Bastian: A Secret Baby Romance (15 page)

Wes looked around, but in the darkness of the night we couldn’t see anything. Still, the humming sound increased, and after a moment I realized what it was. “That’s an engine!”

O
ur story caused
headlines when we were picked up. The Park Rangers, who’d come at first to ticket us for an illegal fire, instead ended up rescuing us and taking us to the far side of the lake, where a helicopter was dispatched to evacuate us. Our parents met us in Vancouver, and to say it was a joyful reunion would be an understatement.

The first thing my father did when I got off the helicopter was pull me into a hug, the type of deep embrace I hadn’t felt since I was seven or eight years old.

“Wes, thank God,” he whispered as I returned the hug. It was a little weird, considering I hadn’t hugged my dad in such a long time, but I welcomed it. Gerald Brandt looked like he had aged a decade in the week Robin and I were missing in the mountains, his hair thinner than I had ever seen, and with a little more noticeable gray. “When the Rangers called saying they had found the plane with only the pilot’s body, I was hopeful, but as the days went on . . . ”

I held him as he finally let loose with his emotions, and I felt him cry against my chest. Looking over at Robin, I could see that she and Rebekah were also embracing, and that both of them were crying. I was a little broken up over the whole reunion, but I wasn’t about to show that much emotion. “It’s okay, Dad,” I said as we broke our embrace. “Robin and I are fine.”

“Still, your next vacation is to Disneyland or something,” he replied, regaining his composure and patting me on the shoulder. I could already see his strength and confidence returning and knew he’d be fine. “Someplace where the biggest danger is indigestion or something.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Well, I already promised Robin a weekend at a five-star hotel,” I said, looking over as she and Rebekah finally stopped wiping at their eyes and embracing. “That sound safe enough for you?”

“It sounds great, but first, let’s get the two of you home. I know Chef and Winston are both desperate to see you.”

Coming home was a strange experience, especially after Robin and I had to sleep in separate beds again. The first night, I know I woke up at least twice in a cold sweat, looking around for Robin before I realized that we were back home and trying to hide our feelings for one another—at least for the moment. Her scream at four in the morning told me she was going through her own problems, and the next night, both of us ended up curled up on the couch in the family room together, sleeping peacefully until Rebekah woke us up around nine in the morning.

“I’d let you two sleep longer,” she said, stroking Robin’s hair while looking at me, “but there are some men from the insurance company who are coming by. They want to talk about the crash.”

I nodded and let go of Robin, who rolled to the floor with a grace I hadn’t seen from her before. Our time in the wild had taught her a lot about herself. “Thanks, Mom,” I said, trying to convey appreciation for all sorts of things in just those two words.

That she didn’t ask any questions about how or why we ended up on the couch sleeping together was just the beginning. I’m sure that both she and my Father, who I’d taken to calling Dad more often after our embrace, could see that something had changed between Robin and me. Neither of them pushed the issue, and I wasn’t quite sure if they suspected something between us or if they just assumed it was that we’d grew closer from going through the whole crash ordeal. Robin and I hadn’t discussed the issue much either, although we both could see looking into the other’s eyes that we would have to have a reckoning about it at some point, the sooner the better. I’m not sure how long either of us could keep this up.

The meeting with the insurance company went better than I had expected. The medical examiner had determined that the pilot had died of a stroke, which had paralyzed him and caused him to send the plane into its final descent. Since neither Robin nor I sustained serious injuries—and let’s face it, our family didn’t need the money—I was more than willing to donate my check to the pilot’s wife, who had been left a widow with two children. Robin did the same thing. Afterward, the two of us went on a walk through the grounds of the mansion, which sat on about ten acres.

“So what now?” Robin asked me as we walked, looking beautiful in normal jeans and a sweatshirt. “I mean, where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking at the trees on the grounds, so different from the pines of the Canadian forest. These were hardwoods, elms and oaks mostly, that Dad had carefully cultivated by gardeners. “I do know I don’t want to go back to the way things were.”

“What do you mean?” Robin said, her eyes still darting around. It was a habit that died hard, constantly looking out for danger. I know that instinct firsthand.

I stopped and took her hands, knowing we were alone and out of sight. “Robin, I love you, and I’m not going to just chalk up what has happened between us to the effects of a plane crash. We made love because we wanted to, because you love me and I love you. And I don’t want to let that go just because it’s going to be difficult explaining it to everyone.”

Robin looked me in my eyes, those obsidian depths of hers boring into my soul for a moment before smiling and kissing my nose. “Good, because I feel the exact same way. I have no damn clue how we’re supposed to tell Mom and Dad, but we’ll figure it out.” She seemed giddy, and it gave me confidence in what I knew we’d soon have to do.

Our walk back to the house was amazing. We both walked in silence, not saying a word, but just walked hand in hand. As we neared the house, though, we exchanged a glance and let go. It was clear we were going to continue our relationship, but we weren’t quite ready to tell the world.

When we got finally reached the house, Rebekah was smiling and waiting for us, and I could see by the look in her eyes that she had something interesting to share with us.

“What is it?”

“Well, we just got a call from CNN. How would you guys like to do an interview?”

T
he studio was
a lot less glamorous than I thought it would be. I mean, I had anticipated that most of the decoration would be in front of the camera, but other than the stage settings, the entire sound stage was more or less a warehouse. The catering area was set up on folding tables that I swore came from Wal-Mart, although the food was pretty good. Tawny, the production assistant who had met us at the Atlanta Hartsfield Airport, hovered over both of us as we went through makeup, which I thought was kind of funny.

Watching Wes try to sit still while they applied foundation, color, and everything else left me suppressing giggles like a schoolgirl. I knew he had to be in torture, but watching a man’s man like him sit there and endure it was hilarious. Wes gave me a look that told me he knew exactly what I was amused about.

Before he could say anything, the reporter came over, and I had to admit I was a little star struck. Sarah Washington wasn’t the top interviewer for CNN, but she was one of their weekend morning hosts, and she was exactly what news agencies looked for in a television personality. Tall, blonde, leggy, with just enough cleavage to tease without looking slutty. She looked like that hot teacher or the sexy executive that every man has a fantasy about, if you know what I mean.

“Hi guys, I just wanted to come over before the show, kind of walk you through the interview,” she said, her eyes going mostly to Wes. I had to will myself to not feel a hint of possessiveness. “If you want, you can watch the rest of the taping from the sidelines too.”

Watching the program get filmed was actually pretty interesting. The giant sound stage acted like a three-part circus. In the main section, the lead anchor was sitting doing the live news, along with introducing segments that were being prepped on the two wing sections of the studio. We got to watch as two other interviews were done, one live and another being taped for playing throughout the day.

When it was our turn, we were set up in the smaller of the two interview studios, in chairs that I thought were surprisingly uncomfortable for the purpose. Sarah was seated across from us, her long legs crossed demurely but the short skirt showing Wes enough leg that I’m sure she knew what she was doing. I sighed inwardly and kept my composure.

In any case, the interview was pretty cut and dry. The story started with a quick video montage of the crash site and a digital recreation of our flight, along with pieced in clips of the search parties looking for us. Sarah then took over, talking a bit about how we had been found by the Park Rangers, and then she launched into her questions.

Since our story was kind of a feel good piece, most of the questions were softballs; she wasn’t trying to really pry into what went on. There were quite a few gasps of surprise when we told the story of my encounter with the wolf, and even Sarah’s face lost a bit of that practiced friendly but blank expression. “That’s amazing,” she said honestly, and I could see by the look in her eyes that it was the first time she had actually started to see me as a person, and not just another interview. “And your brother didn’t help you at all?”

“I was too far away, it was over before I could even get there,” Wes said. “But Robin was amazing, truly amazing. I didn’t know she had that in her. Not just with the wolf, but the whole week we were out there.”

I had to blink back tears at Wes’s kind words, and Sarah wrapped up the interview with a few more easy questions, nothing too difficult. She had well wishes for us both, and a pass over to the live anchor at the desk. Afterward, Sarah was kind enough to at least give us a real thanks before going off to her next assignment.

We got to hang out a bit longer while the producers wrapped up some last-minute checks for the live broadcast, and the same production assistant who had escorted us from the airport to the studio came by with checks from CNN as a thank you. They weren’t for much, but CNN was paying for our hotel in Atlanta, and like Wes had promised, it was five-star. The Hyatt at Buckhead was one of the best luxury hotels in Atlanta, and CNN hadn’t batted an eye when Wes and I requested that we share a suite. That the suite had two beds was expected, and we didn’t mind at all.

G
etting to the hotel
, Robin and I were both happy and relaxed. The interview went better than we had expected, and we had even gotten approached on the way out by a producer from one of CNN’s sister channels, wanting to do an hour-long “dramatic documentary” of our adventure, and asked if we would be willing to work with him on it. The money was a nice little sum, something that I could use without having to go into my Swiss and Cayman Islands accounts. I waited until we were back in the Hyatt to give Robin my big news, however.

“So, I need some advice from you,” I said once we were in our suite, and I relaxed into the sofa, pulling her down with me. “Now that I’m retired from the intelligence services, what do you suggest I do?”

“What do you mean?” Robin asked me, turning her surprised eyes to me. “I know you were telling me you were tired of it when we were out there, but retired?”

“Of course,” I said, chuckling and squeezing her tight. “I couldn’t imagine going behind enemy borders any longer with you in my life, Robin. I just used the CNN interview as an excuse. After all, it’s kind of hard to be a secret agent when you’ve done public interviews and documentaries, and your face is now known. Just ask Valerie Worthington.”

Robin chuckled and kissed me. “Is that why you agreed to do this? I thought you just wanted a cheap way to give me my five-star hotel weekend.”

I laughed and kissed her again. “Never. You would’ve gotten that regardless. I just have to get the money out of the Caymans.”

Our kiss grew deeper, Robin’s soft lips caressing mine, her hands running over my chest. We hadn’t had a chance to make love in almost a week since being back at home, and both of us were hungry for one another. My hands roamed over Robin’s ass as she swung her leg over me to straddle my waist, hurriedly unbuttoning my shirt in between kisses. “I need you so much,” she moaned. “I’ve missed your touch.”

“Shhh,” I soothed, pushing her back gently and giving us space. “We have this hotel room for the entire weekend, and we don’t fly home until Monday morning. Let’s take our time, really make some memories and enjoy the time together. No rush, no need to hurry. Just you and me.”

Robin took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, climbing off my lap, which felt empty as soon as she did. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, her hands shaking in desire, and I knew I felt the same way.

“I was thinking this suite has one hell of a big tub.”

W
es
and I had made love in the back of a wrecked plane and in the middle of a forest. Since getting back to civilization, the most we had been able to get in were a few kisses when we knew no one was watching us. So in a lot of ways, doing the whole cliché hotel bit was actually exotic for us.

The bathroom was big, almost as big as Gerald’s back at the mansion. Wes insisted that I wait in the other part of the suite while he took a bag and set up the bath, only letting me in after he was done. The effect was sweet and romantic. The lights were dimmed, giving it an evening-like glow, and the bath was filled with floral scented bubbles. He had even lit a few votive candles that added to the effect.

“I would have used pine scent, but I didn’t want to be sarcastic,” he teased as I walked in, closing the door behind me. With the last of the afternoon daylight cut off, the entire bathroom looked and felt like a cool secluded evening, private and exotic. “Go ahead and get undressed for the bath.”

I could feel Wes’s eyes on me as I stripped for him, something I had been wanting to do for a while. It was another funny little thing about our relationship: we had been lovers for almost two weeks, had sex twice, and slept together for most of that time, but he had yet to see me fully naked.

His eyes took me in, devouring me as I stood before him, suddenly self-conscious of my hips and how my ribs still stood out against my skin. I was still skinnier than what I liked, but if Wes didn’t approve, I couldn’t see it in his face. Instead, he followed me with his eyes as I slipped into the water, the warm luxury covering me all the way to my chin. “It feels amazing,” I said in thanks. “I do hope you’re planning on joining me.”