He awoke with a woman in his arms.

Even with his eyes closed, Talbot felt the warm, feminine body curled against him, and his nose was filled with the heady scent of sweet strawberries. As he drew in a breath, he suddenly remembered. The crash…Elizabeth…the forest. His eyes snapped open and he saw that at some point in the night, their bodies had not only sought the soft, leaf-covered ground but each other’s.

Her face was turned toward his, and he took the opportunity to study her with the glow of morning dawn seeping through the trees. He could easily understand why his brother had been so enthralled with her. She was lovely, with sinfully thick lashes and an inviting mouth that urged a man to plunder its depths. His finger itched to caress her cheek, touch her full bottom lip….

He wanted her. For years, he’d wanted her—and in that desire had been his shame.

Elizabeth McCarthy was—and would always be—his brother’s woman.

Dear Reader,

The year is off to a wonderful start in Silhouette Romance, and we’ve got some of our best stories yet for you right here.

Our tremendously successful ROYALLY WED series continues with The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride by Martha Shields. Our intrepid heroine—a lady-in-waiting for Princess Isabel—will do anything to help rescue the king. Even marry the single dad turned prince! And Judy Christenberry returns to Romance with Newborn Daddy. Poor Ryan didn’t know what he was missing, until he looked through the nursery window….

Also this month, Teresa Southwick concludes her much-loved series about the Marchetti family in The Last Marchetti Bachelor. And popular author Elizabeth August gives us Slade’s Secret Son. Lisa hadn’t planned to tell Slade about their child. But with her life in danger, there’s only one man to turn to….

Carla Cassidy’s tale of love and adventure is Lost in His Arms, while new-to-the-Romance-line Vivienne Wallington proves she’s anything but a beginning writer in this powerful story of a man Claiming His Bride.

Be sure to come back next month for Valerie Parv’s ROYALLY WED title as well as new stories by Sandra Steffen and Myrna Mackenzie. And Patricia Thayer will begin a brand-new series, THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Lost in His Arms
Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CARLA CASSIDY

is an award-winning author who has written over thirty-five books for Silhouette. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from Romantic Times Magazine for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from Romantic Times Magazine.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Chapter One

T albot McCarthy was not a happy camper.

Seated in his single-engine Cessna, ready for takeoff, he glanced quickly at the woman in the seat next to him. Her tawny hair shone with rich highlights as the last of the day’s sun danced in through the windows.

It had been almost a year since he’d seen her, but time hadn’t dulled the intense blue of her eyes or softened the determined thrust of her chin.

Elizabeth McCarthy.

His brother’s ex-wife.

Before they’d left her apartment, she’d changed from her feminine, tailored dress into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a windbreaker to ward off the coolness of the early-autumn evening.

The jeans clung to her long slender legs, and the pale tangerine-colored T-shirt reflected the color of peaches onto her cheeks. He tried not to notice the thrust of her breasts against the cotton fabric.

She looked totally relaxed and self-possessed as they awaited takeoff. Then he spied her hands. They were clasped together in her lap, connected so tightly that her knuckles and fingers had turned white.

“You don’t like to fly?” he asked, guessing at the cause of her obvious distress.

“Not particularly,” she replied, her voice breathy with tension. “If I must fly, I prefer big commercial planes, not planes no bigger than my bathroom.”

“Don’t worry, I’m an excellent pilot,” he said.

“Yeah, and the Titanic was unsinkable.”

At that moment the tower gave him the okay for takeoff. He turned onto the runway and taxied to a high enough speed to begin his ascent.

He didn’t speak to her again until they had reached their cruising altitude. “You can relax now. It should be smooth sailing from here to Branson.”

Her hands unclasped and she drew a deep breath, audible above the drone of the engine. “Do you fly often?”

“Fairly regularly,” he replied. “As CEO of McCarthy Industries, there’s always a meeting to attend or some troubleshooting to be done at one of our branch offices. I got tired of depending on airline schedules, and I like the independence of flying my own plane.”

He could tell she was only half listening to him and knew her thoughts would be for her nine-year-old son, Andrew, and her ex-husband. “I wish I could tell you what Richard was thinking when he pulled this latest stunt.”

A small smile curved one corner of her generous mouth, and Talbot tightened his grip on the controls, trying to ignore how the gesture softened her features and made her more beautiful than he’d have thought possible.

“You and I have never had much luck at second-guessing Richard and his stunts.”

“That’s an understatement,” he agreed. He focused his attention away from her and frowned. He had no idea what his younger brother was up to this time. All he knew was that Richard had picked up his son from school that afternoon, without checking with Elizabeth, on a weekend that wasn’t his usual visitation time.

When she’d gotten home from work, Elizabeth had found a note on her kitchen table that indicated Richard wanted her to go to Twin Oaks, Missouri, a small town just outside Branson, where Richard and Talbot had spent their childhood.

Elizabeth had called Talbot to see if he knew what was going on. Talbot insisted he fly from his home in Morning View, Kansas, to Kansas City. He’d picked up Elizabeth at her apartment and they were now on their way to Twin Oaks.

Talbot suspected that, as usual, they were victims of his impetuous brother and one of his spontaneous thoughtless stunts.

Next to him, Elizabeth shifted position, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Subtle yet sexy. She’d worn that scent for as long as he could remember. In fact, she’d been wearing it the very first night he’d met her, when she and Richard had come to Talbot to tell him she was pregnant and they were getting married.

Richard had looked scared to death, but Elizabeth’s blue eyes had radiated strength and purpose, and to Talbot’s shame, he had felt a flicker of envy that his younger brother had found such a beautiful, strong young woman to claim as his own.

He’d been appalled by that momentary stab of jealousy, and had consciously attempted to hold himself distant from her in the years of her marriage to Richard. In fact, he’d often been cold and brusque with her.

He’d hoped that attraction had died, but catching the scent of her familiar perfume, he was acutely aware of her presence next to him and of a tiny flame of heat that had ignited somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

Richard’s woman, he reminded himself. And even though she and Richard had been divorced for a year, she would never be anything other than Richard’s woman.

“I should be beside myself with anger at Richard for this,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “But I’ve always found it hard to sustain anger toward Richard for any length of time.”

This time Talbot felt a smile curving his lips. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Despite Richard’s immaturity and thoughtlessness, there was something endearing about him that made it difficult to get really angry with him. He was like a little boy who probably needed a spanking, but usually got away with nothing more than a sigh of exasperation from the adults around him.

Talbot’s smile faded and he frowned thoughtfully. “But he hasn’t been himself this past week.”

“What do you mean?”

Talbot felt her gaze on him, but didn’t turn to look at her. He’d learned through the years that looking at her was dangerous. It often resulted in inappropriate thoughts.

“I don’t know… He’s been unusually quiet, and when he does talk, lately all he talks about is our childhood…the past.”

“Maybe he’s doing some growing up, at twenty-seven. He’s still working for you at McCarthy Industries, right?”

Talbot nodded. “He’s a good personnel manager. He’s good with people.”

Talbot wondered if perhaps Richard was regretting his divorce from Elizabeth, and if this trip to Twin Oaks might not be an attempt to forge a reconciliation.

Richard probably hadn’t expected Elizabeth to call his older brother. But she had, to see if he knew what Richard was up to.

It had been Talbot’s idea to fly her to Branson where they could rent a car and drive to the tiny town of Twin Oaks. She’d readily agreed, preferring an hour-long plane trip to a four-and-a-half-hour trip in a car.

He wondered if Richard did want reconciliation, would Elizabeth be willing to try the marriage again? Certainly Andrew would be pleased if such a thing happened. Although he seemed well-adjusted to the divorce, wasn’t it every child’s dream to see his parents together?

And certainly all Talbot had ever wanted was for his brother to be happy. He’d promised his father a long time ago that he’d do everything in his power to take care of Richard.

He started as a shrill alarm screamed through the cockpit.

“What’s that?” Elizabeth gasped.

Talbot stared in horror at the gas gauge. Almost empty. But that was impossible; he’d refueled before he left Morning View “I don’t know. It looks like we’re losing fuel.”

“But we’re still miles from Branson,” Elizabeth protested, an edge of hysteria in her voice.

“Look outside your window and see if there’s a clearing where I can put down.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

At that moment the engine of the plane coughed once, then stopped running.

The only sound was the rush of the wind buffeting the plane from side to side. “No, I’m not kidding,” he said softly.

“What’s happening?”

“The engine has stopped.” Talbot worked to maintain control of the small aircraft. He picked up the microphone, but with only seconds to radio for help, he dropped it and kept his hands on the controls as the plane began to descend far too quickly.

“What do you mean, the engine has stopped?” Her voice rose slightly.

“I mean I’m no longer in control of this plane.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she cried. “You’re always in control of everything.”

At some other point in time, her comment would have warranted further discussion, but at the moment, he needed all his energy, all his focus, to keep the plane in the air. And it was a battle he was losing.

“We’re going down,” he said.

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Talbot McCarthy!” she exclaimed just before they hit the trees.

Elizabeth had always believed there’s a moment before death when your life flashes before your eyes, and all the pleasures, all the regrets mingle together for one shining moment of profound truth.

She was wrong. What flashed through her head as the plane fell from the sky were two things—a deep mourning for her son and the embarrassment of knowing she’d put on her most ragged panties that morning.

The noise when they hit the trees was deafening. Metal screeched, glass shattered, and it took a moment for Elizabeth to realize she was adding to the cacophony by screaming at the top of her lungs.

She clung to her seat as the fuselage was smashed from side to side. Her stomach heaved, as if she was riding a roller coaster and had just gone down the biggest drop. Vaguely she was aware of Talbot adding a string of colorful oaths to the thunderous noise.

Without warning, the fuselage veered sharply, then flipped on its side. Something hit Elizabeth on the side of her head, and blackness descended. Her last conscious thought was that death was surprisingly anticlimactic.

“Elizabeth?”

A male voice penetrated the black fog and disrupted her peaceful sense of nothingness. The voice came again, irritating her with its sense of urgency.

“Elizabeth!” This time she recognized the voice. Talbot. How on earth had Talbot McCarthy managed to gain entry to heaven?

Her next thought was even more disturbing. What if she hadn’t made it to heaven? What if her afterlife consisted of sharing space in hell with Talbot?

A protest formed on her lips and her eyes snapped open. A new vision of hell greeted her. The darkness was pierced by a strange flickering illumination. Tangled metal…acrid smoke…a tree branch jutting through what had once been the front window.

The plane. A sharp stab of pain pierced the right side of her head as she oriented herself to where she was and what had just happened.

They’d crashed. She jerked her head to the side to look at Talbot. In the flashing light, she saw his gaze on her.

“Thank God,” he said. “For a minute there, I thought you were dead. Are you all right?”

She winced and reached up to touch the side of her head, where a goose egg had risen and was incredibly tender to the pressure of her fingertips. “I think so, although for a minute, I thought I was dead, too. What about you?”

“I’m okay. But something is burning. We need to get out of here as quickly as possible.” He unbuckled himself. “We’ll have to go out your door. Mine won’t open.”

Elizabeth unfastened her seat belt and stood, unsteady on her feet as her head reeled with a sick pain. She managed to push her door open, then turned back to Talbot, who still sat in his seat.

“Are you coming?” she asked, worried now that she saw flames flaring in what was left of the plane behind them.

“My left leg seems to be trapped,” he said between clenched teeth as he used his hands to tug on his leg.

Elizabeth watched him working to free himself. As the flames grew hotter, illuminating the cabin, she saw dots of perspiration above his upper lip. He cursed and yanked, half falling from his seat as the leg finally came free.

“Go!” he shouted, and pushed her toward the door.

She hesitated and stared out the opening at what was left of the plane. The wings had been torn away, leaving only the small fuselage, which was now wedged between two towering trees and suspended about eight feet from the ground.

“We’re caught in the trees,” she said.

“How far to the ground?” he asked, urgency apparent in his voice.

“I don’t know for sure. About eight or nine feet—” Before the words had completely left her mouth, he shoved her from behind. She screamed and flailed her arms for an instant, as if by some miracle she might take flight.

She hit the ground and her knees buckled, throwing her facedown into the ground. Before she could lift her head, she heard Talbot hit the earth nearby. His landing was punctuated by a loud groan.

A moment later, he was towering over her. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. “We’ve got to get away from the plane,” he said. “I don’t know if it will explode or not, but we can’t take the chance.”

He took a step, then crumpled against her.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m all right—it’s just my leg. It got wrenched or something.” He tried to take another step, then cursed soundly as he nearly fell. “We’ve got to get some distance. You’re going to have to help me.”

She positioned herself beneath his arm, allowing him to lean heavily on her shoulder. Step by step, they inched away from the plane, deeper into the dense forest that surrounded them.

Trees were everywhere, as were mangled parts of the plane, and as they walked away from the smoldering crash site, Elizabeth marveled at the fact that they had escaped with their lives. A few inches to the left or the right, they would have hit a tree trunk head-on, and neither of them would have survived.

“Okay, we should be far enough away now,” he said when they’d moved about a hundred feet from the wreck. He eased himself to the ground, and Elizabeth sat down next to him.

Both of them stared at the burning aircraft. Flames licked hesitantly as if unwilling to fully commit to consuming the plane.

“How long before it explodes?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know for sure that it will. There wasn’t any fuel left, so it might not. Pray it does.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why?”

He turned to eye her, his taut features visible in the orange glow of the flames. “An explosion might be the only thing that gets somebody’s attention and brings help faster. Otherwise, who knows how long it’ll take for somebody to find us.”

They sat watching the flames flickering here and there without actually bursting into a full inferno. With each minute that passed, the adrenaline and the shock that had momentarily gripped Elizabeth began to ebb.

Andrew. Her son’s name was her first rational thought. She shivered as she realized just how close he’d come to being motherless.

She was aware of body pain where she hadn’t known she had body, and her head ached with a nauseating intensity.

The night was silent, other than the crackle of the dwindling flames. And as the flames grew dimmer, the blackness of the night grew more profound. The sky wasn’t visible through the tops of the trees, so no moonlight broke the descending darkness.

For the first time since the crash, she felt a flutter of fear in her stomach. “Where are we?” she asked.

“My best guess is somewhere between Kansas City and Branson.”

“Well, that certainly narrows it down,” she said. With the fear came a healthy dose of anger. “I thought you said you were an excellent pilot.”

“I am. You aren’t dead, are you?” He didn’t look at her, but instead, kept his gaze focused on the last of the fire. “I’m sorry I can’t be more specific about where we are.”

“I guess we aren’t going to make it to Twin Oaks.” She desperately attempted to embrace her anger, finding it more palatable than the fear she was desperately fighting. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you crashed the plane.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said dryly.

Her cheeks flushed and she drew a deep breath. “Of course you didn’t. I’m sorry,” she said grudgingly. “I’m upset.”

“It must be contagious, because I’m a little upset myself.” He drew a deep breath and plucked at the torn sleeve of his suit jacket. “This was my favorite suit, and now it’s ruined.”

She stared at him in disbelief, then saw a small curve at the corner of his mouth. “Talbot McCarthy made a joke?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I do have a sense of humor.”

“You could have fooled me,” she replied. “In all the years I was married to Richard, I don’t think I saw you smile once.” In fact, she’d always found him rigid, cold and slightly disapproving—and exceptionally attractive. That dichotomy had made her extremely uncomfortable. “So what do we do now?”

“If I had my cell phone, I’d call for help. Unfortunately it must have slipped from my pocket during the crash or when I scrambled out of the plane. So now the smartest thing to do is stay here close to the plane and hope help is on the way.”

But what if help wasn’t on the way, she wanted to ask. But she was afraid of what the answer might be. She scooted back so she could lean against a tree trunk, unsurprised when he followed her example and joined her.

She cast him a surreptitious glance as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Under different circumstances, she would have taken pleasure in his disheveled state.

In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him in such a state of disarray. His rich dark hair was tousled beyond style, and a smudge of smoke or oil decorated a cheekbone. His suit jacket was ripped and dirty, and the shirt that had been so pristine when they’d taken off was now wrinkled and blackened.

She frowned, remembering how he’d looked when he’d first appeared on her doorstep earlier that evening. He hadn’t just stood in her doorway, he’d filled it with his presence. At six foot two, Talbot had the body of a natural athlete. Broad-shouldered, slender-hipped, he carried himself with a masculine grace that drew women’s attention.

However, he wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense. He had bold features, dark eyes that revealed nothing of the inner man, a thin mouth that rarely smiled and a hawklike nose that gave his face a cool arrogance.

She gasped as her gaze now drifted over his legs. His slacks were torn, exposing his knee. The skin had been slashed open and the deep wound still oozed blood.

“Talbot, your knee is really hurt,” she said. “It’s bleeding.”

He opened his eyes and looked down at his knee. “It’ll be all right. It’s not bleeding that badly.” One eyebrow lifted as he turned his gaze to her. “Of course, if you feel the need to rip off your T-shirt and wrap my wounds, go for it.”

“As if I’d sacrifice a perfectly good T-shirt for you,” she scoffed. “I’ll make you a deal,” she continued. “If you can tear off a bunch of tree limbs and construct us a nice little lean-to to sit in while we wait for help, then I’ll rip up my shirt for your leg.”

He laughed, and the unfamiliar sound of his laughter sent a familiar heat spiraling through her—a heat that was distinctly uncomfortable.

From the moment she’d met Talbot, she’d felt a crazy pull toward him that had been frightening. And for the nine years of her marriage to his brother, she had fought it. She had consciously never spent any time at all alone with Talbot. And now they were stuck alone together in the middle of nowhere. She tried to ignore her disquiet.

“I think we’ve both seen too many movies,” he said. “Besides, I wouldn’t waste a good lean-to on you.”

Although he was merely returning Elizabeth’s comment in kind, she was grateful for the slight coolness in his voice, a coolness that reminded her she had never been sure she even liked Talbot McCarthy.

A light flashed someplace in the distance. Elizabeth shot to her feet. “Did you see that?” she asked. Excitement and relief ripped through her. “Maybe it was the light from a search helicopter.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a loud rumble resounded overhead. Not the rumble of a search plane, but rather the result of cold air meeting warm.

“I don’t think it’s a search helicopter,” he said. “I believe we’re in for a storm.”

As the first fat raindrops fell from the sky and splattered on her upturned face, Elizabeth glared at her companion. “I think I hate you, Talbot McCarthy,” she stated emphatically.

“Trust me, Elizabeth, before this is all over with, I believe the feeling just might become mutual.”

Chapter Two

T albot had never felt so out of his element. The rain fell steadily for about an hour, effectively dousing any lingering embers that might have still been burning on the plane and getting them wet enough to be miserable.

Fortunately the storm moved on, leaving behind a profound darkness and a silence broken only by the sounds of their breathing.

“No search party will be coming tonight, will they.” Elizabeth’s soft voice broke the silence.

He considered lying to her to ease her mind, but realized honesty was smarter. “I doubt if anyone will begin a search tonight.” What he didn’t tell her was that he doubted anyone would begin a search tomorrow, either. No, he’d save all the gruesome details for later.

“So we’re stuck out here for the night.” Her voice held a strange tension. It didn’t seem to be anger, but rather something deeper, something darker.

“If a search party doesn’t show up first thing in the morning, we can probably walk someplace for help.” Talbot also didn’t mention the fact that he had no idea if he’d be able to walk by morning. His knee throbbed clear down to the bone, and he knew he’d aggravated the old football injury that had, at one time, given him major problems.

“So, all we can do now is sit here in the dark.” Again that same tone colored her voice.

Talbot wished for just a spark of light, a tiny illumination that would make her features visible. “I know it isn’t going to be the most comfortable night you’ve ever spent, but there don’t seem to be any alternatives.”

She didn’t speak for a long moment, but he felt the pressure of her shoulder against his. “I don’t like the dark,” she murmured.

Fear. That was what he heard in her voice, and it astonished him. The cool, always together, always competent Elizabeth McCarthy was scared of the dark. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said.

He felt her stiffen in protest. “I am not afraid. I just don’t like the dark.” Still, she didn’t inch away from him, but remained with her shoulder firmly touching his.

He didn’t believe her protest. She was afraid of the dark. Amazing. One of the things he’d told himself he disliked about her was that she was always in control, always seemed so incredibly strong and efficient.

Someplace deep inside, Talbot had always believed that maybe if she had been a little less strong, a little more needy, then perhaps Richard would have had to mature and accept more responsibility in their marriage.

He found himself wondering what other weaknesses she might possess, and that he entertained any kind of interest in her at all irritated him.

As far as he was concerned, she was the devil in lipstick, a forbidden temptation sent to test his will-power. And yet he couldn’t help but be a bit curious. “So how long have you had a phobia about the dark?” he asked.

“It isn’t a phobia,” she said, then sighed and raked a hand through her hair, causing it to tumble against his shoulder.

He stiffened, fighting the urge to reach up and touch a strand, to see if it was as soft, as silky as it looked. “I think the best thing we can do is get some sleep. I’m sure things will look brighter in the morning.”

“Somehow I’m not counting on it,” she said softly.

They were the last words they spoke to each other that night.

Talbot tried to make himself comfortable, but the adrenaline that had filled him from the moment he’d realized the plane was going down refused to dissipate enough to allow sleep to overtake him.

He could tell Elizabeth was also having trouble winding down. She squirmed and wriggled next to him, but never allowed her shoulder to stop touching his. As time passed, her wriggling slowed, and he knew she had fallen asleep when her head lolled to his shoulder and she slumped fully against him.

His first instinct was to shove her off him. He didn’t want to feel her provocative body warmth against him, didn’t want to smell the faint scent of sweet ripened strawberries that wafted from her hair. But he had to admit her body warmth felt good as the night grew chillier.

He closed his eyes, willing his body to relax, knowing it was possible he would need all his wits, all his energy to face the morning.

If they were lucky, they would either be found by somebody who’d seen the plane go down or discover some small town nearby.

If they were incredibly unlucky, they would find themselves in the middle of a forest with nobody around for miles. And the way their luck seemed to be running, that was what worried him.

What if he couldn’t walk well enough to find help?

He smiled wryly. Of course, as competent as Elizabeth had always been, she could probably construct a litter from tree branches and pull him out of the forest. This was the last conscious thought he had before sleep finally claimed him.

He awoke with the dawn, for a moment completely disoriented. Before he even opened his eyes, his mind worked to orient him. A warm female form was curled up in his arms, and his nose was filled with the scent of strawberries.

As he drew a deep breath, he remembered. The crash…Elizabeth…the forest. His eyes snapped open and he saw that at some point during the night, their bodies had not only sought the soft, leaf-covered ground, but also each other’s.

Her face was turned toward his, and he took the opportunity to study her with the glow of dawn seeping through the trees.

He easily understood why Richard had been so enthralled with her. She was lovely, with sinfully thick lashes and a full, inviting mouth that urged a man to plunder its depths.

Her skin was the color of a barely browned biscuit, with natural peach in either cheek. As he stared at her, his finger itched to caress the skin on her cheek, lightly touch her slightly plump bottom lip. He wanted her. He’d wanted her for years, and in that desire had been his shame.

Richard’s wife. Richard’s woman.

With these disturbing thoughts in mind, he disentangled himself from her and sat up. In doing so, he woke her. She stirred and groaned, then sat up and shoved her lioness-colored hair away from her face.

“Ohmigosh. I feel like somebody beat me up all night,” she said as she stood and stretched, arms overhead.

Talbot frowned, his gaze drawn to her T-shirt, which had crept up to expose a flat, tanned abdomen. Relief flooded him as she put her hands down and the shirt fell back to where it belonged.

He followed her gaze as she looked around their surroundings and felt her horror as she saw the wreckage that now marred the serene forest floor. She crossed her arms and hugged her shoulders, and he guessed it wasn’t the coolness of the morning, but rather the evidence of their close call that caused her to visibly shiver.

“Hard to believe we both walked away, isn’t it?” he said.

She nodded, then turned back to look at him. “How’s your knee?”

“It’ll be all right,” he replied, oddly touched that she’d asked.

“Good, because if a search party doesn’t show up soon, we may have to hike out of here.”

He frowned irritably. He should have known she’d only asked about his knee because she wanted to make sure he didn’t hold her back. “We shouldn’t do anything too soon. It’s just a few minutes after dawn. We’ll stay here with the plane for a couple of hours at least.”

He could tell she didn’t like that idea, that she was ready for action now. And he could guess by the worried frown that marred the smooth skin of her forehead that she was probably thinking of Richard and Andrew.

“They’re probably back at your apartment by now,” he said as he struggled to his feet. “I’m sure Richard returned to Kansas City when you didn’t show up in Twin Oaks last night.” His knee screamed in protest as he attempted to put weight on it. He braced himself against a tree.

“You really think so?” The frown that had wrinkled her brow disappeared, and earnest hope shone from those big blue eyes.

Despite her face and clothes being dirty, her hair tangled and decorated with bits of leaves, she looked beautiful. For a brief moment Talbot wanted to take her in his arms, smell that sweet scent that emanated from her and ease away any of her worries by kissing those luscious lips.

The inexplicable tension in Talbot rose to a new level. “Richard might be a lot of things, but he’s always been a good father,” he said, his voice sounding harsh even to his own ears.

She stared at him, obviously surprised by his outburst. “You must be hungry,” she said. “Richard used to get surly when he was hungry.”

He’d expected her to answer his anger with some of her own. Her response momentarily left his speechless. When the ability to speak returned, he eyed her wryly. “I am hungry,” he agreed. “Maybe you could forage around in the forest and serve us up a nice breakfast of berries and roots.”

She ignored his sarcasm and, instead, eyed what was left of the plane. “If I could find my overnight case—and it survived the fire—I have a bag of corn chips and an apple in it. Surely that would hold us until the search party finds us.”

The anger he’d tried so hard to feel, the anger he needed to feel toward her abandoned him. Her gaze once again went to the wreckage wedged between the two trees. “Do you think my suitcase is still there somewhere?”

“I doubt it. If I was to guess, your case is someplace between here and the first place we hit the trees.” He shoved himself away from the tree. “We can take a look and see what we find.”

She nodded and set off walking at a brisk pace. He stumbled after her, trying to suck up the pain that ripped through his knee with each step. He’d rather suffer than allow her to see any weakness.

They hadn’t gone very far when she turned back to him. She stopped walking and placed her hands on her hips. “Sit down,” she commanded.

“I’m all right,” he protested.

“Yeah, sure. Walking always makes you break out in a sweat.” She strode purposefully to where he stood and placed herself under his arm. “I don’t want you to blame me when you’re permanently crippled because you went chasing after my suitcase,” she said as she led him to a tree.

Reluctantly he sat, knowing it was useless to pretend he wasn’t in pain. “Maybe if I stay off it a bit longer…” His voice trailed off in frustration.

“I’m perfectly capable of foraging on my own.” Once again she set off walking away from him.

Talbot watched her, reluctantly admiring the length of her shapely legs, the slight wiggle of her slender hips. He wasn’t surprised that she was handling the situation rather well.

She’d always had the kind of self-confidence that intimidated men. At least, most men. She certainly didn’t intimidate him.

He rubbed his knee, realizing that as long as he stayed off it, pain wasn’t an issue. Unfortunately there was no doubt in his mind that eventually he was going to have to get up and walk out of here.

As he continued to massage the sides of his kneecap, he frowned, listening to the silence that surrounded him. There was noise—birds called from the tops of trees, and here and there the leaves rustled as squirrels jumped from limb to limb. But these weren’t the sounds Talbot most wanted to hear.

What was conspicuously absent was the dull roar of highway traffic, the laughter of a family setting up a campsite. No sounds of human presence at all.

He looked up as Elizabeth came back into view, a triumphant grin on her face and a small battered suitcase in her hand. “I found it!” she announced as she sat down next to him. The case was battered and dented, but appeared to be in one piece. “I looked for your cell phone, but I couldn’t find it.”

She placed the case on her lap and opened it. Talbot instantly smelled the sweet berry scent emanating from the interior.

The first thing he saw in the opened suitcase was a pair of red lace panties, and his mind instantly produced a vision of her wearing them and nothing else. Heat filled him, and he attempted to shove the vision away.

She quickly buried the panties beneath a mound of innocuous clothing, then grabbed a plastic zippered bag and slammed the case shut.

“I don’t know about you, but at the moment a breakfast of corn chips and apple sounds wonderful,” she said, her cheeks stained a light pink. “I’m starving.”

Talbot was starving, also, but his hunger had nothing to do with a desire for food. It was a hunger he’d suffered for a long time, one that filled him with anger and shame.

He watched as she tore open the bag of chips, then carefully separated them into two piles. “I hope the search party brings water. I have a feeling after eating these chips, we’ll both be thirsty,” she said.

Talbot knew it was time to tell her the truth, and he dreaded it. So far, she had shown her usual aplomb in the unusual situation. But he wasn’t sure how she would react to his little confession. “Uh, about that search party…”

She looked up at him, a chip midway to her mouth. “Yes?” Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m guessing there isn’t one.”

“What do you mean? Of course there’ll be a search party. Doesn’t the FAA send people out when a plane disappears? Wouldn’t the airport where we were going to land send word that we didn’t get there?”

“I wasn’t flying into an airport. I was using a friend’s airstrip, and I was flying VFR.”

“What does that mean?” Her eyes narrowed even more.

“It means ‘visual flight rules.’ I was not under FAA control or supervision, but rather, my own.”

“Gee, why doesn’t that surprise me?” she said dryly.

She nudged his share of the corn chips toward him. “You’d better eat up. You’re going to need all your strength to help me drag your butt out of these woods.”

As she and Talbot finished the last of the apple and chips, Elizabeth fought myriad emotions. She was angry with him for not filing a flight plan, for not taking precautions. How utterly like him to assume he could control, could handle the entire world all on his own.

However, Elizabeth knew not to give in to the emotional pulls, knew that a lot of energy could be wasted being angry. And she needed every ounce of energy she had to get them out of these damn woods.

“You ready?” she asked when they’d finished eating.

“You’re angry with me.” He struggled to his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elizabeth scoffed. “What makes you think I’m angry?”

“You have a little twitch next to your right eyebrow. I’ve noticed it before when you’re mad.”

Elizabeth reached up and touched her eyebrow. She started to protest, then changed her mind. “Okay, maybe I’m a little bit irritated,” she confessed.

“Don’t you ever vent?” he asked, more than a touch of irritation in his own voice. “When you get angry, don’t you ever scream and rage, throw things and curse?”

“What would be the point?” Elizabeth snapped her suitcase closed and also stood. “Ranting and raving never solved anything. I learned very early in life that venting only gets you into trouble. Besides, you should talk. I’ve never seen you lose your cool. I always found that annoying about you.”

“Let’s not start listing the things we find annoying about each other. It would take far too long, and we need to get out of here.” He took a step, then grimaced with pain.

Elizabeth once again moved beneath his arm, allowing him to lean on her enough to take some of his weight off his injured knee. Instantly she felt the warmth of his body transferring to her, an oddly intimate sensation that set her frayed nerves further on edge.

“Which way should we go?” she asked him, trying to ignore that, despite an escape from a plane crash and a night spent in the woods, he still smelled good.

He frowned and gazed around them, then pointed in the direction of the wrecked plane. “I think we should go that way,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth asked.

“Hell no, I’m not sure, but it’s my best guess,” he replied, his voice containing a surly edge.

“Fine,” Elizabeth retorted. “And getting grouchy isn’t going to make your knee feel any better or make a rescue team suddenly appear.”

“Let’s just go,” he said, but this time his voice held only weary resignation.

They took off walking, Elizabeth supporting him as much as possible. It was slow going, and neither of them made any effort to talk.

The trees were close together, the underbrush thick and tangled. Squirrels jumped from tree to tree, chattering their anger at the intruders in their domain.

Elizabeth tried to focus on their surroundings, but Talbot’s nearness was overwhelming. His arm was around her and his body was pressed against hers as they made their way through the forest, and the strength and firmness of his body somehow didn’t surprise her.

She’d always secretly admired Talbot’s broad shoulders, slim hips and the stomach that held not one ounce of fat. She wondered what it would be like to be held in his strong arms, not in an effort to help him walk, but held tightly against him in a moment of desire.

She stumbled over a half-exposed thick vine and gasped as Talbot caught her and steadied her against his impossibly firm chest. “Are you all right?” His breath was warm against the top of her head, and she stepped away from him as if he’d breathed fire into her hair.

“I’m fine.” She drew a deep, steadying breath. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“Sounds good to me,” he readily agreed, and together they sank to the ground facing each other.

“How’s your knee?” she asked. She wanted, needed conversation to take her mind off the feel of his chest against her own.

“Sore,” he confessed.

She frowned thoughtfully. “I hope you aren’t doing further damage by walking on it.”

“I don’t have much choice.” He frowned and raked a hand through his hair. Elizabeth noticed the dark stubble that shadowed his cheeks and chin, a growth of whiskers that merely added to his attractiveness. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. About all of this.”

She gazed at him in surprise, waiting for a cutting remark, a touch of sarcasm, a subtle indication that somehow everything that happened was her fault. There was none of those things. His eyes showed genuine contrition.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, still looking at him. “You didn’t crash your plane on purpose, right?”

“Right, but I do intend to have a conversation with my mechanic.” The hard glitter in his eyes made her grateful she didn’t have the responsibility of maintaining Talbot’s plane.

“So, tell me about Twin Oaks. Why did Richard want to take Andrew there so badly? Why did he want me to meet him there?”

Talbot leaned back against a tree and extended his legs in front of him. “I can only guess what Richard thinks by the conversation we had before he left. I told you, the last week or so he’s been pretty introspective, and when he does talk, it’s been about Twin Oaks. Twin Oaks was the place of our childhood, a time in our lives when everything seemed wonderfully right.”

Elizabeth leaned forward, captured by his words, by the very idea of a childhood where everything seemed “wonderfully right” when her own childhood had been so horrifically wrong. “Tell me about it,” she urged.

His features relaxed and a smile curved his lips, letting her know his memories were pleasant ones. “Twin Oaks is so tiny it doesn’t even warrant a dot on a map. We lived there until we moved to Morning View, Kansas. That was a year before our mom and dad’s deaths. Twin Oaks is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone else and there’re lots of potluck dinners and town gatherings.”

“Sounds lovely.” And what was even lovelier than his words was the warmth that emanated from his smile. She’d never before bathed in the warmth of Talbot’s smile, and it was a distinctly pleasant experience.

“It was,” he said. “I remember it as the only time in my life when I was carefree, and the biggest responsibility I had was going to school.” His smile widened and his eyes lit with humor. “And my biggest worry was if Mom was going to make another of her terrible surprise casseroles for dinner.”

Elizabeth gazed at him thoughtfully, suddenly realizing the burden that had been placed on him by his parents’ untimely death. “It must have been hard for you to be twenty-one and suddenly responsible for a fourteen-year-old.”

He shrugged, the smile gone. “The way I saw it at the time there wasn’t any choice. I became responsible for Richard, or I let him become a ward of the state and go into foster care. He’s my brother and I could never allow that to happen.”

He got to his feet. “We should get moving,” he said, and in his words she heard him slam the door to any discussion about his past.

Still, as they continued to walk, Elizabeth found herself thinking about the twenty-one-year-old Talbot taking on the role of parent for his younger brother.

When most young people were exploring their first real breath of freedom and adulthood, going to clubs and dating, Talbot had taken the reins of his father’s company and accepted the responsibility for a teenage brother. For the first time ever, she felt a grudging respect and admiration for Talbot.

“Are you sure we aren’t walking in circles?” she asked after another hour or so. They’d once again stopped to rest.

“I’ve been watching the sun and I’m pretty sure we aren’t.” He rubbed his knee thoughtfully. “But I’m surprised we haven’t come across anyone, not even a group of campers.”

Elizabeth looked up at the waning sunlight that broke through the trees, then looked back at Talbot. “We’re going to be here overnight again, aren’t we.”

“At this point it’s a strong possibility.” He frowned and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “It’s going to get dark soon, and I don’t want us stumbling around in the woods then.”

Elizabeth fought the sense of unease that always permeated her when she thought of the dark. “I’m starving,” she said in an effort to change the subject.

“Yeah, me too. I’d love a big juicy steak, medium rare, and a baked potato smothered in sour cream.” He looked at her with a touch of humor. “And I suppose if your dream meal were in front of you, it would be a lettuce leaf with a drizzle of dressing.”

“A lot you know,” she retorted. “My dream meal would be a double cheeseburger with a side of French fries and the biggest chocolate shake in the world.” She picked a dried leaf from her hair. “Why on earth would you think I’d be interested in rabbit food?”

“Because whenever you and Richard came to my place for dinner, you usually didn’t eat much of anything.”

Elizabeth well remembered those nights when she and Richard had first been married and Talbot would request their presence at dinner. How she had hated those family gatherings! “I was always too nervous to eat,” she confessed.

He eyed her in surprise. “Nervous? You always appeared amazingly cool and collected to me.”

“I was a good actress,” she replied. “Inside I was a quivering bundle of nerves and knew if I tried to eat, I’d probably throw up.” She grinned at him. “Remember the Big Burger down the street from your house? I used to make Richard stop there on the way home and I’d get a burger, fries and a shake.”

She could tell he was surprised by her confession. “What made you so nervous?” he asked.

She hesitated a moment before replying. She couldn’t very well tell him that he made her nervous, with his gorgeous dark eyes and sculpted features. She couldn’t tell him that whenever she was around him, all she could think about was how it might feel if he kissed her, made love to her. At the time, she hadn’t even wanted to admit what she felt to herself.

She wasn’t about to tell him that her nervousness and tension around him was a result of an acute awareness of him, not as a brother-in-law, but as a virile handsome man whose eyes constantly held the chill of dislike.

“You,” she finally replied. At his puzzled look, she said, “Oh, come on Talbot, I knew how much you hated me. I knew you thought I’d gotten pregnant on purpose in order to trap Richard.”

“Why did you marry him?” His eyes held a genuine bewilderment.

“It wasn’t just because I was pregnant,” she said defensively. “And I certainly wasn’t looking to cash in on the McCarthy fortune, even though I knew that’s what you believed.” She raised her chin, like a prizefighter anticipating a blow. “I was seventeen years old and I thought I loved Richard.”

“You and Richard were both far too young to know about love.”

“Try telling that to two hormone-driven teenagers,” she said dryly. In all the years of her marriage and in the years since her divorce, she and Talbot had never spent any time together alone and had certainly never discussed her marriage to his brother and subsequent divorce.

She frowned thoughtfully, her mind flitting back in time. “I was desperate to belong somewhere. Richard was handsome and fun and seemed to want all the same things I wanted. I desperately wanted to believe that we could build something together. A family.”

She wanted, needed Talbot to understand. She reached out and touched his arm. “Haven’t you ever felt passionate about something, about someone?”

“At the moment I’m feeling pretty passionate about getting out of here.” He rose to his feet. “We’d better keep moving in what little daylight is left.”

He limped off under his own steam, and Elizabeth hurried to catch up. She’d wanted him to understand what forces had initially pulled her toward Richard and ultimately what forces had driven them apart. But it was obvious he didn’t care to know.

As she stared at his broad back, she realized he hadn’t answered her question. He’d probably never felt passion for anyone, she thought. He’d always struck her as a man who would never understand passion, or love or need.

He’d always appeared strong in his isolation, content with his aloneness. What she didn’t understand was why this knowledge of him created a strange ache inside her.

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