INDECISION warred within her. Finally, Sam nodded. “Okay. I won’t run.” At least, not yet, she silently amended. If the threats increased, all bets were off.
As the men discussed hiring Rafter and outlining the private investigator’s duties, a ray of hope filtered into her heart. Maybe they were onto something. Reese was right. This guy could do things the police couldn’t. Why hadn’t she thought of a private investigator before now?
Because she’d been too busy running. The idea made her squirm. She’d worked so hard to get through medical school, to get accepted into an emergency medicine residency program. Now she was so close to graduating, to actually achieving success, that she’d chosen to keep running rather than to dig her heels in and fight.
“Since you don’t have a picture, we’ll need you to work with a police artist to do a sketch,” Jared was saying.
“Is that necessary? I mean, Denis works at Beckley Pharmaceuticals. His identity isn’t a secret.” She paused. “At least, he did work there,” she admitted. “But by now he could have a job with another company.”
“Yeah, I think it’s necessary. Shouldn’t take long, though.” Jared glanced at his watch. “I’ll arrange for it before you’re scheduled to fly.”
Since she knew she was on for the late shift, she nodded. “Anything else?”
“Just give Rafter the information he needs so he can do his job,” Reese told her.
She shot him a narrow glance, not sure she was ready to forgive him for beating her to Jared. “I will.”
Later that morning, she found herself once again in Jared’s office, first creating a sketch of Denis then filling Rafter in on the awkward details of her personal life.
The sketch was eerily accurate. Reese had watched over the artist’s shoulder as the drawing had taken shape. Then, to her relief, he and Jared left her alone to talk to Rafter.
She found it surprisingly easy to talk to the quiet private investigator. He didn’t pass judgment or ooze with sympathy. He was an excellent listener. At least, until the end when she asked about his fees. Then he abruptly stood.
“You’ll have to discuss the bill with Dr O’Connor,” he told her hastily. “For now you’ve given me exactly what I need to work with.”
Samantha stood, too. Darn Jared anyway. Was he really paying the bill or charging Lifeline for the services? Either way wasn’t right. This was her personal problem, no one else’s. “So you’ll give me updates on what you find out?”
“As often as I can. Every few days to start, more often if I find something worth bothering you about,” he promised.
Samantha knew he would and the fact that Jared trusted him fueled her confidence. “Thanks.”
Samantha returned to Lifeline a half hour prior to the start of her seven p.m. night shift. When she arrived, she sought out the printed version of the master schedule. Sure enough, Reese’s name was written in alongside hers.
And not just for the upcoming shift. No, from the looks of things, he’d managed to manipulate his entire schedule to the point where it mirrored hers. Between Reese and Jared, she was beginning to feel her independence slip away.
She found Reese in the debriefing room, but didn’t confront him right away. The offgoing shift was still there, updating the oncoming shift on their day’s activities.
“Weather is supposed to turn foggy later,” Nate, the day shift pilot, informed them. “Hope it holds off for a while.”
“Me, too,” Samantha agreed. The night shifts were long enough on their own, without adding flight delays. The minutes would crawl if they didn’t get a chance to fly.
Ivan, the paramedic on duty with them, stifled a wide yawn. “I wouldn’t mind a nap. Bethany is cutting teeth so I didn’t get much sleep today.”
Sam had seen pictures of Ivan’s beautiful six-month-old daughter. She imagined it would be a challenge to sleep during the day with a baby in the house. “Did you work last night, too?”
Wearily, Ivan nodded. “Didn’t get much sleep the day before either.” His tone echoed with regret.
Their first flight call came in within the first hour of their shift. A single vehicle crash, car versus tree, made Sam suspect alcohol was involved. Sure enough, when they arrived, the driver of the car had been knocked out, the odor of alcohol strong on his breath. She performed a quick head-to-toe assessment while Ivan connected the guy to their equipment. Other than a huge bump on his head, the patient was surprisingly uninjured.
The police on the scene wanted to arrest him, but Sam overrode their wishes, insisting he go to Trinity for evaluation first. After a light debate, the officers agreed to meet them in the emergency department. She knew, from personal experience, that they would hang around until a decision was made to admit him or to discharge him. Only in this case, if their patient was discharged, he’d be taken straight to jail.
“How are things back there?” Reese asked as they headed toward Trinity.
“Fine. His head hurts too much for him to be a problem,” Samantha replied. It wasn’t unusual for patients to become combative, especially after sustaining a head injury under the influence of alcohol. But while her patient moaned frequently, he didn’t thrash at the restraints.
They dropped him off at Trinity without mishap. The police arrived ten minutes later. Samantha and Ivan completed their paperwork, then returned to the chopper.
They headed back to the Lifeline hangar to wait for another call. True to his word, Ivan stretched out on the sofa in the lounge, taking advantage of the down-time to close his eyes for some desperately needed sleep.
Samantha left him alone and returned to the debriefing room. She found Reese staring at the satellite monitor.
“How’s the weather holding?” she asked.
“Not too good. Cloud ceiling has dropped, with intermittent patches of fog. If it drops any more, we won’t fly.”
Sam hoped the clouds would cooperate, then turned her attention from the monitor. “I noticed you managed to finesse your schedule to match mine. Didn’t I tell you I don’t need a baby-sitter?”
“This is work, Samantha. I’m paid to fly, just as you are.” She almost laughed. As a resident, her pay was nearly nonexistent. “So what if my shifts are the same as yours?” His gaze darkened and he lowered his tone. “I prefer flying with you.”
His simple statement made her breath catch in her throat. “I prefer flying with you, too, but that isn’t the point.”
“Then what is the point?” He stood, stepped closer then reached up to smooth away a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. “You need to clarify it for me because I must be dense.”
Her protest died at the brush of his fingertips on her cheek. While she knew he was the wrong man at the wrong time, she yearned for more. His strength. His caring.
His touch.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She finally pushed the words past her constricted throat. “Denis might turn his anger toward you.”
A feral grin tugged at his mouth. “Good. I hope he does just that.”
“This isn’t a joke,” she said sharply, slapping her hand against his chest, encased in the navy blue flight suit.
His smile vanished and his hands settled on her waist, pulling her toward him. “I wasn’t joking, Samantha. Why can’t you trust me to protect you?”
“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted any man.” She didn’t see any point in hiding the truth. “I don’t want to see you hurt either.”
“Your ex is too much of a coward to come after me.” He eased her closer and she couldn’t resist. His arms were strong and the urge to rest her head on his chest was, oh, so tempting.
Maybe he would protect her physically, but who would protect her heart? “Reese,” she murmured, splaying her hands wide on his chest. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Kiss me.” He brought her closer until she was pressed against him, and his mouth lowered to hers. This was no tentative brush of his lips against hers. No, this time he flat-out kissed her, his mouth parting her lips, urging her to respond.
She did. A thrill of excitement zipped along her nerves as his taste went to her head faster than champagne. She’d never felt so on edge, yet so protected at the same time. His hands stroked her back, smoothing over her bottom, pressing her closer.
His physical response was there, between them. She wanted to unzip his flight suit and explore the hard length of him. But he distracted her by tipping her head and trailing hot, sizzling kisses down the line of her jaw, pushing the fabric of her turtleneck sweater out of his way to press a kiss in the hollow of her throat.
Their pagers shrilled simultaneously. With reluctance, Reese lifted his head. Sam blinked, tried to focus.
“Multi-vehicle car crash,” Sam said, reading the message on her pager. “Fifty miles north of here. I need to make sure Ivan is up.”
“Don’t. We’re not responding to this call.” Reese turned toward the phone.
“What?” Sam swung her gaze toward the monitor, to see if she’d missed something. “The cloud ceiling hasn’t moved any lower. And the peds crew is out on a call.”
“Paramedic base, we’re in yellow flying conditions. We’re not responding at this time.” Reese’s voice was calm as he gave the directive. “You might want to contact the peds crew to let them know the change in conditions here. They might want to stay put for a while.”
“Reese, I don’t want to fly in poor conditions any more than you do, but are you sure there isn’t a way to respond?” The aborted flight was still fresh in her mind, but it wasn’t even snowing, just a low cloud ceiling. “Those people need help. A few minutes ago you said if the ceiling drops lower, we won’t fly. Well it hasn’t dropped lower, it’s the same.” She could barely keep the frustration in her voice. “I think we should respond to this call.”
“No. You don’t understand the weather conditions like a pilot does.” His calm voice didn’t seem to betray any hint of regret, which only ticked her off.
“You’re the one who changed his tune,” she argued. “So don’t tell me I don’t understand. If this is your attitude, maybe I’d be better off flying with Nate or one of the other pilots.”
Reese’s dark brown eyes turned black. “You don’t know the risks. I do. The weather can change in a heartbeat. Have you read the detailed crash reports after a fatality? Especially when one of the crew members that died happened to be the woman you loved?”
The horror in his gaze caught her by the throat. Reese had always seemed cool and in control. But he wasn’t cool now. “No,” she whispered.
“Well, I have. It isn’t pretty.” Reese jammed his hands into the pockets of his flight suit. He hunched his shoulders, as if embarrassed by his outburst. Calmer now, he continued, “The wind is coming in from the north, right over the lake. The crash scene is also fifty miles to the north. When the warmer air over the lake hits the cold north wind, the fog will get worse. Remember the other night, when we were suddenly in the middle of a snowstorm? The lake makes the weather unpredictable. That’s why I turned down the flight.”
“Oh.” She felt small, petty for arguing with him about something she knew so little about. Clearly Reese was the best one to make the decision either way. “You’re right. As the pilot, you should be the one making the call.”
“Not necessarily.” Reese rubbed his eyes, then leaned his hips against the edge of the desk. “Some pilots would fly in this weather. I’m just not one of them. But you should have the right to decide for yourself, too. Each crew member should.”
Sam didn’t quite know what to say to that. But she remembered the sad look in his eyes a few days ago and, when combined with his most recent comments, the truth clicked. “Who was she?” she asked.
His head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“The woman you loved and lost to a crash.” The signs were so clear now that she knew to look for them. Everyone joked about Reese peering over Mitch’s shoulder, how he took flying safety so seriously. But none of them had understood why. If there had been any rumors about Reese’s past, she hadn’t heard them.
He was silent for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Valerie. We were engaged to be married. My best friend, Greg Hasking, was the pilot. The paramedic on board was Jim Wahlen, a guy who left behind a wife and two kids.”
Dear God. Sorrow washed over her. Samantha couldn’t imagine how the paramedic’s widow must have felt, losing her husband so young. And Reese. How had he survived, losing two people so close to him? “They all died?”
Reese slowly nodded. “They were flying on a transport and got caught in a snowstorm in the mountains of Colorado. I—They shouldn’t have been flying. The weather was too risky.”
“I’m sorry, Reese.” She longed to comfort him, to soothe his pain. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He shrugged lightly. “Valerie knew the risks and she loved to fly. I just wish I had been there, like I was supposed to be. I’d switched shifts with Greg.”
She winced, knowing how that fact would have only added to Reese’s guilt. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should have been there.” His flat tone betrayed the depth of his grief.
Sam ached for him, for what he’d lost. For the paramedic’s wife and children. “You’re here now. And it’s selfish of me, but I’m glad.” She crossed over to him, placed a hesitant hand on his arm. “I’m very glad, Reese.”
“Samantha.” His voice turned husky when she slid her hand up and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him toward her in a gesture meant to give comfort. He dipped his head to rest on her shoulder, his arms loose around her waist. “I’m glad, too,” he whispered against her temple.
Her heart soared and she blinked away unexpected tears. She threaded her hands through his hair, enjoying the silky texture against her fingertips.
His grip tightened at her waist and he turned his face into her neck. “God, you smell so good. Like Christmas every day.”
She smiled, tipping her head to allow him better access, cursing winter and the need for warm clothes. She clutched at his shoulders.
He groaned low in his throat and lifted his head, taking several gulping breaths. “We’d better stop. I’m not sure how much of this I can take.”
“Maybe I don’t want to stop.” Sam bravely met his gaze.
His eyes widened in a way that would have been comic if she hadn’t wanted him so badly. “There’s no rush, Samantha. You aren’t ready for a relationship, remember?”
“And you pointed out how it was already too late,” she reminded him right back. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “I care about you, Reese. You’re the first man in years to tempt me into throwing caution to the wind.”
He kissed her, clutching her close and showing the effect her words had on him. “God, Samantha. I want you to be sure,” he said finally, lifting his head and looking directly into her eyes. “Your career is important to you and boards are only a few short months away. We can wait until after you’ve taken them, if you want. For now I’m content to simply hold you.”
The blazing hunger in his gaze was a far cry from his chaste words and Samantha was touched by his willingness to wait. Had she ever met a man who’d put her needs first? Medical school had been competitive, each student vying for the best grades to ensure the best residency match. When she’d married Denis, and he hadn’t made the final cut, things had gone from competitive to controlling.
Yet here was Reese, hard with desire but willing to do whatever was better for her. Not controlling her, not trying to compete with her career, but supporting her decisions, whatever they might be.
“I’m sure, Reese.” She toyed with the zipper on his flight suit. “I’ve never felt this way before, ever. I want you.”
“Oh, man, what a thing to say when we have a long shift ahead of us.” Reese laughed and groaned at the same time. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re dangerous, woman, you know that?”
“We’re alone here.” She tugged his zipper down a few inches, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. “The peds crew is on their way to Michigan then back to Children’s Memorial, so they won’t be back for hours. Ivan’s dead to the world and your pilot’s sleeping room has a door with a lock on it.”
She’d noticed the room right away the first time she’d come to Lifeline. At the time she’d thought it odd that the physicians didn’t have a similar space to sleep, and Jared had explained how the residents were transient but the pilots were assigned on a permanent basis. Right now she didn’t much care whose room it was. Privacy was only a few steps away.
“I have to keep an eye on the weather,” Reese murmured, his voice hitching as she tugged his zipper lower still. His hands came up to capture her wrists.
“Do you think the fog is going to dissipate that quickly?” she asked, pressing closer.
“No.” In that moment she knew she’d won. Reese swung her into his arms and stalked toward the small pilot’s sleeping room. Once inside, he kicked the door closed behind him.
She tensed, half expecting him to toss her on the bed, but instead he set her gently on her feet. “There’s time to change your mind,” he offered.
The zipper on the front of his flight suit gave away beneath the pressure of her fingers. “I won’t.”
He slowly undressed her, as if she were fragile instead of flesh and blood. “I don’t want to scare you. Did he…hurt you?”
“No. Only with words, not the way you’re thinking.” She didn’t want the ugliness of her past to mar this moment between them. “I won’t break.” Frustrated, she shoved the navy blue fabric from his broad shoulders, wishing he would do the same to her. His chest wasn’t bare beneath his flight suit; he wore a thin long-sleeved T-shirt as protection from the cold.
While she knew it would be foolish to fly in sub-zero temperatures without being prepared for a long flight, she resented the cumbersome layers now. “I want to see you.”
“Not half as badly as I want to see you.”
Because it was quicker, if less romantic, they each dealt with their own clothes. Reese laughed when her boots got stuck in the leg openings of her flight suit in her haste to get them off.
The sound of his deep, husky laugh made her smile. Pleased to be at least partly responsible, she shot him a shy glance.
“You have a great laugh, Reese. I’d like to hear it more often.”
He dropped his own boots with a thud. “You will.”
When she was completely naked, his gaze hungrily roved over her. “You’re so beautiful, Samantha.”
She melted into his open arms. They eased onto the bed, taking time to savor the experience. Not once did he try to control her. Rather, he allowed her to lead the way, although she could see it wasn’t easy. The corded tendons in his neck and the bunching muscles in his arms betrayed the depth of his restraint. His ability to maintain a semblance of self-control as she explored every inch of him only made her want him more.
They shared, touch for touch, kiss for kiss, until at last he found a condom and, after sheathing himself, slid deep. Even then he didn’t take over.
“Tell me what you want, Samantha.” His voice, gritty with need, tickled her ear. “Hard and fast or slow and deep. Tell me what you want.”
“You.” She gasped and clutched at him when he thrust again. “All I want is you.”
“You have me.” Was it a threat or a promise? She didn’t know, couldn’t think.
All too soon desire melted into hot need, cresting into searing pleasure. Until she lay replete in his arms.
Overcome with tenderness and awe, she blinked away sudden tears. So this was how love was supposed to feel.
Reese stared at the ceiling, Samantha cradled against his chest, loath to move. Over the long hours of the night he’d checked the radar frequently, updating the paramedic base on the nasty turn of the weather before crawling back into his warm bed and Samantha’s waiting arms. Now dawn was only a short hour away. They needed to get up soon, but he didn’t want to disturb Samantha.
He’d broken his rule by getting involved with her. Although he’d tried to hold her off until after she’d graduated, he hadn’t possessed the willpower to hold out against her.
Idly, he smoothed a hand over her silky skin. These hours they’d shared had been the best he’d spent in months. Not just the intense pleasure, but the closeness. The way she’d giggled when he’d got dressed, sans underwear and boots, to creep into the control room, update the base, then sneak back into bed again.
Thank God Ivan had needed his sleep or he might have wandered in to find them. Still could, in fact, if he happened to get up early. He glanced at his watch. The peds crew was due in soon, unless they chose to wait out the weather at Children’s Memorial. Pressing a kiss onto Sam’s bare shoulder, he slowly drew away, inch by inch.
This time he dressed properly, knowing there would be no crawling back to bed. At least, not until they were home. Would Samantha allow him in her apartment? Or was this single magical night the only one they’d share?
“Samantha, honey, you’d better get up.” He gently shook her shoulder once he was safely dressed. “I’ll be in the debriefing room. You need to get dressed.”
“Hmm.” She smiled at him, her beautiful smoky gray eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. “Okay.”
He grinned as he headed into the debriefing room. Damn, he could get used to waking up with Samantha in his arms. The weather had turned into a storm early this morning, the wind howling and the swirling snow dropping visibility to mere inches. The storm had been unexpected and, needless to say, they wouldn’t be flying any time in the next few hours.
After updating the paramedic base and verifying that the Lifeline peds crew would leave the chopper at Children’s Memorial and get a taxi back, he logged onto his e-mail. The first item to capture his attention was an alert from Pilots Incorporated, the voluntary organization of helicopter rescue pilots sharing medical air flight information across the country.
“Crash alert. Chicago’s Air Angel suffered a fatal helicopter crash at 0200 hours this morning. Fatalities included the entire crew, pilot, flight nurse and flight physician. Our prayers go out to the crew’s family and friends.”
Stunned, Reese stared at the message. There were bound to be other factors surrounding the crash, but one thing was for sure. Chicago’s weather often mirrored theirs.
The pilot had crashed flying in weather Reese had refused to fly in.