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The Unlikely Pair
Author: Jax Calder
Series: Unlikely Dilemmas, #2
Publication date: August 7th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
What happens when you find yourself stranded in the wilderness with your political enemy?
Getting stranded in the freezing wilderness with my archenemy wasn’t on today’s to-do list. But somehow, that’s where I’ve ended up.
Harry Matheson, my political rival, has always been smarmy, arrogant, and entitled. It figures that even this plane crash has barely ruffled his well-coiffed hair.
It’s all fine, though, because our pilot has gone to call for help and rescue should be imminent.
Fast forward a few frigid hours…
Umm…maybe it’s not so fine, because it appears our pilot is part of an international terrorist group intent on kidnapping us.
Now Harry and I have to flee through the wilderness—together.
Unfortunately, being adept at political debates and parliamentary procedures doesn’t exactly prepare you for the basics of finding food, keeping warm, and evading the local wildlife while playing high-stakes hide-and-seek with armed terrorists.
The only way Harry and I have any hope of surviving is to stick together.
The problem is, the line separating hate and love has begun to blur, and the last thing I need is to fall for my enemy.
The Unlikely Pair is an enemies-to-lovers romance featuring a romp through the political wilderness where hearts, quite literally, go off the beaten path.
an excerpt
Waking up to Harry Matheson staring at me was surreal.
It took me a moment to remember exactly why Harry’s face was in my field of vision. For a second, I thought…well, let’s just say my mind had gone to a horror movie scenario where Past Toby had shown a remarkable lack of judgment and taste.
I was almost relieved when I remembered we’d been in a plane crash and were currently being hunted by armed terrorists.
Now, watching Harry stalk away from me, his suit still looking miraculously unruffled, I try not to replay how it felt to have Harry’s arms around me.
I content myself with observing his hair, which really does look like tiny pixies have spent the night using it as a cornfield to create a maze in.
Who knew Harry’s hair was naturally like that? That all it needs is the absence of hair product to be able to roam loose and untamed?
My gaze drifts from his hair to the rest of him.
Harry Matheson is a good-looking guy. As much as I dislike him, I can’t deny his aesthetic appeal.
He’s an inch taller than me, lean and haughty with it like his elegant posture reinforces his aristocratic background. Harry wasn’t bred to work in the fields or coal mines like my ancestors. He was bred to watch polo matches and sit sipping gin and tonic on the patio while his tenant farmers brought in the crops.
His breeding is in every elegant line of his body.
Asleep, Harry was somehow more tolerable.
I guess everyone is at their most vulnerable when they’re sleeping, and there was the way his body instinctively curled into mine whenever I shifted that left an unsettled feeling inside me. Maybe it was simply the contrast between his sleeping form and the untouchable persona Harry has when he’s awake.
God. I’ve spent the last ten minutes trudging through the Scandinavian forest thinking about Harry Matheson. Definitely not at all what I expected I’d be doing twenty-four hours ago.
I force my brain to think about other, more pleasant things. Like the fact my stomach is growling in protest due to having only fed it a single energy bar this morning. It feels like it’s threatening to digest itself, along with some of my other vital organs, if I don’t sufficiently satisfy it soon. At least we stumble across another stream to refill our water bottles, so thirst isn’t added to our list of steadily growing problems.
The minutes slip into monotonous dreariness. The early sunshine fades as clouds take over the sky.
Hunger continues to gnaw on my stomach, but I don’t say anything to Harry.
We reach a small stream, and Harry assesses the situation with a critical eye. “I believe the most efficient way to cross would be to jump.”
I eye the distance skeptically. “Are you sure? It looks quite wide.”
Harry doesn’t waste any time channeling his inner Olympian and leaps across it in a single bound.
But when I attempt, it becomes quickly apparent I lack Harry’s gazelle-like grace. I only manage to get one foot on the opposite bank before I start pinwheeling my arms like a demented windmill, my balance deserting me entirely.
Just as I’m preparing to take an impromptu bath, a strong hand grabs my arm, yanking me forward. I slam into something solid and warm, and suddenly, I’m tangled up with Harry bloody Matheson, both of us tumbling onto the mossy ground in a graceless heap.
For a moment, we lie there, my body draped over his like a human blanket, every inch pressed against him. I lift my head and find myself nose-to-nose with Harry, close enough to count every stupidly long eyelash framing those bright-blue eyes.
Harry stares back at me. For a split second, something hot and hungry flares in his gaze, making my breath catch.
But then he’s shoving me off him, scrambling to his feet like he’s been scalded.
I guess when he doesn’t need my warmth, Harry doesn’t want me touching him.
He avoids my gaze, dusting off his trousers with quick, jerky movements.
“Well, that was certainly an inelegant way to cross a stream,” he says.
“I apologize. We can’t all be as naturally gifted at leaping around the forest as you are, Harry. Some of us are just mere mortals,” I say as I climb to my feet slowly, removing a few errant pine needles clinging to my jacket.
He lifts his gaze to mine, and our eyes catch on each other for a second before he turns and stalks off through the forest.
I stumble after him, my mind churning.
What the hell was that?
Did I imagine the flare of heat in his eyes? Am I starting to completely lose my mind?
There’s no way Harry Matheson just looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Unless perhaps he’s reached that point of extreme hunger where he’s evaluating cannibalism as an option. Maybe that look just meant he’s mentally seasoning me with wild herbs.
Anyway, I have more important things to worry about right now.
Like surviving.
Jax’s stories are all about light-hearted conversations and deeply-felt connections. She loves exploring exactly why two characters are the only ones who’ll make the other truly happy, and the journey they take to reach their happily-ever-after.
Jax lives in New Zealand and is a rabid sports fan, a hiking enthusiast and has a slightly unhealthy addiction to nature documentaries. As an extrovert who spends way too much time in her own head, she loves to connect with readers. Join her Facebook group Jax’s Crew (www.facebook.com/groups/jaxcaldercrew) for bonus stories plus exclusive excerpts from her upcoming books.
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