Be Mine at Christmas(32)
Author: Brenda Novak

“He endorsed me because he knows I’ll fix the damage you’ve caused since taking over,” she snapped.

“You’re kidding, right? It’s taken me this long to clean up the mess your husband made.”

She’d been waiting for his help, but now she didn’t move. “Don’t you dare talk about Mark! He’s not here to defend himself.”

He sighed. “Fine. Mark was perfect. It’s just the rest of us bastards who have flaws.” He blew on his hands. “Are you coming or not?”

“No.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I need my bra.” He had all their clothes rolled up and fastened with his tie, which he’d hung around his neck and tossed over his shoulder so he could carry them as a bundle. She wasn’t sure why he’d bothered bringing them along. She expected to be rescued before they had the chance to dry out. “Give me my panties, too,” she added as an afterthought.

Lines of impatience appeared on his forehead. “Will you quit worrying about things that aren’t important? I’m not so impressed with what you’ve got that I can’t forget about it, okay? Your clothes are soaked.”

The “I’m not so impressed with what you’ve got” stung more than it should have. “You didn’t have any complaints last night.”

“It was dark last night. It didn’t matter whether it was you or anyone else in that cave.”

Surprised by the harshness of his response, Adelaide blinked at him.

He seemed to soften but didn’t apologize. Dropping to his knees, he found her bra and her lacy red Santa panties, her one concession to Christmas, and handed them to her.

She put them on while he retied the rest of their clothes. Her things were as wet as he’d said but she was already so cold and numb that she could barely tell the difference.

“Let’s go.” He stretched out an arm toward her, but she refused to lean on him any longer. He didn’t owe her anything. Just because they were stranded together didn’t mean they had to be friends.

Waving him away, she said, “Go ahead and see if you can find the plane. Or, better yet, find some help. I’ll get there when I can.”

He shook his head. “We should stay together.”

“The blizzard’s over. We’ll be fine. Just tell them where they can find me if you reach them first.”

“Adelaide—”

“Don’t call me that,” she said again. Every time he did she heard his voice from last night: You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Even though she’d known it wasn’t really Mark who’d whispered to her in the night, the use of her name had made those words personal. She’d believed they were spoken in sincerity. But that couldn’t be true. Maxim didn’t appreciate anything about her. The whole experience, every bit of it, had been staged for the benefit of survival.

“Well, regardless of what you prefer I call you, I’m not leaving you behind,” he said. “So you have two choices. You can let me help you so we can travel faster—which is critical since the weather can change within minutes. Or you can climb down on your own and I’ll wait a few yards ahead before continuing.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one waiting for you.” Without giving him a chance to stop her, she started down from her side of the ledge.

It didn’t turn out to be a good decision. All that white snow was blinding, and the canyon yawning so far beneath made her dizzy. But she felt for the safest toeholds she could find and kept moving. She didn’t need Maxim Donahue; she didn’t need anyone. Ever since her husband and parents had died, she’d learned how to soldier on alone.

“Adelaide, stop!” Maxim warned.

She ignored him, ignored everything except the tricky climb.

Staying where he was, he leaned over the ledge. “Look, if you want an apology, I’ll apologize.”

She wished he’d go down his own way and leave her the hell alone.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he called. “Will you hold still until I can reach you? You’re scaring the shit out of me!”

That wasn’t true, either. He only cared about himself. She would’ve told him so, except she was breathing too hard to speak. Clinging to the icy mountain took a lot of effort, more than she’d expected.

Spotting what appeared to be a fairly secure route, a path of bare rocks jutting out of the ice and snow, she paused for a moment to catch her breath. If she could get to the next plateau, she’d have a chance to rest and recover. Maybe she would prove that she was capable enough and Maxim would go on without her. Then she could sit and wait, or climb down at a more comfortable speed. Right now she felt the pressure to move quickly and efficiently, to show him she didn’t need his help. But her fingers and toes were numb, and the wind kept whipping her hair into her eyes.

“Not that one! There’s nowhere to go from there,” he shouted.

She recoiled and glanced up to see him staring down at her with an intensity that told her he didn’t think she’d make it.

“You’re right…you—you might want to go the other way.” She laughed as she clung to the mountain.

The wind howled through the canyon below. “You can do it,” he said. “Just be careful. Those boots are too big for you.”

She should’ve given them back. He was going to need them.

A dusting of snow fell on her as he moved. “One handhold at a time, okay?”

“I’ve got it,” she breathed but she doubted he could hear. She was talking to herself. She had to make a small leap and hope she could reach the ledge. It was the only way to progress; she couldn’t stay where she was. Her strength was running out.

Concentrate. Almost there… With a deep breath, she jumped.

She might’ve made it. Her fingers touched the edge of the rock, but before she could grab hold and pull herself up, a gust of wind made her coat balloon like an umbrella, throwing her off balance just enough that she grasped nothing but air.

MAXIM HAD NEVER FELT more helpless in his life. As Adelaide fell, she didn’t scream. She didn’t thrash around. She just slipped down the mountain and out of sight.

God, she even died with dignity.

He clenched his fists, hoping and waiting for some sign that he was wrong, that she was still alive. But he heard nothing except the words he’d spoken earlier, rattling clumsily in his head: I’m not so impressed with what you’ve got that I can’t forget about it… It could’ve been anyone in that cave.