Midnight Sons Volume 3 (4 page)

C
HRISTIAN WAS ABOUT
to kiss her. Mariah read the longing in his eyes and felt a rush of anticipation. Her hand closed around the precious jade figurine as she realized that her patience with Christian had finally paid dividends. She was about to receive her reward.

Her eyes drifted shut as she awaited his touch. She’d dreamed of this, of exchanging tender kisses, followed by passionate ones. Now the dream was about to become reality.

Mariah waited for what seemed far too long. Nothing happened. Flustered, she opened her eyes and looked at him. To her utter embarrassment, she saw Christian sitting with his hands locked around the truck’s steering wheel. His jaw was clamped tightly, his mouth tense.

Mortified, Mariah swallowed and gathered her composure. Christian refused to kiss her? Well, so be it. She would resign herself to his cowardice. And her own disappointment.

Still, she had to acknowledge that he’d made progress in
the week she’d been away. He’d apologized for his childish behavior toward her and bought her a gift. For now that was enough.

The flight into Hard Luck seemed to go quickly. At first, the nonkissing incident left them both feeling awkward and ill at ease, but after a year of working in the same office, they were familiar enough with each other that they became comfortable companions once again.

By the time they made their descent into Hard Luck, they were chatting amicably, like people with a number of mutual friends and shared interests.

After Christian had parked and secured the aircraft, he piled her suitcase and other packages in the company truck. “It’s good to be home,” Mariah whispered with a heartfelt sigh of appreciation. Her week away had been enjoyable and relaxing, but she was grateful to get back to her normal life.

Although she insisted it wasn’t necessary, Christian drove her to her small log cabin on the outskirts of town. He kept the engine running as he leaped out of the cab and carried in her suitcase. He stopped abruptly just inside the door.

“Is something wrong?” she asked nervously, stepping up behind him.

“I’m surprised, that’s all,” he answered after a thoughtful pause.

“Surprised?”

“You’ve done a terrific job with this place.” Before she could ask what he meant, he elaborated. “Decorating the old cabin. It’s really nice. Downright homey.”

“This
is
my home, Christian.” She’d worked hard to make her space both livable and pleasing to the eye. That meant more than adding lace curtains to the windows. One of the first
things she’d done was get rid of the chunky, oddly shaped furniture that came with the cabin. She’d replaced it, a piece at a time, with furniture that suited her needs—not the easiest task when you lived in the Arctic. She’d bought some chairs from Matt, had her bed shipped up from home, ordered fabric and a small table and a replica nineteenth-century oil lamp from catalogs. She had an eye for color and detail and was genuinely pleased with what she’d managed to achieve in her cramped quarters.

Christian set the suitcase down in the center of the room, on the green-and-rose braided rug she’d purchased on a trip to Fairbanks six months ago. She’d also splurged on a quilt that picked up the same colors.

“Thank you again,” she said, smiling. “I had a lovely evening. I appreciate your flying in for me, the dinner and…everything else.”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable with her gratitude. “I’ll see you Monday morning,” he said a bit gruffly.

“Monday,” she echoed.

As Christian walked past her, he paused and casually kissed her on the lips. He’d gone another couple of steps before he appeared to realize what he’d done. He came to a sudden halt, shook his head as if to clear it, then continued on to the truck.

M
ONDAY MORNING
, when Mariah entered the office, she was greeted with chaos. Two phone lines rang simultaneously and the fax had started transmitting data. Christian was frantically searching through the filing cabinet, demanding to know where she’d hidden the Freemont account.

Concealing a smile, she located the file, answered the
phone and dealt with the fax. It did her heart good to know she’d been missed.

“Welcome back,” Sawyer told her two hours later. It was the first quiet moment that morning.

“Was it this hectic all week?” Mariah had barely had a chance to take off her sweater. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Pilots had been coming and going every few minutes, and they all seemed to need something—a scheduling change, a form, some information. It hadn’t helped that Christian was having a crisis of his own over the Freemont account. He spent much of the morning ranting and raving, unable to locate various crucial documents. Every time, it was Mariah who quietly and efficiently silenced him by supplying whatever he needed.

“We pretty much handled everything ourselves,” Sawyer answered, “but we’re sure glad you’re back.”

“You can say that again,” Christian seconded, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. Sawyer glanced at his brother and then at Mariah. He considered them shrewdly.

Mariah sat down and turned on her computer. The hard drive had begun its familiar hum when Christian ended his telephone conversation and approached her desk.

“I’m going to need you to make travel arrangements for me,” he told her.

“Of course.” Christian would be traveling? Somewhat surprised, she reached for a pencil and pad.

“I’ll be visiting my mother in British Columbia and then stopping in Seattle.”

“That won’t be any problem. How long will you be away?” Picking up the small calendar on her desk, she waited for him to give her the dates.

“Say, ten days from Friday—” he pointed to the end of that week “—until Sunday of the following week. And I’d like reservations at our usual hotel in Seattle. Oh, and Scott and Susan will be traveling with me as far as Vancouver. I’ll go on to Seattle Monday or Tuesday, then back to Vancouver and home.”

“I’ll see to everything this afternoon,” Mariah promised.

“While you’re at it, could you get me the names of a couple of five-star Seattle restaurants?” Christian asked.

“Restaurants.” She made a notation on her pad. “I know of a number in the downtown area that cater to businessmen.” And Tracy would be happy to give her suggestions, too.

“I wasn’t thinking of a business dinner,” Christian said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be seeing a…friend while I’m in town. A good friend.”

A few minutes later, Mariah was on the phone with the airline when she happened to overhear the two brothers talking.

“A friend?” Sawyer asked.

“Yeah, Allison Reynolds.” Even from across the room, she saw Christian’s eyes brighten with what could only be described as excitement. “You might remember her,” he added.

Mariah felt as if she’d been slapped. No one needed to tell her who Allison Reynolds was—the secretary Mariah had replaced.

“You’re going to be seeing Allison?” Sawyer asked, lowering his voice, obviously afraid Mariah would hear. Well, it was too late; she’d already heard.

“Yeah,” Christian murmured, preoccupied with a fax. “I talked to her the other night and promised to call her back as soon as I knew when I’d be arriving. I’m hoping I’ll convince her to give Hard Luck a second chance.”

Sawyer held on to his pencil with both hands and darted a look toward Mariah. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Why isn’t it?” Christian asked, his voice equally low. He set aside the fax and confronted his brother openly. “She’s beautiful, witty, charming and we’d be fortunate to have her. Let’s talk about this later, all right?”

Sawyer frowned.

Mariah couldn’t believe her ears. Christian actually planned on luring her replacement to Hard Luck. Furthermore, he expected
her
to make the arrangements!

“M
OM, SHOULD
I
PACK
my Barbie playhouse?” Susan called from her bedroom.

Abbey took the towel from the dryer, folded it and set it on the washer. “No, sweetheart. You can only take one suitcase each. You won’t have room for all your Barbie things.”

“You know my mother’s going to spoil those kids, don’t you?” Sawyer said, leaning against the laundry-room door.

“I know. Scott and Susan will be impossible to live with by the time they return.”

“But we’ll have an entire week to ourselves.” Sawyer waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I sincerely hope you intend to spoil
me
next week.”

Abbey kissed her husband and nuzzled her nose against his. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Sawyer’s eyes gleamed. “Barbie and Ken will play while the kids are away.”

“Sawyer!”

Her husband chuckled and slid his arms around her waist. “It’s too bad Christian will be gone, too, because that means I won’t be able to get away much myself.”

“We’ll manage,” Abbey assured him.

“A second honeymoon,” Sawyer murmured, grinning provocatively. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I still haven’t recovered from the first one.”

“You seem to have done pretty well for yourself!”

“Mom, Dad, you’ll remember to feed Eagle Catcher, won’t you?” Scott asked, poking his head into the laundry room.

Her son seemed genuinely concerned, as if he wasn’t sure he should trust them with his much-loved friend, even if it was only for ten days. And even if he’d once been Sawyer’s dog.

“We’ll remember,” she said.

“It’s important, Mom,” Scott insisted. “This is just the second time we’ve been separated, and Eagle Catcher might worry. I had a long talk with him, but I’m not sure he understood.”

“I promise we’ll remember,” Sawyer told him solemnly.

“Good.” Scott looked relieved and disappeared.

Sawyer gently patted Abbey’s protruding stomach. “This time alone will be good for us,” he told her, his eyes serious. “After the baby arrives, everything will change.”

Abbey knew her husband was right, but it would be a wonderful kind of change. So far the pregnancy had caused her almost no trouble, physically or emotionally. No morning sickness, no drastic mood swings. She loved Scott and Susan with a ferocity only a mother could understand, but their pregnancies had drained her. It was different with Sawyer’s baby. The comfort of his love, the assurance that he’d move heaven and earth on her behalf, eased her worries.

“Mom!” Susan screeched from the hallway. “Should I pack my Bible?”

Abbey sighed and pressed her forehead against Sawyer’s shoulder. “I’d better go supervise those two.” She called to the kids that she’d be there in a minute.

“I’ll finish up here,” Sawyer said, gathering the rest of the towels from the dryer.

“Sawyer.”

When he turned around, she leaned forward and kissed him with a hunger they generally reserved for the bedroom.

A low rumble of arousal came from her husband as she started to leave. Sawyer caught her hand. “What was that all about?”

She offered him a saucy smile. “Just a sample of what’s available later.”

“How much later?”

Abbey smiled again and stroked his face. “As soon as the kids are gone, you and I can pick up where that left off.” She walked out of the laundry room, but not before she noticed Sawyer staring at his watch, calculating the hours before they’d be alone.

A
LLISON
R
EYNOLDS
was as beautiful as Christian remembered. Even more so. Heads turned when they walked into the five-star restaurant. He’d never realized how much a beautiful woman could improve a man’s image and raise his self-esteem. He had no doubt that he was the envy of every man there. Any vague, nagging thoughts about superficial values or shallow choices were easy enough to suppress.

He hadn’t been in the Seattle hotel five minutes before he made a point of phoning Allison. He’d made another phone call, too, but this one was to Hard Luck. He’d had to call Mariah regarding a variety of subjects, all of them business-related.

It might have been his imagination, but her greeting had seemed decidedly cool. He wasn’t sure what to make of her chilly tone, but whatever the problem, Sawyer could handle it. As for him, he was taking a well-deserved break from the office. He was willing to admit privately that his business dealings in Seattle, however necessary, were a pretext; his primary reason for coming here had to do with the beauty on his arm.

“I have a reservation for seven o’clock,” Christian informed the maître d’.

Allison smiled up at him sweetly, and it was all he could do to pull his gaze away. He’d been mildly surprised by her dress; short and slinky, it revealed every curve of her luscious body. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. But the front was deeply cut, and that appeared to bring her a lot of unwanted attention—unwanted, at least, by him. He was the one buying her dinner, and he wasn’t all that pleased to be sharing her, even vicariously, with anyone else.

“This way,” the man said, tucking two menus under his arm. The restaurant had been one of Mariah’s recommendations, and she’d chosen well. He’d have to thank her when he returned. The dim interior suited him perfectly. Lights from the waterfront shimmered on the glass-smooth surface of Elliott Bay. A ferry sailed in the distance, its lights blazing.

“This place is great,” Allison said once they were seated.

“My secretary chose it.” He had to stop himself from telling Allison about Mariah. The stories would have them both in stitches, but he didn’t want to spend the evening thinking about Mariah. Although her lack of friendliness earlier today continued to nag at him…

Allison leaned forward. “I’m so glad you found someone
else to work for you. Personally I can’t imagine anyone lasting more than a day or two in that desolation.”

Desolation. The Arctic? Hard Luck? Why, it was one of the most beautiful places on earth! Give him home any day of the week over the smog and traffic of the big city. Even a city as pleasing to the eye as Seattle. The noise alone had kept him awake most of the night. Street sounds had reverberated from the cluttered avenues and echoed against the skyscrapers. And in his expensive hotel, he’d heard the elevator and laughter in the halls and the TV next door. No wonder he felt suddenly tired and let down.