Ice Man Page 12

  “Yes.” She cried now, huge sobs shaking her even as she smiled at him.

  “I tell you I’m dying and you laugh. I say I love you and you cry. I’ll never understand you, woman.”

  * * * * *

  Allie packed their bag, Kell sitting on the foot of her bed watching. Doug had been as good as his word, and his friend, a lawyer in Toronto, had come almost right away. The lawyer specialized in human rights, and she’d immediately drafted an appeal to the Canadian government for Kell for political asylum. In the meantime, the Inuit granted him citizenship. He had his own passport now. The best thing about that had been putting his date of birth as ‘The Year of the Swans,’ 390 BC.

  The worst thing about it was that Allie had to go to court and face charges. The United States Army had arrested her for theft and vandalism, as well as breach of contract. She’d made a huge dent in her savings and she’d lost her job, but as she looked at Kell, she knew it had been worth it.

  Kell was free. The US Army had no claim on his person whatsoever, as the lawyer pointed out. He had never signed any contract to be anyone’s guinea pig, and the bills they sent him for medical treatment were dismissed on the same grounds. The Russians who had sold his body to the US Army were no more responsible--their contract had stipulated one frozen cadaver. Kell obviously was no cadaver.

  As far as recovering the helicopter--the army sent trucks and winches, and managed to salvage part of the wreckage, but the other body was not recovered. As Allie had speculated, the pond was a sinkhole and dropped nearly straight down for over a hundred feet.

  The army had also taken the man Kell had saved into their care. His name was Fred Grafferty, and he’d insisted on thanking Kell in person. The missing man, a certain Bruce Steele, had never been found. His body had vanished somewhere in the depths of the partially frozen sinkhole.

  “Kell!” Doug stuck his head in the door, a wide grin on his face. “Guess what! You’ve been invited to speak at the Toronto cultural center, all expenses paid, chic hotel and everything. I just got the fax from your lawyer. Television and all. You’re official, man! You’re going to be a star!”

  Kell looked at Allie. His English was still limited to terms about cars, guns, food, and some swear words so far. He could ask for chocolate and coffee, and tell Doug his truck was cool, but this was beyond him.

  Allie raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to be a very wealthy man, Kell. Your lawyer will make sure you get paid for your appearances, and several television programs want to feature you. You’re booked solid for years to come, all over the world.”

  Kell looked at her from beneath lowered lashes. “So why do you look so unhappy, Allie?”

  Startled, she put the tee shirt down she’d been folding and rubbed her forehead. She’d been trying to act happy for Kell, but he saw right through her.

  “Tell me.” He didn’t ask, he ordered.

  “You haven’t seen very many other women…” She had no idea how to explain the knots of jealousy in her chest. When he saw the city women and compared them to her--he’d see how small and uninteresting she really was.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Other women? Allie, do you think I seek another woman?” He started to chuckle, then saw her expression and stopped. Reaching out, he caught her wrist and drew her to him. “Allie of the flame-colored tresses, Allie of the dimples.” He kissed her and sat her on his knee. “I have no interest in other women. Especially the emaciated ones your culture seems to worship.” He pinched her nipple and she uttered a squeak of surprise.

  “Kell!” Relief flooded her. He wasn’t saying that just to make her feel better. He looked at her with a spark of humor in his eyes.

  “I have a plan. I wanted to talk to you about it, so listen, woman.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his chin on her shoulder. “With my wealth, I plan to buy land here in the north. I need to spend time here, for it is my element. You need me when you are with me here. I protect you and care for you. Here, I am your survival and you need me. But we must spend time in your world too. And there, you protect me and guide me. In my mind, ours is the perfect partnership. Each of us has what the other needs.” He paused and looked deeply into her eyes. “Our children will have the best of both worlds.”

  Allie’s heart pounded and she felt tears prick her eyes. “Oh Kell, you are wonderful.”

  He grinned. “I know.” Then he grew serious again. “Allie, when I woke up in this world, I felt as if my very soul had vanished. As if my life had turned to the dust of time and I had nothing to look forward to, as if all I cared for was behind me. You taught me to live again. You gave me back the will to live, the need to laugh, and to love again. You are the woman I choose above all others. Will you be my heart-mate, Allie, and marry me at the spring solstice?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation. She kissed him, her lips lingering on his. Then a thought struck her and a shiver ran down her spine. She hated flying. Hopefully Kell wouldn’t be too terrified.

  * * * * *

  “This is incredible. Look Allie, look! Why are you shaking? Take your hands away from your eyes. The houses are all tiny.” Kell couldn’t understand why Allie trembled so much. His whole being sang with a sort of fierce, wild joy as the plane took off. As the ground dropped away, he’d stared, incredulous, thrilled beyond measure. Man could fly!

  Allie gripped his arm so tightly it hurt. “I hate flying,” she said, her teeth chattering.

  Kell frowned. How strange. Forever had man stared into the sky and dreamt of flying. He tapped her shoulder. “Look, there is a little farm, and the cows are the size of ants!”

  “Leave me alone!” She cowered in her chair, hands over her eyes.

  Perplexed, he looked around. Were all the voyagers so timid? The section of the plane they were in was nearly empty. Allie had called it ‘first class’. He twisted around to look behind them. No, one man read his journal, a woman sipped a glass of water, and another woman dozed, a blanket on her lap. He looked, and found a blanket on the seat next to him. Dusk had fallen, and the inside of the plane was dark, with only small pinpoints of light coming from the ceiling. He found it strangely restful.

  “I know what to do,” he whispered. He draped the blanket over Allie’s lap, then he slipped to the floor and ducked under the blanket. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed. Allie stiffened, but he pushed her knees apart and hooked his fingers into her underpants.

  They were so silky and lacy--he loved to touch them. Even more he loved to touch Allie’s soft skin and her sex, and he tugged her underwear off before she could reach under the blanket and grab his wrist.

  “Stop!” she whispered.

  “Hush, woman!” He pushed her knees further apart and admired the soft auburn curls framing her pink sex. His fingers stroked her thighs, teasing, getting close to her labia then darting away. Soon she opened her legs, arched her hips, and uttered a soft, plaintive moan.

  Moisture gathered in her coral folds, and he dipped his finger into her sex, watching as it swelled and darkened. He moved higher, pressing his mouth to her cunt and finding her clit with his tongue. As her clit stiffened, so did his cock, growing heavy and pressing against his pants. Her musky scent filled his nostrils, exciting him even more.

  His cock ached, and he reached down to adjust his pants. Allie groaned and pressed closer to his mouth, her juices wetting his chin. Kell felt like groaning too. In a minute he’d explode. He wanted to plunge his cock into Allie’s sex and satisfy them both, but he knew her society had taboos against sex in public places. Even in the solstice festivals, there were no more orgies.

  He tried to imagine a solstice without an orgy, to calm his raging need, but all he could think of was rolling over and over in long, fragrant grass with Allie naked in his arms, his cock wedged tightly into her cunt, while the hot sun rays of the summer solstice covered their bodies like warm honey.

  Speaking of honey… He kept his head down and let his tongue tickle and tease her clit until it throbb
ed. Sliding one, then two fingers into her passage, he found it wet and swollen. Her flesh gripped his fingers and a quiver ran through her body. A flood of heat surged through her and she reached down and grabbed his hands, pushing them further into her body. Her hips rose and fell, and suddenly she pushed him away and got up.

  Dazed, Kell peeled the blanket off and stared at her. Eyes bright, face flushed, Allie pointed to a door. “Meet me in there.”

  She walked a bit unsteadily to the door and slipped inside. Kell glanced around. No one paid them any attention. Hiding his erection with his hands, he got to his feet and went to the door and pushed it open.

  Allie locked the door behind him and before he could say anything, she grabbed him and kissed him hungrily. Her heart pounded against his chest, and her nipples hardened into twin pebbles. He unbuttoned her blouse and pulled her lacy bra off her shoulders. With a muffled groan he took her nipple in his mouth and tugged at it.

  Allie unzipped his pants and pushed them off his hips, freeing his hard cock. As her hands wrapped around it, he thrust, his need making him gasp for breath. The counter behind her seemed the right height. He lifted Allie and set her on it, parting her knees and, taking his cock, guiding it into her tight passage.

  The vibrations from the plane ran through his body, and he felt them as he drove into Allie’s cunt, his cock slipping and sliding into her slick flesh. Her hot, velvety passage squeezed his cock and he felt his need mounting as his balls contracted.

  He buried his face into Allie’s shoulder and a harsh cry tore from his throat as his seed shot from him. Grasping Allie’s waist tightly, he held her as close as he could while his hips drove his cock into her. She uttered a cry and tremors ran through her body.

  Then a strange dinging sounded and a woman’s voice came from behind him. Kell whirled around, expecting to see someone, but the voice came from one of those things called a speaker. He sighed and nuzzled Allie’s breast.

  “We have to go sit down, we’re about to land,” she said.

  Kell kissed her. “Here, let me help you down.” He loved how the faucets worked in modern bathrooms, and he quickly washed himself, and he insisted on washing Allie, although it got him hard again. Pressing his cock down and trying to make improvements in the way his pants fit, he made his way back to his seat. Allie followed a minute later.

  He stared out the window as they landed, while Allie clutched at his arm and chanted prayers. Some things never changed, he mused, as the plane touched down. The stewardess had asked them if they’d enjoyed their flight and they couldn’t help laughing.

  Epilogue

  Steele heard his heart beating first. Softly, then louder, until he suddenly realized what the sound was and his eyes flew open.

  He looked around. White walls, large windows, floods of light and chrome machines he’d never seen glittering beneath the lamps. A hospital? He tried to think. He’d never been sick a day in his life. But what life? Who was he? He closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts.

  Nothing. Or wait…a fireplace. A cheerful fire, steaks grilling on the coals, and a man he didn’t recognize handing him a beer. A beer. He knew that word. Beer, steaks, man…Okay, he’d made some progress.

  He opened his eyes again. He lay in a bed, and for some reason, his arms and legs had been fastened to the bed so that he couldn’t move. He pulled gently, then harder, trying to tug himself free. The effort caused him pain and sweat broke out on his brow.

  “Is anyone here?” he called out. His voice sounded rusty and cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway and the door slid upwards. He blinked. Then someone stepped in the doorway and his breath caught in his throat. A woman with long, flame-red hair and delicate seashell coloring walked up to him. She looked down at him, and her dark, blue eyes seemed filled with gentle compassion.

  “You are awake. That’s good. Don’t panic please, nothing will hurt you here.” She spoke in a soft murmur.

  “Where am I?” He wanted to get up and move around. His body felt as stiff as a wooden board.

  “You are at Tazi Prime. We brought you here when we discovered you were still alive. When your heart started to beat, everyone was terribly relieved.” She cocked her head. “Shall I take your restraints off? We put them on so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

  “Please.” Relief flooded through him, although he hadn’t understood half of what she’d said. What hospital was Tazi Prime? He’d never heard of it. She touched his fetters and they disappeared. Neat trick that. He swallowed hard. The idea he might be dreaming occurred to him.

  “You are free to walk around this room. Please do not leave, as you will need a great deal of re-education and your doctors will be here in a little while to speak to you and answer your questions.”

  He rubbed his head. “Look, uh…I’m sorry, where did you say I am?”

  She smiled gravely. “Tazi Prime. It’s a state-of-the-art recovery station and hospital.” She tossed her long hair back and smiled at him, her blue eyes twinkling.

  “Do you know my name?” Nothing she said made sense, and his memories seemed locked in a small room with a can of beer.

  “Your name is Bruce Steele. You are thirty-two years old and you are in peak physical condition thanks to the amazing properties of cryogenics and our technology.” Her smile widened. “Does that help you?”

  Bruce Steele. Steele. He nodded. Steele, he went by that name. A flood of memories assailed him, knocking him back on the bed. His head slammed into the pillow as visions flashed in his mind. The last image took place in a helicopter. The snow, the landing, the jolt and sudden fear…the deep darkness and then nothing.

  Steele lay on his bed, his heart pounding as if he’d just run the mile. He’d died. No, he’d been frozen in that deep lake. He knew what the word cryogenics meant. Deep, ice-induced sleep. How long had he slept? Tazi Prime? He’d never heard of that hospital. That should give him a clue. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.

  The woman bent over his bed, her expression worried. “I’m sorry. I was supposed to wear a necklace with a small cross on it. The anthropologist said it would reassure you. Shall I put it on?”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  She smiled broadly. “Excellent question! Your mental facilities are intact and soon…”

  Steele caught her wrist in his hand. “Just answer the question.”

  A flash of hurt surprise crossed her face. She sighed and said, “You have been ‘asleep’ as you call it, for six thousand and thirteen years, five months, six days and…” she glanced at her watch, “twelve hours and fifteen seconds.”

  Samantha Winston

  Samantha Winston also writes books under the name of Jennifer Macaire. She has always been an iconoclast of sorts, willing to break everything and start anew. Rules are no exception. For her, rules in art and literature are limits, and limits can’t be set on things like love, passion and imagination. Leonardo daVinci knew the human body perfectly, yet he would change the shape, and even the number of muscles in a torso or arms, to make his paintings seem more lifelike and vital.

  She uses the rules of writing in order to break them, stretching the boundaries of imagination to create characters and worlds that don’t fit into any mold. She takes preconceived notions about genres and shatters them. She hopes that her books will be part of your life, good friends you reach for when you need a smile, a sigh, or even a tear.

  You can visit her on the web at www.samanthawinston.com or email her at Samantha_Winston@hotmail.com.

  * * * * *

  Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

  Stranded

  by Victoria Michaels

  Coming Soon from Loose Id

  Stranded

  She’d been rescued by Tarzan.

  Alex blinked up at her savior. He wore only a strip of brown hide around his narrow hips, cupping a really interesting set of bulges she�
�d love to unwrap. Luckily, he had the kind of body that could pull off an outfit like that. Shoulders easily twice the width of hers, biceps the size of coconuts, and a six pack that made her want to purr, It’s Miller Time! His legs were long and muscular, giving her the impression he’d easily catch anything dumb enough to run away. Not that she had any intention whatsoever of going anywhere.

  And his face--well, he definitely didn’t look anything like the parade of pretty boys Mama assembled for her approval every time she went back home.

  First, of course, there was the long, blond hair that lay in wet tangles across those quarterback shoulders. Daddy wouldn’t have let him in the house with that hair. Yet he looked intensely masculine, with a regally Roman nose and broad, high cheekbones. The effect was heightened by the broad jaw and square chin that gave him the look of a heavyweight boxer--or possibly a hit man. His face was saved from outright brutality by a sensual, well-shaped mouth and smoky gray eyes. Judging by the hungry heat in his gaze, it was for damn sure he wasn’t gay. That wasn’t always a given with Mama’s dinner guests, whether Virginia Kenyon realized it or not.