Untamed Desire (5 page)

As his meaty hand came forward to touch her, Storm reacted out of blind fear and smashed the clipboard down on his wrist.

Rickson gave a yelp and jerked his hand back against his body, rubbing it gingerly.

Storm’s panic increased. As Rickson growled a curse, she lunged for the hatch between the cockpit and cabin. But the hunter’s bulky body blocked all but a small portion of it, and Storm uttered a curse as she jammed herself into him, falling through the door to the now-empty cabin. Scrambling to her feet, she nearly fell again as her wobbly knees threatened to collapse beneath her.

“You ain’t gettin’ away with this!” Rickson yelled, making a grab for her.

Storm spun around at the growl in his voice and took a step back to avoid his oncoming hand. Simultaneously, her heel slipped out the opening and she slammed her head against the bulkhead. She tried to regain her lost balance, but a croak jammed in her constricted throat as blackness began to close in on her. She felt herself falling and tried to protect herself from the rising concrete.

Strong, steadying hands caught her in midair and in that brief second, she knew they were Jim Talbot’s. A cry of relief broke from her lips as she sagged into his embrace.

“Stay right where you are,” Jim thundered up at Rickson. The hunter poked his head out the hatch door, his eyes round with fright.

“I didn’t do a thing! That slut made a pass at me, and I was just following up on it. Ask the other guys if you don’t believe me,” he added, lifting the whiskey bottle to his lips and drinking deeply.

Jim cursed softly and set Storm gently down on the apron. “Storm? Are you all right?” he demanded, pushing her hair back from her pale face. “Answer me,” he urged.

Storm gulped hard, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. She nodded once and buried her face in her hands, trembling.

“What happened?” Oscelot demanded, coming up behind them out of the crowd of men that had gathered.

Jim handed Storm over to him. “Take care of her for a minute,” he ordered tersely, and then stood up, heading toward Rickson.

“Hey!” the hunter yelped, backing off into the cabin. “I didn’t do a thing, dammit! Get your hands off me!”

Storm sat morosely in Jim Talbot’s office, a cup of coffee generously laced with whiskey in her hand. Oscelot had escorted her there and then closed the door so that she could be alone. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling utterly miserable. It was just this sort of incident that Jim would cite as proof that she wasn’t fit for the type of flight service Bradford operated.

She drew her legs up, placing her feet on the chair seat and resting her forehead against the cup on her knees. It was finished; she knew it. How many people had witnessed the whole wretched scene? She remembered Oscelot, Ray Leeper and that grinning idiot Danziger. All she needed now was to have Dan Bradford hear of it. Storm released a shuddering sigh. Well, it really didn’t matter. Bradford would be horrified and just as embarrassed as she was about the incident. Maybe it proved Jim’s point, after all. Maybe she couldn’t control the situation when hunters were involved. Maybe she wasn’t fit for the job.

She opened her eyes. If only…oh, God, the if-onlys…If only she hadn’t overreacted so badly. She should have maintained control and calmly talked her way out of the situation. The bitter taste of bile coated her mouth and throat.

Well, how many times had she tried to talk to Jack in one of his fits of temper? And what had it ever accomplished? Nothing.

Storm choked back a sob. She’d allowed Jack to physically and mentally abuse her. His brand of brutality consisted of taking her by force every two or three months. Working twelve-to-fourteen hours a day and then trying to keep the home and their personal life together had been impossible. Jack had angrily accused her of being frigid and then set about disproving his allegations. She shuddered, hating the thought of a man’s hands on her body. All except for Jim Talbot’s warming touch. Not once had she winced when he touched her. It was magic…. It meant that there was still a chance for her to grow whole again.

The door opened and closed quietly, and Storm met Jim’s penetrating look.

“Storm?”

She fought to halt the flow of tears his voice brought very quickly to the surface. Trying to swallow them back, she realized it was something about Jim Talbot that brought all her deeply hidden emotions to the surface.

“You’re still shaking. Hey, look at me.” Jim took the coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the desk. Very gently, he lifted her chin. He knelt down, his eyes narrow with concern, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. “Rickson told me everything. It won’t happen again. Not ever, I promise you….”

She looked up at him miserably, her lips parted and trembling. “Give me another chance,” she gulped. “I want to keep this job! You don’t know why I reacted—”

Jim nodded grimly, his hands cupping her wet, tear-stained face. “I have an idea,” he answered, his anger resurfacing. “You overreacted. It has something to do with your past, right? Now, don’t look away from me, Storm. Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” she sobbed quietly. “He reminded me of—”

“Come here,” he interrupted huskily, and lifted her to her feet, pulling her into his arms.

The gentle touch of his hand stroking her hair released the dam of pent-up tears. Storm wept without restraint within his protective arms, until finally her fear was washed away. Eventually, other sounds crept into her consciousness—a jet taking off in the distance, the wind gusting against the window behind them and the steady beat of Jim’s heart.

“Better?” Jim asked.

“Better,” she agreed, her voice strained.

“Storm, I don’t want you to think your job’s in jeopardy because of this. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault he made a move—”

“Don’t talk about it, please,” she begged hoarsely, pulling away from him. She sat back down in the chair, trying to force her confused emotions into order.

Jim rested against his desk, his expression grim as he watched her.

“Sometime,” he murmured, “you and I are going to have to talk about your past.”

Storm’s eyes widened. “I said it won’t happen again! Why won’t you believe me? Or is every damn hunting party like Rickson’s? Do I have to take karate lessons to defend myself against these—these animals?”

Jim smelled the contents of her cup and handed it back to her. “Take a drink,” he ordered, his tone coaxing.

She swallowed, inhaling sharply at the strength of the whiskey as it curled down into her knotted stomach.

“What happened today is not the norm. You were at the Monday-morning conference. Dan gave us ten pickups of various hunters’ groups, and this was the only one he warned us about. Doesn’t that tell you that most parties of fishermen, photographers and hunters aren’t like Rickson’s?”

“Great,” she muttered. “My luck is holding as usual.”

Jim grinned briefly. “Looks like the patient is going to live. Your dark sense of humor is coming back.”

“It’s the only thing that’s kept me in one piece,” she shot back, more strongly than she intended.

He seemed unaffected by her touchiness. “I don’t think you’ll have to take karate lessons. You did a pretty good job with that clipboard. You broke one of the bones in his wrist.”

Storm groaned, and stood up restlessly. “Oh, no! Will he sue?”

“No. Personally, I don’t think it could have happened to a more deserving person. You got his gun arm, so he’s out of commission for the entire season. Maybe he’ll think twice before he tries to manhandle the next woman he takes a fancy to. Don’t look so worried. The hunters all sign a release before flying with Bradford’s. He’s so worried you might press charges, that a lawsuit against you is the last thing on his mind.”

Her shoulders relaxed at that news, and her features became more animated. “Maybe he’ll be scared for life of clipboards wielded by women pilots?”

“You got it. Listen, I’m going to have Oscelot drive you home, and I want you to take tomorrow off. I’ll fly Rickson’s group to Camp Five and take Danziger along as copilot. This has been a rough start for you. Come in Wednesday morning at 8:00 a.m., and we’ll schedule you to fly supplies into some of the camps and get you used to our air space and landmarks.”

Storm sat up straight in disbelief. “Then I still have my job?” she asked.

“Yes. If you want it.”

“I do…very much. It means a new start in my life….”

“I know,” he said, his voice growing softer, “and I think I’m beginning to understand why. I’ll see you later. Just get some rest?”

STELLA EYED THE
tally of flights flown by the pilots while Storm leaned against the wall, reading the passenger log for her next flight. The secretary frowned and looked up.

“You know, honey, you’ve been working your tail off this last couple of weeks.”

Storm looked up absently, her mind lingering over the data in her hands. “What? Oh, the missions? Isn’t it like this every hunting season?”

“Sure,” Stella replied, putting down the tally sheet and jabbing her index finger at the figures. “But look here. You’ve flown almost one-third more than our most seasoned pilots.”

Storm shrugged and managed a half smile. “I think Jim is trying to find out whether I can stand the pressure that goes along with the territory.”

“He’s never done that with his other pilots.”

“They weren’t women,” Storm corrected.

“Humph! If you ask me, that’s ridiculous! You’ve proven yourself many times over. And look at you. Why, you must have lost ten pounds. Young woman, you’re going to get sick if you don’t speak up. Talk to Dan. He’ll ease the load. This just isn’t fair.”

Storm only half heard Stella’s anxious words. Although she didn’t want to admit it, the squabble with Rickson might have colored Jim’s judgment of her ability. She sighed deeply, laid the report aside and stared out the window. Trees in brilliant hues of red, orange and brown stood in startling contrast to the green of spruce and pine forests covering the slopes above Anchorage. A pain squeezed her heart as she thought of Jim. Did she ever stop thinking about the man? He was a menace, a weaver of spells upon her, and she felt terribly unsure of herself with him.

Ever since the incident with Rickson, she’d seen very little of Jim. Apparently he’d changed his mind about having her fly everywhere with him. The last two weeks had included a lesson about where all the camps were located as well as the continuous task of hauling group after group of hunters into the interior of the Alaskan wilderness. She’d flown with almost everyone—but never with Jim.

She hadn’t been bothered by another hunter and was beginning to feel more at ease around the men.

Maybe Jim was right. She couldn’t handle every situation, but she could certainly handle most of them.

“Do me a favor, honey, will you?” asked Stella.

Storm turned. “Sure.”

“See that door across the way? That leads down a winding hall to a little storeroom, where I keep our office supplies. I’m running low on computer print cartridges. Will you get me a few? I can’t leave ‘cause an important call is supposed to be coming through for Mr. Bradford.”

Storm nodded. “Be happy to. I have an hour before the next bunch of hunters comes in.”

“Ahh. If I were organized, I’d have the cartridges here, but it won’t take you long,” Stella chortled.

Storm joined her laughter. Knowing Stella’s methods of organization, she conceded it would take at least five minutes of rummaging even to find the supplies in that messy back room.

It actually took her twenty minutes. Gripping the small box of cartridges in her right hand, she began threading her way back down the poorly lit hallway. Immediately, voices drifted within earshot, and Storm slowed her steps. She recognized Jim Talbot’s voice, and her heartbeat skyrocketed. He was almost shouting at Dan Bradford. She came to a halt as their words became distinguishable.

“Stella, go to lunch. Jim and I have something important to discuss.”

“Sure, Mr. Bradford.” ‘There were a few moments of awkward silence. Storm sensed the tension within the office and hesitated, unsure whether or not to make her presence known.

“I want her out,” came Jim’s voice.

“You’d better have a good reason, Jim.”

“She can’t take the grind.”

“Oh? Stella was just showing me the mission’s report. I’d say you’re putting a lot of undue stress on the lady, wouldn’t you?”

“I happen to think she can’t take it. Dan, we’ve got eight more weeks of this kind of pressure.”

“Has she been late for any flights?” Dan cut in smoothly.

“No.”

“Any complaints from the people she’s flown to or from camps?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and Storm caught the edge of anger in Jim’s answer. “No, dammit. Look, Dan, I happen to pride myself on being able to judge people accurately. I’ve proven this to you before on several occasions when you thought we had the right pilot and I said no. And every time I was right.”

“Yes, that’s true. You were right.” There was a lengthening silence, and Storm clutched the box to her chest, her heart hammering in her ears. She pressed her lips tightly together.

“Jim,” Dan said softly, “I think your judgment is being influenced by something else. Storm reminds you of Heather.”

The silence between them became unbearable, and Storm froze, afraid to make a move. Who was Heather? Her mind whirled in confusion. Had Heather been another woman pilot who hadn’t been able to fulfill the demanding tasks set for her by Jim?

“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Jim finally replied in a low voice, taut with anger.

“Why not? She was my daughter.”

“She was my wife!”

Storm gasped in surprise. Jim’s wife! She hadn’t even known he’d been married. And where was Heather now?

“Storm is like Heather in many ways,” Dan continued. “In her talent for flying and in her special confidence.”

“That’s what got Heather killed!” Jim exploded violently.

‘Take it easy, Jim. We both know it was a freak snowstorm, not her flying ability, that was responsible.”

Storm heard someone pacing the length of the room, and she hugged the wall, trying to tame her anxiety. Jim had been married. To Dan Bradford’s daughter! Somehow, she just couldn’t assimilate that. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. No wonder Jim wanted her out of the company! And suddenly another, even more terrifying reality washed over her. He must care about her strongly to be reacting so heatedly to Dan Bradford’s accusations. She closed her eyes. Her temples began pounding as she considered the situation.

“Now, look,” Dan Bradford said soothingly. “I need Storm too much to let her go just because she’s causing you pain. Try to let go of the past, Jim. I know how much you loved Heather. We both loved her deeply. But a woman—and especially Storm—can handle this job the same as a man.”

Again silence fell between them, and finally Storm heard footsteps. A door opened.

“Is that your final decision, Dan?”

“Yes, it is. Storm stays.”

“You’re forgetting she has another two months of probation left with the company.”

“That’s right. And unless something drastic happens between now and then, I’m sure she’ll pass the test. Look, Jim, she’s a fine pilot. Why not give her half a chance to prove it? Search your conscience. Just because she reminds you of Heather is no reason to fire her.”

The door closed, and Storm waited. Then she heard Dan sigh heavily and trudge off toward his own office. She waited another five minutes before timidly emerging. Placing the cartridges on Stella’s desk, she slipped into her fur-lined parka, and picked up the flight plan, and walked out the door toward the control tower.

Storm dropped off a family of three at Camp Four at the base of the Talkeetna mountain range, where they planned to fish for brown trout. The boy, a pallid youngster of five, had looked unhappy, and as Storm went mechanically through the post-flight checklist, she also rechecked the family’s medical history. Louise Callings poked her head inside the cabin.

“Well, I think we have everything, Storm. You’ll be dropping off our supplies in three days?”

“Yes. Is your son, Bobby, all right? He looks a little peaked.”

Louise pushed a strand of black hair off her broad, attractive face. “He just got over the flu a few days ago, and I don’t think all this traveling has helped his recovery.” She bit her lip, then added, “I tried to talk Frank into waiting a few more days, but…” She brightened. “Well, you know fishermen. When the big ones are waiting for them, they just pray everything else will fall into place.”

Storm sensed her disquiet. “Why don’t you let me give you some aspirin for Bobby? Just in case he starts running a slight fever.”

Louise seemed relieved at the suggestion. “Yes, that would be wonderful, Storm.” She leaned forward, touching her arm. “Thanks. I’m so glad you’re a woman! Men just don’t understand our worries.”

Storm’s spirit was buoyed by Louise, but as she flew back to Anchorage, some of her anxiety over this morning’s conversation between Jim and Dan returned. Dan had said she could stay. Now all she had to do was continue to perform well and try to ignore Jim’s attitude. Her heart squeezed in anguish as she realized that would be impossible. As she taxied back to the flight line, her concern increased. The only time she could forget her problem was when she was up in the royal blue Alaskan skies.

The pit of her stomach churned as she saw Jim Talbot standing at the desk in the front office. Storm slowed her steps, hoping he would leave by the time she got there. Stella looked up and smiled broadly as Storm entered. Jim glanced over his shoulder, scowling.

“Well, is the Callings family all settled in for the duration?” Stella asked cheerfully.

Storm nodded, putting the paperwork in Stella’s hands, trying hard to ignore Jim’s presence.

“Yes,” she replied tentatively, taking another sheaf of papers and distractedly beginning to fill them out.

“You sound worried,” Jim commented. He turned toward her, his eyes pinning her in silent appraisal.

Storm opened her mouth and then closed it. She was behaving like an unsure teenager! She licked her lips and then said, “It’s their boy, Bobby. He’s still recovering from a case of the flu. My personal opinion is that they should have waited a while longer before bringing him out here.”

Even to her own ears she sounded defensive, peevish. Her anger at him was tingeing her tone of voice, despite her efforts to control it. He was so devastatingly handsome, so disturbing to her in every way. It hurt her to realize he didn’t want her around.

Storm abruptly turned away, took the papers she was working on over to a chair and sat down, filling them out. As she handed them back to Stella, Jim said directly behind her, “Take the rest of the day off, Storm. I’ll get Danziger to take your last flight. You look tired.”

Storm turned slowly, trying to assess his unreadable features. Her hands felt wet with perspiration, but she forced her voice to remain even. “No, thanks,” she answered coldly, “I’ll carry my part of the load.”

Jim studied her for a long moment, his mouth thinning with displeasure. The tension between them increased with intensity. Stella meekly excused herself and left the two of them alone.

“I’m not asking you to do it,” Jim finally said. “I’m telling you.”

Storm’s blue eyes narrowed with frustration. “Why? So you can mark down on my sheet that I was too tired to complete my rounds and use that as an excuse to get me fired? No, thanks, Talbot. I’ll handle all my assignments like a big girl.”

She started to walk past him, but he reached out, swinging her around to face him. “What’s gotten into you?” he growled, releasing her arm.

“You!” she said. “And your wanting to get rid of me.” She was actually trembling now. “And don’t deny it. I heard you and Dan arguing this morning.”

His gray eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, and Storm took a step back, feeling suddenly vulnerable in the face of his anger. She could not afford to feel that way. “You heard Dan and me talking?” he whispered tightly.

“Yes. Believe me, I wish I didn’t, but I did. I went to the supply room to get Stella some printer cartridge ribbons and when I came out you were arguing. About me.

Jim sighed softly. “You’re taking it the wrong way, Storm.”

She wanted to laugh, but was afraid it would come out as a strangled cry. Instead, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, boldly meeting his gaze. “How many ways can I take the fact that you want me out of this company?”

“You don’t understand, dammit!” he snarled, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.

Storm tried to wrench free, but his fingers burned into her tingling skin. “What’s there to understand? Now, let me go!”

Jim’s fingers tightened until finally she stood still. Then his hands relaxed, resting lightly on her. It was hard to remain coherent so close to him…. Storm could smell the male fragrance surrounding him, and it sent her senses spinning. She recalled with excruciating awareness the first time he had held her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to be crushed within his embrace. She wanted his strong mouth upon her lips. She moaned softly as clashing emotions flooded over her, leaving her defenseless within his grasp. On the one hand, she hated him, and on the other, she…

Storm inhaled sharply at the unfinished thought. Good heavens, was she falling in love with Jim Talbot? Her eyes widened as she considered the surprising possibility. He was looking down at her, his features contorted with what? Anguish? A thread of frustration spun through her. Why was he so devilishly hard to read?

“You don’t understand why I don’t want you working here,” he breathed savagely.

“Then you explain it to me!”

Jim swore softly and gave her a little shake. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Great! Am I some child who’s too naive or stupid to understand an adult reason?”

He shook his head, his voice softening. “No, Storm. If I did tell you, you might run away.”

This was getting ridiculous. She was furious. “Run away?” she cried. “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense at all.”

Jim managed a half smile and touched her cheek in a wistful gesture. “My untamed storm goddess, when the time’s right, I’ll try to explain everything.”

She wasn’t soothed by his explanation, even though the mere touch of his hand sent a shiver through her tense body.

“Put yourself in my place, Jim,” she demanded. “How would you feel if I wanted you fired? And if, in the next moment, I told you I was firing you for reasons that were best left unknown to you.” Without another word, Storm pulled away and walked quickly out the back door toward her car. She had to get away from him!