Page 6 of Stuck with My Bossy Protector

With a sharp breath, Noah bangs a fist on the dashboard. He grasps the yoke and glances at me, his dark eyes steely with grim resolve. “Hold on,” he orders tersely before gripping the controls tighter.

Just then, a massive gust of wind slams into us, sending the plane into a violent roll to one side. My heart pounds wildly as I manage to catch my camera bag before it can fly off my lap and hit him. Noah’s strong fingers dance over the control panel while working the yoke with precise movements, trying to level us.

“Are we going down?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. The look on his face is one of fear and irritation. It was the wrong question.

“No,” he hisses.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to calm my racing pulse. I have faced lions, tigers, and bears. I’ve been stranded in the desert and lost at sea. I can live through this. My life is always about pushing the limits. I am the photographer who goes into the wild armed with nothing but a camera. I’m not going to freak out over a snowstorm. I reassure myself that I’m in the hands of what appears to be a competent pilot.

When I open them again, the view is the same. Swirling snowflakes come at us like bullets, and the world outside is consumed by roiling white chaos. The plane judders and lurches left and right hard enough that I bite my tongue. Noah leans forward, peering into the blizzard as he guides the plane through the storm. The sight of him so focused and calm jars me out of my own panic.

I was wrong about him.

“I’m sorry,” I say, louder than necessary due to the continued crackle on the headset.

He jerks his gaze off the windshield to look at me, clearly startled by my unexpected apology.

“For what?” he grunts.

“For misjudging you,” I confess. “And for being late. I should have canceled when my flight was delayed. I thought I could make it earlier. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t apologize to clear your conscience because you think we’re about to die,” he growls. “We’re not going to die.”

“I wasn’t.”

Was I?

Noah’s voice snaps me back. “I’ve got to put the plane down. Either we land on our terms, or Mother Nature will take us down.”

His words chill me more than the storm outside. “How far are we from the cabin?”

“About five miles, maybe less,” he replies firmly. “But I don’t know for sure. If you haven’t noticed, it’s a little hard to see, and my instruments are all over the place.”

“Shouldn’t we try to land as close as possible?” I ask.

“It’s not a question of where, Mia. We are landing now. Where the cabin is doesn’t matter. I don’t want to crash. I can choose to land now, or this storm is going to choose it for me. I’m not interested in slamming into the earth and bursting into flames.”

I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “Okay. Just get us down safely.”

He nods and angles the plane down. It bucks and shudders as he fights to keep it level. I grip the armrests, every muscle tensed as I prepare for what’s to come.

My mind starts going through a checklist. My friend, Jenny, has a copy of my will. Not that I have anything worth very much, but profits from my photos will go to the World Wildlife Fund. Even if we survive the landing, I have no idea what comes next. The only person who knows where I am is Eric. I’m supposed to meet him at his cabin. I didn’t tell anyone about my plans because I wanted to escape Carter. No one is going to come looking for me.

The ground rushes up to meet us faster than I expected. We’re descending rapidly, the snow-covered landscape coming into sharper focus. I can see the treetops swaying violently in the wind. Noah is muttering under his breath, making minor adjustments, trying to find a clearing.

“Oh, God,” I whimper. This is as close to death as I’ve ever been. Closer than I ever want to be. My stomach is in knots. My life is very literally flashing before my eyes. I don’t know what’s coming, but I hope it doesn’t hurt. I pray for a quick, painless death.

“There!” he shouts, pointing to a small open space among the trees. “Hold on tight! We’re going to hit hard!”

I brace myself, squeezing my eyes shut as we descend. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I came here to get away from the man who was intent on killing me just to die in a plane crash? But at least it wouldn’t be at Carter’s hands. I know he’d want to make me suffer. There are some things worse than death.

The plane hits the ground with a bone-jarring thud, bouncing once before sliding across the snow and finally coming to a halt. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I blink several times, trying to decide if I’m alive or dead.

“Are you okay?” Noah asks, his voice surprisingly calm.

---