Primal Calling (12 page)

Medics guided him to a curtained-off bed and before
he'd slipped his arms out from under her, one of them took her temperature. “Eighty-nine-point-three,” she announced.

Another nurse started an IV and the one who'd taken her temperature placed a heated blanket over her, and then asked him to leave.

He wandered back to the waiting area, and the reception nurse called him up to fill out paperwork.

His hand was shaking as he took the clipboard and sat in the world's most uncomfortable plastic chair. As much time as he'd spent in this hospital's waiting room, he should know.

He closed his eyes and willed Serena to pull through.
Come on, Serena, wake up.
He wanted to be in there, holding her.

This was just like last time. Fourteen years ago. Same emergency room. Same helpless feeling…

Too many memories, too many images had tumbled around in his brain lately. Things he hadn't let himself think of in a long time.

Shelley hadn't deserved to die so young. She'd been the sweetest girl. So shy and gentle.

He wiped a hand over his mouth and realized his cheeks were wet. Clearing his throat, he stood, returned the clipboard to the desk with the forms incomplete and walked out.

 

S
OMEONE WAS CALLING
her name. Serena's mind cleared from the dream, and she woke up.

“Serena. Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes, or at least she thought she did. But they closed again. “I'm awake,” she tried to say. But it came out as gibberish. What was wrong with her? She felt so groggy. She forced her eyes open again and saw white ceiling tiles. Where was she? She turned her head and tried to ask the voice.

“Serena, you're in the hospital.”

Max? What was Max doing here? Wasn't he mad at her?

Max's callused hand swept her hair out of her face and lifted her chin until she was looking into his eyes. He wasn't mad. He was…scared.

She was shaking uncontrollably. She questioned him with her eyes. “Mags?”

“It's all right.” He held her hand while her teeth chattered so hard she thought she'd crack a tooth. What was wrong with her?

“You have hypothermia, Serena. But you're going to be all right.” He kept holding her hand, stroking her arm and murmuring soothing things to her.

Once her shaking had lessened, needles pricked her skin, painful and sharp. Max called a nurse and they gave her something to help.

“Better?” Max asked after the nurse left, leaning over her with worried eyes.

She smiled and nodded, clinging to his hand. So glad he was there.

The last thing she remembered was Max stroking her hair and smiling.

 

S
ERENA DREW
in a deep breath and snuggled deeper under the warm covers. She opened her eyes from a really great dream and saw Max, slumped in a chair beside her bed. His eyes were closed in sleep, his head fallen back, but his hand still held hers.

Lines creased his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his once clean shaven jaw sported a thick five-o'clock shadow. He must have been here a long time.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away and pulled off her oxygen mask. She didn't remember getting to the hospital. Had the police found her and called Max?

What was she going to do about him? Did this mean he believed she hadn't been going to snoop? Or merely that he forgave her?

A nurse bustled in to check her vitals and Max straightened in his chair. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his shaggy black hair, then his gaze found hers.

“Your heart rate is normal, Ms. Sandstone. Everything else looks good. You should be able to go home today.” She smiled and left.

Serena smiled at Max. “Hi.”

He didn't return her smile this time. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“What happened? I remember calling the police and then being so sleepy.”

“You almost died, Serena. What were you thinking driving in the dark and not telling anyone you were leaving?”

What, he could only be nice when she was dying? She glared at him. “Why are you here, anyway? Who called you?”

“He's the one who found you and brought you in,” Arna spoke from the doorway.

Chris smiled and waved from behind his wife. “Is this a good time to visit?”

Max had found her? Her anger evaporated. She looked back at him. He'd stood and paced to the window, staring out at another cloudy day.

“Sure, come on in.” She smiled at the couple who had been so nice to her. Guilt assailed her for not having had the guts to tell them goodbye. “I'm sorry for the way I left. I—I wasn't thinking clearly, obviously.”

“We're just glad you are well now.” This from Arna, who cracked a half smile for a minuscule second.

“We brought you these.” Chris swung a small bouquet of silk flowers from behind his back.

“Aw, Chris, how sweet.” She smiled at him and at Arna. “Thank you.”

“Max,” Chris said. “I took Mickey for a walk like you asked.”

Max swung around to face Chris. “Thanks.”

Chris turned back to Serena. “Max hasn't left your side since he took care of having your rental towed yesterday morning.”

Serena caught Max's impenetrable gaze. “Really?”

“I'll leave you guys to visit.” Max nodded solemnly to the couple and headed for the door.

“You don't have to go,” Serena protested, and Chris
repeated her sentiments, even if his statement didn't have the same desperate quality to it.

Max just waved a hand and left.

The room seemed colder, emptier. Serena forced a smile and invited Arna to have a seat. “So, how did Max know to come looking for me?”

“Evelyn had a vision,” Arna said as she took the chair Max had been sitting in. Chris moved to stand beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh.” Serena wasn't sure how she felt about these so-called visions. She still didn't understand the whole shaman thing and that weird stuff Evelyn had said. Something about Serena being the Searching One, and her spirit guides?

“Max has been like a man obsessed.” Chris shook his head. “I've never seen him like that before.”

“I have,” Arna said.

“When?” Serena asked.

“I was a candy striper here the day his wife died.” Arna's expression was blank, but there was purpose in her eyes.

“Arna, you said we shouldn't talk about Max's past.” Chris frowned at his wife.

She glanced up at her husband. “I was there. That's not rumor or gossip.”

Chris blinked at his wife's distinction. “Okay.” He shrugged. “Back then, I was only ten and still living in Seattle with my parents.” He gave her a rueful grin.

“Um, do you know what happened to his wife?” If Chris had been ten that meant it had happened around
fifteen years ago. Max had to have still been in high school. And his wife, too.

“Yes,” Arna answered.

Serena waited, expecting her to elaborate. Arna didn't. When Serena looked to Chris, he just shrugged and stared down at his wife.

“So, you want me to ask Max?”

“Yes.” Arna grinned and Serena wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it.

“We will go now.” Arna stood.

“Oh, by the way,” Chris said, and stepped toward her bed. “Max has your things at his place. He didn't want to leave your purse and laptop here.”

Serena thanked them for visiting, getting a hug from Chris and a wave from Arna before they left.

Soon after, the doctor came by, signed her release papers and she was free to go. But go where? And how? She could call a cab and head for the airport, but she couldn't pay for the ride without her purse. And what about this hospital bill?

After finding her clothes in a tiny closet, she got dressed and then inquired at the nurse's station and was told her insurance would be billed. Guess Max had gone through her purse for her insurance card.

What was she going to do now? A volunteer was waiting in her room with a wheelchair and she reluctantly sat, folding her ski jacket in her lap. There were always cabs waiting outside hospitals. Maybe she'd go back to the North Slope Inn and ask Chris to loan her the money for the cab and retrieve her things from Max. But she
hated to impose on him after skulking away from them in the middle of the night.

Argh. Maybe she'd just ask the volunteer to wheel her up to the psychiatric ward.

But when she got to the exit doors, there was Max, standing outside, leaning against his battered old truck with his arms folded over his chest. The wind blew the fur on his parka, and, though it was undoubtedly cloudy and cold, at least it wasn't sleeting.

Max saw her, pushed off his truck and opened the passenger door. Retrieving the Iñupiat parka she'd left at the North Slope Inn, he met her just inside the automatic glass doors.

“Where to?”

M
AX COULDN'T
take his eyes off Serena as she rose from the wheelchair. She cocked her head in that way she had with her eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“You didn't leave.”

He pointed his chin in the direction of the hospital's cafeteria. “Got some coffee.”

Maybe it was the black sweater she wore, but she looked paler, more vulnerable.

She had almost died.

Yet she was looking at him as if he'd just driven his dogsled a thousand miles to deliver lifesaving medicine. As if he was some kind of hero. She wouldn't have been out in that car at that time of night if he hadn't lost his temper. Or if he'd trusted her. “So, where to?” He repeated his question.

“Why are you here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “You don't have a car anymore. And even if you did, it's not like I'd let you drive yourself.”

She didn't smile. “I can take a cab.” She pointed at the two cabs parked nearby.

Max clenched his teeth. “Serena, just get in the truck, okay?” He held the thick parka out to her.

Her eyes sparked and she set her chin. Just as he was ready to walk away, she said, “Okay,” grabbed the coat and brushed past him out the door.

He probably should've let her take the cab. He still wasn't convinced she'd been telling the truth. He didn't know what the hell to think anymore. He only knew he wasn't ready to take her to the airport and put her on a plane.

He climbed into his truck and slammed the rusty door. Before he could start the engine, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

Reluctantly, he pulled back, took a deep breath. “I…shouldn't have lost my temper.” Without waiting for a response, he put the truck in gear.

Dammit. He tried to stare straight ahead but she cupped his cheek, turned him to face her and touched her lips to his. “I didn't read your papers, Max. Please believe me.”

Her dark blue eyes, so earnest, begging him to believe her. She shouldn't have to. He knew deep down she'd told the truth. He'd just been so damn angry he hadn't wanted to see it.

He'd never been more vulnerable to a woman than that night. Letting her in, to his home and his heart. Like Samson to her Delilah, he'd shaved himself of all
shields. And to see her standing there holding those papers had thrown his powerlessness in his face.

He gripped the back of her head and took her sweet mouth, kissing her so he wouldn't have to say the words.
I believe you. I just lost my temper. I'm sorry.

“Max.” She sighed into his mouth, kissing him back, swirling her tongue with his. “Take me home.” A mumble against his lips.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, took a deep breath and put the truck in gear.

As he drove he snuck a glance at her now and then. What did she think would happen now? What was going on in that beautiful head of hers? With Serena he never knew what she'd do next. What was that old saying? Never a dull moment? Or was it an old curse? May you never be bored?

At the cabin, Mickey greeted Serena with obvious joy. They were a pair. Openly affectionate, no reservations when it came to her feelings.

He cleared his throat. “How about some lunch?”

Her eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful. I'm starving.”

Pulling out his wallet, he ordered a large pizza with the works. Serena went to take a shower, and Max threw some logs on the grate and got a fire going.

Thirty minutes later they were chowing down in his kitchen. Serena made the barest attempt at small talk until she finished her second slice and declared herself stuffed.

Was she waiting for him to ask her to stay? She'd wait forever. “Serena, what are we doing here?”

She set her glass of water down and met his gaze with a determined look. “Arna says I should ask you what happened to your wife and child.”

Max stopped chewing. What the— He shoved away from the table and paced without seeing where he ended up. The woman was determined to strip him bare. He didn't want to talk about it.

Serena followed him into the den, took the photo from the bookshelf and studied it. “You were both so young.”

They had been. In some ways it seemed a lifetime ago. And sometimes it felt as fresh as yesterday.

“She looks like she was a sweet girl. Happy.”

He faced Serena. “She was.” Sighing, he moved to the sofa and sank down. Serena wasn't going to let this go. “We were high school sweethearts.” He'd had a crush on her since sixth grade, but didn't think she even knew he was alive. Most of the girls didn't want anything to do with him because he was always getting into fights. He was taller than most of the boys, and didn't go out of his way to smile or be nice to anyone.

“What was her name?” Serena asked.

He looked up. “Shelley.”

She'd lent him a piece of notebook paper one day in eighth grade and braved a sweet smile at him. That was all it took. She'd become the center of his existence.

“I got her pregnant our senior year and we got married.” His gaze drifted, seeing the past. He hadn't been
upset when she told him she was pregnant. He'd been thrilled. He'd wanted a child. Someone he could be a good dad to.

Her dad hadn't been thrilled, and who could blame him? But
Aanaga
had persuaded the man to give them his blessing and come to the wedding.

Max had gotten work on a fishing crew right after graduation and he and Shelley moved into this little house by the sea.

He took the photo from Serena and stared into Shelley's smiling face. “We
were
happy.” He'd finally felt he belonged. They were going to have such a good life. She used to blush and shush him whenever he'd rub her pregnant stomach and call it Shelley's belly. But her dad had been right to worry. If it hadn't been for Max, Shelley would be alive.

Serena sat beside him and covered his hand with hers. “What happened?”

He drew in a deep breath. “They called it placental abruption. By the time I got her to the hospital she'd lost too much blood.” He shook his head. “So much blood.”

“Oh, Max.” She squeezed his hand. “I'm so sorry.”

“It was my fault.”

She shook her head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I was away fishing. I left her alone.”

“You couldn't have known that would happen.”

“I should have.” He stood abruptly and returned the
photo to the bookshelf. Was he really going to tell her everything? “Because of my curse.”

Max waited for Serena to scoff.

“What are you talking about?”

Fingering a book's spine, he decided she might as well know. “Everyone I've been close to has died or left me. My soul has gone wandering, and I'm cursed until it returns.” He glanced at her. “It sounds crazy, doesn't it? Half the time I don't believe it myself. Tell myself it's just foolish superstition. But look what happened to you, after being with me. I won't be responsible for anyone else's death.” He stepped to the fireplace and took up the fire poker. “That's why my parents abandoned me. Why my wife and baby died. Why my friends died in the crash.”

“Friends?”

He stared at his hands. Hands that had buried Kevin and Mike as best he could in frozen ground. Hands that had bound a gash in Beau's leg and pulled him twenty miles. “We were college buddies. Good friends. The only friends I had.”

“Was it pilot error that caused your crash? Could you have done something differently?”

He finally met her gaze. “I don't know. I've gone over and over it in my head. Best I can figure we hit a wind sheer. Even then, I might have gotten things under control, but Mike… He never was good with heights. When we started going down, he lost it. Grabbed the yoke and started messing with the instrument panel.”

“But you saved one of them. Dragged him all the way to Nome.”

He hunkered down and jabbed at the burning logs. “I would have given my life for any of them. Or Shelley and our baby…”

 

S
ERENA COULD FEEL
the despair in his words. The guilt he carried over the death of his family and friends was eating away at him.

It did seem postrational to believe in things like curses. But even if she accepted it as truth, there was one thing he couldn't dispute.

“But Max.” She stood and took his hand in hers. “I didn't die.”

He shook his head. “This time.”

She put her hand on his chest. “I've ridden in your plane.
You
got us through a really bad storm. I got lost.
You
found me. I was hypothermic, and
you
saved me. I don't know, but maybe—” She shrugged. “Maybe saving me lifted the curse.”

He stilled.

“Max?”

“The Searching One,” he whispered.

Chill bumps rose on Serena's arm. “That's what your grandmother called me.” She thought back to what Evelyn had said. “Something about her spirit guides and—” Her heart raced, and she shuddered. “Max.” She gripped his shoulders and shook him, but his muscles were stiff beneath her fingers. He wouldn't look her in
the eye. “She said the Searching One would find your wandering soul.”

His eyes flat, he turned away. “Or you almost dying was a warning. And next time you won't be so lucky. I can't take a chance something else might happen. Something I can't fix. Or be there for.”

“So, if I leave here and we never see each other again, I won't ever die, or be in a bad accident? But if you and I continue our…affair, then you think I will die? You're prepared to be alone the rest of your life because you
might
be cursed?”

“What if it's true? Are you willing to take that risk? I'm not.”

“And what if your grandmother is right? And I
am
the Searching One who can bring your wandering soul home? And you send me away? Are you willing to take
that
chance?”

“Serena. No matter how you argue it, it's not worth your life.”

No way she was giving up without a fight. Maybe that was the reason she'd come here. Maybe she couldn't save the environment, like her dad, or oppressed peoples, but maybe she could help someone—love someone—and that was all the difference she needed to make.

“Max. I love you.”

He shook his head. “Let me take you back to the hotel.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” She reached down and pulled her sweater off over her head and dropped it to
the floor. His gaze shot down to her red bra and she heard him make a sound deep in his throat.

Yanking off her boots and tossing them away, she unzipped her jeans and pulled them off.

“Serena.” As his gaze lowered to her matching red thong, he licked his lips and took a step back.

“Do you want to know what I think?” She stalked him, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “I think I saw you in that airport for a reason.” One button undone.

He took another step back and she moved a step forward. “If you can believe in a curse, I can believe in fate.” Another button loose.

His legs hit the sofa and he fell back. She jumped on him, straddling his waist. Max helped her finish the rest of the buttons. As soon as he pushed the last button through, she spread his shirt wide and ran her hands over his hard chest.

His jaw set, he grabbed her wrists. Emotion had finally filled his dark eyes. “I'll still want you to leave.”

She leaned down and kissed his lips, her hair falling forward. One step at a time. “Just kiss me, Max.”

At first his lips remained still beneath hers. But they softened as she kept pressing her mouth to his, nibbling on his lower lip until he opened and let her in.

Taking over the kiss, his tongue played with hers. He released her wrists, reached around and unhooked her bra. His arms encircled her and one hand cupped her butt.

Running her hands over his shoulders, she pushed his shirt off, and then fumbled with his jeans until she
got him unzipped and pulled out his hard cock. He was busy spreading kisses around her breasts and down her stomach.

“Your skin is so soft,” he mumbled against the side of her breast. His hands cupped her breasts then slid down to her waist. “You're so beautiful.” He lifted her off him and flipped her to her back. Slowly he kissed down her body, moving between her thighs to suckle her clit through her thong.

More. As he moved to find his wallet and pull out a packet, she pulled off her panties. She didn't want anything between them. Then he was back, stroking her with his tongue, worshipping her with his mouth.

His eyes were so full of passion, his voice so tinged with emotion as he mumbled her name. His intensity sent her over the edge and he entered her before she could recover her breath.

He pumped hard and swift, a driving rhythm, as if he were purging all his demons by making love to her. Maybe he was.

Maybe they both were.

He pushed in one last time and tensed, his eyes squeezed closed, his back and arm muscles straining. “Serena.” He laid his head beside her while she caressed his back.

“What if I had lost you?” His voice was low in her ear.

“You didn't. You won't.”

“I can't go through it again.”

He still lay between her thighs, still inside her. She'd
never felt so close to someone. She hugged her arms around him as if she could keep him with her always. “It's not going to happen. I've found you. I won't let you go.”

He released a shuddering breath and moved to her side. But he gathered her up in his arms and nuzzled into her neck. “Serena.”

She loved hearing her name on his lips. Everything would work out. Things were going to be all right. Snuggling against him, she closed her eyes, so tired.