Untamed Desire

by Lindsay McKenna

  Storm set her own mug down abruptly and leaped to her feet, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “That isn’t true!” she cried. “I love flying, but it’s not my whole life.”

  Jim shot her a twisted smile. “I’m even surprised you came over to see how I was. The fact that you took precious time away from your flying is a real compliment to me.”

  Storm squared her shoulders and clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “You’re unspeakably rude. I’d never treat a guest in my house like you’re treating me.” She whirled away, almost running to the foyer, where she jerked her coat off the hanger.

  She was wrestling with her coat and reaching for the doorknob when she was spun around and pinned against the wall. A cry of surprise escaped her throat as she felt the bruising force of Jim’s mouth and his tight embrace. She struggled fiercely at first, but was unable to free herself. Then, as if he realized he was hurting her, his mouth grew more gentle and his tongue slipped into her lips, making her knees tremble dangerously. She clung to him. Gradually, skillfully, his mouth claimed her unmoving lips, making them soft and pliable, responsive to his will. Storm moaned, hungry for the feel of him. Her arms slid around his neck, and she returned his passion with equal fervor.

  Finally Jim pushed her away from him, his eyes blazing, his breath coming hard and fast. “Maybe that will make you stop and think about something except flying for a second,” he growled thickly.

  How she made it out the door and to her car, Storm never knew. She gave Jim a scathing look and began walking blindly. Once seated, she crumpled against the steering wheel, touching her lips with trembling fingers. She was weak and shaky, but not with fear—with desire. Untamed desire ignited so fiercely by Jim that it left her quivering with need.

  Closing her eyes, Storm took several deep breaths, trying desperately to calm down. She had to fly a plane in less than half an hour, and had better be clearheaded. One sentence echoed painfully over and over in her mind. Jack had said it. Now Jim was saying it. “All you can live, eat and breathe is flying.”

  A new anguish seared her heart as she drove away from the condominium complex toward the highway. Tears splashed silently onto her lap, the road a gray blur. Both men couldn’t be wrong. Jim’s accusation hurt more than Jack’s ever had. But why did he think nothing but flying had any meaning for her? Why?

  She had no answer, and shored up her broken defenses as best she could.

  As she swung into the parking lot at Bradford’s, she saw the group of hunters she was supposed to transport already waiting for her at the door of the plane.

  “Damn you, Jim Talbot,” she whispered hoarsely, climbing out of the car.

  It was nearly one o’clock in the morning when Storm returned to Anchorage. Normally at this time only the “on-call” pilot was in the office, but as Storm cut the engines, she saw Jim moving swiftly from the office toward her plane. Annoyed, she climbed to the back of the plane and unlatched the hatch door, allowing him to enter.

  “Why are you so late?” he demanded, glaring at her.

  She frowned. “The starboard engine overheated on the return flight. The oil pressure dropped, and I practically had to fly home on one engine.”

  Jim held out his hand to help her down. “But Charlie just checked this plane. It was in excellent condition when you left this morning.”

  Storm’s senses spun at the scent of his freshly showered body, and she tried to assemble her fragmented thoughts. He was clearly upset, but she wasn’t sure with whom.

  “All I know,” she explained, “is that when I made a sweep of the indicators, the needle plunged.”

  Jim didn’t seem satisfied and walked to the cooling engine to run his hand along the surface. “Look at this.” Storm sighed deeply and trudged over to where he stood. A thick coating of oil formed black streaks on the white exterior. “Definitely an oil leak,” Storm confirmed.

  Jim shook his head, more angry than before. “Why didn’t you radio in about the situation?”

  “Because as long as I held the engine to the minimum RPMs, I didn’t have to feather it. And as long as I don’t have to turn off an engine, I don’t consider the situation an emergency.”

  He took her arm firmly, escorting her back to the office. “Next time, Storm, call it in. I don’t give a damn how small an emergency you think it is. I don’t want you taking any chances. Understand?”

  Storm pulled away, fighting the almost overwhelming need to be close to him. “Is that standard policy or a special request because I’m a woman pilot?” she demanded.

  His gray eyes darkened. “I was worried about you, Storm. And don’t look at me as if you don’t believe me.”

  She managed a cutting smile and walked toward the office. “After our encounter this afternoon, can you blame me? We mix like oil and water.”

  “Lately we have,” he agreed softly, “but it wasn’t always like that.”

  Storm colored fiercely at the unbidden memories that came to mind, but she said nothing as she entered the office. There she turned and faced him. A curious light shone in his eyes, and immediately her anger dissipated.

  “I can’t take this, Jim,” she cried out. “I hate quarreling. My marriage was one big fight, and I’m still raw from it. Please, can’t we talk civilly to each other?”

  “I’m sorry, Storm,” Jim said, relenting. “I’m still mad about Danziger—and I was worried sick when you didn’t come in on time.”

  Storm was shaken by the concern in his voice. She lifted her chin defiantly and looked straight into his unreadable eyes. “I suppose you’re going to blame me for the gauge reading,” she began tentatively.

  “No,” he returned evenly.

  She watched the play of emotions on his face. “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I’m tired and crabby. I didn’t mean to provoke you.”

  A slight smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “I apologize, too. For this afternoon.”

  “Forget it. It’s like Ray was saying—we’re all edgy from overwork and have to let off steam somehow.” She grinned. “Maybe Danziger did have the right idea. A good, stiff belt might help.”

  Jim shrugged lazily. “I know of a few other tranquilizers that are far more enjoyable.”

  Storm caught the glint in his eyes and returned his smile. “Yes, there are other things,” she agreed softly, turning to finish the post-flight paperwork—and to hide her nervousness.

  She raised her head a few moments later. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this about Danziger, but—”

  “Woman’s intuition?” he prodded.

  She shrugged. “Call it that. Do you object?”

  His smile was warm. “Not at all.”

  She put the pen down on her reports, trying to find the correct words. “Of all the pilots I met the first day, Danziger was the only one who made me feel uneasy. It had something to do with the way he looks and walks, and with the nasty comments he made about me.”

  “Danziger was a military pilot for two tours, Storm,” Jim explained. “War takes a terrible toll on a person, and he’s no exception. He’s a little rough around the edges, that’s all. A military man.”

  “He’s militaristic, Jim,” she amended. She waved her hands in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t trust him, and I’ve always been glad you never signed me up to fly with him.”

  “I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Jim admitted.

  “See? You agree!”

  “What?”

  “That he’s not trustworthy.”

  “He’s a good pilot,” he countered. “He can make an aircraft do things I’ve never seen any other pilot do.”

  Storm shivered and returned to her paperwork. “He’s dangerous,” she said with finality, “and don’t ask me to explain why I feel that way.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about it any longer. Dan fired him outright and now the rest of us have to shoulder his load on top of everything else.”

  “Are you sorry he’s gone?”
>
  “No. It’s been coming on for quite a while. I’m just sorry it happened at the height of the season.”

  Silence fell between them, yet Storm didn’t feel uncomfortable about it this time. Finally, Jim leaned over the desk and took the pen out of her hand. “That’s enough work, Storm. I think you need a few lessons in how to relax. Come on, get your purse and coat and let’s go.”

  Storm colored. “Go where?”

  “Home. To my place. I make good popcorn over the fire, and there’s a bottle of French burgundy I’ve been waiting to share with someone special. Interested?”

  She smiled shyly. “It sounds nice, Jim. But—” her laugh was infectious “—there’s one condition. Well, actually two.”

  He nodded. “Name them.”

  “That we don’t argue, and that I can have butter on my popcorn.”

  He held out his hand. “You’ve got them. A truce for the night and butter on the lady’s popcorn.”

  Chapter Nine

  STORM LEANED BACK against a pillow, facing the open fire, a half-full wineglass in her hand. The fire crackled, sending out a pleasant warmth, and she stretched out languidly on the bearskin rug. Jim refilled her glass and set two bowls of popcorn beside her.

  “Two bowls?” she asked.

  “I don’t like butter on mine.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Just another difference between you and me.” She laughed.

  Jim smiled as he nibbled on a handful of popcorn. “I prefer to call it another dimension of our individual personalities.” He sipped the wine, a warm gleam in his eyes. “How would you describe this?” He held up his partially filled glass.

  “It’s half-empty.”

  “It’s half-full. You’ve been conditioned to see it as a loss, not a gain.”

  Storm glared at him. “Are you trying to tell me I’m a pessimist?”

  “Now, take it easy. Don’t get that lovely Irish dander up tonight. I’m just pointing out that perhaps you should readjust the way you see things.”

  “You mean I should change my perceptions.”

  “Broaden them,” he corrected gently.

  Storm shrugged and set down the crystal glass. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what you accused me of earlier today.” The words came out haltingly, laced with pain. “You have to understand something, Jim. I—I’ve struggled to succeed in a business that hasn’t always been receptive to a woman pilot. Men have constantly tried to dismiss my ability. I’ve had to be better at everything to compensate. Until I was twenty-seven I shied away from all men. If I dated a pilot, sooner or later he’d start to compete with me. The men I went out with who weren’t pilots didn’t like adjusting to my flight schedule.” She shrugged again and stole a glance at him. “I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.”

  Jim set the bowls aside and pulled Storm into his arms. “Go on,” he coaxed gently. “What about your ex-husband? How did he fit into your life?”

  Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact that it was very late and she was exhausted. Whatever it was, Storm didn’t fight her need simply to be near Jim. She rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she watched the flames licking up the chimney.

  “Jack was a pilot, terribly flamboyant, good-natured and confident of his ability as both a pilot and a lover. I was cool, detached and competent. I was at an all-time low when I met him. I was so lonely that, when I look back on it now, I wonder if I might not have fallen for anyone who came along.”

  “Did you love him?”

  She sighed and nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  She wanted to add that since meeting Jim, her perception of love had changed drastically. What she felt for Jim was strong and good and deep, not the fluttery giddiness she’d felt for Jack.

  “Did he try to compete with you, too?” Jim asked.

  “Not at first. I was a flight instructor at another school, and he was setting up his own school. He managed to lure me away. I became the chief instructor and manager.”

  “Was that before or after you got married?”

  “After.”

  “And then?”

  “Then,” she murmured sadly. “We’d been married only a year when he began to change. He accused me of spending too much time at the school. He said I wasn’t home—” she swallowed hard “—to make love to him.”

  “But weren’t you doing the heavy management and bookkeeping plus handling teaching duties?” Jim asked.

  “Yes, and I tried to explain that to him,” she went on. “I didn’t want the supervisory responsibility, but Jack was terrible with figures, and if I didn’t keep a tight rein on the money, it ran right through his fingers. But he was an excellent instructor, and between us we built a very successful business.”

  “Were there any other instructors to take part of your load?”

  “No. Jack felt we could save money if we did all the teaching ourselves.”

  “And he still wanted you to play hausfrau, wife and lover?”

  Storm managed a small laugh. Jim made it sound like a ridiculous load to carry. But at the time she hadn’t been able to see the situation clearly. “I’m afraid I flunked the hausfrau and wife roles,” she confided.

  “And the role of lover?” he asked softly.

  Storm pulled away, her eyes filled with hurt. “Yes,” she answered finally, “I failed that, too.” She folded her hands in her lap and stared into the fire. “Jack used our deteriorating relationship as an excuse to have affairs.”

  Jim drew Storm back into his arms. At that moment, it took every ounce of her control to keep from sobbing. She wrapped her arms about his waist, content to rest against his body, listening to the beat of his strong, steady heart.

  “The fact of it was, Irish storm goddess,” Jim whispered, “you were working twelve-to-fifteen hours a day and then coming home exhausted.”

  Storm sniffed. “You make it sound as if I should have been able to see my mistake then.”

  Jim chuckled gently. “No, honey. We rarely see the forest for the trees. I just want to help you put your past in the proper perspective.”

  Storm frowned. “I don’t understand.” Jim leaned over and kissed her forehead. “All I’m saying is that you worked long and hard to establish yourself in the airline industry. Couple that with your effort to fulfill the demands of a husband who used you to fulfill his own dreams, and you can see how narrow your existence has been. You don’t know how to relax and enjoy life, that’s all.”

  He smiled tenderly, forcing her chin up until their eyes met. “I want to show you how to enjoy life, Storm. I want to hear you laugh. To see your blue eyes wide with pleasure when I make love to you,” he whispered, his breath moist and warm against her cheek.

  His mouth curved across her parted lips in a tender kiss. She leaned upward, wanting more of his gentle strength. His words echoed melodiously in her thoughts as she pressed against his body. He groaned, his arms slipping tightly around her. Nuzzling her neck with light, provocative kisses, he growled, “I can’t live without you, Storm. God knows, I tried to avoid you for three weeks.” He pulled away, his eyes turbulent with barely constrained passion.

  She gave him a startled look. “You—you were avoiding me?”

  He sighed, slipping his fingers through her thick copper hair. “I tried to tell myself that what I felt for you wouldn’t last. That when I didn’t see you, I’d forget you.” He laughed softly. “I’ve been miserable without you, Storm. I missed your voice, your ideas. I love watching you.” He leaned down, kissing her nose. “Do you have any idea how many emotions register on your face?”

  Storm was stunned by Jim’s admission, and suddenly her old uncertainties reared their ugly heads. Even as her heart blossomed with love for him, her thoughts spiraled back to the past, shattering her fragile sense of self-worth. She rose hastily to her feet and moved away, her back to the fireplace.

  “Is this your way of getting me to quit my job?” she demanded huskily.

/>   She wanted to recall her harsh words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Jim stood up and stared at her across the room, his eyes flashing silver fire. She wrapped her arms about herself, unable to meet his gaze.

  “Are you telling me you don’t want me around?” he asked harshly.

  “I—I don’t know.” Her voice sounded uncertain, and she hated her indecision. He had been trying to fire her for three months now, and she didn’t know whether to believe her heart or her distrustful head. She rubbed her forehead, her eyes large and dazed. “Please, Jim, I need time. Time to think. I’m so mixed up….”

  He seemed to relax. “All right,” he agreed. “You’re tired, and maybe I’ve unloaded too much on you. Let me take you home.”

  She nodded dumbly and went to get her coat.

  Later that night, after Jim had dropped her off at her apartment, Storm lay in bed listening to the clock ticking in the darkness. Jim had walked her to the door without making a move to touch her. That hurt even more. Was his saying he cared for her just another devious method to put her off her guard and then get her to quit? Or was he telling the truth? Was he really falling in love with her?

  Storm groaned and turned onto her stomach. Why couldn’t life be simple and straightforward? Damn Jack for turning her into a defensive, distrustful person. Damn herself for not being strong enough—brave enough—to escape his invisible hold on her.

  The second day of November dawned clear and cold. Storm slept until noon and awakened groggy and depressed. A hot bath helped somewhat, as did a careful application of makeup. Staring at herself in the mirror, Storm realized how pale she looked. There was a heavy, painful feeling in her chest, and she touched her mint-green blouse absently. Why couldn’t she wipe out her past and just believe Jim without mistrusting his actions?

  She tied her hair in a kelly-green ribbon, then untied it in disgust, allowing her hair to tumble loosely around her shoulders. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she wanted Jim to notice her. He made her feel attractive, and more feminine than she’d ever felt before. Anxiously, she picked up her coat and shoulder bag, eager to get to the office.