hands along the tensed muscles of his arms, his chest and abdomen. Over his straining shoulders and down the slopes and planes of his back to his clenched butt.
He trailed kisses down her jaw to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. âSerena.â And then he started to move.
Slowly at first, as if savoring the feeling, he pulled out and then slid back in. With each thrust his pace in creased, his mouth still pressing kisses to her shoulderand lower. He cupped a breast and brought the tip to his mouth.
The myriad of sensations carried her to an inner zone of heightened awareness. Of the friction of his cock moving inside her, of his lips suckling on her nipple. Of his hand caressing her waist, her hip, behind her knee. Yet at the same time, blinding, primal emotions burst to the surface of her consciousness. Her body spasmed, her hips lifted to meet him, or to stop him, she wasnât sure. She couldâve sworn she saw lights dance in her vision, blurred by tears.
He cried out and pushed hard into her one last time, and then stilled.
Her body had turned so weak she couldnât even raise an arm to push off his heavy weight. She was breathing hard and her damp skin was cooling in the freezing temperature. He must have noticed her trying to draw a deep breath because he slid off to her side, tucked her against him and pulled their coats and the tarp over them.
Mmm, now she was snuggly warm. Max started snoring lightly behind her, his arm heavy on her waist. After the early morning spy mission, the harrowing plane landing, and the tense emotions sheâd experienced all day, she should have sunk into unconsciousness. But her body hummed with energy, and her mind raced withâ¦with what? Excitement? Happiness? She hadnât felt that way about her jobâor her life, for that matterâin years.
But her mind also raced with plans for getting toBarrow tomorrow, somehow. And with following this intriguing man to his hometown and seeing what she could discover about him and his life. Sheâd charter a plane if she had to.
She shouldnât feel this way. It made no sense. But she wasnât done with Max Taggert, the White Wolf. Not nearly.
5
T HE SUN WAS STREAMING into the plane when Max awoke snuggled against a warm, soft body. And he was mostly naked.
Aw, hell.
He was stiff, and when he tried to slide his numb arm out from under Serenaâs head, she jerked awake and sat up.
âOoh,â she moaned, and grabbed her head, then cast a horrified stare his way.
The feeling was mutual.
He checked his watch. After eight already.
As he slipped on his jeans and shirt, Ms. Sandstone disappeared under the tarp and pulled her clothes underneath with her.
Grabbing his parka, he took Mickey outside to take care of business. They needed to get going. But could he risk flying to Nome with Serena in his plane? He couldnât be responsible for one more personâs death.
He could still radio for a rescue plane. But how wouldhe explain that to Serena? Sheâd suspect something fishy. And if he told her the truth, sheâd snicker at his beliefs and tell him there was no such thing as a curse. That his soul had not gone wandering. And that the deaths in his life were just awful coincidences.
Damn Jameson whiskey. Damn her. And damn superstitions.
When he returned to the plane, he radioed his flight plan to Nome and fed Mickey while Serena went outside without a word. Within half an hour they were in the air. The strut held on takeoff, and they made it to Nome safe and sound. In total silence.
Wiping his temple on his sleeve, he released a long breath of relief as he left Serena in the hands of an airport ticket agent. By noon, heâd refueled his Cessna and was headed for Barrow without looking back.
The fact that he had to force himself not to was irrelevant. As was the fact that he couldnât seem to stop thinking about her as he loaded the cargo into his truck and
He trailed kisses down her jaw to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. âSerena.â And then he started to move.
Slowly at first, as if savoring the feeling, he pulled out and then slid back in. With each thrust his pace in creased, his mouth still pressing kisses to her shoulderand lower. He cupped a breast and brought the tip to his mouth.
The myriad of sensations carried her to an inner zone of heightened awareness. Of the friction of his cock moving inside her, of his lips suckling on her nipple. Of his hand caressing her waist, her hip, behind her knee. Yet at the same time, blinding, primal emotions burst to the surface of her consciousness. Her body spasmed, her hips lifted to meet him, or to stop him, she wasnât sure. She couldâve sworn she saw lights dance in her vision, blurred by tears.
He cried out and pushed hard into her one last time, and then stilled.
Her body had turned so weak she couldnât even raise an arm to push off his heavy weight. She was breathing hard and her damp skin was cooling in the freezing temperature. He must have noticed her trying to draw a deep breath because he slid off to her side, tucked her against him and pulled their coats and the tarp over them.
Mmm, now she was snuggly warm. Max started snoring lightly behind her, his arm heavy on her waist. After the early morning spy mission, the harrowing plane landing, and the tense emotions sheâd experienced all day, she should have sunk into unconsciousness. But her body hummed with energy, and her mind raced withâ¦with what? Excitement? Happiness? She hadnât felt that way about her jobâor her life, for that matterâin years.
But her mind also raced with plans for getting toBarrow tomorrow, somehow. And with following this intriguing man to his hometown and seeing what she could discover about him and his life. Sheâd charter a plane if she had to.
She shouldnât feel this way. It made no sense. But she wasnât done with Max Taggert, the White Wolf. Not nearly.
5
T HE SUN WAS STREAMING into the plane when Max awoke snuggled against a warm, soft body. And he was mostly naked.
Aw, hell.
He was stiff, and when he tried to slide his numb arm out from under Serenaâs head, she jerked awake and sat up.
âOoh,â she moaned, and grabbed her head, then cast a horrified stare his way.
The feeling was mutual.
He checked his watch. After eight already.
As he slipped on his jeans and shirt, Ms. Sandstone disappeared under the tarp and pulled her clothes underneath with her.
Grabbing his parka, he took Mickey outside to take care of business. They needed to get going. But could he risk flying to Nome with Serena in his plane? He couldnât be responsible for one more personâs death.
He could still radio for a rescue plane. But how wouldhe explain that to Serena? Sheâd suspect something fishy. And if he told her the truth, sheâd snicker at his beliefs and tell him there was no such thing as a curse. That his soul had not gone wandering. And that the deaths in his life were just awful coincidences.
Damn Jameson whiskey. Damn her. And damn superstitions.
When he returned to the plane, he radioed his flight plan to Nome and fed Mickey while Serena went outside without a word. Within half an hour they were in the air. The strut held on takeoff, and they made it to Nome safe and sound. In total silence.
Wiping his temple on his sleeve, he released a long breath of relief as he left Serena in the hands of an airport ticket agent. By noon, heâd refueled his Cessna and was headed for Barrow without looking back.
The fact that he had to force himself not to was irrelevant. As was the fact that he couldnât seem to stop thinking about her as he loaded the cargo into his truck and
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