What he might have suffered in the process, Eve didn’t allow herself to imagine. Her struggle wasn’t done. Raising his arms over his head and gripping him by his big hands, she dragged him inch by inch away from the plane. He was a heavy, solid man, but the snow helped, letting her slide his body over its slick surface.
Eve delivered him a safe distance away from the hazardous plane. Winded, she wanted nothing more than to collapse at his side. Not possible. She had remembered something. His coat. He would freeze out here without it.
As much as she wanted to keep far away from the plane, she had no choice. The flames were visible now, licking slowly but steadily in the direction of the wings.
There was a haze of smoke in the cabin when she returned to the plane, making it difficult to see anything at all. She dared not climb inside. Stretching out her hands as far as they would reach, head averted to keep from inhaling the fumes, she felt around for his coat where he had dropped it between the front seats.
Eve had paid no attention to what their pilot had been wearing, but she remembered that Sam’s coat was a dark leather. When her fingers came in contact with a smoothness that could only mean leather, she knew she had the right coat. No telling where his gun had landed when the plane crashed. Nor did she have the time to look for it.
Grabbing up the coat, she spared a last glance at the lifeless figure of Ken Redfeather. Guilt seized her at the necessity of abandoning him. It couldn’t be helped.
Hugging the thick coat to her breasts, and pausing only long enough to retrieve her shoulder bag, Eve trotted back to the pine tree under which she had deposited Sam on his back. She didn’t think she had the strength left in her to lift him into a sitting position and support him long enough to get him into the coat. Crouching beside him, she did the next best thing, spreading the coat over him and tucking it snugly against his sides.
The coat was enough to keep out the worst of the cold. But it was no protection when a minute later, just as she had feared, the heat of the fire reached the wings containing the fuel. There was a horrific blast, followed almost immediately by a second explosion.
Eve’s reaction, when she flung herself full length over Sam’s inert body, was an instinctive one. Or so she told herself. Face buried against his neck, she heard the hiss of hot metal raining down on the snow. Thankfully, none of those shards fell on them.
There was snow, too, in the air. She noticed it when she turned her head. It must have been drifting down in feathery flakes even before the crash, but Eve hadn’t been conscious of it until now. It was a soft, gentle snowfall. An ironic contrast to the violence she had just experienced.
There was something else she was acutely aware of. The hardness of the body she was covering. Even through the layers of the coat, she could feel his muscular strength. More than that. With her nose pressed against the exposed skin of his throat, she was able to detect his scent. The faint, clean fragrance of his soap mingled with something masculine. Something that was distinctly Sam McDonough.
Eve had a sudden longing to do more than inhale him. A longing to flick her tongue over that warm throat where his pulse beat a seductive rhythm. A longing to taste him.
Insanity. Don’t go there. Not with a man you don’t like and who doesn’t like you.
Hastily pulling away from him, she rolled over and sat up in the snow, drawing her knees to her chest. Tragic though it was, the fire made a welcome distraction. The crackling blaze by now had engulfed the entire plane. Several of the trees nearest the aircraft had gone up like torches, but fortunately the snow prevented the flames from spreading into the forest.
Eve knew she should be thankful for their safety. And she was. But a new reality was beginning to settle on her. A harsh one. The reality that they were on their own in the Canadian wilderness, and no one knew where they were.
Except—
A sudden recollection occurred to her. Last spring she had edited an article for her magazine about recreational aviation. The author had described the safety features of small, private airplanes. One of those features was a unit that automatically sent out signals in the event that a plane went down.
What was the thing called? Eve searched her memory. Emergency Locator Transmitter. That was it. And if Ken Redfeather’s plane had been equipped with an ELT, then—
Forget it. If such a device had existed, then it would be toast by now in the conflagration that was still raging. There could be no prospect of the plane being found and its survivors rescued. At least not by that method.
No question about it. Their plight was a dismal, desperate one. Forced down in the middle of nowhere, where the vastness was still locked in winter. An enemy somewhere out there who might not be satisfied that she was no longer a threat. And all of it complicated by a difficult man who shared this calamity with her.
Sam McDonough, who from the beginning had made no secret about what he thought of her. Never mind asking herself why. He just had.
She looked down at him, her eyes lingering on his mouth as she remembered his gruff commands to her. And even if the wide mouth that had issued those commands was the most sensual male mouth Eve had ever laid eyes on, the man behind it was still unpleasant.
This isn’t helping. You can’t go on sitting here like this doing nothing.
Right. But whatever decisions confronted her, they had to wait. First she needed to make some effort to rouse Sam.
And don’t let yourself wonder if that might not be possible. Just do it.
How? Exactly how was she supposed to manage that? There was only one way she could think of. Getting to her knees and scooping up a handful of snow, Eve leaned over him. She started to apply the snow, but her hand paused in its descent, her gaze captured by the sight of his face.
It was a strong, compelling face beneath a thatch of dark brown hair. A seasoned face with angular features and a square jaw. There was a certain toughness about it that didn’t surprise her. What she didn’t expect was the complete lack of tautness. A tightness of expression that had clearly been there during his conscious state, hinting at some dark, inner struggle. Or was she just imagining the whole thing?
All right, so you’re sexually attracted to this man. You’d better control your susceptibility if you don’t want to get hurt.
It was a sensible instruction. Eve obeyed it as she briskly rubbed the snow over his face, hoping its wet cold would wake him. Praying he wasn’t in some coma she couldn’t penetrate.
“Sam,” she called to him urgently, “can you hear me?”
Her treatment must have worked, but not as she’d anticipated. Instead of stirring slowly, he startled her when he came to with a sudden jerk of his body, as if shocked out of a deep sleep. The next thing Eve knew she was gazing into a pair of brown eyes with amber lights in them.
Those eyes focused on her face bent over his. There was puzzlement in them. She waited for the familiar scowl when he recognized her. She didn’t get it. There was something entirely different. A grin of pleased discovery that spread across his rugged features. It was accompanied by his deep, rich voice with a low but untroubled tone that amazed her as much as the words that came out of his mouth.
“Whoever you are, angel, please tell me that we’re more, much more, than just casual acquaintances.”
Eve caught her breath in disbelief. This was a man she didn’t know. She was looking into the eyes of a stranger. What on earth was happening?
When she was able to breathe again, she uttered a hoarse “You can’t be serious. You must know I’m Eve. Eve Warren.”
“Hello, Eve Warren,” he said, caressing