“You can’t leave. There’s nowhere to go.” Undaunted, his face bore a hint of subtle amusement as he continued his trek.
“Well”—she stopped, placing both hands on her hips—“you can just get that pilot back here to pick me up. I refuse to stay here.”
Having reached the steps to the cabin, Sloane placed the boxes on the front porch, fished into a pocket for the key to the large padlock which held the door shut, and shouldered it open. “After you …” His large hand gestured for her to precede him into the structure. When she refused to move, but stood, staring open-eyed at him, he shrugged, winked mischievously, and turned to lift the boxes before entering.
Fury surged through her. Trembling, she turned and stormed back to the dock, sitting down hard upon its weathered planks, waiting for the plane that would not be coming to her rescue. There was movement beside her as Sloane made another trip with supplies, yet she did not turn to watch, ignoring both his strength and his command.
The Silver Fox. Now for the first time, she knew the full meaning of the distinction. Silver he was, with that vital crop of thick silver hair. And sharp he was in the business acumen she had witnessed repeatedly over the past weeks. Now she knew that cunning with regards to her—and she bristled. She had fallen into his trap, had been lulled into a false sense of security by the thorough propriety he had shown toward her during the trip. He had crept up stealthily, taking her by surprise. Now she was his unwitting prey.
Anger seemed her only proof against the awesome sensuality he oozed. Anger would have to guide her through this final ordeal. Scowling at the innocent water, its mirrored surface broken every now and then by the play of the Canadian geese, their raucous calls rallying their forces, she felt that anger begin to dissolve even against her will. Daring to look more closely about her, the sight was as serene and welcoming as any she had seen during the expedition. If this was Alaska, she found herself drawn to it.
“Ready to come in?”
His soft invitation startled her from her self-indulgent musings. He knelt close beside her, his eyes less humorous but warmer, threatening to melt her resistance at once.
“No. No,” she stammered. “I’ll sit out here for a while.”
“I won’t gobble you up, if that’s what has you worried. I didn’t bring you here to impose on you something you don’t want.”
Gobble you up.John Doucette’s faraway words echoed in her mind. “Then, whydidyou bring me here? Honestly.”
He shifted to sit more comfortably beside her. “Honestly?” His dark eyes held her brighter green ones, mesmerizing her as they seemed too often to do. “Honestly? I brought you here for the reasons I just mentioned. Plus two others.”
She waited, counting on him for the truth. When it came, she wished he had been less truthful.
“I felt that, if you were to understand the lure of Alaska, you should see this. It may help frame some of those very valid proposals you’ve made along the way.” The compliment was beyond her.
“That’s the first. And the second?”
“The second,” he continued, low and calmly, “is that I wanted to be with you. Alone. It’s been difficult spending so much time with you, over the past few weeks, with others constantly around. We had something very good going at one point there. Have you forgotten so quickly?” The hardening of his jaw gave credit to his onetime declarations of love. Would they be repeated?
“No.” Her voice was very soft. “I haven’t forgotten.” Looking down, her eyes grazed her stomach, still flat, yet carrying the evidence of that “something very good.”
“Then come back to the cabin with me. I won’t pressure you … for anything. Let’s just relax. We owe ourselves that much. It’s been a very rough and busy time for us both.”
For the first time she saw the lines of fatigue etched in the grooves by his lips, the faint furrows on his brow. Suddenly, it all came back as though there had never been a marriage proposal, a heart-wrenching refusal, an imposed break from the daily routine of her bustling practice in Manhattan, a long three weeks of constant work, the seed of their union growing inside her about which he must never know. Suddenly, there were only the two of them and the frightening bond which held them together.
What he read in her eyes she would never know. But when he stood, then reached down to help her to her feet, she acquiesced. She was simply without the strength to resist. Arms laden with her pocketbook and overnight bag, she silently walked beside him to the cabin.
Chapter 8
Three open wooden steps led to the porch of the cabin. It was on the second that Justine tripped.
“Aaaahhh!” she cried out as she stumbled forward, ramming her elbow in the process. Though protected by the padding of her thick down parka, she nonetheless felt the impact. Her small overnight bag thudded to the ground, her pocketbook sailed forward, its contents spilling over the porch. “Damn!” she swore beneath her breath.
“Uh-uh. Not ladylike,” Sloane chided softly, reaching for her. “Are you hurt?”
Lips drawn taut in frustration, she pulled away, gingerly kneading her elbow as she looked up to scold him. “It’s just my funny bone … and I’m sure this is only the first of the accidents I’m bound to have in this primitive place.” But her annoyance was fast fading. Slowly a sheepish grin stole over her features. “See what you’re in for?”
“I can take it.” He smirked, putting down his own things to help her gather hers. “I’ll just have to keep a closer eye on you.”
Just what she needed, she mused in silent sarcasm, stuffing personal belongings back into her purse. “It’s a miracle this hasn’t happened before. But then, when there are others around I do just fine. It must be the bad influenceyouhave on me,” she quipped puckishly.
“Could be.” His comment was a distracted one, his attention caught on something else. “What’s this?” Reaching down, he retrieved the plastic bottle containing her vitamins, those her doctor had prescribed and which she had taken, faithfully, every day.
“Vitamins,” she barked with undue haste, grabbing the bottle from his hand and stuffing it into her bag and out of sight.
“Do you always take them?”
