by Donna Fasano
Mercifully, they stilled in their blissful torture. “Thought I what?”
A dozen possible responses tumbled through her mind.
Frowned on seducing tourists? Considered her just a duty assignment? Wasn’t interested in pursuing her?
“I thought you wanted to keep your distance from me.”
“I do.” He pressed his body even closer to hers, his hard cock cradling into her backside. “That doesn’t seem to be working out, though.”
He squeezed the tips of her breasts, and she was engulfed in flame.
“Come with me,” he murmured in her ear. “To my place. To my bed."
Her body screamed yes! Yes! Yes!
His hands felt so amazing on her. His tall, muscular body so arousing. His offer so insanely tempting.
For a brief, resplendent moment she imagined actually saying yes...embracing the electric current of arousal arcing between them, and following him home.
But fear held her back.
Not fear over what would happen tonight. But for what would happen in the morning. Or the morning after that. Or, most of all, the morning she had to leave Sweden.
If she gave herself to him now, she was setting herself up for a heartache of major proportions.
She wanted to surrender. Lord, how she wanted to! But she just couldn't do it.
So, she dragged herself back from the brink, her frustrated, unfulfilled desire for him kicking and screaming.
She pulled forward, turned in his arms, and put her hands unsteadily on his chest. "God, Leif. What you do to me." She swallowed. “Believe me, there’s nothing I want more than to say yes.”
The corner of his lip curled at his own words being echoed back at him. "But?"
"It's just not a good idea." She shook her head and looked up at him pleadingly. "You’ve said so yourself, more than once.”
He pulled her back against his body. "Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind.”
She allowed herself to lean into him one last time, savoring the feel of his powerful arms around her. “You aren’t going to make it easy on me, are you?”
“Hell, no. You want me as much as I want you. Don’t even try to deny it.”
She struggled gamely against her own needs. It was an epic battle she almost lost. "I do want you." Almost. She sighed. "I've never met anyone like you before. You get past all my defenses.”
He drew a finger along her cheek, and gave her the ghost of a smile. “Not all of them, obviously.” He traced her jaw and lips with the thumb of his free hand. "I only want to give you pleasure. I promise I won't hurt you."
The searing, aching want in her was agonizing. It was all she could do to keep her train of thought from draining into the hypnotic finger on her mouth. She licked her parched lips and her tongue collided with his thumb for a fraction of a second. She nearly lost the struggle.
"That's not what I'm afraid of,” she whispered.
"Then what?" he coaxed, pulling down lightly on her bottom lip.
The words just seemed to slide out of her mouth on their own, unasked. She couldn't explain it if her life depended on it. Not then. Not later when she thought about what she had said, and what it could mean.
The words simply took over, and she was helpless to stop them. "I'm afraid I might not be able to leave you next week.”
Chapter 28
Leif felt the air leave his lungs. Suddenly, all his conflicting feelings made sense. He squeezed his eyes shut and circled her gently with his arms. “Woman,” he murmured, “who says I plan on letting you leave?
“Oh, Leif.”
With infinite tenderness, he tilted her face up and kissed her. Angling to one side, he brushed his lips back and forth over hers, letting the tip of his tongue glide over her mouth as he held her tight. Her body shuddered, and she leaned into him.
"Älskling—sweetheart."
He coaxed her lips apart, and on a groan, he filled his senses with the taste and feel of her. She was incredible. Everything hadn’t known he’d been longing for, for so long. He would have her tonight, or die of need.
"Change your mind, Jo,” he whispered. “Let me love you. Please.”
He could see the indecision in her eyes, and prayed she'd come to him. Never before had he wanted anything or anyone more in his life.
From behind them, a sudden squawk of his two-way radio split the air. "Leif, old boy, I'm really sorry," an apologetic voice scratched out over the static.
He felt her body tense as the sound finally penetrated the fog of arousal surrounding them.
"Leif, do you read?" the radio demanded.
"Djävlar," he muttered in sublime frustration. "Perfect timing, as always.”
He’d been that close to winning her over, and having a taste of paradise.
"You’d better answer." She dropped her hands from his shoulders and stuffed them under her arms. “It could be important.”
Struggling to calm his tortured body, he reluctantly released her and walked back to the cruiser, swung his leg onto the running board, and picked up the mike. He’d recognized the voice of a senior Customs investigator from Kiruna he often worked joint cases with. "This had better be good, Hans Bertil."
Leif had never called Hans Bertil Eklov anything but Hasse since he'd been old enough to dispense with the 'Mister'. He could almost hear the older man on the other end wince at the formal use of his name. Good. Leif glared at the mike stonily.
"Sorry to interrupt your accident investigation." There was a pause. "But we've gotten word that Tore Eriksson is planning to move some stuff across the border early tomorrow morning. I thought you'd want to know.”
Leif was instantly alert. "Is the information good?”
He and Hasse were working with the local police on this particular case, and had been tracking the notorious drug smuggler for nearly a year, hoping to catch Eriksson on one of his runs. So far, the smuggler had eluded the law, always moving one step ahead of them. The case had gotten under Leif's skin, making him even more determined to put Eriksson behind bars.
"A message came in from Pekka, saying he’d be waiting for us at the usual place at four a.m.”
Pekka was a longtime confidential informant, a loner who lived rough on a remote, densely forested hillside a couple hundred kilometers to the north. His primitive cabin overlooked an isolated ford in the river that smugglers sometimes used to sneak across the border. If the information came from Pekka, it was as reliable as a tip could be.
Leif slammed his fist against the door frame. "Shit. It'll take us two hours just to reach the rendezvous.”
"If Eriksson crosses the border in the early hours of the morning as he usually does, we can still get there in plenty of time.”
Leif let out a curse.
"Sorry about your… uh, investigation."
He glanced out at Joanne, who was walking slowly toward the Landcruiser. "It'll keep. I'll meet you at the turnoff in an hour.”
Swear to God, if Eriksson didn’t show up tonight, Leif was going to strangle someone.
Chapter 29
When Joanne came down early the next morning, she ran into Vanja at the foot of the stairs.
"A big, fat help you were last night," Joanne chided her friend after their greetings.
Vanja’s laugh tinkled through the lobby. "To you or Leif?" she retorted with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Besides, I heard my matchmaking was all for nothing, anyway.”
Joanne recalled the grim look on Leif's face as she slid in beside him in the Landcruiser last night.
Thank God for the timely interruption.
Their kiss had been well on the way to breaking down the little willpower she had left where he was concerned. She couldn't have held out much longer against both Leif and her own feelings of desire.
She should be grateful he’d been called away. And she was grateful. Though...she couldn't help feeling a bit wistful over what might have been.
She gave Vanja a wry smile. "Yes, it was all for n
othing. I turned him down flat.”
"Cruel woman," Vanja taunted, heading for her office. "We'll see how long that lasts at the dance tonight," she said with a wink. "Leif's a dream on the dance floor.”
"Dance? What dance?" Joanne called back, instantly wary.
The ring of laughter echoed from Vanja's office as the door shut behind her.
Joanne stared after her, visions of slow-dancing with Leif wreaking havoc with her imagination.
That alarming little vignette was interrupted by the young woman behind the front desk. "Good morning, Miss Fager. You have a letter.”
Joanne blinked in surprise. There hadn't been enough time for a letter to arrive from the States, even if anyone had been struck with a sudden, inexplicable urge to go old school rather than email.
"Really?”
"Yes, here you go." The receptionist pulled out a large manila envelope from a cubby bearing Joanne's room number, and handed it to her.
"Thanks." She headed for the dining room and ripped it open as she walked. Inside was a folded topographical map of the area around Karesuomi.
What the heck?
She nodded to Gunilla, who held up the coffee pot from across the room. Taking a seat, she looked at the map more closely.
Near the middle, an X had been carefully drawn in red marker. Scrawled next to the X were the words, "The resting place of the plane you search.”
Chapter 30
Two hours past the appointed time had gone by at the rendezvous point, and their contact still hadn’t show up. Leif and Hasse were getting more and more antsy. It wasn't like Pekka to be this late. Especially if Eriksson was making a run.
They finally decided to risk pulling their ATVs out of the Landcruiser and riding them up the long, bumpy trail to the cottage on the Finnish border, where they knew Pekka spent his summers.
As soon as the primitive cabin came into view, Leif spotted him inside, sitting at the breakfast table. He looked up from his first cup of early morning coffee and stared out the window at them in surprise.
Before they reached the front door, he sauntered out, yawning. "Hey guys, you didn't say you'd be coming by this morning. What's up?”
"That's what we should be asking you," said Hasse with an edge of irritation as they shut off the ATVs.
"Me? What's going on?”
Leif’s concern skyrocketed. "You’re saying you didn't call the hut and leave us a message about Eriksson making a drug run tonight?”
"No." Pekka shook his head, clearly mystified.
Leif drilled a hand through his hair. Djävlar. "Then who the hell did call?"
Oh, yeah. He definitely wanted to strangle somebody.
Hasse leaned a hip against his ATV, disgust written all over his face. "Looks like someone led us on a wild goose chase."
"But why?" Leif slapped his thigh with his riding gloves. "What possible reason would there be to get us all the way out here for nothing? There's always someone checking the border in Karesuomi, even if I’m not there."
"Hell if I know." Hasse sighed. "Maybe it was just a practical joke.”
Leif shot him an incredulous look. “Excuse me? A joke?”
Hasse lifted a shoulder. “Or maybe someone didn't like you making moves on your American lady friend last night. Wanted to thwart you.”
Leif stopped dead in his tracks as the idea took hold. It was possible. "That fucking weasel!”
“Who?”
“Bill McAndrrew.”
“That American guy you were telling me about?” Hasse thought about it, then shook his head. “On second thought, how could he have known about Eriksson?”
Leif rubbed his tired face with his hands as a totally irrational spurt of relief twisted through him. “True.”
Hasse glanced at Pekka, who shrugged. "Don’t look at me.”
Leif’s stomach suddenly rolled over as another possible explanation hurtled through his mind. His anger jelled into fear. "Shit.”
Herregud. Joanne!
Someone may have wanted him out of the way because of her, all right. But not for any romantic purposes.
Instantly, he was running back to the ATVs. "We've got to get back," he yelled, hopping on. "Hasse, let's go. Now.”
Chapter 31
Excitement flooded through Joanne. Oh, my God! At last, some concrete information about the plane crash.
She had to tell Leif!
Her heart sank when she remembered he’d told her he probably wouldn't be back till noon or later. The stake-out of the smuggler he’d been called away to apprehend was a couple hundred kilometers away. He’d probably be exhausted after a night with no sleep, and wouldn’t want to go chasing around looking for a phantom plane crash.
Ah, well, she was pretty good with a map. She'd spent plenty of summers camping in the woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. She'd just hike out to the place marked by the X and take a quick look. Leif could help her check it over more closely later on, if she actually found the plane.
No way was she going to wait for him. She was too excited.
As she ate breakfast, she studied the topo map in front of her. It was pretty standard, except for a few unfamiliar Swedish words sprinkled around on it. Especially one word, träsk, was prominent right around the marked area.
She hurried through her meal, then went back to her room and changed into hiking clothes. On her way out to the car, she stopped at the front desk again. "Can you tell me who left this envelope?”
The receptionist shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, no. I didn’t see them."
"Oh." Okay. That was too bad. She would have liked to speak to whoever it was. Maybe the person had more information than just the location of the crash. "Can I leave a note for Vanja?”
"Of course." The receptionist pushed her a note pad and pencil.
"By the way, can you tell me what this means?" Joanne pointed to the word on the map she'd wondered about.
"It means bog.”
Joanne made a face. "Awesome.”
She wrote a quick note to Vanja letting her know where she was going, and after a moment’s hesitation, wrote one to Leif, too, in case he got back earlier than expected.
Heading out to the parking lot, she had a sudden pang of conscience. Last night, he’d made her promise not to leave the hotel without him. And here she was, about to hike out into the middle of a bog all by herself. She'd better be careful not to get lost, or something equally stupid, or he would be seriously peeved with her for disobeying.
Not that she was under any obligation to follow his orders. She’d already told him what she thought of him going all macho and controlling on her. Seriously, he couldn’t really expect her to believe all that bullcrap about the Hungarian secret police being out to get her. The idea was just too ludicrous.
Anyway, by the time he got back to the village, hopefully she'd be back in the hotel, safe and sound, and he’d never know she’d slipped out.
She headed out of town, enjoying the wild and unusual scenery as she drove through the countryside. By the time she’d gotten as close as she could get by car to the place where the X was on the map, she was humming a cheerful tune. She parked by the side of the road, strapped on the small rucksack she’d packed with her cell phone, a bottle of water, and a couple of candy bars, and got out.
Her pulse skipped with anticipation as she surveyed the vast stretch of moors laid out before her. It would be a bit of a trek out to the spot—probably about two or three kilometers—but at least it looked like an easy hike, the landscape basically flat and the vegetation of the tundra stunted and fairly sparse.
She took a deep breath. “Okay, grandpa. Here I come!”
Grabbing the map firmly in her hand, she struck out across the moors.
Chapter 32
It took Joanne an hour of hard hiking to reach the place on the map that had been marked with the red X. On her way, she was slapped in the face by twigs, mercilessly attacked by insects, and her ankles gouged by jagge
d rocks. When she reached her destination, the desolate spot was in the middle of a vast, flat tundra, the only vegetation grasses and stubby bushes.
She did a slow circle on the rocky ground, searching for remnants of the crashed plane.
Her heart sank. No sign of it anywhere.
“Damn,” she muttered. “A complete waste of time and energy.”
Discouraged, she wandered around for a few minutes to see if somehow she could have missed seeing something.
Suddenly, the ground beneath her gave way, turning into an oozing mass of liquid slime.
She screamed as her feet sank into the quagmire.
“Oh, my God!”
Quicksand!
Slowly, the muck crept up her ankles. She tried to pull her feet out. It felt like giant suction cups had latched onto the bottom of her shoes, dragging her down into the mud.
“Shit!”
She struggled, but that only made the slime suck her down farther. It was almost up to her calves.
“Cell phone,” she muttered, and desperately dug it out of her rucksack. She punched the on button.
No bars.
She punched it again.
Still no bars.
“No, no, no!”
Panic flooded through her. Every time she moved, she sank more. When she tried to grab the edge of the sink hole to crawl out, it collapsed.
Please, God. Please.
“This can’t be happening. Help!” she screamed. “Help!”
But way out here, no one was ever going to hear her. She needed to get out of this herself.
Heart thundering, she leaned over as far as she could to grab hold of a nearby bush, but it was several inches out of reach.
She sank down even more. Terror clawed through her.
Think, Joanne, think!
She looked around in desperation. She was up to her knees now.
How the hell was she going to get out of this? She refused to die out here. There had to be something...anything.
