I'll Be Home for Christmas Read online

  It wasn’t another woman that’d taken Mark away, but Maxim had no plans to divulge what he knew, especially to Adelaide. He remained silent.

  “I felt he was forgetting everything we’d promised each other, you know? Everything we’d once been to each other. We’d started off so strong, had so much fun together.”

  Being aware of the truth made it awkward to talk about Mark, but it didn’t stop the jealousy that sprang up out of nowhere. “He was probably just busy, stressed,” Maxim muttered. “You know how it is in politics.”

  “You think so?” she asked as if she valued his opinion.

  He knew what she wanted to hear. “Of course,” he said but winced at the lie. Only a fool would cheat on a woman like Adelaide, but Mark had been a fool, and more.

  As it grew noticeably colder, Maxim thought about getting in that sleeping bag with her. He wanted to keep her warm, but it felt as though they were the only two people on earth, and that made barriers of propriety hard to maintain. It was difficult to worry about tomorrow when he wasn’t sure he’d make it through today.

  He talked about the election, what the governor must think now that they’d gone missing, what they’d be doing if they’d stayed in Tahoe, what his girls were taking in school. He was trying to keep their minds off the cold, but it wasn’t long before she interrupted.

  “Are...are you g-going to stay over there all n-night?”

  Her teeth were starting to chatter. He couldn’t let her lose too much body heat before joining her in that bag, but he was afraid his body would give away the fact that the intimacy they’d shared before hadn’t been strictly a matter of necessity. He’d wanted to make love to Adelaide Fairfax for a long time. He’d even dreamed about it on occasion—like after that chamber mixer they’d both attended in Roseville a couple of weeks ago.

  “I’ll come over in a minute,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  He waited for his arousal to disappear, but every time it did, the thought of joining her brought it back.

  “Maxim?”

  He was leaning forward, resting his head in his hands. “Yeah?”

  “W-what about now?”

  He knew that asking required her to sacrifice her pride. She’d rather pretend she didn’t need him. For some reason, she tried not to need anybody.

  Busy contemplating what to do, he didn’t respond, which prompted her to ask, “Hey, are you still there?”

  At the panic in her voice, he closed his eyes. “Of course I’m here,” he said and took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Oh. Right.” He expected her to let go, but she didn’t. She wound her fingers through his. “But...you d-don’t want to sh-share this bag with me?”

  What the hell, he decided. Why worry about an erection? If he wasn’t hard already, he would be the second he touched her.

  “Sure.” Silently cursing his unmistakable reaction to her, he felt his way over. With the dampness that seemed to permeate everything, their clothes hadn’t had a chance to dry. He was still in his boxers and she was in her underwear, but he stripped off his coat and Cox’s boots and climbed in. Then he used the blankets to cover the bag.

  * * *

  At first, Adelaide was timid about curling up against Maxim. They remained stiff, lying next to each other without speaking or moving. But as the minutes passed, she snuggled closer, eventually wrapping her arms around him. She could feel his erection pressing boldly against her abdomen—everything about Maxim Donahue was bold—but she didn’t react to his arousal. And he kept his hands to himself, letting her take what she wanted from his body without asking for anything in return.

  Adelaide tried to be appeased by that, but she quickly realized one-sided cuddling wasn’t very satisfying. “Do you think you could act a little less...unwilling to be here?” she whispered.

  He complied by shifting so she could lie on his shoulder, and she grew warm. She expected him to relax and drift off to sleep, but he didn’t. His erection remained firm and ready, an ever-present reminder of what they’d shared last night. Soon she caught herself changing positions so she could feel the pressure of it.

  “Adelaide?” He spoke her name gruffly.

  “Yes?”

  “Any chance you could hold still?”

  “Sure,” she said, embarrassed. But her embarrassment lasted only as long as her restraint. Reckless abandon seemed to be taking over. It started with a burning sensation low in her belly and was spreading through her veins, making her heart beat faster and faster, urging her to get on top of him...

  “They’ll be here in the morning.” His voice sounded strangled, and she could feel the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch as she straddled him.

  “What if they’re not?” she whispered, moving to make the contact even more erotic. She knew what he wanted, and she was willing to give it to him. Why was he so reluctant? It wouldn’t be their first time...

  “They will be,” he insisted.

  “This could be our last night on earth.”

  She thought he understood her point when his hands slid lower, curved possessively around her buttocks. But then he said, “I can’t pretend to be Mark again. If I make love to you, it’ll be because you want me, not him.”

  So that was the problem.

  Suddenly, all the desire that’d been pounding through her drained away. Not because she expected Maxim to be someone he wasn’t. She hadn’t been thinking about Mark. She’d been eagerly exploring a body that was nothing like her late husband’s. She’d forgotten all about him.

  But that was exactly what was bothering her. She couldn’t believe it was possible to forget him so easily, especially with his worst enemy.

  Sliding off Maxim, she turned away, trying to figure out how she could be so disloyal to the one man she’d promised to love forever.

  Nine

  He’d done the right thing, Maxim told himself. Their lovemaking would have no meaning if she was merely pretending again, and he wanted her too badly for a meaningless encounter. But that didn’t stop the disappointment that rolled through him when she moved off him.

  It’s better this way. Why, he couldn’t say from one second to the next, not with her rear pressed into his lap, which seemed to interfere with his thinking. But he tried to believe he’d made the ethical choice. The night would pass. They’d get home. And then he’d be glad he exercised some restraint.

  Meanwhile the minutes dragged by like hours and he couldn’t relax, couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying those few moments after she’d asked him to hold her. She’d been so eager to touch him, so eager for him to touch her. She’d even climbed on top of him! Why had he forced her to reconsider?

  Because he was trying to be fair. Because he’d wanted her to offer herself without any coaxing...

  Closing his eyes, he struggled to shut out the appealing scent of her hair, but it filled his nostrils every time he drew a breath. Had she gone to sleep? He was pretty sure she had. She hadn’t moved in a long time, ever since she’d turned her back to him.

  Confident that she wouldn’t know the difference, he allowed himself to curve more fully around her. He wanted to touch her breast but didn’t go that far. He merely kissed her bare shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. For being unable to accept less than everything she had to give? For knowing that the man she loved with such devotion was a liar? For his outspoken criticism of Mark, which had put her on that plane in the first place?

  Maybe he was apologizing for it all.

  * * *

  Pale tendrils of light threaded their way through the windows of the Cessna’s carcass. It was morning. It had been for some time, but Adelaide remained still. She didn’t want to wake Maxim. She preferred to luxuriate in the secu
re feeling of his arm anchoring her to him and the memory of him kissing her shoulder last night.

  I’m sorry. Why had he felt the need to apologize? He hadn’t done anything more to her than she’d done to him. They’d both been slinging insults over the past several months. Besides, the race didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  So what had motivated those softly uttered words? They were so...uncharacteristic of him. He was tough, demanding, uncaring, ambitious—wasn’t he?

  Definitely. But if that was all he was, why would he care whether or not she pretended he was someone else? Was it pride?

  She’d chosen to think so, until his apology had made her reevaluate. She hadn’t been able to categorize it under any of the bad qualities she’d assigned to him. She was convinced he wouldn’t have said what he had if he’d realized she was awake.

  So who was Maxim Donahue? Was he really as bad as she believed him to be?

  Moving carefully, she maneuvered herself to face him. He didn’t wake; he just stirred, then drew her against him as if they were regular and familiar lovers.

  She laid her ear on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, praying that the steady rhythm would soon be drowned out by the rotary blades of a rescue copter. But she was afraid rescuers wouldn’t be able to spot them. Judging by the obscure quality of the light, the latest snowfall had nearly buried the plane. Was the emergency transmitter working? Was the storm over?

  It was crucial that they get up and do everything possible to make their position more visible. But if rescuers arrived today, these might be the last few minutes she’d ever spend in such intimacy with Maxim Donahue.

  She didn’t want to trade them away too soon...

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Apparently, her movement had awakened him, after all.

  She tilted her head back to see his face. The shadow on his cheeks had darkened with another day’s beard, making him look less like the man she’d spent the past months disliking and more like the man she was coming to know in a whole new way. “We made it through another night,” she said.

  “I told you we would. How’s your leg?”

  It’d been sore since she injured it, but preparing the wrecked plane as a shelter hadn’t required much effort from her. Although she was fine for now, she was pretty sure her injury would complain more loudly when they got out and starting digging. “I’ll live. Well, maybe,” she added with a laugh. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I’ve had more restful nights. You ready to get up?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she held his face between her hands and stared into his eyes as she ran a thumb over his lips. “Did you mean it?” she breathed.

  A certain wariness entered his expression. “Mean what?”

  “That I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

  He said nothing.

  “Or was that part of the act?”

  He looked away. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters.”

  When his gaze returned to hers, she no longer needed verbal confirmation. She could see it in his eyes. The always-in-control, forever-aloof Maxim Donahue had lifted the mask he normally wore to let her see the passion that simmered behind his cool exterior. And that sent an intoxicating flood of warmth and desire flowing through her.

  Moving slowly, so he could stop her if he wanted, she pressed her lips to his.

  They were warm and dry at first, but then they parted and his tongue met hers.

  Someone moaned. She was almost positive it was her. But he moaned, too, the moment his hands found her breasts. He pulled off her bra so he could caress her, and she closed her eyes as his mouth left hers to trail small kisses down her throat.

  * * *

  Maxim couldn’t hear for the pounding of his heart. Until the crash, he hadn’t been with a woman since Chloe—and their lovemaking had lost its luster years before she was diagnosed. He felt younger than he’d felt in a very long time, more excited than he could ever remember. Somehow, nothing seemed to matter except being with Adelaide.

  “You feel...amazing,” he murmured.

  She was breathing too hard to answer; the rapid rise and fall of her chest told him that. But she wasn’t unresponsive. Her hands clutched his hair, guiding his mouth to her breast, and he groaned again when he realized she tasted as good as she felt.

  He shoved her panties to her knees so he could eventually move lower. But he wasn’t quite ready for that. Lightly pinning her down, he explored more leisurely what he’d rushed through the night before.

  “What is it you want?” he whispered when she began to writhe against him, gasping. “Tell me, Adelaide, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “You know...what I want.”

  He was hoping to hear his name. “Tell me, or I’ll stop.” He held his hand still, as if he’d make good on the threat, and she took his mouth in a fierce kiss.

  “I want you, okay? I want you,” she said against his lips.

  “Now?” he teased.

  She gulped for breath. “Now!”

  Somehow, in the tightness of that sleeping bag, he managed to get rid of his boxers. He had no idea when or where they went. The same was true of her panties. Then he and Adelaide were touching and tasting each other in a frenzy like he’d never experienced.

  The next few minutes didn’t last as long as he would’ve liked. They were too desperate for each other. But never in his life had he enjoyed five minutes more.

  Adelaide didn’t say what he’d been longing to hear, not even when he had her trembling on the brink of climax—but it wasn’t much later that they heard the helicopter.

  * * *

  Adelaide sat in the backseat of the chopper across from Maxim. She had a blanket wrapped around her and was staring out the window at the swirling snow. The pilot and his partner had said they’d found them just when they were about to turn back. Apparently, the ELT had gone off but had stopped working after only a few minutes, and the severity of the storm system hadn’t allowed them to search more than three hours yesterday, two this morning. If the Cessna hadn’t fallen into such a wide crevice, the helicopter wouldn’t have had room to land or time to wait for them to climb down into the clearing. The rescuers hadn’t even been able to recover Cox. It was too risky to go after him until the current storm had passed.

  That news hadn’t made Adelaide happy. She’d argued that they should take Cox to his family right now. But once it started to snow, she seemed to realize the helicopter pilot was right and let the subject go. The truth was, they were damn lucky—lucky to be alive, lucky to have gotten out when they did, lucky to be home in time for Christmas.

  Maxim hoped his girls hadn’t assumed the worst. He hated the thought of what they must have suffered, believing he was dead. They’d already lost their mother.

  The wind tossed the helicopter like a cheap toy. Feeling airsick, Maxim glanced over to see how Adelaide was coping with the bumpy flight and noticed how tightly she clasped her hands in her lap. She didn’t speak, didn’t complain, but she was clearly nervous. After what they’d been through, he didn’t blame her. He was anxious, too.

  Briefly, he considered trying to comfort her by squeezing her arm but refrained. She wouldn’t even look at him. Now that they’d been rescued, neither of them knew what to think of the time they’d spent together—or the physical intimacy between them. The fact that they hadn’t used birth control seemed far more important now than it had before, however. Was Adelaide carrying his baby? Was she worried that she might be? What would they do if she was?

  Closing his eyes to shut out the blinding white of the snow, which made him dizzy, he told himself there was no use worrying until he knew for sure, and tried to put it out of his mind.

  “We’ll be down in ten minutes,” the pilot announced, s
peaking through the earphones he’d given each of them.

  “Sounds good to me,” Maxim responded and the guy in the passenger seat sent him a thumbs-up.

  Adelaide didn’t comment. But she thanked the pilot once they landed. She shook Maxim’s hand and politely thanked him, too—as if they were still professional acquaintances. Then a paramedic helped her across the tarmac to an ambulance.

  There was a second ambulance waiting for Maxim. Although he would’ve preferred to ride along with Adelaide, it made sense for him to have his own transportation. As opponents, they shouldn’t share an ambulance or anything else.

  They should never have been on that plane together.

  But, except for what had happened to the pilot, Maxim couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

  Ten

  Harvey Sillinger slapped a file folder on Maxim’s desk. “Now you’ve got to do it,” he said, his eyes burning with exhilaration.

  Maxim scowled at the intrusion. This was his first day back at work since the crash. He wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with his campaign manager’s intense personality. Christmas was in three days—his daughters would be arriving tomorrow. He’d wanted to spend a few quiet hours at campaign headquarters clearing off his desk before the new year. He’d thought he’d be able to do that when he walked in at eight and found Harvey so absorbed in a telephone conversation that he barely grunted hello. They’d already spoken several times since the rescue, had nothing pressing to discuss, and Harvey was the only one in the office. Maxim’s other employees and volunteers were off for the holidays.

  It should’ve been a low-key, catch-up morning, but nothing about his campaign manager was ever low-key. A longtime political veteran, Harvey lived to one-up his opponents. That was initially why Maxim had hired him. He’d wanted a heavy hitter and had planned to do all he could to retain his senate seat. Maybe he’d even wanted to prove something to Adelaide. But he was learning that Harvey had no sense of when he’d gone too far.