“Last night won’t amount to anything,” he interrupted.
“You don’t know that.”
“Let’s wait until we’re sure we have something to worry about before we start making difficult decisions. Right now, we need to concentrate on getting off this damn mountain.”
“Help will arrive soon.” She shoved her blond, shoulder-length hair out of her face and, for a moment, he was transfixed by her blue eyes. Even in this cave, he could make out their startling color. “With the storm over, Yosemite park rangers or…or CAP rescuers will be able to track the plane’s emergency locator transmitter beacon,” she said.
He wished he could be as confident. “If the signal went off.”
“It went off. The ELT is activated automatically on impact.”
“Not if it was cushioned by too much snow. And even if it went off, we’re in some pretty rugged mountains, Adelaide.”
Her full lips, which she’d used so artfully last night, twisted in distaste. “Don’t call me that.”
Offended by her tone, as well as her refusal to let him address her by her first name, he studied her—and tried to tell himself he didn’t like what he saw. That what had taken place last night hadn’t changed the way he felt.
“You can try to distance yourself all you want, but it won’t change what happened. Anyway, as I was saying, the signal could easily bounce from ridge to ridge, making it difficult to track. Or maybe the fire burned so hot it destroyed the box containing the equipment. Even if that’s not the case, the ELT is so far down the mountain, who knows what they’ll think when they find it.”
She curled up. “Surely they’ll search above it.”
“Maybe they will, if they have time before the next big storm. Regardless, we can’t sit back and wait. We have to search for supplies, light some flares, make a fire, do anything and everything possible to survive another night, if it comes to that.”
She didn’t react to his mention of another night. “Is there any chance Mr. Cox is still alive?”
“None.” He scowled to tell her he didn’t want to be reminded of the pilot, but she didn’t give up.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. But you can see for yourself. We have to hike down there. If anything’s left of the plane, we might find some food. Eating and drinking will help us keep our body temperatures in the safe zone.”
“Fine.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Where are my clothes?”
“They’re wet. That’s why I took them off.”
Their eyes met, making him wonder if she was reliving the same memories he was.
“If you want me to thank you for that, I don’t think I can,” she said.
“I’m not asking for your thanks. Just answer one question.”
“What’s that?”
“Are men so interchangeable?”
A muscle flexed in her jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“It seemed easy for you to accept a replacement.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It required a great deal of effort to block out your true identity. But I managed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it,” she said, but she pulled her gaze away as if she feared he might read a different response in her eyes. Then she dragged her coat around her shoulders and crawled out—and he tried not to look at the bare bottom she accidentally flashed him as she wriggled through the opening.
CHAPTER SIX
ADELAIDE’S HANDS and feet were freezing, despite the sun. And her coat wasn’t meant to be worn without a layer of clothing beneath. After three hours of struggling to get down the sheer cliff to where they thought they saw the shadow of the fuselage, she wished she’d braved putting on her wet bra and underwear. The rough wool fabric chafed, and since Maxim was leading the way, his hand often went up her coat to help her down. The descent was steep enough that she didn’t complain about him touching her bare thighs—she wanted to feel secure during the climb—but she knew what he had to be seeing whenever he glanced up.
“This is humiliating,” she grumbled.
“At least we’re alive,” he said.
“That’s easy for you to say. I’m not staring at your ass every time I look up.”
He laughed so freely it made him seem younger—and even handsomer, which was really something, since he was already one of the best-looking men she’d ever met. The media agreed; reporters often compared his charisma and appearance to John F. Kennedy, Jr.’s. Tall, dark and handsome, Maxim also came from money and was considered a real “catch.”
“You don’t have anything to say to that?” she asked when it became apparent he wasn’t planning to continue the conversation.
He studied their options for farther descent. “I’m not stupid.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means nothing I say is going to help. I can’t say I don’t mind seeing your bare ass or you’ll think I’m getting some sort of sexual gratification out of it. And I can’t say I do mind without making you even more self-conscious.”
“It leaves me with no dignity.”
He maneuvered onto a rock outcropping a few feet lower in elevation and turned back for her. “You had too much of that to begin with.” His hand went up her coat again, and he gripped her thigh while she secured her footing.
“How can anyone have too much dignity?” she asked once she’d reached the ledge he was on. It was so cold that their breath appeared in small, foggy puffs.
“You manage it quite well.”
She tilted up her chin. “You think I’m too stiff?”
“Not stiff, exactly. Unapproachable.”
“Some people would say that about you.”
“Those people don’t know me.”
“I could say the same.”
“That’s because no one knows you.”
“I have friends,” she argued.
He peered below. “Friends or acquaintances?”
“Friends! Franklin Salazar is my friend. I just received his endorsement, didn’t I?”
“Franklin isn’t your friend. I wouldn’t even call him an acquaintance. He just liked your, ah, assets. Tough for a guy to compete with that.”
“You’re saying I got his endorsement because of my figure?”
He climbed down farther. “I’d be more specific, but you might slap me.”