference, take calls, organize schedules and perform the dozens of other tasks she’d taken on. He suspected he’d become accustomed to having her around—and truth be told, he’d actually found himself missing her once or twice.

  The gate where she was due to land was directly across from a gift shop. Deciding this might be a good time to mend fences, Christian wandered inside. The instant he saw the small jade figurine he knew it was the perfect welcome-back gift. No larger than a child’s building block, the green jade had been skillfully sculpted into a bear, gripping a salmon between its teeth.

  On impulse Christian bought it, then stuffed it in his pocket.

  The flight landed on schedule, and Christian watched the passengers file out one by one. Mariah stepped out of the jetway and glanced around expectantly, her arms filled with packages. She looked tanned and rested. When her gaze happened on him, she hesitated, as if uncertain of her reception.

  Christian moved forward. “Welcome home,” he said, grinning.

  “Hi. I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

  He chose to ignore the statement. “How was your week?”

  “Fantastic. Tracy and I had a fabulous time.” She shifted the packages in her arms. “I brought everyone a small gift,” she said, and lines of happiness crinkled at the edges of her eyes. “Even you.”

  “That’s funny, because I got you a gift, too. Just to say we’re glad you’re back.” He took some of the packages out of her arms and together they walked toward the baggage carousel.

  “You bought me something?” She sounded incredulous.

  Perhaps he should give it to her now, seeing that he’d gone out of his way to make her life miserable for the past twelve months. He regretted his earlier behavior. Mariah wasn’t so bad—once he’d gotten used to working with her. Too bad that had taken a year. “Have you had dinner?”

  “Dinner,” she repeated. She frowned and looked at him. “No. Are you feeling all right?”

  Christian chuckled. “I’m feeling just fine.”

  When they’d retrieved her suitcase, he loaded that, along with her carry-on packages, into the truck Midnight Sons kept at the airport.

  He was turning over a new leaf as far as his relationship with Mariah was concerned. True, she was still an irritant, but he was tired of fighting a losing battle. Sawyer thought she was wonderful, and so did almost everyone else. This week without her—and the prospect of seeing Allison—had done wonders for h
is tolerance.

  “You’re taking me to dinner?” she asked when he pulled into his favorite restaurant, the Sourdough Café. The ambience wasn’t great, but the food more than made up for it.

  “Sure,” he said, and climbed out of the cab.

  He led the way inside and selected a booth. Mariah sat across from him. Now that he’d set his prejudices aside, he realized she was a pleasant dinner companion. He laughed wholeheartedly at the tales of her escapades in Anchorage and carefully studied her photographs, which she’d had developed the day before. The most spectacular photos were of the boat tour she’d taken in Prince William Sound. Sometimes Christian forgot how impressive the glaciers were.

  Mariah had captured the deep blue color of the ice with the sun glinting off the canyon’s high walls. The marine-life photos—a pod of whales, several species of seals and a wide variety of birds—were as good as any he’d seen.

  “These are great pictures,” he said enthusiastically.

  She blushed with pleasure. “I’m sort of an amateur photographer.”

  He’d worked with her for more than a year and hadn’t known that.

  Their meal arrived, and the conversation slowed while they feasted on thick roast-beef sandwiches served on sourdough rolls.

  It wasn’t until they were back at the airport that Christian remembered the jade bear in his pocket.

  He parked the truck and turned off the ignition.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said shyly.

  “I’d like it if you and I could start over, Mariah,” he began. He didn’t want her to place any special significance on his words, but simply to take his offer at face value.

  “I’d like that, too.”

  “I don’t know how we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “This last week—with you gone...” He hesitated, not sure how to continue, not wanting to say too much.

  “Yes?” she asked, her voice hushed.

  “It didn’t seem...right.”

  If she was going to gloat, the time was now. To her credit all she said was, “I’ve missed Hard Luck and my friends. I...missed you.”

  He wouldn’t go so far as to admit he’d missed her, but she’d been on his mind. Removing the plastic sack from his flight jacket, he handed it to her. “I saw this at the gift shop in the airport and thought of you.”

  She carefully peeled away the tissue paper and gasped softly when she uncovered the tiny statue.

  “Christian,” she breathed in awe. “It’s lovely. Thank you so much. I got you a silk scarf—nothing much. I read that the early pilots needed them because oil used to spray into the open cockpit. The pilots cleaned their goggles with the scarves.” She stopped abruptly, as if she’d noticed that she was chattering, and stared down at the jade bear.

  “I wanted to apologize for being kind of a jerk the past few months,” he said. “This last week, with you away, I could see what a difference you’ve made at the office. You’ve come a long way since you first moved to Hard Luck, Mariah.”

  She looked up at him and to his astonishment, her eyes were bright with tears.

  Tears.

  “I’ll be the first to admit we’ve had our moments, but you’ve turned out to be an excellent secretary. You’re an important part of Midnight Sons.”

  The tears spilled over, rolling down the sides of her face.

  Christian wanted to tell her that the last thing he’d expected was emotion. He would have, too, if his mind hadn’t been dominated by a more compelling thought. All at once, completely against his will, he experienced the burning need to kiss Mariah Douglas again.

  Three

  Christian was about to kiss her. Mariah read the longing in his eyes and felt a rush of anticipation. Her hand closed around the precious jade figurine as she realized that her patience with Christian had finally paid dividends. She was about to receive her reward.

  Her eyes drifted shut as she awaited his touch. She’d dreamed of this, of exchanging tender kisses, followed by passionate ones. Now the dream was about to become reality.

  Mariah waited for what seemed far too long. Nothing happened. Flustered, she opened her eyes and looked at him. To her utter embarrassment, she saw Christian sitting with his hands locked around the truck’s steering wheel. His jaw was clamped tightly, his mouth tense.

  Mortified, Mariah swallowed and gathered her composure. Christian refused to kiss her? Well, so be it. She would resign herself to his cowardice. And her own disappointment.

  Still, she had to acknowledge that he’d made progress in the week she’d been away. He’d apologized for his childish behavior toward her and bought her a gift. For now that was enough.

  The flight into Hard Luck seemed to go quickly. At first, the nonkissing incident left them both feeling awkward and ill at ease, but after a year of working in the same office, they were familiar enough with each other that they became comfortable companions once again.

  By the time they made their descent into Hard Luck, they were chatting amicably, like people with a number of mutual friends and shared interests.

  After Christian had parked and secured the aircraft, he piled her suitcase and other packages in the company truck. “It’s good to be home,” Mariah whispered with a heartfelt sigh of appreciation. Her week away had been enjoyable and relaxing, but she was grateful to get back to her normal life.

  Although she insisted it wasn’t necessary, Christian drove her to her small log cabin on the outskirts of town. He kept the engine running as he leaped out of the cab and carried in her suitcase. He stopped abruptly just inside the door.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked nervously, stepping up behind him.

  “I’m surprised, that’s all,” he answered after a thoughtful pause.

  “Surprised?”

  “You’ve done a terrific job with this place.” Before she could ask what he meant, he elaborated. “Decorating the old cabin. It’s really nice. Downright homey.”

  “This is my home, Christian.” She’d worked hard to make her space both livable and pleasing to the eye. That meant more than adding lace curtains to the windows. One of the first things she’d done was get rid of the chunky, oddly shaped furniture that came with the cabin. She’d replaced it, a piece at a time, with furniture that suited her needs—not the easiest task when you lived in the Arctic. She’d bought some chairs from Matt, had her bed shipped up from home, ordered fabric and a small table and a replica nineteenth-century oil lamp from catalogs. She had an eye for color and detail and was genuinely pleased with what she’d managed to achieve in her cramped quarters.

  Christian set the suitcase down in the center of the room, on the green-and-rose braided rug she’d purchased on a trip to Fairbanks six months ago. She’d also splurged on a quilt that picked up the same colors.

  “Thank you again,” she said, smiling. “I had a lovely evening. I appreciate your flying in for me, the dinner and...everything else.”

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable with her gratitude. “I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said a bit gruffly.

  “Monday,” she echoed.

  As Christian walked past her, he paused and casually kissed her on the lips. He’d gone another couple of steps before he appeared to realize what he’d done. He came to a sudden halt, shook his head as if to clear it, then continued on to the truck.

  * * *

  Monday morning, when Mariah entered the office, she was greeted with chaos. Two phone lines rang simultaneously and the fax had started transmitting data. Christian was frantically searching through the filing cabinet, demanding to know where she’d hidden the Freemont account.

  Concealing a smile, she located the file, answered the phone and dealt with the fax. It did her heart good to know she’d been missed.
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  “Welcome back,” Sawyer told her two hours later. It was the first quiet moment that morning.

  “Was it this hectic all week?” Mariah had barely had a chance to take off her sweater. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Pilots had been coming and going every few minutes, and they all seemed to need something—a scheduling change, a form, some information. It hadn’t helped that Christian was having a crisis of his own over the Freemont account. He spent much of the morning ranting and raving, unable to locate various crucial documents. Every time, it was Mariah who quietly and efficiently silenced him by supplying whatever he needed.

  “We pretty much handled everything ourselves,” Sawyer answered, “but we’re sure glad you’re back.”

  “You can say that again,” Christian seconded, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. Sawyer glanced at his brother and then at Mariah. He considered them shrewdly.

  Mariah sat down and turned on her computer. The hard drive had begun its familiar hum when Christian ended his telephone conversation and approached her desk.

  “I’m going to need you to make travel arrangements for me,” he told her.

  “Of course.” Christian would be traveling? Somewhat surprised, she reached for a pencil and pad.

  “I’ll be visiting my mother in British Columbia and then stopping in Seattle.”

  “That won’t be any problem. How long will you be away?” Picking up the small calendar on her desk, she waited for him to give her the dates.

  “Say, ten days from Friday—” he pointed to the end of that week “—until Sunday of the following week. And I’d like reservations at our usual hotel in Seattle. Oh, and Scott and Susan will be traveling with me as far as Vancouver. I’ll go on to Seattle Monday or Tuesday, then back to Vancouver and home.”

  “I’ll see to everything this afternoon,” Mariah promised.

  “While you’re at it, could you get me the names of a couple of five-star Seattle restaurants?” Christian asked.

  “Restaurants.” She made a notation on her pad. “I know of a number in the downtown area that cater to businessmen.” And Tracy would be happy to give her suggestions, too.

 

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