Any Thursday (Donovans of the Delta) (12 page)

“And the harsh winters?”

“I spend in the institute, compiling my data and writing papers, or traveling, giving lectures.”

“And running the Yukon Quest?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a grueling race. Why do you do it, Hannah?”

“I enjoy the challenge—and the sense of control. There’s something extremely satisfying about knowing that I can pit myself and my dog team against nature and come out a winner.”

Jim left his chair beside the fireplace and went into the small cooking alcove. “To show my appreciation for a great day, I’m preparing dinner.”

“It was a good day, wasn’t it, Jim?”

“Yes, it was a very good day.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the institute.”

He smiled at her as if she’d promised to take him to paradise.

 o0o

Hannah was a-tingle with excitement when she woke up. For a moment she wondered why an ordinary day should make her feel that way. Then she remembered that this was no ordinary day. Jim Roman was downstairs. She could hear him stirring already. As she started down the stairs, she squelched her excitement and reminded herself that he was a risk she didn’t dare take.

“Are you decent down there?” she called.

“I try never to be decent, but I am dressed.”

Jim was wearing jeans, sweatshirt, sweater, and sneakers.

“Don’t you have some hiking shoes?”

“I don’t need hiking shoes on the streets of San Francisco.”

“This is not the streets of San Francisco.”

His gaze swept her from head to toe. “How well I know,” he said softly.

The cabin was suddenly too small and too hot for Hannah. And much too dangerous. She grabbed her gun and headed for the door. “Let’s go. We can have doughnuts and coffee at the institute.”

Jim caught up with her on the front path. “Wait a minute, wildcat,” he said as he took her elbow. “Do you want to get a city boy lost?”

With the sun backlighting him, Jim looked as if he’d stepped straight out of her dreams. But the hand on her arm was all too real. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe I do,” she said. “Maybe it would be best for both of us.”

“Hannah.”

He leaned forward as if he meant to kiss her. Morning seemed to shine in his face. It was more temptation than she could bear. She jerked her head back and saw his jaw tighten.

“Why do you always carry that gun?” he asked.

“To protect myself against predators.”

He rammed his hands into his pockets. “You’re safe with me, Dr. Donovan. The only thing I want form you is a story.”

“That’s great, because that’s all you’re going to get.”

She whirled away from him and started rapidly up the path. Jim ran after her. His thoughts were as black as the temper she always seemed to raise in him. Damned independent woman. The least little threat of a kiss and she had her back up like an alley cat. He could keep his hands off her for two more days. There were other women, and there were certainly more pliant women.

He stopped for breath. Hannah was six yards ahead of him, climbing a cliff as if it were a staircase in the Ritz. She was so vibrant, she made the air around her pulse with excitement. The next two days loomed before him like the gates of hell.

She looked back over her shoulder. “If the climb is too much for you, you can go back to the cabin. I’ll give you a report at the end of the day.”

“Nothing is too much for me. Lead on.”

Gritting his teeth, he followed her. His feet hurt, his side ached, and his stomach was growling from hunger. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing his condition. If her game was to make him turn tail and run, she wouldn’t succeed.

After what seemed like hours to Jim, the institute finally came into sight. It was nothing more than a primitive log hut hanging on the edge of the cliff they had climbed. A simple wooden sign over the doorway proclaimed its function.

When Hannah turned toward him, she was beaming. He’d noticed that her work always brought that look to her face—and
only
her work. He felt a strange sense of defeat.

“This is it,” she was saying. “This is where much of the real work takes place.”

She escorted him into a room as compact and as highly organized as his boat. Not an inch of space was wasted. File cabinets lined the north wall, two functional desks and a set of bookshelves took up the south wall, and the space in between was given to telescopes and equipment Jim could only begin to guess at. Dr. Sol Thunderburk, the cetologist, was not at the institute during the summer months, Hannah had told him, so the two of them were alone. Jim was achingly aware of that fact.

“Look.” He turned in the direction Hannah was pointing. The bay was spread out beyond the wide bank of west windows as big as eternity and so blue, it made his eyes hurt to look at it. The water looked clearer, cleaner, brighter than it did in San Francisco.

“It’s spectacular, Hannah.”
But no less spectacular than you
, he thought. Both the woman and the ocean were wild and primitive. And equally as hard to tame. What was worse, he didn’t even know why he wanted to.

He gazed at her with naked longing.

Turning form the view, Hannah caught the look in his eyes.
Don’t look at me like that
, she wanted to scream. Her hand tightened on her gun, and she made herself walk calmly to the coffeemaker. Survival was all-important to her. He’d be gone in a few days, and her life would once again get back to normal.

“Coffee will be ready in a minute or two.” She stowed her gun, picked up the can, and started to measure out coffee. “Damn.”

“Did you say something?”

“I spilled coffee.”

“I’ll help you.” He was across the room before she could protest. All her breath seemed to leave her as his hands closed over hers. “Steady hands help. Are we making six or eight cups?” His eyebrow quirked upward in question.

“Eight. It’s going to be a long day.” She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them fast.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Why should you?”

“Because you want the same thing I do.”

“I’ve learned to ignore my baser instincts. Perhaps you should too.”

He threw back his head and roared with laughter. She didn’t think what she’d said was so funny, but at least it served to free her hands. She hurried away from Jim while she could. Lord deliver her from that warrior, she thought. And from her primitive instincts, she added as she swung her gaze back toward him. Never had she met a man who so completely enthralled her. He was ruthless and wicked and unscrupulous and brilliant and witty and funny and enchanting. Not to mention dangerous.

She drew herself up and gave him her haughtiest look, the one Jacob called her Hurricane Hannah look. “Are you here to work, or what?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“In that case, Dr. Donovan, lead me to the sweatshop.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Again they were pleasantly surprised that they worked so well together. In spite of the rocky beginning, the day went smoothly once they got their sexual frustration out of their minds. It was almost seven before they left the institute.

“This is crazy,” Jim remarked as they stepped out into the light. “How can you stand not knowing night from day?”

“It’s one of those things I’ve gotten accustomed to.”

“Like doing without sex?”

“Not that again.”

“It will always be that with us.”

Instead of replying, Hannah lengthened her stride so that she could get ahead of him. Putting a few feet between them helped, but not much.

The first drop of rain took her by surprise. She’d been so busy sparring with Jim, she had broken one of the cardinal rules of a native Alaskan: Always pay attention to the sky. It was dark and heavy with storm clouds.

The summer storm suddenly let loose with all its fury, drenching her within seconds. Thunder ricocheted off the cliffs.

“Jim!” She whirled quickly, calling his name. The rain was coming down in opaque sheets by now. She barely could see her hand in front of her face, much less Jim. Panic seized her. What if he lost his footing on the unfamiliar path? What if he fell and broke his legs—or worse? “Jim!”

“I’m here.” She felt herself being enfolded by his arms. “Don’t panic. I’m right here.”

She peered up through the driving rain, trying to see his face. All she could make out were his white teeth. He was smiling.

“I didn’t panic. I never panic. I just didn’t want you to fall off the cliff.”

“I didn’t know you cared, love,” he said lightly.

She cared, she thought. In spite of all reason, she cared, but she never would let him know. Pulling back slightly, she said, “Let’s get out of this storm. Follow me.”

She led him toward a small cave that was tucked into the jagged side of the cliff. “Duck,” she ordered, “and hope we aren’t trespassing on a wild creature.”

“There can be worse fates, Hannah.”

The tension in his voice made her jerk around to look at him. In the dimness of the cave he was gazing at her with unmistakable desire. She was trapped. With the storm rampaging outside, she had nowhere to go. He continued watching her in that predatory way, and she felt her own passion rising. Always it was like this between them, she thought. One look, one touch, and they were engulfed in a magnificent passion.

She inched away, scooting along the damp cave floor so that his thigh was no longer brushing against hers.

“And what are those fates?” she asked.

“Don’t you know?”

His gaze fell hungrily upon her. She was no longer sure whether the furious pounding she heard was the storm outside or the raging of her own blood in her ears.

“There could be grizzly bears in here with us instead of mountain lions. That would be considerably worse.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Or wolverines. They are quite vicious.” Hannah never rattled on and on the way she was now. She was furious at herself—and at Jim. “Would you please stop?”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“Spell it out for me, Doctor.”

“You’re looking at me as if I’m a banquet and you haven’t eaten in a year.”

“Is that a scientific observation, Doctor?”

“Yes.”

In one swift move he closed the small space between them. Nothing touched except their thighs. But for all the effect that had on Hannah, he might as well have ripped away her clothes.

“You are so right. Thunderstorms bring out the beast in me.” Reaching out, he ran his hand gently up the back of her neck, capturing a handful of hair and watching it filter slowly through his fingers. The sensation of her silky hair against his skin never failed to arouse him. “The hungry beast.”

Ever so slowly he circled his arms around her and lowered her to the cave floor. Her eyes were luminous in the darkness.

Dipping his head toward hers, he murmured, “I could drown in you—and I think I will.”

“Jim.” She made the token protest, even as her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer.

“I’ve fought it for two days, Hannah.”

“It’s just the storm. Alaskan storms warp the” —she caught her breath as his lips brushed across her throat— “perspective,” she managed to say as his bold tongue plunged into the V neck of her blouse and licked the hollow between her breasts.

He worked one button loose, then another. His breathing became labored as he impatiently nudged aside the restraining bit of lace. The raging storm moved inside the cave as he pressed his hot mouth against her skin.

Need spiraled through her, and she fought to hang on to her control. Even as she arched toward him, she told herself that she could stop this madness at any time.

“I’ve been wanting to taste you like this since I first saw you,” he said. “You’re even better than I imagined.”

Just a while longer, she thought.

“Hannah!” He stretched on top of her and captured her lips. Their kissing was as frenzied as the storm.

Mouths and legs locked, they rolled over the cave floor.

“You are temptation . . .” she panted, “almost too great to resist.”

“Don’t . . . resist.”

“I must.”

Every muscle in his body was rigid with need. Every inch of her flesh yielded to him. Their wet clothes became an enhancement rather than a barrier. The friction of denim against denim served only to fan the flames that burned them.

“Don’t fight it, Hannah.” He reached for the waistband of her jeans. “Let it happen.”

“No.” She put her hand on his to stop him. “Never.”

She was no longer battling for control: She was battling for sanity. With his mouth on hers and his body so close, so enticing, she had long ago fallen over the edge of control.

Why not, she asked herself. Why not give in to her needs? It would be a one-night stand. Then he’d leave. What would be the harm?

“Hannah . . . you’re . . . my obsession.”

And you are mine,
she thought. There was the harm. There was the danger. Once would never be enough for them, for either of them.

She struggled slowly up from her passion-drugged state. Easing her lips out of his reach, she whispered, “The storm’s over.”

Jim’s eyes were almost black as he lifted himself on his elbows and looked down at her. “The storm will never be over for us.” He quietly buttoned her blouse. “I’m afraid it’s just beginning.”

“You’re afraid?”

“Yes.” He leaned against the damp cave wall and took out his pipe. “We can never belong to each other, Hannah. And I won’t settle for anything less.” He filled his pipe bowl, then took a long drag. The fragrant smoke filled the cave. “It’s more than separate careers, separate states. It’s who we are.”

Her smile was rueful. “Two stubborn people who won’t give an inch.”

“Precisely.”

“I followed you all the way up here and discovered, not much to my surprise, that you’re the same untamed independent wildcat I meet in Greenville. I guess I was old-fashioned enough to believe the cliché that absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Some hearts aren’t meant to grow fond.”

He sent a ring of smoke into the air before he responded. “Every heart is meant to grow fond.”