Midnight Sun (17 page)

Carl sat on the seat behind her and leaned over her shoulder. He sucked in a breath when she exposed the gash in the co-pilot’s side.

“That’s going to take more than a bandage.”

No kidding. She wasn’t equipped to deal with this. She avoided George’s questioning gaze as she inspected the wound, so he lifted his head to try to see. She pushed his head back to the floor.

“I’ll—take care of it.” Though she had no idea how.

Marcus slumped against the wall of the fuselage beside Brylie and rested his arms on his knees. Both their patients were as stable as they could make them after Brylie applied pressure bandages to George and Marcus warmed his brother the best he could. A concussion was most likely, but there was nothing they could do about it. Carl snored along the wall against the cockpit. She worried about him sleeping in the cold, but reasoned their location in the front of the plane was warm enough, with the lantern and body heat. Brylie had scavenged the plane, and in addition to the paraffin lantern they’d brought from the wrecked helicopter, she’d found pillows and blankets. She’d hung one of the blankets over the opening of the plane. While it didn’t cover the entire opening, it did cut some of the wind. Carl huddled beneath another, along with a space blanket. She was so cold she could barely move her hands, though she’d put her gloves back on after patching up George’s wounds and curled up with Marcus in a nest of blankets against the bulkhead.

“Are you going to let me look at your leg now?”

“Nothing you can do.” He pulled an energy bar out of the pack and offered her one. She shook her head, but he held it out insistently. “You need to eat. Your body needs more calories in the cold.”

She took it reluctantly. “Has Harris regained consciousness?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how long I can keep him going.”

“The rescue plane should be here in a couple of hours.” She had no idea how long—a flight from Australia to Antarctica was usually about four hours, but who knew, with the weather, and preparations they’d have to make beforehand. Maybe two, maybe three, maybe longer. “Is your ankle broken?”

He shifted his gaze without moving his head. “Hairline fracture, probably. I’ve had worse.”

“Let me see it.”

“Nothing you can do,” he repeated, but shoved up his pants anyway.

The skin above his boot was swollen and almost purple. She couldn’t help the gasp of alarm. “We need to get the boot off.”

He shook his head. “Won’t be able to get it back on, and who knows if we’ll have to walk out of this place. Don’t want frostbite.”

“At least unlace it.” God. Her stomach roiled and she skimmed her hand over the swollen skin. It was hot to the touch. “You’ve been walking on that?”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Not if I can help it.”

“Should we wrap it up to give it some kind of support?”

He pulled his pants back into place. “Let’s just wait. You said they won’t be long.”

She hoped.

“You’re shivering.” He shifted and pulled a blanket over both of them. “Come here.” He wrapped his arm around her, unzipped his jacket and pulled her against his side.

His body heat penetrated through his layers of clothes. She curled her fist into the front of his shirt. She wanted so badly to fall asleep listening to the beat of his heart, but in this cold, she knew that would be a mistake. So she sought for a topic of conversation. Her gaze fell on his brother, taking in his lined face and graying brown hair, a shade lighter than Marcus’s.

“How much older is Harris than you?”

“Eight years.”

“Are you close?”

He snorted a laugh. “Not at all. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

She shifted to look up at him, not letting him turn the conversation around on her. “If you’re not close, why did he come out here with the ransom?”

He shrugged. “Guilt, maybe? He sent me on this trip, figured he had to bail me out, again.”

“Which is why you aren’t close.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Brothers and sisters?”

She huffed out a breath. She didn’t want to talk about herself, but at least the conversation was taking his mind off their predicament. “Only child.”

“Must have been rough when your parents split, being on your own. How old were you?”

“Twelve. I didn’t mind too much.” She twisted her hands in the hem of her sweatshirt. “I like being by myself.”

He chuckled. “Which is why you work in a hot room full of frantic people on a cruise ship?”

She smiled. “Probably why I like being by myself so much.”

“Tell me what happened to chase you out of New York.”

She really didn’t want to talk about that, let him know what an idiot she’d been.  Shame burned her cheeks. She hadn’t let Marcus see too many of her weaknesses, and those he’d seen were based on emotion, not poor choices. “I don’t want to talk about it.” In fact she hadn’t, to anyone. Not even her father knew the reason she’d fled to Australia to work on his cruise ship.

“You think I’ve never made a mistake? How do you think I ended up on the Ice Queen?” He flexed his good hand to remind her of the fight that sent him here. “So ‘fess up.”

She sighed. Why not tell him? They didn’t have the possibility of a future anyway. He was the boss and, well, she didn’t know if she could go back on that ship again after this cruise anyway. “A guy. It’s always a guy. Ethan said he was divorced. His wife Lily thought otherwise. She was very powerful, had a lot of friends and a lot of money, and she burned me. I couldn’t get another job in the state, and then when I went to San Francisco, she found out and burned me there, too.”

He blew out a whistle. “Pretty harsh, seeing as her husband was to blame.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I probably shouldn’t have been so eager to believe him.”

“You were a kid.”

She shifted to look up at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re not that old now.”

She wanted to take the out he offered her, but couldn’t offer up an excuse for her behavior. “You know as well as I do that being a kid isn’t an excuse. I was perfectly willing to act as a grown-up with him.” She didn’t want to discuss her former sex life with Marcus, didn’t want him thinking about her with another man. Didn’t want to think about Ethan when she was with Marcus, how slimy she’d felt, inside and out, when she learned he was still married.

Marcus’s tone was anything but lascivious when he asked, “How long were you together?”

“Four months.” Four exciting months when she’d been the toast of the town and madly in love. Rising up so high had only made her fall hurt that much more.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Big price to pay for a short time.”

No kidding. The bruises to her pride—and her heart—were still tender. “My decision.”

“Would you go back to New York if you could?”

Trick question. Did he want to know as her lover, so he’d know how far apart they’d be once this was over? Or as her employer, who’d have to find another chef if she went back? Or was he just curious? She took a deep breath and gave him the honest answer.

“I loved New York. There was energy there, and I was good at what I did, Marcus. You haven’t really seen that, but I’m good at what I do. One little mistake put me in exile.”

He rested his head against the side of the fuselage with a sigh. Of course he’d know what that was like. Wasn’t he here for the same reason?

“Think we’ve learned our lesson?” he asked.

“It’s easier for you to go back than me.”

“Nah, I won’t snowboard again. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be a medic, not after today.” He nodded toward Harris’s prone form.

Time to divert his attention again. “So why are you a snowboarder? I wouldn’t think there’s that much snow in Australia.”

“New Zealand, though.” His grin colored his voice. “My family enjoyed ski vacations. And I was too stubborn to enjoy what my family did, so I found other outlets. The snowboarders I met were cool—tattooed and pierced, and they made my parents nervous, so of course I was drawn to them.”

“But you don’t have any tattoos or piercings.”

He chuckled and tapped his earlobe, then his lower lip. “My piercings closed up, and I never could decide what I wanted for a tattoo. Decisions aren’t exactly my thing. For example, a career. I came out on the Ice Queen thinking I’d find it. Needing to find it. Now, shit. I don’t know.”

 “What about running security on the ships? I think you’d be good at it, especially now that you see where the gaps are. It might be hard at first, but you’re a good problem solver.”

He jolted, then shifted to look down at her. “I’m a what? What makes you say that?”

She lifted a shoulder. “You thought fast, you worked through until you found solutions, and you weren’t afraid to act on them.”

He settled back against the side of the plane and didn’t speak for a bit. “I’m not scared of hard work. I just don’t really like being shot at and crashing.”

His indignant tone surprised a laugh out of her. He grinned in return and curved his gloved fingers under her chin, lifting her face for his kiss.

His mouth was warm and tasted of the fruit bar he’d just eaten, sweet, with a hint of spice. She curled into him, drawing a hiss of pain when she accidentally bumped his leg.

“Sorry! Sorry,” she murmured, but he pulled her back in for another kiss, reaching for her hips to lift her over him, to straddle him. “Very important things can freeze off,” she warned.

“I’m not getting naked, just using body heat.” He unzipped her coat and wrapped his arms around her waist beneath the bulk of it, then skimmed his hand over her breast, and her shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

This was such a bad idea, rubbing up against him, considering who he was, especially when she didn’t know what the future would hold. She hadn’t let herself think about that when they’d been hiding from the terrorists, and didn’t want to think about it now. His kisses were incredible—and apparently she’d learned nothing from her New York experience. Not that she thought Marcus would set her off the ship when he was tired of her—no, he’d be the one to walk away.

Like that would hurt any less.

So she should be the one to pull away. She just didn’t have the strength to do it yet.

He broke the kiss and nuzzled her throat, dragging her hips forward, snug against his and the rising erection she felt through the layer of clothes. She slipped her fingers under the knit of his hat to stroke his hair, savoring everything, knowing soon she’d no longer have it.

A groan from the front of the plane drew their attention. In a flash, he broke the kiss and set her aside, climbing to his knees. He’d clearly forgotten about his leg, because he winced when the toe of his boot touched the floor.

“I’ll go.” She put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“It’s my brother.” He tossed the blankets tangling about him aside and edged past George to reach Harris.

Brylie followed, gripping the back of the chair as Marcus crouched and touched Harris’s face. Harris turned his head toward Marcus.

“Where am I?”

“Antarctica. I’d ask you why if you hadn’t been unconscious for the past few hours.”

Harris slitted his eyes against the dim light. “I thought you were on the ship. I thought you needed to be ransomed.”

“Got myself out of the scrape this time, just to see if you’d notice. Hey, take it easy,” he said when Harris tried to turn, and he pressed a hand to his brother’s shoulder to keep him still. “We don’t know how bad you’re hurt.”

“What happened?”

“Your plane crashed. I came to save you for a change.”

Harris curled up in an attempt to sit, but Marcus kept his grip firm. “So what are we waiting for? I’m so cold my balls—” He glanced past Marcus and saw Brylie, stopping the flow of words. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Slight problem with the plan.” Marcus told him quickly about how the helicopter crashed and they were awaiting rescue themselves.

“Nice plan.” Harris rested his head on the pillow Marcus had tucked behind him. “How long will that be?”

“We’re out of radio contact right now. I can’t say. Do you remember what happened before you crashed?”

Harris tried to shake his head, but stopped abruptly, eyes narrowed in pain.

“Why weren’t you buckled in?” Marcus asked.

Harris scowled. “I was.”

“Not when we got here.”

“Who’s we?” Harris’s gaze turned back to Brylie. “Are you Brylie?”

“I am.”

“My brother got you into more trouble?”

“Looks like.”

“You have to watch out for him. That’s his specialty. How did you get away from the pirates?”

He listened as they told him about the rescue ship and their need to fight back on their own. His eyes drifted shut as if keeping them open took too much energy. “You’re lucky you didn’t get killed. That no one on board got killed because of your decision.”

Marcus gritted his teeth. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Could have been a big lawsuit. Bad enough we still have fall-out from the thing with the senator’s son.”

Brylie saw the flash of pain on Marcus’s face that had nothing to do with his injuries. Then his expression changed to something she hadn’t seen since she first spotted him in the bar in Hobart. It was almost a sneer that broadcast an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. She winced, recognizing it for the mask it was, and she wanted to reach out to him, to ground him, but he was already pushing to his feet.

“That you remember, but you don’t know how you crashed.” Marcus turned and hobbled past Brylie to the back of the plane.

Brylie watched him go, her heart urging her to go after him, her mind reminding her that they were too much alike, that he needed to nurse his pain in private. Instead, she took Marcus’s place at Harris’s side.

“You’re too hard on him,” she chided, tucking the blanket more securely about Harris’s shoulders. Odd she should feel so comfortable confronting him after only a few conversations with him on the sat phone. After all, he was more her boss than Marcus. But her need to defend Marcus defeated her usual sense of self-preservation. “He came out here because he was worried about you.”