the plane. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Christian asked, and his gaze settled on her. All at once the atmosphere was charged with excitement. Never had Mariah been so physically aware of him, and he seemed to be experiencing the same reaction to her.
“You’re right. The flight wasn’t bad at all,” she said, realizing how breathless she sounded. “Thank you,” she murmured.
She meant to open the door and climb out, but Mariah found that her body refused to function. Suddenly Christian leaned close, so close the distance between their mouths became too slight to measure.
She wasn’t sure what to think, what to do. She stopped breathing and was convinced Christian did, too. Gradually he eased forward until his mouth grazed hers. His touch was tender. Light. And all too brief.
The effect was, somehow, more devastating than if they’d engaged in a lengthy, passionate kiss.
Christian reared back as if she’d slapped him.
Mariah savored the exquisite sensation of that kiss. This was what she’d wanted from the first, what she’d been longing for.
Christian opened the door just then, and a rush of air instantly cooled the interior of the plane.
Mariah didn’t wait for him to come around and help her down. She did notice that he couldn’t seem to get her luggage out of the plane fast enough.
Once they were inside the truck and headed for the terminal, Christian cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to attach any...importance to what happened back there,” he said brusquely.
“I...won’t.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. It...well, it just happened.”
Regret. He had to go and ruin the most perfect moment of her life with regret.
* * *
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Christian didn’t know what in the world had possessed him to kiss Mariah. Four days later, and he couldn’t keep from dwelling on their last moments alone in the plane.
Although he’d analyzed the kiss over and over, he couldn’t make sense of it. Not once in the entire year Mariah had been employed by Midnight Sons had the thought of kissing her even entered his mind.
Yet in those awkward moments after they’d landed and taxied off the Fairbanks runway, Christian could think of nothing else. The temptation had become too much for him.
Nothing like complicating his life—and he had no one to blame but himself. True, he’d made an effort to put it behind them, but only a blind man would’ve missed the stars in Mariah’s eyes.
That was the trouble with women. You kissed them a time or two, and they seemed to think it meant something. Well, he wanted to make one thing clear right now. He was not—repeat, not—interested in Mariah Douglas. He didn’t even like the woman. If he could find a legal means of getting her completely out of his life, he’d leap at the opportunity.
“You aren’t looking too happy,” Sawyer announced as he walked past Christian’s desk to his own.
“I’m fine!” he snapped. The last thing he wanted was for Sawyer to learn about that stupid kiss.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed Mariah.”
Christian snickered loudly. “Have you noticed how well everything’s gone this week?” he asked. He hoped to convince Sawyer that the office had run like clockwork without her. Maybe, just maybe, Sawyer would see reason and agree to do away with the position.
“It’s been hectic,” Sawyer argued.
“Well, we’ve been busier than usual,” Christian conceded. “But have you stopped to notice how peaceful it is around here? And how we’ve had no major problems?”
Sawyer nodded.
Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as Christian had assumed. “We don’t need Mariah.”
His brother sent him a disgusted look. “Don’t need Mariah? Sure, we’ve managed without her, but I have to tell you, this place has been hopping. We’re getting more business all the time. If everything’s running smoothly, then it’s because Mariah oiled the gears before she left. I don’t know about you, little brother, but I’m counting the hours until she returns.”
Christian cursed under his breath. He was counting the hours himself, but not for the same reason.
“Don’t need Mariah?” Sawyer repeated in the same tone of disbelief he’d used a minute earlier. “Tell that to Abbey and the kids. I’ve been late for dinner every night this week. I don’t like working this hard. I’ve got a wife and family I’d like to see once in a while.”
The phone pealed, and Sawyer glared at Christian, who was concentrating on tallying a row of figures. “Since you’ve got so much free time on your hands, you can answer that.”
Christian scowled and reached for the telephone.
* * *
“Duke’s got a girlfriend?” Tracy Santiago asked Mariah as they sat outside the Kenai Lodge and enjoyed the sunshine. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Tracy didn’t bother to disguise her shock. “What woman would put up with that chauvinistic character for more than five minutes?”
“I don’t know. I’m just repeating what Christian told me. It’s funny, though,” she said, thinking out loud. “Duke’s never mentioned anyone.”
Tracy raised her face to the sun and grumbled something Mariah couldn’t make out.
“Duke’s not so bad.”
Tracy straightened and sipped her margarita. “The man’s a public nuisance. Let’s change the subject, okay? He has a bad effect on my blood pressure.”
Mariah lay back in the lawn chair. They’d spent four full days sightseeing. Every minute of every day had been full, and Mariah was exhausted; so was Tracy.
Now was the time to relax. Mariah didn’t want to think about Hard Luck—and particularly not about Christian. This was her vacation, and she was determined to make the most of it.
“Mmm, this is the life,” Tracy said, closing her eyes and smiling into the sun. “A woman could get used to this.”
Mariah smiled, too. Although most of their communication had been by phone and mail, she knew her friend all too well. Tracy would soon grow bored lazing around a swimming pool; before a week was past, she wouldn’t be able to stand the inactivity. She’d be eager to get back to her job.
“You surprise me,” Tracy said out of the blue.
“I do?” Mariah asked. “How?”
Tracy grinned sheepishly. “Well, when your parents first contacted me, they described you as this delicate hothouse flower who didn’t have a clue what she was letting herself in for.”
“That’s how they see me.” It saddened Mariah to admit that. Her family’s attitude was the very reason she’d left Seattle. They considered her helpless and inept, and if she’d stayed much longer she might have come to believe it herself.
“You really love it in Hard Luck, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. This has been the most...” Mariah hesitated, unsure how to explain what her year in the Arctic community had been like. She felt proud of her own ability to survive in difficult surroundings, especially during the winter when the temperature dropped to forty below. True, there were times she’d been lonely and confused. Depressed. At other times she’d felt a new confidence, a newly developed sense of self that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. After a year in the Arctic, she knew she was capable of handling any situation. She’d learned to trust her own judgment and to take pride in her achievements.
But her nonrelationship with Christian continued to baffle her, although