Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Vietnam War; 1961-1975, #Northwest Territories, #Survival After Airplane Accidents; Shipwrecks; Etc, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Wilderness Survival, #Businesswomen
Rusty
laid a restraining hand on Cooper's arm. "The older one, Quinn, attacked me." In plain language, she told them what Gawrylow had done to her that morning in the cabin. "My leg was still seriously injured. I was virtually helpless. Cooper returned just in time to prevent a rape. Gawrylow reached for
a
gun. If Cooper hadn't acted when and how he did, he would have been killed ins
t
ead of Gawrylow. And I would s
t
ill be a
t
the old man's mercy."
She exchanged a long stare of understanding with Cooper. She had never deliberately inflamed the hermits. He had known
t
hat
all along. He silen
t
ly asked her to forgive him his insults and she silently asked him to forgive her forever being afraid of him.
Cooper's hand splayed wide over the top of her head and moved it to his chest. His arms wrapped around her. Ignoring everybody else in the room, they held each other tight, rocking slightly back and forth.
Half an hour later, Cooper was relieved of all legal responsibility for the deaths of
t
he Gawrylows. Facing them now was their meeting with the victims' families. The weeping, somber group was led into the office. For nearly an hour Rusty and Cooper spoke with them and provided what information they could. The bereaved derived some comfort from the fact tha
t
their loved ones had died immediately and without having suffered. They tearfully thanked the survivors for sharing their knowledge about the crash. It was a moving experience for everyone involved.
The meeting with
t
he media was something altogether different. When Rust)' and Cooper were escorted into the large room chat had been set up for the press conference, they were greeted by a restless crowd. A pall of tobacco smoke obscured
t
he ceiling.
Sea
t
ed behind a table with microphones, they answered the barrage of questions as thoroughly, but as concisely, as possible. Some of the questions were silly, some were intelligent, and some were painfully personal. When one gauche reporter asked what it was like to share a cabin with a total stranger. Cooper turned co one of the officials and said, "That's it. Get Rust
y
out of here."
The bureaucrat didn't move fast enough to suit him. Taking it upon himself to remove
Rusty
from the carnival atmosphere, he slipped his arm benea
t
h hers and assisted her out of her chair. As
t
hey made
t
heir way coward the exit, a man came rushing up and shoved a business card into Cooper's face. It identified him as a reporter for a newsmagazine. He offered
t
hem an enormous sum of money for exclusive rights to their story.
"But if that's not enough," he stammered hastily when Cooper glared at him with icy malevolence, "we'll up the ante. I don't suppose you took any pictures, did you?"
Emitting a feral growl,
Coo
per pushed the reporter aside and told him what he could do with his magazine, using descriptive words that couldn't be misunderstood.
By the time they were boarded onto the L.A.-bound jet. Rusty was so exhausted she could barely walk. Her right leg was aching. Cooper had to practically carry her aboard. He buckled her into her firs
t
-class seat next to the window and took the aisle seat beside her. He asked the flight attendant to bring a snifter of brandy immediately.
"Aren't you having any?" Rusty asked after taking a few fiery and restorative sips.
He shook his head. "I've sworn off the booze for a while." The corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smile.
"You're very handsome, Mr. Landry," she remarked softly, gazing up at him as though seeing him for the firs
t
time.
He removed the snifter from her listless fingers. "That's the brandy talking."
"No, you are." She raised her hand and touched his hair. Ir slid through her fingers silkily.
"I'm glad you think so."
"Dinner, Ms. Carlson, Mr. Landry?"
The)' were surprised to realize that the airplane was already airborne. They'd been so preoccupied with each other that they hadn't even noticed the takeoff. Which was just as well. The helicopter ride hadn't been so bad for her because she hadn't had time to anticipate it. But as the day stretched out, the thought of flying to Los Angeles had filled Rusty with apprehension. It would be a while, if ever, before she was a completely comfortable flyer.
"Dinner,
Rusty
?" Cooper asked. She shook her head. To the flight attendant he said, "No, thanks. They fed us several times today."
"Buzz me if you need anything," she said graciously before moving down the aisle. They were
t
he only passengers in the first-class cabin. When the flight attendant re
t
urned to
t
h
e
galley, they were left alone for the firs
t
time since being rescued.
"You know, it's funny," Rusty said musingly, "we were together so much that I thought I'd welcome the time when we could be apart.
1
thought I missed being with other people—" she fingered
t
he pocket of his shirt "—but I hated the crowds today. AH that pushing and shoving. And every time I los
t
sight of you, I panicked."
"Natural," he whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been dependent on me for so long, you're in die habit. That'll go away."
She angled her head back, "Will it, Cooper?"
"Won't i
t
?"
"I'm not sure I want it to."
He said her name softly before his lips settled against hers. He kissed her ardently, as though this might be his last chance. There was a desperation behind his kiss. I
t
persis
t
ed when Rusty looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder.
"You saved my life. Have I thanked you? Have I
t
old you tha
t
I wo
ul
d have died wi
t
hout you?"
Cooper was frantically kissing her neck, her ears, her hair. "You don't need to thank me. I wanted to protect you, to take care of you."
"You did. Well. Very well." They kissed again until they were forced to break apart breathlessly. "Touch me."
He watched her lips whisper the words. They were still glistening from their kiss. "Touch you? Here? Now?"
She nodded rapidly. "Please, Cooper. I'm frightened. I need to know you're here— reall
y
and tru
ly
here.''
He opened the coat that the Canadian government had supplied and slipped his hand inside. He covered her breast.
It
felt womanly and warm and full beneath her sweater.
He laid his cheek against hers and whispered, "Your nipple is already hard." Hmm.
His fingers played with the tight little bead through the knit. "You don't seem surprised."
I’
m
not.
"Are they always like this? Where were you when
I
was fourteen?" She laughed softly. "No, they're nor alwa
y
s like this, I was thinking about last night."
"Last night lasted a lifetime. Be specific." "Remember when..." She whispered a sultry reminder. "Lord, yes," he groaned, "but don't talk about tha
t
now." "Why?"
"If you do, you'll have to sit on my lap." She touched him. "To cover this?"
"No,
Rusty
," he said through gritted teeth. And when he told her what they would be doing if she sat on his lap, she chastely removed her hand.
"I don't think that would be proper at all. For that matter, neither is what you're doing. Maybe you'd better stop." He withdrew his hand from her sweater. By now both her breasts were showing up hard and poin
t
ed beneath i
t
. They gazed at each other, their eyes reflecting a sense of loss. "I wish we hadn't been so stubborn. I wish we'd made love before last night."
He sighed deeply. "I've thought about that, too."
A sob rose in her throat. "Hold me, Cooper." He clasped her tightly and burrowed his face in her hair, "Don'
t
le
t
me go."
"I won't. Not now."
"Not ever. Promise."
Sleep claimed her before she go
t
his promise. It also spared her from seeing the bleak expression on his face.
It seemed that the entire population of the city was waiting for their arrival at LAX. They had landed only briefly in Seattle and hadn't had to deplane. None of the boarding passengers had joined them in first class. That takeoff had been uneventful.
Now, anticipating a mob scene, the senior flight attendant advised them to let all the other passengers disembark first. Rust\ welcomed the delay. She was terribly nervous. Her palms were wet with perspiration. Jitters like this were foreign to her. A
t
ease on ever
y
social occasion, she couldn't imagine why she was sick with anxiety now. She didn't want to release her grip on Cooper's arm, although she kept flashing insincere, confident smiles up at him. If
only she could slip back into her regular life without a lot of fuss.
But it wasn't going to be that easy. The moment she stepped through the opening of the jet way and entered the terminal, her worst expectations were realized. She was mom
e
n
t
arily blinded by television lights. Microphones were poked into her face. Someone inadvertently bumped her sore shin with a camera bag. The noise was deafening. But out of that cacophony, a familiar voice beckoned her. She turned toward it.
"Father?"
Within seconds she was smothered in his embrace. Her arm was jostled away from Cooper's. Even as she returne
d her father's hug, she groped f
or Cooper's hand, but she couldn't find it. The separation left her panicked.
"Le
t
me review
t
he damage," Bill Carlson said, pushing his daugh
t
er away and holding her at arm's length. The reporters widened the circle around them, but cameras snapped pictures of this moving reunion. "Not too bad, under the circumstances." He whipped
t
he coat from around her shoulders. "As grateful as I am to
t
he charitable Canadian government for taking such good care of you today, I think you'll feel much hearer in this."
One of his lackeys materialized and produced a huge box, from which Carlson shook out a lull-length red fox coat exactly like the one she'd been wearing when the plane crashed. "I heard about your coat, darling," he said as he proudly draped the fur around her shoulders, "so I wanted to replace it."
Oohs and aahs rose out of
t
he crowd. Reporters pressed closer
t
o rake pictures. The coat was gorgeous but far too heavy for the balmy southern California evening. It felt like chain mail weighting her down. But Rusty was oblivious to it, to everything, as her eyes frantically probed the circle of light surrounding her
in
search of Cooper. "Father, I want you to meet—"
"Don't worry about your leg. It will be seen to by expert doctors. I've arranged a room for you at the hospital.
We’re
going there immediately."
"But Cooper—"
"Oh, yes. Cooper Landry, isn't it? The man who also survived the crash. I'm grateful to him, of course. He saved your life. I
’ll
never forget that." Carlson spoke in a booming voice that was guaranteed to be overhead by the newspaper reporters a
nd
picked up by microphones.
Diplomatically his assistant wielded the long coat-box to clea
r
a path for them through the throng of media people, "ladies
and
gentlemen, you'll be notified if anything else comes out about the story," Carlson told them as he ushered Rusty toward a gol
f
cart that was waiting to transport them through the terminal.
Rusty looked everywhere, but she didn't see Cooper. Finally she spotted his broad-shouldered form walking away from th
e
scene. A couple of reporters were in hot pursuit. "Cooper!" The cart lurched forward and she grabbed the seat beneath
her
for balance. "Cooper!" she called again. He couldn't hear
h
er
above the din.