Electricity zipped along her wrist from the contact. It took her a moment to digest his comment and then hide her surprise, again glad she wore the sunglasses to protect her eyes and expression. Nobody in DC would’ve been so forward upon meeting her.
“You don’t know me,” she countered.
His grunt was neither assent nor denial. He released her and grabbed the two overlarge suitcases, hefting them easily, turning back toward the waiting plane.
Her mouth opened and closed. She scrambled to follow him into the frigid air. “Do you need me to take one of those?” Both had been over the weight limit on her commercial flights and a pain to lug through the Anchorage airport.
“No.” His stride didn’t shorten.
Well, all right. If he wanted to put out his back, it was fine by her. Although, he didn’t seem to be struggling much. In theslightest. The guy looked to be in great shape, no doubt about it. He opened the plane’s cargo door and roughly plunked the suitcases inside, partially turning. “Backpack here or up with you?”
She’d forgotten her pack and couldn’t help the sigh that escaped when she shrugged it off to hand over. The meager case files she held had been heavier than expected after a long trek. While she didn’t like having her gun out of reach, she wouldn’t need it in the air. Shooting her pilot would be a disaster. “Back here is fine.”
He secured the pack with the luggage and gestured around the other side of the plane.
She faltered and then preceded him, carefully picking her way across the ice in her new boots. Once on the other side, she waited for him to open the door to the co-pilot’s seat. Her knees trembled.
Only one eyebrow went up this time. “Afraid to fly?” He leaned against the side of the craft, his stance casual in the freezing cold as if he had all day for a conversation.
The guy didn’t like complete sentences, did he? She nodded. Before he could launch into the usual lecture, she held up a hand. “I understand flying is safer than driving, and there are all sorts of measures to keep airplanes accident-free. I also know you could land this on any flat surface and get us to safety.” None of that mattered when anxiety rose.
“Honey, I could barely land this thing here with plenty of room. If anything goes wrong, we’re dead.” He pushed the sunglasses up on his head, revealing eyes greener than the sharpest emerald.
A vise gripped her throat, an invisible one, and she breathed deeply to calm herself. “You’re not a pilot?”
He lifted one powerful shoulder in a tough-guy shrug. “Not really.”
Her spine straightened on its own. “You don’t have a pilot’s license?”
His flash of a grin was as charming as it was unexpected. “Nope.”
Her shoulders snapped back. If he said one more word, her body would be at full attention whether she liked it or not. “Then what the hell are you doing flying that thing?”
“We got notice in Knife’s Edge that you were out here. Somebody had to come get you. I was the only one sober enough.” He rubbed the scruff across his angled jaw.
“Sober enough?” She backed a step away. The sparkle in his green eyes caught her. Was he messing with her?
He studied her face and then gave another grunt she couldn’t decipher. “Listen, Agent.”
“Ophelia,” she protested, her stomach doing odd flip-flops that had nothing to do with her fear of flying.
“I’d like to keep your title in mind.” He pulled the door open wider. “A hungover pilot is the least of your worries in an Alaskan winter. Another late but dangerous snowfall has about another day to arrive, and winds will make flying impossible. Darkness is gonna fall for months—for good, it’ll seem. You want me to take you back to Anchorage right now. Trust me.”
Trust him? Yeah, right. “I’m not getting into a plane with you.” Being unwanted was nothing new to her, yet her chest chilled even more.
He might’ve winced, but the hard planes in the stone that made up his spectacular face barely moved. “I’m your only choice unless you want to wait for spring. I doubt you know how to hunt, so you’ll starve in that little warming hut before you freeze. Well, probably.”
She grabbed her temper with sheer will and shoved her glasses onto her head. “There must be another pilot and another plane coming at some point.”
“No other plane and no other pilot. Probably for months.” He looked up at the startling blue sky. “Winter is a month late, so it’s gonna come in fast. Today.”
She drew her phone free of her jacket and shook it. No service.
He chuckled. “Where would you put a cell tower around here?”
Good point. She slid the phone back into the warmth. “How intoxicated are you?”
“I’m fine. Also, the winds are better, and the runway’s much bigger in Anchorage, so how about I take you there? Cell service actually works there all the time, and in Knife’s Edge, it’s spotty—to say the least. It’s already December, and you don’t want to miss the holidays with family, do you?”