Scarlet Fever

SCARLET FEVER

“Shanna,” he whispered, “you don’t know what you’re asking.” “Yes I do, Stephan. But I’ll ask you in plain, pretty words. Make love to me. Here, now. Just you and me. I want you to hold me. I want to feel your body inside me. I want this.” She slid her hand down his stomach until she came to the hard bulge in his groin. She squeezed lightly. Stephan uttered a ragged breath. “Or, if you want, I’ll use those crude, vulgar terms you’re used to reading. Alright then, fuck me. Let me suck on your cock. I want your hard dick in my—” He silenced her with a hard kiss. “I get it. And I much prefer your description. And I don’t believe I could say no to you now for all the Scotch in…Scotland.” There was no hesitation in the hands that slid under her sweater and breached the lacy barrier of her bra. She heard the tell-tale snap of the front clasp as his fingers expertly brushed aside the material to reveal her skin. She felt her breasts swell under his touch. “Ohmigod,” he breathed. “They’re so soft. Softer than I imagined they would be.” “You imagined my breasts?” She was both surprised and flattered. “Hell, yes! Why do you think you could turn my statements into knots so easily? I was sitting there fantasizing about your tits in court. I sat there half the time with a raging hard-on,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not.”

ALSO BY CHEVON GAEL The Last Rising Of Lazarus Moonlight Serenade Weathering Storm

SCARLET FEVER BY CHEVON GAEL

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

SCARLET F EVER AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Chevon Gael ISBN 1-59279-475-0 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To all the guys and gals in VIPPS, also Jeff & Cathy P and, of course, The Bear.

SCARLET FEVER

CHAPTER 1

Shanna Evans’ stiletto heel marks were all over R.C.M.P. Constable Stephan LeClair’s back. Figuratively. Lawyers and cops made strange bedfellows and, like dogs and cats, were a different species, at least in Stephan’s opinion. And Shanna was a cat with teeth bared and big, sharp claws. “You arrested my client with no probable cause,” he mimicked as he drove out of Fredericton after a very long day in court. Probable cause her ass. He loosened his tie and rolled down the window to let the cool autumn air fill the marked four-by-four. The SUV…another thing that had gone completely wrong. Before court, Stephan had driven the SUV to the dealer for a quick oil change, but had discovered something small and expensive had to be replaced. Since he’d signed out the car, he was responsible. If he had any luck at all today, he’d be able to get it back to the post garage and have the mechanics fix the problem before his 1

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next shift. Once out on the back roads, he felt free to floor the accelerator and take out his frustrations by cranking up the radio. But even the ribbon of empty road and the massive expanse of New Brunswick forest wearing their myriad of cascading fall colors couldn’t wipe out the face that continued to intrude on his concentration. A cat face, angular, with almond-shaped green eyes that flashed as she interrogated him on the stand. Long, lustrous brunette hair that swirled behind her like a shadow every time she turned to face the judge. Just the way a feline flicked its tail at you, dismissively, as if you didn’t matter. And her body…swaying casually as if she were unaware of the underlying sensuality she created with every click, click from the heels of her black leather shoes on the polished tile floor. Shanna, with her teeth bared—straight, white and just as deadly— behind full lips painted a neutral shade. But most of all, it was that voice. Purring, trilling, pleading, and pouting on behalf of her innocent little angel, who sat at the defendant’s table, fidgeting in imported leather shoes and an expensive dark wool suit. Shanna, accusing Stephan as she pointed her perfectly manicured nails at him while the other hand tapped on a black and white photo of her client. “Unnecessary roughness bordering on police brutality. Look at this photo, your honor. This boy endured a brutal beating at the hands of Constable LeClair…” That boy was nineteen, drunk, and had beaten up on his girlfriend. Then he'd boasted, “Do you know who my father is, Mountie?” Stephan knew exactly who his father was. He’d arrested the kid once before—as a juvenile, and his father had hired some high-priced child psychologist to earn the kid’s freedom back then, too. Only this time, junior had resisted arrest, prompting a high-speed chase, before he was cornered. Once out of the car, the little bastard led Stephan on a foot chase through some uneven brush, down into a shallow river and 2

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eventually into an empty lumber camp. Then the little angel had grabbed a shovel and took a few swings at Stephan. Stephan had decided enough was enough and fired a warning shot. Oh, the darling dropped his shovel all right. But he decided to fight. After reholstering his sidearm, Stephan approached the punk, who tried to take a few swings at him. Stephan only needed one punch to reign in his suspect before cuffing him and half-dragging him back to the cruiser. That was a prime example of “angels on coke.” Never mind that by the end of the day, Stephan was bruised, wet, had torn his pants, and had a mountain of paperwork to finish before he could even think of getting cleaned up. And at the end of it all, sexy Shanna sauntered and swayed her way into copping a misdemeanor and some community service for her misunderstood client. Stephan eyed the aging judge and wondered just how much time he actually spent listening to the Crown’s evidence and how much attention he focused on watching Shanna’s legs in the sheer hose and above-her-knees skirt. Or perhaps he was mesmerized—as he was, Stephan guiltily admitted—by the form fitting sweater over her high, round breasts. Yet there was nothing immodest or improper about the way Shanna dressed. It was all presentation. Like a lovely, artfully decorated cake. Nice to look at but deadly for the waistline. Lucky for him he was able to sit behind the witness bench with his legs crossed for a considerable amount of time. Otherwise, the entire court would be witness to the constant ebb and flow of blood to his cock. He maintained a professional decorum and concentrated on his answers. Eventually, the throbbing ceased. Probably due to Shanna ripping his probable cause to shreds and sucking up to the judge on behalf of her poor, disenfranchised client. But what really irked him the most was the ribbing he’d have to 3

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take back at the detachment. That Stephan LeClair was yet another notch on sexy Shanna’s docket. *

*

*

Shanna drove back to her office, pleased that her last case had gone so well and relieved that she’d have no paperwork to take with her on vacation. Usually when she won a case she felt pleased, satisfied. She’d lived up to her reputation. She’d done what she’d promised the client she’d do. And in this case, it was the son of one of the Province’s most wealthy lumber barons. Gaetane Richmond had paid well for his son’s freedom—with a bonus, an all expenses paid week at Richmond’s private lodge. A perk usually reserved for the rich and famous. Still, getting young Jean-Francoise off the hook was hardly selfsatisfying. Shanna knew he was guilty of striking Constable LeClair. At least the kid had been honest with her about that. But it was knowing Jean-Francoise’s girlfriend had dropped her earlier charges that didn’t sit well with Shanna. By nature she abhorred men who abused women. By oath she was duty-bound to defend them if she took the case, which she rarely did. In this case, it was only after she’d deposited the retainer and had the case prepared to go to court that she discovered the truth behind the girlfriend dropping the charges. Like everything else he couldn’t get by asking, Gaetane had quietly bought off the girl. No amount of intervention could get her to change her story that the altercation had been nothing more than a misunderstanding or that her injuries were due to an accident. Once back at her apartment, Shanna shed her court clothes and showered. She didn’t just feel tired—she felt dirty, and not just from the natural course of the day. She soaped her hair twice and scrubbed herself all over with floral-scented shower gel. When she was done, she dried off and wrapped her hair in a towel. She wiped the steam covering the bathroom mirror and looked at herself. 4

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“Just another day at the office,” she lectured. It was amazing what you could do to justify a good night’s sleep. She knew very well that Jean-Francoise Richmond would probably go out tonight and violate the conditions of his release by getting drunk and probably getting high. She wondered if Gaetane Richmond could sleep at all. Yet for all her pondering on the state of her conscience and the fate of her clients, there was one thing she couldn’t get off her mind. From the first time he walked into the courtroom, Shanna wondered if Constable Stephan LeClair slept alone. Stephan LeClair. She’d made discreet enquiries. Not married, not involved. Liked to fish, camp, canoe. A real outdoorsy type. Had spent two years in the army. An expert marksman. Played pool like a shark and Texas Hold ’em with cold, straight eyes. Dark eyes. Eyes that kept secrets and an unnerving calm behind a dead-pan, court-serious face. She’d bet her all-expenses-paid week that he was a walking testosterone dispenser when he put on that red serge and those high brown boots. Boots she wouldn’t mind having parked at the end of her bed. If she ever got the chance. Which was highly doubtful in view of the butt-kicking she’d given his ego. His last glance at her should have frozen her solid. Her name was probably mud with him now. Too bad. He was such a nice package—with a nice package! On the other hand, the last thing she needed was a case of “scarlet fever.” She turned her attention to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Too tired to eat, she made a cup of tea and curled up on the sofa. She grabbed the remote control and stabbed the on button for her CD player. She didn’t feel like the bump-and-grind rhythm of The Pussycat Dolls nor was she in the mood for the smooth-crooning Michael Bublé. She needed soothing instrumental; no words to get in the way of emptying her mind. She punched in a selection of assorted classical music and sipped her tea, letting the naturally calming herbs do their 5

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job. She leaned back on the sofa pillows and grabbed a steamy novel from where she’d abandoned it on the floor the night before. Her eyes felt heavy and the words began to slur on the pages. *

*

*

Dylan’s hands began to caress Victoria’s breasts… Soon she was under his spell as he began to undress her. There was little resistance from her. “Oh, Stephan, your hands are like magic. I feel like I’m under some kind of spell.” Shanna shook her long hair over her shoulders. Stephan brushed aside the brown curtain of tresses and kissed the delicate nape of her neck. Shanna shuddered and gasped at the sudden surprise of her body responding to his touch. Her nipples greeted his ministrations by pouting into firm points. Her breasts swelled into his rough, waiting palms. “Beautiful…tempting,” he whispered. “Food for a starving man, Shanna.” Stephan began to feast upon her breasts, kissing, licking, suckling the taut nipples he himself had created. Shanna arched her back and groaned. She grabbed his dark head and pressed it closer into her breasts. She didn’t object when he climbed between her legs and nudged his massive erection against her virgin nest. She opened her legs farther, a silent greeting, a primitive urging. “Oh, Stephan…take me, my love. Take me—now! Quickly…before I have to answer the phone….” *

*

*

Shanna started and shook herself. Her cell phone trilled from somewhere on the coffee table in front of her. She must have fallen asleep. The paperback lay abandoned once again on the floor. Shanna reached for the phone. 6

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“Hello,” she mumbled, her voice still muffled with sleep. Nothing. “Hello?” “You’re so hot, councilor. I’d give anything to fuck you…and I will!” Click. Shanna stared at the phone, the call-end sign flashing benignly at her. What the hell was that? Shanna shook herself. She was almost ready to believe that she’d dreamed the entire incident except for two things. One, this was the number she gave only to clients. And two, he’d called her councilor, which led her to believe it was not a wrong number. She unwrapped the sagging towel from her head and shook her hair. She ran her fingers through it, trying to smooth out the tangles. The voice. Slightly accented—but then most people in New Brunswick spoke with some kind of Maritime or Acadian French accent. A man—young but muffled. She shrugged. She really was too tired to dwell on it. If it happened again, she’d report it. Shanna turned off the light and headed toward her bedroom. She had to pass the front door of her apartment. Something on the floor caught her attention. A folded piece of white paper. More junk mail to add to her recycle box, no doubt. What was it this time? Carpets cleaned, make a zillion dollars from home, another new pizza restaurant she could live without? She opened the paper. What she read stunned her to the core. Her eyes were frozen to the cold, black print. I want you, baby. No matter what it takes. I’ll have you. AND I ALWAYS GET WHAT I WANT. 7

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She shuddered and her gaze flashed to the locks. All in place. Baseball bat stood sentry in the corner. Keeping an eye on the door but grabbing the bat, she slowly backed into the kitchen, found the phone on the wall, and called 9-1-1.

8

SCARLET FEVER

CHAPTER 2

“This is a frigging joke, right?” Stephan sat in his sergeant’s office in the Westfield detachment. He’d spent the day riding out the teasing from his fellow constables, all of whom greeted him to a chorus of “Her Boots Were Made For Walkin’.” He rode it out and gave them the finger, then lost several rounds of rock-paper-scissors for coffee. So, naturally, when the sergeant called him into the office, Stephan’s logical reaction to his new assignment was to laugh. Only the joke was on him. “I’m afraid not, Stephan. We got a request from the Fredericton city police to investigate this as a credible threat. They’re handling the house and are tracing the call record on her cell phone, but it’s going to take a few days.” “In the meantime I have to baby-sit that bi…er, woman.” “I’m afraid so. I can’t spare anyone else. The provincial moose hunt 9

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starts tomorrow and all the rest of my available staff will be tied up with policing gung-ho hunters. You know what kind of trouble that can be.” Stephan nodded. He’d drawn short straws in the past for policing the hunt. Three days a year the province allowed an open hunt. And for those three days, common, ordinary men shook off the pretense of civility to don Rambo gear, get juiced on booze, and shoot anything that moved. There was nothing more dangerous than a drunk with a gun. Of course not all hunters were like that, but it gave the serious participants a bad name. And if it were up to him to choose between a drunk with a shotgun and a hard-ass lawyer with brown hair down to there and legs up to— wherever her legs went—that came complete with an overzealous secret admirer, he’d rather tie antlers to his head and hide out in the woods for the next three days. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the choice. “I’m sorry to saddle her on you, Steph, given your, er, recent encounter. I’ve heard she can give a guy a real headache.” And a raging hard-on. Stephan shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.” The sergeant smiled. “Glad to hear she didn’t rattle you. It’ll make the next week much easier. Think of it as just another assignment.” Just another assignment. It was bad enough having to bodyguard Shanna Evans, but now she was dragging him on vacation with her. Stephan read her itinerary and perked up. A week at a private lodge in the interior. A little salmon fishing. Some quiet late night dinners. A couple of hours in a canoe each day. Just like his old Bear Scouts days. Things were looking up already. Although he hardly pictured prissy, citified Councilor Evans trading in her designer shoes and sheer hose for rubber hip waders and hunkering down to fillet a salmon. But stranger things had happened. Stephan signed out a car and some field gear before dropping into 10

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his apartment and packing the essentials. He was glad for the informal dress—casual, rugged but presentable. He wasn’t out to impress, especially not Shanna. He’d probably spend a good deal of time gutting fish while she stood by with her eyes closed and uttering high-pitched squeals. He remembered to grab his formal red serge to drop off at the tailors. Too many nights in the gym bulking up his biceps resulted in a too-tight uniform. He arrived at Shanna’s apartment complex to find her waiting for him outside on the sidewalk with enough gear to warrant a month in the outback. First things first, he hustled her into the passenger side of the car without so much as a hello. He could afford to lecture her later. “You know we’re only going for a week.” He motioned to the pile of bags. He didn’t wait for her to answer. He closed the door, punched in a code to lock it from the outside and began to load the bags in the trunk. All while listening to the muffled protests of Shanna as she jiggled the handle and shouted a tirade of protests. With the trunk lid up, he afforded himself an outward chuckle, probably the only time he’d be able to get the better of her for the next week. When he finished, he arranged his face into a stern mask of professionalism and got into the car. “You boorish, inconsiderate—” Stephan held up his right hand. “Stop right there, councilor. And before you continue, just what the hell were you doing standing out on the sidewalk like a sitting duck, waiting for someone to come along and take a shot at your or abduct you? Does the phrase ‘what were you thinking’ mean anything to you? If I’m going to spend my time guarding you, the least you can do is cooperate in your own safety. Otherwise, I can cuff you to me for the next seven days and we do everything together. And I do mean everything. Even when I’m taking 11

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a leak. Are we clear?” “Just a goddamned—” Stephan reached into his belt and dangled a set of hand-cuffs in front of her. “Are we clear?” His battered ego righted itself when he saw her shocked expression replace anger. The blue eyes that seconds ago had been mutinous slits were now wide and focused on the cuffs. Her round, little mouth pursed itself into a pout. “Good,” he murmured and slid the cuffs back into the belt pouch. “Now, where to?” “The municipal airport,” she muttered and turned to give him a view of the back of her head. Stephan took the opportunity to access his now-subdued passenger. Her form-fitting khaki breeches molded to her round buttocks. The soft leather covering her legs felt like butter in his hands. The matching wool sweater showed off her high breasts to perfection. Her knee-high boots were shiny and looked like they’d never been worn. At least she was dressed for the unpredictable weather. Though the days were sunny and cool, the night temperature could still drop suddenly. Coupled with the shifting Atlantic winds, some areas of the province might very well wake up to an unwelcome harbinger of winter. She said nothing to him during the drive to the airport, which suited Stephan just fine. He’d had enough of her in court to last him quite a while. Once through the gate, however, he had no choice but to talk to her. “Which hanger?” “Richmond’s. We’re taking a private flight.” Stephan glanced at her. He hated to question her, but he had no choice. He’d been on enough small planes and jets to be able to gauge the weather and the wind had been steadily on the rise all morning. The 12

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trick was to diplomatically bring up the point with his passenger and to avoid any further tantrums. “You know, Ms. Evans, I could drive you to Blackville. There are roads into the lodge.” She finally turned and looked at him. Gone was the court-wise bitchiness he was used to seeing. Her earlier anger seemed to have spent itself. “I know,” she said finally. “I rarely get the chance to fly and I thought it would be fun. Besides, I haven’t had a vacation since…I can’t remember when, and the flight only takes a half-hour versus the three-hour drive from Fredericton. More time to relax.” “Makes sense.” Polite conversation. No antagonism. Strictly professional. Stephan stopped the car outside the hanger. He’d radio for a pick-up once they were wheels-up and off the ground. He unlocked the doors. “Uh, Ms. Evans—” “Shanna. You can call me Shanna. We’re not in court anymore, Constable.” “All right—Shanna—would you mind remaining in the vehicle until your luggage is stowed and the plane is ready? Also, I want to check the flight plan and see what else might be in our airspace.” She gave a slight nod. “You’re very thorough.” “It’s my job. Until I’m contacted and instructed otherwise, you’re my responsibility. If there’s someone out there who means you harm, then I’ll do all I can to keep you safe. So, if you’ll just stay put for a few minutes while I check on things, I’d appreciate it. And don’t worry about the car. It’s usually reserved for VIP’s so it’s bullet-proof.” “I take it you don’t want me wandering around?” She crossed her legs so that the leather of her boots rubbed together and squeaked. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and turned in the seat to face him. Was she getting ready for another attack? Stephan wasn’t about to give 13

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her the chance. “Shanna, look. You and I are going to be together for the next week. I think we should establish some ground rules.” “You mean you’ll dictate the rules you’ve already made up and I agree to abide by them.” He should have known she’d jump at the bait. “It’s not my life that’s been threatened, but it’s my job to protect you. Now, we can do this one of two ways. First, you can fight me at every opportunity and after, oh, about, five minutes of putting up with that kind of shit, I can lock you in a room and make my job very easy. But then you’d have a rotten vacation and you’d hate my guts. The second is, you do exactly what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and I can fade into the woodwork and make myself invisible and you can enjoy your vacation and you won’t even know I’m there. It’s your choice.” She raised darkly arched eyebrows at him. “That’s a choice?” “That’s the choice.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. It was a move meant to intimidate. Instead, she licked her lips and let out a deep sigh, which did nothing except accent the angle of her breasts. “Then I guess I choose the easy way. Into the woodwork, huh?” “Just like a fly,” he said softly. The slight tip of her head told him she understood his terms. He would relax. For now. He exited the car and left Shanna alone with her thoughts. Her very confusing thoughts. She’d been ready to deck him when he hustled her none-to-gently into the car. Then he threatened to cuff her if she resisted. It wasn’t the kind of behavior she was used to. But, come to think of it, it was exactly the kind of behavior she expected. Constable LeClair was as cool as a cucumber. She thought he was only that way in court. Apparently he didn’t like her—period. So much for dressing to impress. And speaking of dressing, he wore casual clothes today instead of 14

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the blue working uniform or formal suit she was used to seeing at court. Of course, she couldn’t expect him to trek after her in the woods in a suit. And his uniform would look out of place at the lodge—might even scare away any other guests between his military gait, curt dialogue barking out orders, and dour expression. Maybe she’d do well to avoid him—at least on a personal basis. Trouble was, the more walls he put up, the more she wanted to climb. She smiled to herself. She was dressed for climbing and had never been afraid of heights. There was a part of her that wanted to scale the impregnable wall he’d erected between them, to conquer the warrior side of Stephan LeClair One of the reasons she was a successful lawyer was that she was very good at winning arguments and playing games with words. She’d play by his rules, for now. Once they were alone at the lodge however, she’d change the rules. Then they’d play the game her way. She saw Stephan walking back toward the car. She watched the way he moved. His confident stride, one arm casually glancing off the gun side of his right hip. He was coiled tight, ready to strike. His eyes constantly moving from side to side, assessing every angle, checking the landscape. Noticing everything—except her. Yes, she’d make sure she won before the week was out. The trouble was, deep down inside she wasn’t sure she could handle the prize.

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CHAPTER 3

Stephan glanced over his shoulder at Shanna, who was in the back left seat of the four-seater Piper aircraft. She was looking pretty green right about now. He fought the urge to smirk. His first instincts had been right. The wind was blowing in one of heck of a nor'easter. The temperature had dropped dramatically and the small plane was not only bouncing between wind shears like a ping-pong ball, it was damn cold. Shanna shrugged his red wool serge closer around her neck. He’d forgotten to take it to the tailors this morning and by the time he realized it was still in the back seat of the car, it was too late to call someone to pick it up. He simply packed it in the back, along with the other bags. He was glad now that he’d brought it along. Not only was it nice and warm, Shanna looked good in red. “What are you smiling at?” she snapped. Stephan composed his face once more. He hadn’t meant to let his emotions slip out. “I was just thinking what a cute Mountie you’d have 16

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made, if you’d chosen to go into our side of the law.” She looked down at her “blanket,” then back at him. “Too short. I checked the requirements when I first looked into law. I really did think about becoming a cop. Besides, I was extremely short-sighted and I’d never have passed the admissions physical, even if I’d miraculously grown another six inches.” Stephan cleared his throat and looked out the window into the darkening clouds. “Yep, size matters.” He turned and caught the grin of the pilot. Stephan grinned back. From the back seat he heard her mutter, “Men!” in that disparaging tone he was now all too familiar with. She huddled under his serge and leaned her head against a balled-up sweater next to the window. “Wake me when we land.” Then she closed her eyes. End of conversation. Stephan took the hint. It was better if they didn’t talk, although he did wonder why he’d never seen her wear glasses. Maybe she wore contacts. Or had her eyes fixed with laser correction surgery. Whatever the reason, he decided she’d look good with or without the specs. He gave her semi-relaxed form a thoughtful glance. With her eyes closed she looked quite harmless—and gorgeous. And for a moment he wondered what she would look like early in the morning after a night of bouncing around in bed—his bed. A sudden jolt jarred him out of his fantasy. He noticed the pilot fighting with the controls, trying to keep the small plane out of the fierce hands of the unpredictable wind. The clouds had crowded in around them, black and forbidding. “Looks like we’re going to get hit with the first squall of the season,” said the pilot. “Better hang on. Things could get rough. Might have to ditch her if she ices up.” Steph noted the man’s grim expression. He checked his seatbelt and turned to see if Shanna had hers buckled. He almost wished he hadn’t. She was wide awake, her eyes mirroring the fear in her white face. He 17

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gave her a reassuring smile. “You strapped in?” She nodded. Steph almost wished he could reach around and hold the white hands that gripped the edge of his serge. “Just hang on, Shanna. We’ll be through this soon.” For the first time since he’d known her, she looked at him with something other than professional coldness or personal animosity. She was terrified and she looked to him for reassurance, for trust. “Don’t worry,” he repeated. Easier said than believed. The tiny plane suddenly shuddered as they entered the squall line. He lifted right out of his seat as they began a free fall. The pilot struggled uselessly against the storm battering the small plane. He gave Steph a quick glance before reaching for the radio. “I have to set down somewhere. This ice and wind are going to tear us apart. I’m calling in a mayday. Hang on.” Steph heard Shanna give a strangled cry. She was trying not to add to the rising panic. “Ball up my serge and put it across your stomach like a pillow. Put your head as close to your knees as possible, Shanna.” Steph reached around and grabbed his own knapsack behind his seat and did the same. A little rough, but anything to cushion the landing, although he knew what their chances where against the unforgiving New Brunswick forest with its millions of square miles of timber. They’d be cut to shreds and not found for weeks! Or, they’d land in one of the thousands of small, deep lakes and never be found at all. Stephan leaned forward and covered his head. They were descending—fast. He heard tree branches beat and scrape against the side of the plane, felt the bumping and tearing as the timber sheared off the landing gear. 18

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Shanna's screams were muffled in the red wool. His own catechisms formed as he made an attempt to cross himself. He heard the vulgarities spewing from the unfortunate pilot. Then they hit something…hard. He heard the sound of aluminum peeling away. Cold air poured in. Glass shattered and showered over his head. Shanna screamed. The ominous sound of bones breaking filled his ears. He felt blood spatter on his hands, but was powerless to stop it. The final seconds of the dying plane played out in a terrifying, slow montage as it bounced against the hard ground. The roof was ripped off as if a can opener had gone over it. One last crash jolted Stephan’s back, and his head bounced mercilessly against the head rest as his seat ripped off its base. Then he felt nothing.

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CHAPTER 4

“Recruit LeClair! Front and center!” “Yes, sir, Drill Sergeant, sir.” “Do you see your boots, recruit? Do you think they’re polished?” “Y-yes, sir.” “Speak up!” “Yes, sir!” “No, recruit. They are not polished. I want to see my ugly face in the tips of those boots. Do you see my ugly face in the tips of those boots? Don’t look at me, you sad excuse for puke! Look at your boots. Do you think you’ll ever make it as a Mountie, recruit?” “Yes, sir.” “No, recruit. You won’t. Not with those boots. Now polish them again. And after you finish, you will polish mine. Is that understood?” “…fuck you and the black horse you rode in on…” “What did you say?” 20

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“Yes, sir. I understand.” “I heard you, you little French fuck! Drop and give me one hundred push ups. No one in your squad will eat until you finish.” “…fuck…you…and your ugly…face…” “What?” “I said…” “Stephan. Stephan, wake up. Please, Stephan. Wake up.” Cold. Jarring cold. Cold the likes of which he hadn’t felt since his first winter at Depot in Regina when DS Vance MacKinnon had a hardon for him and made him walk night sentry. He was sure he’d freeze to death then, almost as sure as he was freezing to death now. He opened his eyes and glanced around before he dared to move. The first thing he saw was an angel. She was dressed in a cream suede jacket, sweater, and matching breeches. Only she didn’t have wings; she had a blanket wrapped around her. There was a red smudge on her forehead. He licked his lips. “Shanna.” “Am I really that ugly?” “Huh?” “Ah…got your attention. Are you hurt?” Stephan began to take inventory. His first aid was almost as good as any paramedic, but it wouldn’t help him if he was too injured to help himself, and he had only the basics in his first aid kit. He wiggled his fingers and toes, assessed his back, neck and legs, and decided nothing was broken. But that didn’t mean he might not have suffered some internal injury that could be the death of him within hours. “The pilot?” She shrugged under the blanket. “Gone. I mean, he wasn’t anywhere when I woke up. I think…” She paused and Stephan saw her lips tremble and her forehead wrinkle in fear. “I think he’s out there. Somewhere.” 21

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Steph nodded. “Probably ripped out by the force of the crash. I have to find him.” He moved to get up. Shanna had covered him with the serge to keep him warm. “Are you sure you should move?” He nodded slowly. “I feel okay—right now. Nothing more than a bump on the head from what I can tell.” “Yes.” She uncovered a hand from the blanket and pointed to the side of his head. “It stopped bleeding. It’s not a deep cut from what I could tell, but there was a lot of blood.” He gingerly touched the cut and was relieved it was as superficial as she described. “Head wounds usually are. Nice job. I smell alcohol. What did you use to dress it?” Her gaze fell to her knees. She bit her lip and her hand inched toward her purse. “Promise you won’t laugh…or get mad.” “Shanna, it’s okay. We just survived a plane crash. You were here for me and took care of me when I needed it and you’re probably suffering from shock, and scared shitless. Why would I be mad?” “Um…okay. A maxi-pad.” Steph gave her a tiny smile and grasped her hand. “Good thinking. I’d have done the same thing. Any sterile wadding will do the job. Good girl. Now, help me up and let’s see what we’re left with.” It wasn’t much. Most of the fuselage was gone except for a coneshaped section which had been the back two seats. Probably what had saved Shanna’s life. His own seat was in two pieces and lying over the back seat. He wondered how he himself had managed to come out so well. There wasn’t much in the way of shelter, and although it had stopped snowing, the wind chill could still be deadly. He took inventory. They had two blankets, some clothes, and whatever else Shanna had in her purse. He dug around and was able to locate his one kit bag. His knapsack, which contained only some clothes and shaving gear was God only knew where. 22

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“Empty your purse,” he said at last. “Huh?” He didn’t wait for her. He gently pried it from her grasp, opened the zipper, and dumped the contents on what remained of the floor. Not bad! Some granola bars, cosmetics, gum, hard candies, her over-stuffed wallet, tissues, a paperback, pen, more maxi-pads. And, wonder of wonders, a fifth of Scotch. Well, that explained the alcohol on the cut. “Damn. No matches.” “I don’t smoke.” It was an indignant reply, almost as if he had insulted her. “I was thinking about making a fire. We might have some fuel. The plane didn’t explode on impact. But if we lost it all, then we’ll use the Scotch. I could rig up a shelter. What I really need—” He paused and dug through his own bag. “Ah-ha. Here is it. My GPS. Now, if only I could get a fix on where we are.” “I don’t think we’re far from one of Richmond’s logging camps.” “Why do you say that?” “Because while you were out, I walked around a bit. I thought it was odd that we landed in a clearing, but when I went that way”—she pointed through a section of forest that had indeed been cleared—“I saw what looked like a path so I followed it. About a quarter mile away is a sign in a ditch that says ‘Richmond No. 23.’” Stephan didn’t bother to lecture her about leaving the crash site and getting lost. It didn’t make any difference now. The main thing was that if they were indeed near one of the many interior logging camps, then they would at least have some decent shelter, clean drinking water, maybe even some food. Unless it was only a holding clearing for the logs. Then they were screwed. “Any buildings that you could see?” “No. I didn’t want to get too far away. But there could be.” 23

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There was hope in her voice. Stephan didn’t want to let her down unless he really had to. “All right, Shanna. I want you to stay here and gather up anything you can carry. I’m going to take a look around for any other debris and…the pilot.” He slipped on his serge, glad now for its heavy wool to protect him against the cold. It was still tight, but it didn’t matter. Anything to ward off the chill. He didn’t have to go too far to find the pilot—or rather, what was left of him. From what Stephan could tell on inspection of the body, he probably died instantaneously. Lucky for him. It was a quicker fate than what awaited him and Shanna if their trek toward the logging area didn’t result in any decent shelter. His only other hope lay in the fact that they would be reported overdue at Richmond’s lodge. He had no way of knowing whether or not the mayday signal had been picked up or if the plane’s flight path had been tracked. Small, municipal airports didn’t have extensive radar. In any event, the plane would certainly be overdue. By tomorrow there would be a full-scale search underway. But until then, they had to survive the night. Stephan hurried back to the crash site and found Shanna had donned most of her outerwear and changed into a more acceptable pair of hiking boots. Thank God the woman had a brain in her pretty head. “Did you find him?” “Yes.” He didn’t want to have to explain the obvious since he returned alone. “Oh,” she said softly. “Poor man.” “I made some notations in relation to the crash site so he can be found again. There’s nothing we can do, Shanna, except look after ourselves. Are you ready to go?” She nodded. “Good, now show me where you found the sign.” They traveled for about twenty minutes until they came to the ditch where the signpost lay in pieces. 24

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“We must have hit it when we came down. There’s no telling how far away from the camp we are. The sign might have traveled with the plane.” “But the path looks well worn.” Steph hunkered down and examined the pitted road and crushed undergrowth. “Looks like the kind of damage from a logging truck, but it’s hard to tell right now. There’s been a lot of rain. Hey…this is encouraging.” She knelt down beside him. “What?” He pointed off to the right of the path into the ditch. “Deer tracks. And there, rabbit. With any luck, we’ll eat.” He stopped at her horrified expression. “What? Shanna, we have to eat.” “But…little animals?” “You were going to do some hardcore salmon fishing if I remember. What’s the difference? We’re out in the middle of friggin’ nowhere, honey. Butt plug New Brunswick. We’ve no food, no water, and it might be a few days before help gets to us. Did you think we were going to survive on granola bars and gum?” “Well…no…but… I guess, if you have to. How are you going to catch anything?” “Uh, I’m going to shoot it. I have a gun. It’s right here,” he patted his kit bag. “Oh. I forgot about that.” “Come on.” He helped her to her feet and they continued on. They followed the twisted path for nearly a mile before spotting a genuine gravel perimeter. They broke through a clearing to find themselves blessed with what had only weeks ago been a full service logging camp. Stephan surveyed the area while trying to keep Shanna in check. No telling who might be using the camp now that the loggers had gone for the season. 25

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Only after performing a cursory inspection did he allow Shanna to go exploring. “Check and see if any of the buildings are open. Probably not, but you never know. Try to locate the cook house. There might still be some stock.” As it turned out, none of the buildings were open. A minor difficulty Stephan remedied with a swift kick to the door handle. He quickly located a small bunkhouse where they could spend the night. There was plenty of firewood and kindling around. He checked out the garbage dump and found some almost-empty disposable cigarette lighters. They would do if he couldn’t find anything else. Shanna stepped out from behind one of the buildings. “I think I found the kitchen. And the toilet.” Well, that’s important, he thought. Maybe for her, but it was the last thing on his mind as they were quickly losing daylight. “Anything to eat?” he called. “Can you open the door?” Easily remedied. One good kick was all it took. They were glad to see that the camp wasn’t completely cleared out. From time to time, some of the loggers did return to hunt in the area where they were familiar with working. They knew what animals visited the garbage dump, what trails they followed, what time of the evening they fed. He knew Shanna would be relieved when they found a small supply of canned goods, bottled peaches, and kitchen utensils. He’d seen some late blueberries along the trail, and there was probably a stream or a small river nearby. Most camps were set up near an ample supply of fresh water. They gathered up the food and some firewood and returned to the small bunkhouse. Stephan loaded the wood stove and managed to get the fire going. Soon the interior was warming up. Shanna took the blankets and some of the clothing and made a pallet on the floor. Stephan took his service knife with its dozen or so utility attachments 26

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and opened two cans of pork and beans. Soon they were simmering in an iron pot on top of the stove. Shanna took the pot and set it on the floor, then took a seat on the blanket. “Supper is served. Hope you don’t mind sharing this one spoon.” Stephan removed his shoes and sat down beside her. “I trust your germs. Here, you first.” Shanna looked at the spoon full of hot beans Stephan held out for her. The steam was rising off them and she blew lightly across them. She tasted them with the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t much of a bean eater, but right now it was ambrosia. “Sweet,” she said after tasting them. Stephan tasted them, then nodded. “It’s the molasses. My mother used to put maple syrup in hers.” “Mine, too.” She shared another spoonful with him. Each took turns sipping at the bottle. Now that they were safe, warm, and in no immediate danger of starving, Shanna had a chance to assess her situation. Especially now that she found herself alone with Stephan. She knew very little about him from a personal basis. Oh, she’d researched his career background. Something she usually did for anyone she had to question on the stand. He had an impressive career as a Mountie. Several awards, citations, a few medals. A good cop. A good man. And a handsome one. The glow of the firelight glanced off his dark head, he had deep, thoughtful dark eyes, and a swarthy, rugged complexion—a testament to the time he’d spent outdoors. And all that above a generous mouth. A mouth she’d rarely seen smile. Except when he teased her in the plane about size. Size matters. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to use some of your novel to get the fire started. I’ll buy you another one.” Shanna shifted her study of his face and contemplation of his size to 27

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his skills. “That’s okay. Whatever it takes, whatever you need to keep us alive. I don’t mind. It was only a fluffy romance novel. Something to pass the time at the lodge.” “I couldn’t help reading some of the pages. I had no idea women actually liked to read about…you know. Sex.” Shanna managed not to smirk. “Why not? Men like to read about sex.” He put down the pot of beans and wiped his mouth with a tissue. “Yeah, but the kind of stuff I read is a lot grittier. Your novel is, well, pretty.” “Pretty?” “Okay, not pretty, exactly. But the novels I read are police procedurals, and if there’s a woman she’s usually dead or the love interest. Her—parts—are usually just tits, ass, cunt. The guy pauses long enough to get her in bed, blow his load inside her and then it’s back to the case.” “How…succinct. You’re right. Sex in your books is not very pretty. But I prefer to think of it as sensual.” “Yeah, that’s a good word. Sensual. And romantic. Women are all about romance.” “You say romance as if it’s a dirty word.” “I don’t have a lot of romance in my life. No time for it. Long shifts, long hours, gone for days at a time. A woman wants a stable relationship, someone who can always be there for her. Someone who will keep dates and appointments and commitments. It’s a life that doesn’t suit a lot of women. They like the sex but when it comes right down to it, most of my relationships couldn’t handle me being out all night or the thought that some night I might go out and never come home. Can’t say as I blame them.” So there it was in a nutshell. Stephan’s personal life. Shanna knew the kind of life a cop’s wife was in for. No, it wasn’t easy and it wasn’t 28

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for everyone. But maybe the women in Stephan’s life didn’t stay around long enough to give it a chance. Or maybe Stephan himself didn’t want them around. “I’ll bet you have a girl in every town. And when you put on that dress uniform you’ve got them trailing behind you with their tongues hanging out and their legs open.” She was surprised to hear him laugh. “Yeah, the old ‘scarlet fever’ joke. It’s true for the most part. I’ve had a lot of offers, but you get really tired of one night stands. The girls just want the uniform. It’s hell being a sex object.” He said it with such blasé sarcasm and a twinkle in his eye that Shanna was forced to laugh out loud. “Nothing wrong with your ego, is there, Constable.” “I thought we left the ‘Constable’ behind in the plane.” “Yes, we did. Stephan.” “That’s better. And as far as my ego goes, the only woman who ever bruised it was you.” Shanna stared at him. “Me? What did I do?” “You kicked my ass in court, councilor.” Shanna stretched out on the blanket. “Oh, puh-leeze. Leave the ‘councilor’ back there with the ‘Constable.’ I think we’re past all that. And as far as kicking your ass is concerned, you know as well as I do that it’s only a job. But in hindsight, I really am sorry about your…ass.” Maybe it was the situation, the Scotch going to her head, or the fact that they were bound to spend the night together that made Shanna spill out, “What can I do to make it better? Your ass, I mean.” She was rewarded with a look of pure surprise. Then a smile spread slowly across his mouth. He blinked a number of times, as if to clear his head. “If I answer that question, I could be hauled up on charges of 29

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misconduct.” Shanna shook her head. “Strictly off the record. Just a man and a woman who’ve been through a life-threatening experience, trying to survive the night. Just a woman who’s wondered what it would be like to spend the night with you. Even when I had you up in that witness box, all I could think of was how to get you into my pants. Does that surprise you?” She leaned toward him and placed her hand on the red sleeve of his coat. “It’s not just scarlet fever. It’s Stephan fever.” She began to walk her fingers up his arm. He covered her hand and stopped her. “You’re still my assignment, Shanna. You are until my commanding officer says you aren’t.” “I won’t tell if you don’t,” she insisted. She saw him hesitate, sensed the conflict within him. But the fire heightened his male need for her. She glanced down and saw his pants stretched tight across his groin. Whatever his mind was thinking, his body had already made up its mind.

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CHAPTER 5

She didn’t wait for him. She leaned in and kissed him. Leaned in far enough for her to lose her balance. Suddenly he was on the floor and she was on top of him. His arms came around her and pressed her into his body. “Shanna,” he whispered, “you don’t know what you’re asking.” “Yes I do, Stephan. But I’ll ask you in plain, pretty words. Make love to me. Here, now. Just you and me. I want you to hold me. I want to feel your body inside me. I want this.” She slid her hand down his stomach until she came to the hard bulge in his groin. She squeezed lightly. Stephan uttered a ragged breath. “Or, if you want, I’ll use those crude, vulgar terms you’re used to reading. Alright then, fuck me. Let me suck on your cock. I want your hard dick in my—” He silenced her with a hard kiss. “I get it. And I much prefer your description. And I don’t believe I could say no to you now for all the Scotch in…Scotland.” There was no hesitation in the hands that slid 31

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under her sweater and breached the lacy barrier of her bra. She heard the tell-tale snap of the front clasp as his fingers expertly brushed aside the material to reveal her skin. She felt her breasts swell under his touch. “Ohmigod,” he breathed. “They’re so soft. Softer than I imagined they would be.” “You imagined my breasts?” She was both surprised and flattered. “Hell, yes! Why do you think you could turn my statements into knots so easily? I was sitting there fantasizing about your tits in court. I sat there half the time with a raging hard-on,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not. I want to see them. Taste them.” She let him help her remove her sweater and she lay back on the blankets. Although the air was warm from the fire, her nipples knotted into hard tips. She noticed that Stephan had slid out of his jacket and shirt and was topless as well. She gazed in appreciation of the man silhouetted above her. Contoured muscles across his arms and chest. A chiseled six pack of abs with a light covering of masculine hair. She reached up and ran her palms across his chest. She loved the roughness of the curls slipping between her fingers. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered before lowering his head to her breasts. He rubbed his stubbly cheeks across each of her breasts, causing her nipples to harden even further. He pulled a nipple into his mouth and suckled it noisily. Shanna gasped at the incredible sensations. A blazing tingle shot straight to her pussy. He petted and squeezed each breast in turn as he nipped and nibbled on its mate. He was making love to her breasts. She could only imagine how wonderful the rest of the night would be. Gradually, through the soft moans and hungry suckling, his hands moved down her body to the waistband of her breeches. 32

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“I want to see the rest of you—all of you—lying naked in the firelight. I want to see the shadow of your pussy. I want to plow my nose right into the seam of your lips and lick you senseless.” His words showered over her like a stream of aphrodisiacs. Shanna fumbled with the button and zipper until she finally eased the suede over her hips and down her legs. She shed her panties along with her breeches. She looked at Stephan in wonder as he slipped his hand into the crotch of her panties. “Wet,” he murmured. “Nice and wet, just for me.” He then lightly brushed his fingers through her dark bush, merely grazing the nest of curls. It was enough to send Shanna into a fit of pleasure. She raised her hips for him and he pulled back. “Not yet, my sexy lady. Patience.” “But, I’m—” “Aroused. Yes, so am I.” And to prove his point he unbuckled his belt and let his pants and briefs slide down his hips. Shanna had a direct view of his fully aroused cock. She raised her hand to touch it. Stephan leaned closer to her. She wrapped her fingers around its girth, surprised by the heat. She felt Stephan stiffen and a ragged groan from deep in his throat cut the air. “Mon dieu! C’est fantastique!” “I’ll take your word for it.” She fondled his balls, tightly bundled from his aroused state. She ran her fingers back up his engorged shaft, feeling every rigid contour. She passed her palm over the smooth tip, now slick from his own sexual secretion. Yes, she loved the whole package. He quickly kicked off his pants and snuggled next to her. They both lay naked now, enjoying the scents and feel of each other’s bodies. “If I take you now, I’m afraid it will be too fast for me and over too soon for you.” “We’ve got all night,” she reminded him. 33

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“Yes, we have.” With that, he rolled on top of her and wedged her legs apart. “I just want to feel you next to me.” She felt his hot breath, coming in hurried gasps as he played with her. The mushroom tip of his cock prodded her opening. She could feel her own slick juices spilling over the top. What control he must have! She wanted to plead with him take her. Instead, he hunkered down and snaked his torso between her thighs until his head rested against her mons. He paused for a few moments to catch his breath. Then he nosed through her muff, inhaling her scent. “This is it,” he breathed. “This is what I could smell on you. Every time you walked by me it rained all over me until I thought my dick was going to pop.” She saw him look up at her. “You wanted me, too.” There was no denying it now. Her own body had given her away. “Yes,” she admitted. “Yes, I wanted you. Each time I looked at you, I imagined you right where you are right now. And more.” “More?” “Much more.” His rakish smile gleamed in the darkness. Then he buried his head between her thighs. Shanna held her breath as he gave a tentative lick at the seam of her outer labia. The pleasure was the sweetest she had ever known. He was deliberately taking his time, drawing out the passion. He nosed her lips apart and nibbled on her inner lips, now swollen from his attention. At last his lips found the enraged nub under its fleshy hood. He gently nibbled her clit. Outside the wind howled. Inside, burning wood snapped in the small stove. On the floor, a fire raged. Shanna felt the pressure build. Taking cues from her labored breathing and urgent pleas, he suckled the bud between his lips and lightly tweaked it between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue…until her release let loose with a force that rocked her body. Shanna cried his name into the solitude of their cabin. 34

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She barely had time to recover when Stephan mounted her. He gripped his cock and positioned it between her throbbing pussy lips and surged forward into her still sensitive pussy. He buried his head next to hers, his breath coming in gasps in her ear. “Geez, you’re so tight. You can’t believe how you feel next to me. My cock is going crazy. I want be deeper in you. God, I never want to come out.” She licked his cheek, nibbled his ear, raked her teeth under the curve of his chin. “Harder,” she begged. “Faster.” With that she wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her fingers into the muscled cheeks of his ass. Shanna closed her eyes and gave in to the burning pleasure inside her. Yes, he was big, and her tight channel wasn’t used to his size. But she soon became accustomed to the sweet sting of her muscles as they accommodated him. With every stroke, his bulbous head raked over her G-spot. Still burning from her earlier orgasm, a second one ignited inside her. “Stephan,” she cried. “I’m coming again.” “I know. I can feel it. Oh, God. Your muscles are squeezing my cock. I—oh, Shanna…” He stiffened above her. She felt his cock convulse deep inside her and the warm sensation of his cum flooding her walls. He stayed with her for several moments, until his cock gave up its rigid state. He moved off her and a stream of cum dripped out of her. He covered them with most of the second blanket and snuggled against her. For several moments they lay silent. Stephan fondled her naked breasts. “Any regrets?” “Hmm,” she purred. “Only that we’re not in my bed with my bathroom just steps away.” A chuckle rumbled beside her. “Or my place with the king size bed 35

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and the plaid duvet.” “You decorate in plaid? Now that’s something to regret.” “I’ll let you decide when we get back.” She was silent for a moment. “So you want to do this again.” It was a statement rather than a question. “And again, and again, and again. Only next time, let’s not have such a dramatic first date. Really, you could have gotten me with dinner and a movie.” “And you could have gotten me with a smile, instead of that serious scowl I saw in court.” She tried to imitate him. “Did I really look like that?” “Worse.” He threw back the blanket. “Stay right here. I’m going to refuel the fire. I have a feeling it’s going to get a lot colder tonight.” There didn’t seem to be a prudish bone in his body. He did everything without thinking about putting on a stitch of clothing. Then he joined her once again. Shanna was feeling incredibly drowsy. “How about a nap?” “Sounds good to me. That was a big explosion coming from such a little lady. My dick isn’t used to all this excitement.” “Really? Me either. Not even when I—” She stopped suddenly. There was such a thing as too much information. “Not even when you pleasure yourself? Don’t be bashful, sexy Shanna. Everyone does it.” She gave a loud sigh, still not comfortable with the fact that she admitted to masturbation. “You’re right. About a lot of things. Mostly about taking a nap. But just a short one. I don’t want to sleep the night away.” Stephan held her close and watched until she had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to sleep the night away either, but if they were going to have any chance at getting out tomorrow, he’d need some rest. But 36

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what if they weren’t found tomorrow? Their survival could stretch into several days. He peered into the darkness and smiled. Of all the things he had ever wished for or fantasized about, being marooned somewhere with Shanna Evans had been at the top of the list. Now it was real. He was living out his very own fantasy. He only hoped they could both stay alive long enough for them to enjoy it.

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CHAPTER 6

There was more loving. More sex. More post-snuggling and cute conversation. Stephan dug into his pocket and found his watch. The tiny light showed him it was nearly four in the morning. He snuck out for a pee to find that it had snowed. Not a severe blizzard, but enough to make wind chill a major concern. He ducked back inside and quickly tucked himself in beside Shanna who was sound asleep. Now what? If this ever got out, he could be suspended. It was perfectly acceptable for him to have a relationship with someone like Shanna under normal circumstances, but it was strictly taboo for him to be sleeping with a protectee. He could hope for a lot of things. He could continue to see Shanna in secret for as long as his assignment required him to be with her. He could hope that the Fredericton city police caught her stalker before the week was out. He could hope they wouldn’t be found for a few more days. He shook himself. Having more than one fantasy come true was 38

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asking for too much. He knew the right thing to do was to get them both back to civilization as soon as possible. He put his mind to the task. There was no cell phone service this deep in the woods. He’d tried Shanna’s phone. His was damaged beyond repair when he landed on it. He’d always been good at electronics. There might be a way to rewire the GPS to transmit instead of receive. He knew it could be done with certain models. He hoped the force decided to spend the extra money to give him the upgraded version. He would start an outdoor fire. A controlled, smoking fire using the abandoned barbeque pit which was lined with rocks and sand. There was enough birch bark around, which would burn under any circumstances, even when wet. The cedar boughs would make a good, thick smoke that could be seen from the air. If there was a search. If another squall line moved in, there would be no search. The other alternative was to follow the rugged logging path, which might eventually lead them to the Renous logging road that cut through the middle of the province. But they might have to travel miles to find it. He wasn’t sure Shanna was up to that kind of outdoor endurance. And they’d need the GPS to work if they decided to walk out. He wondered briefly how far off course they’d been when they’d crashed. He’d had a brief look at what was left of the plane’s radio and knew it was useless. He knew from past years’ experience while searching for lost hunters that the best thing to do was to find a line of hydro towers and stay beside them. For one thing, the lines crisscrossed the province, even in the interior. For another, they were in cleared areas so a search plane could see them. A plan semi-formed in his mind, Stephan finally dropped off to sleep. *

*

*

In Shanna’s line of work she invented something called the “Oh39

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Shit Factor.” The OSF was that one thing that always came down at the last minute to screw up a case. A piece of new evidence, some lost paperwork, a surprise witness. In this case, Shanna applied the OSF to birth control. Basically, she had none. Stephan hadn’t used any either. Shanna slapped her tangled hair off her forehead. “Shanna, you are too stupid to live.” “No, you’re not.” The door opened in time for him to hear her outburst. “And if you think so, then why do you think so? It can’t be because you don’t think you look way too sexy wrapped up in that blanket when I know you don’t have a stitch of clothing on.” Shanna tossed her hair back to look at him. Way too handsome, way too hot! And probably, way too fertile. “Stephan, sit down for a minute. I have to talk to you about something.” “Uh-oh. The dreaded words, ‘We have to talk.’” He sighed and sat down beside her. He brought her what looked like some cold, clear water in one of the kitchen pots. “It snowed last night. I melted the snow and boiled the water. I had some purification tablets with my gear so it’s safe to drink. Here.” He handed her the water and she took a few sips. The water soothed her dry throat and she finally managed to ease out the words, “Stephan, I’m not on the pill.” She carefully watched his reaction. “Ah. Well, I’m Catholic.” “Ah. Well, I’m not.” “Really? You’ve got a very good start.” “You don’t seem too worried that we might have…you know…” “Started a little Mountie.” She nodded. He put his arms around her and drew her close. He kissed the top of 40

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her head. “Not to worry, sexy Shanna. We’ll figure something out—if anything happens. I will support any decision you make, or any child we make.” “And you decided this…when? Last night? You must have been busy.” He hugged her. “I was. First we get out of here. Then we figure out what where to go with us. Personally, I’m hoping to spend a lot more time getting to know your bedroom with its close bathroom. And I’m secretly hoping you’ll get a little more up close and personal with my plaid.” Shanna turned and screwed up her face. “Plaid.” She shook her head. “Bachelors. I know you’re a cop, but your taste in decorating sounds criminal.” “Sue me,” he quipped. “I can,” she countered. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Now, get your clothes on. We’re taking a little walk.” Stephan’s little walk turned out to be a geo-cacher’s nightmare. Once more she was forced to empty her purse as she collected birchbark peelings Stephan carved off trees using his survival knife. If he was annoyed when she initially balked, he didn’t show it. He merely took over the task, shoving the peelings inside her purse until she thought it would burst its seams. “But…but that’s a…Chanel. It’s—it’s leather.” “Good. We can boil it for nutrients if we have to. Focus, Shanna. This is not survival for the chic. It’s survival—period. I’m sure Coco would forgive you.” “How do you know about Coco Chanel?” “I have eleven sisters.” “What?” “My mother used to call us ‘the dirty dozen’ after the movie.” 41

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“Was she nuts?” “No, just Catholic.” “Your father should be crucified!” “What for? It was my mother who wanted a boy. She didn’t want to stop until she got one. When she did, she did. I was the last one.” “And she still walks upright?” “That’s nothing.” He laughed. “My Aunt Evelene had nineteen children.” Shanna shuddered. “I may never let you near me again.” He grinned wolfishly at her. It was a reminder that she had initiated their early morning sex play. “Somehow, sexy lady, I don’t think so.” “Oh, yes I can. You just watch me.” “Watching you is what got me into your bed.” Shanna avoided any further suggestions to sex in general. Except that the man working next to her to build their signal fire was a walking erogenous zone, spewing testosterone-infused male pheromones every time he moved. If she were smart, she’d keep her mind open and her legs closed instead of the other way around. “Are you sure this will work?” she asked once the smoke started billowing skyward. Stephan shaded his eyes and looked at the darkening clouds that once again threatened. “As long as the search planes stay below those storm clouds or they don’t drop, they’ll be searching for us. They have to. I haven’t checked in with my detachment. The plane is now officially overdue.” He nodded. “The authorities know we’re missing. We need to give air-rescue a sign that we’re alive. They’ll probably have alerted the helicopters at the Gagetown army base. Their rescue team will coordinate.” His explanation was reassuring. His tone, confident. Even though it was well into the second day since the crash, Shanna had no real fear that they wouldn’t be rescued. Her only real concern was that she 42

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wouldn’t be able to rescue herself from Stephan.

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CHAPTER 7

He’d sent her back to the bunkhouse to get some rest and keep the fire alive inside the woodstove. The pungent aroma of the wood smoke made her stomach grumble and reminded her she hadn’t eaten since last night. Come to think of it, neither had Stephan. They’d shared half the fifth of Scotch with the beans. She was sorely tempted to open one of the containers of bottled peaches, but decided to wait until Stephan returned from wherever it was he had gone. She didn’t question or speculate his reason for traipsing off into the bush after they’d set the signal fire. She settled down onto the blankets and waited for him to return. She must have fallen asleep. She awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps outside the cabin. She looked out the window to find the sun had gone down. There were a couple of thuds on the cabin door and Stephan’s voice shouting from outside. “Open the door, Shanna. My hands are full.” 44

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She got to her feet and opened the door for him. He greeted her with a kiss and an even more pleasant surprise. “Salmon! And you cleaned it. So that’s where you went.” “Yes, the stream. I know wild salmon are out of season, so shhh! Don’t tell anyone.” She took the cast iron frying pan from him and set it on top of the wood stove. “I think under the circumstances the authorities can turn a blind eye.” “Uh, I am the authorities. Fish and game are the Mounties’ jurisdiction. I could get in real shit if I get caught.” “In that case, my lips are sealed.” It didn’t take long for the heat from the stove to start cooking the fish. “What are the green and white things in the pan?” “Wild leeks and mint. That snow we had didn’t hurt them much. It takes a good freeze to kill them off.” “Mmm. Smells good. Where’d you learn to cook like that?” “Survival courses. You learn how to live off the land, what you can eat and what you can’t.” “You’ll make some woman a good wife someday.” He turned and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Hand me one of those bottles of peaches.” She didn’t ask why. She suspected he had another culinary surprise in mind. He opened the bottle, sniffed the contents and dipped his finger into the syrup. After tasting and pronouncing the peaches fit to eat, he drained off the syrup into the last of the pots they found in the mess cabin. He took her purse off the floor, opened the zipper, and scooped out a generous portion of blueberries. He tossed them into the peaches. “Dessert,” he told her. “And after we eat, entertainment. I hope.” “What kind of entertainment?” “It’s a surprise. The wilderness survival version of dinner and a 45

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movie.” Once the fish and beans were cooked, Stephan moved the frying pan to the floor. As they did the previous night, they shared their limited cutlery. “How many gadgets does this knife have?” she asked between mouthfuls of flavorful fish. “Oh, about twenty. And this is the economy version. I used one of my shoelaces and the fishing hook extension to catch our dinner. I—” They were interrupted by a noise outside. Stephan put a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. He got up and went to the window. Shanna saw him smile. He crooked his finger for her to join him. Curious, she crept across the floor to join him at the window. She looked in the direction he indicated. There, she saw the entertainment he’d alluded to earlier. A full grown black bear and two cubs were pawing through the dumpsite. The larger of the three, which Shanna took to be the mother, had uprooted some morsel with her snout and was chewing away, ignorant of her audience. Her offspring played with each other, swatting and teasing and pacing in circles. Their mother unearthed some half-rotted food and bawled at her cubs to eat. To Shanna, it seemed that they did more playing than eating. She noticed, too, that Stephan had drawn his gun. “In case they get to close to this cabin,” he explained. “I’ll fire a round over their heads and they’ll scamper back into the woods.” Which they finally did a half hour later. “How did you know they’d come here?” “Bears regularly visit dump sites. It’s practically a provincial pastime. You’d be surprised how ignorant some people are. There are people who actually bring their whole families, even the little ones, and set up chairs and sit and wait for the bears to arrive. Totally careless of their own safety. Other people bait the dumps with fresh food. By the 46

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way, never leave donuts in your car if you have to stop by the side of the road in the interior. Bears love donuts. We had to rescue some guy who got it into his head to fresh-bait a dumpsite one night, but left a box of donuts in his truck. By the time we got to the scene after the 9-11 call, the guy was in the tree and the bear was sitting in the bed of what was left of the truck eating the donuts. The damn bear had gone right through the back window and totally destroyed the inside of the truck. But, you know, there wasn’t a scratch on that donut box.” Shanna laughed, not entirely sure how much was the truth and how much was lore. “What happened to the bear?” “We fired off a couple of rounds and he disappeared. The guy in the tree was pissed that we didn’t kill it.” “I’m glad.” “We don’t deliberately kill anything unless we have to.” “Have you ever—never mind. It’s none of my business.” “You want to ask me if I’ve ever killed anyone in the line of duty. The answer is no. Oh, I’ve had to draw my gun a couple of times. And, of course, I had to fire a warning shot at your friend. But then, you already knew that.” “Jean-Francois Richmond is not my friend,” she said tightly. “He was a client. Or rather, the son of a client.” “Strange bedfellows,” he murmured. “No stranger than you and I. The cop and the lawyer, especially the defending lawyer. We’re not supposed to get along as a general rule of thumb.” He sat down on the floor and began to remove some of his clothing. “It’ll get warm in here again,” he explained. Shanna joined him. “Trying to change the subject?” “Yes,” he replied after a moment. “I like you better when we’re not talking about work. Do you mind?” She looked at him, his torso now naked. He had leaned back on the 47

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blanket and took a sip out of her bottle. The wood stove’s cast iron door was open, giving off a flickering glow to everything in the small room, including Stephan. Shanna felt a familiar stirring deep in her belly. He looked good enough to eat. “No, I don’t mind,” she said at last. “We’re bound to clash over a few things.” But sex wasn’t one of them. He handed her the bottle. She took a liberal mouthful, trying to ignore the way the amber liquid burned her throat. “I think we should get a few things straight before we go any further.” “Such as?” “Such as what we’re going to do once we get out of here.” “Oh, easy. I’m heading for the nearest bathtub. A nice, deep one. Preferably with water jets and aroma therapy candles and tons and tons of bubbles.” He grinned and gave her a saucy wink. “May I join you?” She thought for a moment. Not an unpleasant suggestion. She smiled back, giving what she thought was the most suggestive smile she could muster. “Only if you promise to wash my back.” “You have my word of honor. But that wasn’t what I meant. You and I are in very mitigating circumstances, close quarters, depending on each other for survival. We’re really hot for each other right now. But things are going to change once we get out of here. I don’t want any hurt feelings, Shanna. I’m very comfortable with seeing you on a personal basis once I’m officially off this case. I can’t make any more promises or guarantees beyond that.” She stared at him and considered his words. She thought them a little presumptuous, but what he said was honest and thoughtful. It would be disastrous for either one of them to pledge more than they were willing to give. No relationship came with a refund. 48

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“I’ll take my chances, Stephan. Despite my hard-as-nails reputation in court, my heart beats like everyone else. I don’t play with people’s lives and put myself on the line unless I know I have all the facts. But even I can’t predict what will happen later. I only know what will happen now.” “And that is…” “We live for this moment. And later, you can wash my back.” He was all over her in a second. “Consider it done.” He bent and kissed her full on the mouth. He wasn’t long in removing her top and the rest of her clothes until she was naked beneath him. “We’ll get into washing in a more appropriate venue, say a hot tub or in your suite with a private Jacuzzi. Deal?” “Still making deals, councilor? Okay, I’ll move on this one,” he agreed while continuing to rain kisses across her back and neck. After a few minutes, she managed to get him to stop. “Is this the kind of foreplay I can expect from you?” “Absolutely,” he murmured. “This and much more.” “But not all the time. Sometimes hard and fast.” “Hmm. Quick and to the point. What is your favorite position then? Bent over a chair with your panties down to your knees, or up against the elevator door with your legs wrapped around me.” He nipped her neck and she sighed. “You have been busy in fantasy land. When did you manage to come up with those?” “Between witnesses. I saw you get out of the elevator at city hall. I saw your ass waving at me. I heard your legs calling my name and laughing at the same time.” “Naughty legs,” she whispered. “What were they saying?” Stephan cupped her breasts together and nibbled on each of her nipples. “They were saying, ‘guess what we have between us’ and ‘wouldn’t you like to try some?’ They were a real tease.” “So are you. So big and imposing. Always so cool and scowling at 49

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everyone. But I could feel the heat from your eyes. And underneath, you’re blazing hot.” He raised a brow and glanced at her. “It’s the fire.” “No, I think it’s your erection and where it’s poking me right now.” He offered her a nudge to complement her remark. “I think you’re right. What should we do?” “I think we should try my favorite position.” “Which is?” “Doggie style.” She gave him a broad wink and rolled over on all fours, presenting her buttocks to him. Stephan approached her from behind. He could see she was ready, her wet folds glistening in the shadow of the flames. Gently he mounted her, parting her flesh and slowly sliding his rigid cock into her softness. She might have found fire inside, but at that moment she was the heat engulfing him. She heard him panting behind her, his ragged voice near her ear. “Is this the way you like it, cherie? All hot and wet with your pussy gripping me?” “Y-yes,” she panted. He plunged in farther, deeper, stretching her muscles. She mewled in newly-found pleasure. She curled her fist and dug her nails into her palm, while the intensity of Stephan’s body wove an orgasmic spell through her. She pushed back against him, urging him. “More, more. Yes! Oh, Stephan. I love the feel of you inside me.” She felt his teeth grating her neck and she shuddered. “And I love your pussy, so hot, so tight, so wet. I never want to leave it. I want you like this…always…always…” It was then she felt him arch over her and suddenly drive into her with a force that nearly knocked her off balance. Then the lightning quick pulse as his cock convulsed inside her. It was a new experience for her, feeling his cum spurting deep inside, flooding the neck of her womb. 50

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His arm snaked around her tummy as he pulled them both to the floor. He remained inside her for several minutes. Shanna let the heat of their bodies and the radiating warmth of the fire lull her to sleep. The sound of Stephan’s heavy breathing was the last thing she heard.

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CHAPTER 8

It was shortly after dawn that a noise familiar to Stephan woke him. He shook Shanna from her sleep and urged her to get dressed. He quickly slid into his clothes, holstered his sidearm, and stepped outside the cabin. He searched skyward for the source. He recognized the drone of a Sea-King chopper. He ran into the open, tearing off his red serge as he went. He stopped where the signal fire had blazed yesterday and waved the coat over his head to flag the helicopter. In seconds he spotted their rescue. The chopper did two circles of the area before coming in for a landing. By this time, Shanna had joined him. Four search-and-rescue personnel deployed from the helicopter. Stephan flagged the leader and shook hands. “Glad to see you’re alive, Constable. And the lady, too.” He inclined his head at Shanna. “Any injuries? Casualties?” “Only the pilot. Secure Miss Evans while I take you to the pilot’s body.” 52

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They were airborne within thirty minutes. The search-and-rescue team radioed for another unit to recover the pilot. Shanna was securely strapped in, but her face mirrored her discomfort. Most likely fear from being in the air so soon after their accident. The noise from the engine precluded any conversation inside the helicopter, so he put his arm around her and held her hand. He smiled down at her in reassurance. Gradually she relaxed against him. It wasn’t long before the chopper set down at the army base in Gagetown. They were whisked into the infirmary and given a thorough examination by the base doctor. Both were pronounced sound and healthy. Shanna was sitting up on the exam table. There was soft knock on the door. “Are you okay, Shanna?” It was Stephan. “I’m getting dressed.” “Want some help?” “No, thanks. I don’t think this exam table is up to your kind of help.” “Sassy girl. You’ve got a naughty mind.” Shanna smiled. “The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can find that bathtub. Then you can live up to your promise.” There was a brief pause before the door opened and Stephan stepped inside. “Then I can wait.” Shanna peeked around a blue curtain that separated them. She gave him a broad wink and a sexy smile. A moment later, she swept the curtain back and waited for Stephan to help her down off the table. His arms came around her and held her close to his body. He’d had a chance to shower in one of the officer’s quarters. He smelled fresh and clean and his skin held a mild scent of citrus and musk. Her insides tingled in excitement at the nearness of him. He bent close and whispered into her ear. “I have a surprise for 53

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you.” “Mmm, I’ll bet,” she purred. “Not that kind of surprise. Later. There’s a private lodge with one of those specialty spas about forty minutes from here. I’ve arranged a couple of days for us there.” “Not L’Auberge!” “The same.” “That place is impossible to get into. They have a waiting list that’s months long. How did you manage it?” He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling, his smile eager to please. “Being a cop does have some advantages,” he said. “Actually, it’s run by the wife of a retired member. I served with him during my first year. I simply called in a favor.” “Must be some favor.” “There’s a boutique for you to buy some clothes and her services are at your disposal.” “Fantastic. I can’t wait for that bath. And speaking of favors. You owe me one.” *

*

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He was a man of his word. Shanna sat soaking in the large Roman-style tub in their suite. She waited as Stephan stripped and brought a silver tray with a bottle of vintage champagne and two glasses. He placed the tray on the large tile ledge behind the tub, along with a tray or hors d’oeuvres. He had the romance of mind to light scented candles and place them around the large bathroom. He approached the tub, sponge in one hand, a tube of bath gel in the other. She had already washed her hair. She swept the wet mass over her shoulder. It floated like an agile sea creature next to her breasts. “I’m ready for my back wash now.” He stared at her and frowned. “Hey, you covered up the best part.” 54

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“Not the best part, I hope.” “Oh, I meant the best part I can see. We can play hide the soap later.” “Or we could play find the soap. Right now.” She pointed over her shoulder. “My back needs tending, slave.” “Whatever my lady commands.” He slipped into the water and settled behind her. The large tub was awash with soapy waves. He peered over her shoulder. “All these bubbles. A man can’t see a damn thing.” “You can see what you need to see.” She turned her head and he kissed her. Her face was wet. His lips felt moist against her mouth. He reached beneath the water and snuggled her against him. Shanna felt her lower back come up against his erection. “Mmm,” she murmured. “That didn’t take long.” “Quiet, woman! I’m kissing you.” And he did. He opened his mouth and licked her bottom lip. He delicately nibbled on her mouth, the side of her jaw and down the sensitive curve of her neck. Shanna shuddered as a delicious tingle shot straight to her submerged breasts. Stephan’s hands were busy tweaking and flicking her nipples. They responded to his touch instantly, forming hard, pointed tips. He slid a hand down across her tummy until his fingers found her soft nest. He paused to play there for a moment, sifting the wet curls around his fingers. Then he ventured farther, and Shanna felt the pad of his index finger delve between her slit. She gasped in response. “Shh, mon chere. Let me pleasure you.” He continued to nip at her neck and inflict tiny bites across her shoulder. Between the heat of the water and Stephan’s hands, she felt herself slipping into an erotic stupor. Yet part of her was still aware of where they were. “I…I’ve never…you know…in the water.” “There’s a first time for everything. Now, lie back and enjoy it.” It was a command he didn’t need to repeat. She nestled against his 55

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wet chest and rested her hands on his arms. She didn’t guide him. Instead, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to his expert tutelage. It was as if she were experiencing her masturbation through his hands. His fingers slid between her outer lips and parted each one. He managed to stop short of her entrance, his passage merely brushing the opening. Tease! Still her inner muscles jumped in reflex. “You’re breathing awfully hard for someone who’s supposed to be relaxing.” “You’re not exactly helping.” “I’m helping myself—to you.” Shanna wriggled her naked back against his hardness. “When can I help myself to that?” “When you’re ready,” came the growling response. “What about when you’re ready?” “I’m always ready for you, sexy Shanna.” Shanna decided she was ready enough and tired of waiting. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees in the large tub. This was definitely her favorite position, she decided. She wiggled her ass at him as if to say, “come and get me.” It didn’t take him long to respond. The water shifted and warm waves sloshed against her as Stephan repositioned his long, muscular legs. Soon he was on all fours behind her. He paused to inflict a love bite on each of her buttocks before moving in. A quick swish of her ass, a sudden greeting by the wet bulb of his cock, and he popped into her. The ensuing sensation was exquisite. The ridge of his cock managed to connect with her G-spot, sending her body into a freefall of sexual pleasure. He rocked forward and back, pummeling her from behind, the head of his cock battering the edge of her womb. It was a sharp, sudden orgasm that grabbed her and shook her senses. Stephen gave a deep groan close to ear, then bit into her shoulder. She winced, but not from pain. It was from the inner, primitive knowledge that her 56

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body had given him the ultimate satisfaction. He recovered quickly and finished washing her back. He took a thick, fluffy cloth and squirted a shimmery pool of shower gel on before he thoroughly washed her vulva. It was another experience she’d never had. On a more practical level, it was nice to have a man who cleaned up his own mess. This one was a keeper! Later that evening, they enjoyed a quiet, private dinner where Stephan had another surprise for her. “Oh, by the way, we caught your stalker.” He said it casually, over the Caesar salad, in a tone which could have been reserved for reciting a shopping list. Shanna paused, her mouth open and her fork in mid-air. “When?” “I got the call while you were napping.” They’d managed to grab some sleep time after the bath. “Well, don’t sit there with that smug grin on your face. Tell me.” “Our favorite bad child, Jean-Francoise. Seems he had a thing for you. His taste in women is the only thing about him I agree with. We tracked him down using his cell phone records. This time, he’s not getting off so easily.” Shanna felt the rebuke. In a small way, the problem was partly her fault. “Don’t worry, if his father comes knocking I won’t be answering the door. In fact, if you’ll help me, I’d like to swear out a restraining order in case some other smart lawyer in town—not that there are any more like me—thinks they can pull off a miracle.” “No problem. In fact, if I had my way, I’d lock him up and throw away the key. No man is getting near my woman.” My woman! He said it with a definitive finality that lit a warm fire inside Shanna. She smiled and raised her wine glass. “A toast,” she declared. “To your woman and my man.” Stephan gently touched his glass to hers. He took her hand across the table and squeezed it. An unspoken declaration that sealed an age57

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old bond. He broke her gaze and nodded at the window. “It’s snowing. I think it will be a good night to lie beside the fire, no?” “Yes! In fact, I think I feel another attack of scarlet fever coming on.” Stephan’s eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. “And I know just what the doctor ordered for a cold night.” And he did. For that night and for many, many cold winters to come.

58

CHEVON GAEL

Chevon has been writing professionally for six years. She is a Canadian girl, born and raised, who loves the ski slopes in the winter and combing the beaches of the Maritime Provinces in the summer. She is happily married to a true-blue, red-blooded Canadian Mountie. Chevon and her husband belong to a short-haired domestic tabby named Buddy. *

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