Safari Moon (7 page)

She fell into bed and pulled a huge quilt
over her. And then the telephone rang, the sound muffled by the
quilt over her head.

“If that’s Robert, being nice to me again,
I’m going to scream.” She shifted to grab the phone before the
answering machine switched on. “I don’t want nice, and forgiving,
and perfect. Robert I...”

“Hellooo...” a deep, sexy voice wafted over
the phone lines. “Are you asleep?”

She stopped breathing. A gasp of delight
caught in her throat.

“Solo.”

She felt very insecure, and the sound of his
familiar voice in her ear made her senses respond wildly.

Solo--her security. She was used to him, his
laugh, his warmth, and he would never run for office. He just
wanted his adventures.

Her one romantic fantasy--he would rescue
her from all her nightmares and carry her off on his white horse to
his castle in the clouds where they’d live forever on adventure and
romance.

Except her dreams were fiction and Solo
would never see her as anything but his buddy. She’d have to rescue
herself.

Nonetheless, she cuddled in deeper, cradling
the phone against her shoulder, and continued to pretend.

“I’m glad you’re home.” Her fantasy got
better.

“I’m glad you called. I’ve thought about
you.”

“Have you? Can you forgive me? I was a bit
presumptuous.” His voice lowered taking on a throaty whisper. She
sighed and snuggled into the quilt, enjoying the mental picture
she’d conjured up. “I would never hurt you, Nyssa. I didn’t mean to
put you on the spot. You’ve bailed me out of chaos more times than
I can remember. I don’t want to lose what we have. Our friendship
means everything to me.”

“Solo--”

“Still buds?”

“Yes.” How could she argue the point? He
called when she was at her lowest. “Where are you? The connection
is not very good.”

“I’m in Alaska.”

“You left early?”

Why was he calling? Although the phone
rattled with static, she thought she could hear music in the
background--muffled giggles. It didn’t sound solitary to her. She
should hear a wolf howl or crickets or something.

“So, you’re where you want to be. Why the
call?”

“I had to get away.” His voice crackled over
the line, and she had to stop breathing to hear the rest of the
conversation. “But they followed me. Nyssa, I can have a private
plane at the Redmond airport in thirty minutes. I need you.”

She was falling again.

But she didn’t understand why he still
needed her. If she figured correctly, he was somewhere between
nowhere and the wilderness. He was probably huddled in a little
tent and the caribou were grazing downstream. His zoom was set on
his tripod and the pictures would be magnificent. “Solo, don’t you
remember what I told you? I’ve other commitments. I--”

“I know. But I’m desperate for you. You
won’t let me down, please? I’m begging.”

She sat up, the covers slipping down to her
waist. “What’s going on? You sound dreadful.”

“Please, Nyssa. You have to hurry.”

“I don’t understand. Can’t you tell me
what’s wrong?”

But as she waited, breath held tight, all
she could hear was a throaty purr in the background. And then the
phone beeped off.

For the longest time she waited, receiver in
one hand while she stared out the bedroom window. He was on an
adventure. The assignment was all-important to him.

From the sound of his voice, he could have
been in grave danger--danger from a purring seductress?

Thinking about it one more time, Nyssa came
to a sudden and quick conclusion. This might be her last Solo St.
John adventure. Perhaps she could be his damsel come to the rescue.
But if she went with Solo to Alaska, would she then be just like
all the other bimbos he'd dated?

She had thirty minutes to get her act
together. That wasn’t enough time to pack and get to the airport,
but she was sure the pilot would wait. Solo knew how long the trip
would take.

So she was going to Alaska. Going after
Solo.

She’d get to see the wilderness and work
alongside him. She would pull Solo out of the clutches of any bimbo
that came along. And, she told herself, Alaska would be the last
time she’d allow herself to be alone with Solo St. John.

Chapter Four

The runway, which wasn’t a runway but a long
strip of almost flat land, stood in the center of nowhere. The
Alaskan prairie stretched onward for a half mile in every
direction. To the south she could barely discern the lake they’d
flown over before landing; to the north, west, and east a few
scraggly trees rose to meet the sky. The earth was pristine and
breathlessly clean.

Solo St. John was nowhere in sight. What
could she expect? She tried for anger but decided that emotion was
a waste of time. If Solo could have been here, he would have and
so, with that idea in mind, she looked around.

After satisfying herself he didn’t intend to
meet her at the airstrip, and after she watched the tiny plane that
brought her to this desolate spot vanish in the sky against a
backdrop of thunderheads, she began to walk.

A softly vanishing curl of smoke rose from
the indentation of a deep valley to the west, so she headed in that
direction. But doubts assailed her. He’d called her hadn’t he, or
was all this an elaborate illusion? No, that was one thing Solo
would never do. He’d never concoct a story like this, never lie to
her. If he said he was desperate, he was desperate. But where was
he.

She’d made it to the Redmond airport in less
than an hour, a shoulder bag containing a few changes of clothing
and other necessities over her arm. The pilot had grinned at her
and with hardly a word spoken between them, took off. When she
changed planes in Anchorage, the pilot gave her detailed directions
to the cabin Solo occupied before he taxied down the runway.

Meanwhile, “What have I gotten myself into?
There isn’t another living soul for miles and miles.” How on earth
could one of Solo’s women find him way out here? The Colonel, of
course. A stupid question. If there was another female with Solo,
what could she do about it?

Alaska had not surprised her. This huge
emptiness, the vast acres of land, and the barrenness that seemed
to stretch on forever was everything she'd envisioned. What did
surprise her was that she had not come up with a plan yet.

And now, grounded, she trudged toward what
she hoped was an encampment of some sort. She never knew what
living arrangements Solo would come up with, but she prayed this
time there would be something better than a tent. The thought of a
bear invading her bed was not pleasant.

Nyssa was the first to admit she preferred a
soft bed and a roof over her head to sleeping in the great outdoors
with nothing but the sky and twinkling stars above.

She began to have dangerous second thoughts
as she walked on and could no longer see the thin spiral of smoke.
The sky grew darker by the minute and the trail looked
non-existent. But there was a trail and it did run in the direction
of the smoke--if she could still see the smoke. Which she
couldn’t.

This was the kind of thing she hated about
Solo’s adventures. Nyssa pushed away a thorny bush. She seldom knew
where she was until she was there. By that time it was always too
late to turn around.

Alaska reminded her of the time she’d been
stranded in the desert with Solo. While Solo ate the delicious
flora and fauna of the arid, dry landscape, she escaped with second
degree burns and a tarantula that couldn’t live without her.

That was the first time she vowed to never
ever let him talk her into an adventure again. She was weak-willed.
But she couldn’t blame her ineptness on Solo as she’d like to
do.

When she saw a narrow curving road emerge
from behind a thicket of bushes, her spirits lifted. Perhaps her
luck was changing. Emitting a little determined sigh, she
repositioned her shoulder bag and trudged on. Finally, she saw the
cabin.

The place was larger than she’d prayed for.
Of course it didn’t count that she’d prayed for anything larger
than a tent. A wide porch wrapped around the outside. Light
shinning from what looked to be a loft gave the retreat a romantic
ambience.

A drop of rain brushed against her cheek.
Lightning lit the sky and she heard a crack of thunder. She wasn’t
sure what to do, rush the place or sneak around back, so she stood
and stared while the rain began to do more than drip.

One car--so dirty its color was
undistinguishable--sat in front of the cabin. So what was going on
here? If there was a female, where was she? Did she drive to the
cabin with him? If so, he deserved her. If not, why was she still
here? No, she knew why. One thing Solo had trouble doing was
telling a female to get lost. The word ‘no’ was not in his
vocabulary.

Now that she was here, standing in front of
his cabin, she still didn’t have a plan. She thought furiously as
she started walking again.

A shiver shot down her spine when she
stepped onto the porch. Her second step brought a loud creak to her
ears, and with the noise, she froze. “I don’t know why I agreed to
this. You’re going to owe me big time.” Valiantly though, she kept
on, striding purposely to the front door. She tried to put on her
most grim, threatening expression. He’d taken advantage of her one
to many times, and before she made him phone or radio for a plane
to take her home, she’d tell him what she thought.

She no sooner lifted her hand to knock than
she saw Solo through the small window on the door. He sat on the
couch, a strained expression marring his features while a tall
voluptuous redhead cuddled next to him.

Nyssa narrowed her eyes, taking in the scene
and realized that even though Solo didn’t fight the woman on his
lap, he didn’t look like he enjoyed himself.

The redhead whispered in his ear and he
choked. His hands gripped her waist, and pushed her away but she
clung tenaciously. He talked to her, his voice muffled and no
matter how Nyssa strained, she couldn’t hear what he said.

Suddenly his voice escalated and the
conversation came to her loud and clear.

“What about the wolves and the bears?” the
lady wailed, the threat of tears close. Poor Solo, he could never
resist tears.

“You won’t hurt them will you?” Solo’s
question should have amused her except Nyssa could sense the
undercurrent of anger that charged the air when he spoke. Solo was
known for his patience but at the moment, she guessed, he’d used
all he’d been allotted.

“What if I get lost?”

“Oh, please,” Nyssa sighed.

“What was that?” Solo pushed one of the
female’s wandering hands from one of his more delicate spots.

“No!” she screamed. “You can’t make me go
out there. I’ll just die of fright.”

The woman plastered herself closer to Solo,
if that was possible. And from her vantage point, Nyssa would not
have wanted to bet on it.

“Hey, I’ll see you out to the car. After
all, you found your way out here by yourself. Surely you can get
back.”

“I didn’t know how awful it would be--how
terrifying--how dangerous.” Real, fluid tears welled in her eyes
and Nyssa stifled a sigh of exasperation. Something would have to
be done soon or poor Solo might find himself saddled with this
piece of baggage.

“It’s only two miles to the nearest trading
post and from there you can call a pilot. I’ve got one on standby,
for my personal use. I’ll radio ahead.”

Somehow the lady in question managed to
snuggle in closer to Solo. Nyssa decided she’d seen enough. Act
now, she chided herself, or forever hold your peace.

“I want to stay here with you,” the redhead
purred, all remnants of tears long-gone.

A good scare would do the lady good, but she
didn’t have a bear suit handy so perhaps something more drastic
might do the trick. A gamble, but once she’d been pretty good at
risk taking. So what if the stakes were higher this time? A man’s
life, his self respect, that sounded too humbling. Perhaps she
shouldn’t take it quite that far.

Solo always found a woman, except this time
they were finding him by the droves, and he didn’t know what to do.
Extricating himself from their unwanted clutches had never been a
problem.

A frontal assault, offense in preference to
defense, she decided was the best plan of action. She preferred
open warfare to the sneaky approach. A few seconds passed while she
debated the alternatives presented to her, but nothing leapt out at
her.

So, grabbing the doorknob, she turned it and
stepped into the room. For a brief moment she waited, petrified.
The silence and fierce scrutiny she faced stole her breath. While
her heart thundered against her rib cage, she searched for the
right words in this situation. Nothing, absolutely nothing,
surfaced.

Even as the rush of adrenalin surged through
her, she started to speak, anticipating Solo’s next move, but
stopped short when she caught the relieved look in Solo’s gaze.
Courage exploded within her and she took heart. She was needed. He
looked expectant, perhaps apprehensive, but also grateful.