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We’ll work something out.”
    “Thanks.”
    Max had already decided that he needed to keep up his workouts even without the Hunter Hurricanes. He figured he’d work out on his own, and if that didn’t do the trick, he’d hire some kids from a local hockey team to practice with him. They’d get free ice time and he’d get to keep up his skills and fitness level. Everyone would be happy.
    In the meantime, he started flying for Polar Air, getting to know the rest of the pilots, learning about each of the five aircrafts.
    And, as promised, within three days, he had a place to live right on the Polar Air site. The caretaker’s cottage was a small log cabin built of cedar. There was a bedroom, a living area, a kitchen, a bathroom with shower and a porch out front.
    It looked as though it had been built in the ’50s and any updating had been minor. However, there was cable and Wi-Fi and the place came furnished. Max knew there were aspects of his own home he was going to miss, like his in-home gym, infrared sauna and top-of-the-line electronics. But he’d never been a man who needed luxury. He suspected he’d do just fine in his little cottage.
    When Ted called him at the end of the week, he said, “I’ve got Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10:00 p.m. open. You get the ice for an hour.”
    “That’s fantastic. Thanks.”
    “There’s one other hockey player who will be on the rink at that time. I figure you can do drills together or skate around each other or something.”
    “Yeah. Sure. Sounds good.” He hoped the other guy was as good as he was. Maybe they could work together, spur each other on.
    Maybe even have a beer together once in a while.
    * * *
    M AX FELL INTO A routine over the next few weeks. There were twelve pilots altogether. The planes, a fleet of Beavers and Cessnas, serviced fishing lodges and dropped mail, supplies and parts to mining and logging operations. They also transported hunters and hikers and geologists and photographers and anybody who wanted to fly someplace in Alaska.
    Lynette was often on duty at the office. But Claire made sure she was around regularly as well. Max saw how protective she was of her grandmother while trying not to let it show to anyone, least of all to Lynette.
    Max was the perfect employee, efficient, respectful, always willing. Claire was wary around him, a little jumpy, he suspected because of the kisses they’d shared and the sizzle that burned the air between them whenever they were together. He wasn’t a man who would ever regret kissing a beautiful woman, but he admitted to himself that having tasted her it was impossible not to want more.
    However, he knew the next move would be up to her, so he got on with his job and tried to keep his fantasies about Claire to a respectable minimum.
    He liked the work. Enjoyed flying terrain he wasn’t familiar with. Liked the other pilots, though he didn’t want to get too close to them. He knew something they didn’t: that he’d likely own the company they worked for at some point in the near future. He didn’t want to earn their contempt by pretending to be one of them when it was only temporary.
    He kept in touch with his assistant daily, but Varo Enterprises was running as smoothly as he’d expected it would.
    And he was having fun. He loved turnarounds. Didn’t matter to him that this was a much smaller company than most he’d worked on recently. He liked being on the ground—and in the air—seeing the potential.
    What he didn’t like was seeing the crease between Claire’s brows. He suspected she hadn’t known about the mortgage being called until recently. He knew that with the purchase price he had in mind for Polar Air she and her grandmother would be able to pay off the mortgages and still have enough left over for a decent life. But he didn’t want to tell her who he was. Not yet. If he decided not to buy Polar Air he didn’t want her to be disappointed.
    So he kept his mouth shut and his eyes