To Tame a Bride

Her shock-rounded eyes flew to Linc and she saw him grappling with the controls. It took her a moment to register the fact that he’d turned the plane on purpose. Though it was out of control, he’d managed to force it to do something.

“What are you doing?” Her demand didn’t convey any of her insight, but it was as close as she dared to the question she really wanted to have answered: Are we going to die?

A cowardice she’d never suspected of herself gripped her insides. They were about to die and she wasn’t ready!

The plane dipped crazily and suddenly she could see the treetops loom so close she felt as if she could put out her hand and touch them. She could see the individual leaves on the branches and instinctively pressed her feet against the floor in an irrational attempt to push herself higher.

“Cover your face!”

Madison was too frozen to move. The last thing she glimpsed before the nose of the plane came up and blocked her view was a space of open meadow.

And then the terrible sound of treetops scraping metal filled the plane. She leaned forward and covered her face with her arms. She must have fainted then because she never felt the crash.

Linc wiped impatiently at the trickle of sweat that slid down between his eyebrows, not surprised that his fingers came away bloody. His head hurt like hell, but he was alive. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious, but it couldn’t have been long. The sun—what he could tell about its position with trees blocking its light—hadn’t moved too far. But he’d been out long enough that the smell of leaking fuel was strong.

He glanced over at his passenger. Maddie finally looked disheveled. Her chin rested on her chest, and she looked as limp as a rag doll. She didn’t seem to have a mark on her, so he reached over to touch her arm and give her a small shake. She stirred then, lifted her head, and let out a small moan.

Madison felt as if every joint in her body had been dislocated. Consciousness ebbed back and with it the memory of falling through the trees. She jerked fully awake and glanced around wildly. Outside the missing windows of the cockpit, tree trunks and branches were everywhere. The tip of a branch had speared through a window space far enough that it was only six inches from her face.

“You all right?” The brusque question startled her, but when she turned her head to look over at Linc, her neck was stiff with pain. The terror and disorientation she felt eased at the comforting sight of him.

He was no longer wearing his Stetson. A cut near his hairline glistened with blood, but other than the cut, he looked as rugged and domineering as ever. His skin was a little gray beneath his tan, but he looked wonderfully, gloriously unharmed.

He gave her arm a small shake that made her aware he was speaking to her. “Are you all right?”

The question sounded a little kinder this time, and for some reason, her eyes began to smart with tears. Appalled, she forced them back and focused on mentally checking herself for injuries. Other than a stiff neck and a body that ached everywhere, she felt remarkably unharmed.

The realization that she was alive sent a gust of pure euphoria through her. “I seem to be...fine.”

Linc didn’t look as euphoric as she felt. In fact, his expression was so grim that she felt a surge of anxiety.

“Then we’d better get out. Carefully,” he added, “since we’ve got a fuel leak.”

Madison smelled it now, and it was strong. She automatically reached for her handbag, then had to rummage on the floor for it. Thankfully, it had been securely zipped so its contents hadn’t been scattered.

Linc bustled her out of the plane as quickly and forcefully as he had at the airport, but they had to fight their way through the broken branches and underbrush that jammed the space around the right wing.

Once they were on the ground, Madison stumbled through the brush, using her handbag to cover her face until they were past the tail of the plane. The meadow she’d glimpsed before the crash was just a few feet away.

Line had obviously not had enough room to land before he ran out of clearing and smashed into the trees. When Madison turned and saw that the nose and body of the plane had speared neatly into a narrow gap between the tree trunks, she couldn’t help being impressed with his aim.

But because the plane had gone into the trees, the crash wouldn’t be easy to spot from the sky. It dawned on her that the hidden crash made it next to impossible for a quick rescue. Linc’s next words confirmed it.

“I’ll get as much gear and luggage as I can. When I throw it out, drag it to the clearing.”

Madison glanced toward the meadow, then back at the plane. The smell of fuel was still strong. “W-will it blow up?”

Linc ignored her question and started toward the wreck. She seized his arm and held him back, terrified of an explosion.

“We need what’s in the plane, if we can get it.”

Madison let go of his arm. Of course they needed what was in the plane. The clothing she’d brought, her makeup and toiletries, were necessities. But not if the plane was about to explode.

She was terrified again, this time for Linc. If the plane blew up, he’d be killed or seriously injured, and they were too far from help. All she’d seen from the air had been miles of trees and mountains. Anxious for Linc’s safety, Madison followed, but hovered a safe distance from the wreck.

The first things Linc tossed her way must have been his. A packaged blanket, a rope, a bundled piece of plastic, and his duffel bag. Finally, he got to her luggage and hefted out her small suitcase to send it tumbling toward her. She winced when it hit the ground sharply. Panicked, she grabbed it and gave it a careful shake. The sound of small bottles clacking against one another made her hurry through the brush to the clearing to check the fragile contents.

The catch had jammed and she crouched down beside Linc’s things to set her case on the ground and force it open. She was so absorbed in the task and so worried that the contents had been damaged, that she forgot to go back to the plane to help with the rest of her luggage.

“Thanks much, Princess.”

The sound of the suitcase and garment bag hitting the ground next to her made her jump. Madison frowned at the luggage he’d dropped, then jerked her head up to glare at him. He’d located his Stetson and it cast an appealing shadow over his handsome face.

“How dare you throw my belongings around?”

One corner of his handsome mouth quirked. “Didn’t exactly throw them. Unless you’d like me to demonstrate what that would look like, so you can tell the difference.”

Something about the way his dark eyes shifted to her large suitcase made her reach toward it protectively.

But Line stepped over it to get to his duffel bag. Madison watched him mistrustfully until he unzipped the bag before she went back to the stubborn catch on her small case.

“Go through your things and pick out a few essentials,” he told her as he sorted through his bag, discarding one thing after another.

Madison ignored the order. He might have packed things he didn’t consider essential, but she hadn’t. She needed everything she’d brought.

Especially the contents of the small case. The catch remained stubbornly closed. She reached for her handbag to find something she could use to pry it open. The Cadillac key on her key ring was sturdier than her metal fingernail file, so she used it. But the key was too thick for the thin crack of the case.

“Get busy with that luggage.”

Linc’s terse words brought her head up. He was hunkered down, balancing himself on the balls of his booted feet with a forearm resting on a bowed thigh. He’d finished going through his duffel bag and was watching her expectantly. She could see he’d packed the roll of plastic and the rope. The blanket must have been packed in the deeper part of the bag. A pile of clothing sat on the ground next to him.

“I am busy with my luggage,” she shot back irritably. “And you did throw this case. You damaged the catch.”

“Hand it here and start on the rest of your things.”

Maddie looked over at him a moment, reluctant. Did she really trust him with it? What if he managed to open the latch and saw the contents—looked through the contents? Her makeup and toiletries—her feminine hygiene products—were things she considered too personal for male eyes. Certainly too personal for Lincoln Coryell’s eyes.

Eyes that were so brown they were almost black, she noticed, and so intense that they seemed to miss nothing. She suddenly had the feeling that they were probing deep into her brain, as if he could read her next thought before she knew it herself.

No one had ever looked at her like that; she’d never have allowed it. She wouldn’t have allowed Linc to do so now except she couldn’t seem to look away. She couldn’t seem to keep from noticing how attractive his dark eyes were, and how frightening and wonderful it was to feel the odd power of them stroking so deep, so—

The small case slid from her fingers, startling her. She grabbed for it reflexively, but wasn’t quick enough to snatch it. A tug of war would have been undignified, so she pulled back and clenched her fists.

“Sort through that luggage.” The order was low, but this time, it carried a burr of steel that chafed her pride. “Pick the essentials.”

Her firm, “Everything I packed is essential,” brought his dark gaze homing in on hers like an arrow on a target.

“Humor me, Princess. I’m having a bad day.”