“If you agree, we can consider it a repayment for the phone you drowned,” he said with a trace of humor.
He’d know her less than a day, but he’d had already honed in on her sense of honor. “Go ahead.”
He wrapped his hand around the handle of her suitcase. “I have to head back to Atlanta and I’d like you to keep me company on the way back.”
Decision time. Shell out money she couldn’t afford or spend three hours with a man who impaired her judgment in a way alcohol never could. He stepped closer so the hard muscles of his chest were all she could see. Abby swallowed. “You certainly know how to work a girl’s rock-and-hard-place dilemma to your advantage.”
His eyes nailed into her. “I most certainly do.”
Dear Lord, what was she about to do?
“All right, I’m in,” she laughed.
Before she could rethink her decision, he’d snagged her luggage and was wheeling it away from the check-in desk. The man moved like a cheetah on a mission, and even her long legs had to trot to keep up. She paused at a set of double doors marked: chartered departures. Nervous anticipation had her heart keeping a staccato beat. People in her world rarely traveled outside The States, and they never chartered their own planes.
“Got your passport handy?” he asked. His broad grin suggestion they were embarking on a grand adventure. She envied him his laisser-faire take on life. He didn’t even seem bothered by their kiss last night. Or the aftermath. Well, she’d just have to take a page from his playbook. If he could act like their kiss had never happened, she could too.
She dug in her purse and extracted the blue booklet, waving it for him to see. “Right here.”
Grant nodded a quick response and led her to the customs queue. While waiting their turn, Abby stole sideways glances at him. The snug fitting T-shirt and jeans he wore looked every bit as good on him as the tux had. Better in fact, since it looked more like him than the suit. From the corner of her eye she saw a day’s growth of beard shadow his jaw, softening its hard edge. Her fingers itched to run over the whiskers, to feel their roughness.
The problem with pretending nothing had happened was not only had something happened, it continued to happen. She was attracted to him. Not in a “wow, that’s a good-looking man” kind a way, but in a way that made her feel as if she was losing control. At least there’d be other passengers to distract her.
She’d been so lost in her own thoughts, the customs and immigration process passed with barely a blip on her radar screen. Once again she was trailing along behind him as his long legs chewed up the carpet. He paused at a set of glass doors, holding them open for her. “Plane’s this way.”
Then they were out in the bright light and warm breeze of the Caribbean. If it weren’t for her constant worry of doing something inappropriate with him, the experience might have been fun.
A line of twin engine planes edging the runway brought her crashing back to reality. These machines were too small to send out over the open ocean. In fact, she’d driven bigger cars. Abby could feel the icy prick of anxiety climb up her spine and take root in her soul. Talk about jumping from the frying pan and into the fire. Where was a tranquilizer when she needed one? One good thing about this, if she was worried about dying, she needn’t think about kissing Grant again.
As he neared one of the larger examples of the flying death machines, she noticed a small smile creep to the corners of his mouth. This wasn’t simply another machine to him. This was his baby. The tri colors, white, gold, and black, gave the jet a sleek, majestic edge the white and primary colored planes lacked. She liked it based solely on the fact it looked big enough to stay aloft for several hundred miles.
Grant left her side and began examining one of the wings. The way he ran his hands over the edge was more than pride of ownership; he examined it as if it were a race horse headed to the track. “Doesn’t the pilot usually do that?” she asked.
“Yes, he does,” he stated, another of his impish grins creasing his face.
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to sound like a know-it-all, but thankfully he didn’t seem to take offense at her question. If fact, between the inspection he was giving his baby and the way he kept looking back at her, he seemed to be having the time of his life.
She was actually doing all right herself. The news he’d be piloting the plane settled her nerves. If he was in the cockpit and she was in the cabin, perhaps she could make it through the flight without doing something idiotic.
While he performed his pre-flight, she performed a little subtle observation of her own. From the moment he moved from her side, his full focus was on the plane. From nose to tail nothing escaped his scrutiny. She knew what the plane must be feeling. Every time he looked at her it was as if he could see her every nuance. Perhaps knowing he’d looked her over and like what he saw was what caused her to behave so impulsively. No, she corrected herself. She’d never pushed the blame for her actions on to others before, and she wasn’t going to start now.
Finally, after he’d crawled under the plane’s belly and even kicked the tires, he circled back to her. “She’s ready to go,” he stated, scooping up their luggage.
They moved to the door of the plane and stopped. His arms were full, but the thoughts of opening the door had her arms frozen by her side. Not only because she might break something, but once the door was open there was no going back.
“Just pop the latch and the door will open,” he instructed, his voice sounding eager. For him taking to the air was a wonderful excitement, not the doomsday experience she was making this out to be.
Shaking herself mentally, she reached out and pulled the lever. The door seemed to come alive under her hand. It swung free and the steps descended into place smoothly.
“Better let me go in first,” he said, nudging her hip with his.
“Sorry.” She moved aside, feeling a little stupid to have been standing in the way while he had an armload of bags.
She followed him up the stairs and got an eyeful of how the rich and famous traveled. Leather covered every surface that wasn’t done in burl wood or chrome. LED lights twinkled from above giving the cabin the look of a luxury spaceship. She took several breaths to calm her nerves. It even bore that lucious new car smell. “Wow,” she whispered. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been in.”
He stowed their luggage in an overhead compartment and turned to her. “Thanks.” Then he pointed to a small galley lined with crystal barware. “Can I offer you a diet soda or bottled water?”
“I’m good, thanks,” she murmured as she continued to take in the well-appointed interior. To her right were six empty recliner-sized chairs. “Where are the other passengers sitting? I don’t want to take your mom’s seat or anything.”
He shook his head and shot her a lopsided grin that revealed a dimple. “It’s just us.” He thumbed in the direction of the cockpit. “You’re sitting up front to keep me company.”
What the heck?
Abby blinked a couple times while her brain played catch up. Three hours hemmed in with Fly Boy. But at this point what could she do? With a glance heavenward, she followed him as he inched his way through the small port and into the cockpit.
Even through her dismay at the situation she’d gotten herself into, she couldn’t help but notice how he nimbly contorted his body to fit in the tight quarters. This was a man who knew how to make his body do what he wanted it to.
Abby followed his example and eased her way into the co-pilot’s seat. Her eyes grew wide as she saw a bank of instruments and yoke a mere two inches from her lap. She wouldn’t have to worry about keeping her hands off Grant. She’d be trying to not touch the instruments. Abby tucked her hands under her legs.
Grant reached over to pat her knee. “Relax. This will be the ride of your life.”
His words weren’t making her feel any better. One wrong move and it would all be over. “What if I touch something?” she squeaked.
“Don’t worry so much. Relax and enjoy the ride.” Still grinning, he eased over her body. His eyes bored into hers and his lips were no more than an inch from where they’d been last night. She could even feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell his aftershave. She tensed, waiting for him to kiss her again. His hands moved forward, and she licked her lips.
“Here, let me fasten your seatbelt for you.”
She bit back a groan. Forget something for anxiety, she needed a pill to curb her overactive imagination. Abby folded her hands in her lap and resolved to at least make an attempt to act normal.
He tightened her seatbelt without seeming to notice her faux pas, then turned to push up a switch guard and flipped a lever. “Let’s wake this baby up,” he drawled.
Abby watched as he fired up the machine. After a few seconds, curiosity about the switches, dials, and the artificial horizon overtook her embarrassment. When he put on his head set and pointed to its mate draped over the yoke in front of her, she quickly put it on, excited to hear what he’d tell her.
“This is your captain speaking.” His voice came alive in her ear. “We’ll be departing the gate in a few minutes, but first I’d like to go over a few safety features. We’ll be flying over water for most of the flight and in the unlikely event of a water landing…you’re completely screwed.”
Abby shoved her fists over her eyes as scenes from one of those old airport disaster movies flashed through her head. There was no way she could take three minutes much less three hours in this aluminum death trap. Her hands trembled as she snatched at the harness, deciding she's be better off getting out of here and taking her chances on a real plane.
His hand on her bare arm stilled her. “I’m sorry.” The amusement bled from his voice. “I was just trying to be funny.”
She cracked her eyes to see if he were making fun of her. Someone like Grant wasn’t afraid of anything. The world was one big adventure. And people like that rarely understood the fear of others.
Instead of mockery she saw compassion tinged with embarrassment. “God, I’m such an ass.” His palm slid down her arm and squeezed her hand. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us. I promise.”
Still too scared to speak, she could only acknowledge his words with a nod. She took several deep breaths and willed her legs to stop trembling. Eventually her heart rate settled to double digits and she turned her attention to the view ahead.
The next several minutes were a rush of garbled instruction from the tower and a series of turns. Then before she realized what was happening, they were barreling down the runway and into the sky.
The sensation of gravity pressing her into the seat caused another wave of fear. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Let me know when it’s over,” she whined. Her heart pounded in her chest till she thought if she looked down her T-shirt would be stained red.
“Look,” he said. “Last chance to see the island.”
She couldn’t let fear keep her from a last glimpse of azure-blue ocean. She cracked her lids as Grant banked the airplane, giving her a wide view. Pressing her hand to the window, she breathed in. “I can almost feel the warmth coming off the waves.”
A chuckle brought her attention to him. “I can’t believe I couldn’t convince you to dive with me. Clearly you have a thing for the water.”
His expression stunned her. Passion, joy, and lust for living shown in his blue eyes. He held her gaze for a pair of heartbeats then turned his attention back to flying. Now that was something she could really fall into—his gaze not the water.
Grant leveled off the jet at thirty thousand feet and engaged the autopilot. Now that the plane wasn’t taking all his attention, he shot Abby a furtive glance to be sure his earlier dumb-ass remarks weren’t still worrying her.
She’d gone from clutching the seat to resting her hands in her lap and although she was watching out the windscreen ahead, she didn’t look exactly relaxed. She did however look hot as hell. Her black T-shirt accentuated her fair skin, and the scooped neckline showed off her collar bones and just a hint of cleavage.
Sensing he’d been eyeballing her, her eyes briefly touched on him before hurrying away. Three hours of strained silence and awkward looks were going to feel like an eternity. “Talk to me,” he said. “You’re supposed to be keeping me company.”
She turned to him and a beautiful blush colored her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t want to distract you while you were flying the plane.”
He patted the glare shield. “Autopilot,” he explained. “While I can’t go to the galley and fix you a sandwich, I’m all yours till time to land.”
She stared at her hands, lacing and unlacing them. Then she cocked her head. “How long have you been a pilot?”
“Since I was old enough to climb behind the yoke. Why? Are you worried I’ll crash?”
The blush bloomed upward to her hairline. “No, just wondering what got you interested in aviation.”
Though he was proud of how he’d turned his father’s business into a success, he didn’t want to talk about himself. That conversation could be summed up in one sentence: good in business, sucked at relationships. “Tell me about yourself. What drives you to get out of bed in the morning?”
The fire he’d noticed in her eyes yesterday was back. “My students. I love it when the light bulb goes off.”
School had never been one of his favorite topics, but listening to the excitement in her voice was like rain on dry earth. He had to keep her talking. “My sister said you were a professional dancer? How long were you in New York?”
Her laugh sounded like bells. “Katie was being generous. My dancing career lasted about a year.”
“Did something go wrong like an injury to make you stop?”
She dropped her gaze. “Something like that.”
A memory played of Abby’s confident, joyous expression as she danced. “Must be tough. I’d hate it if I couldn’t do what I love.”
She shrugged. “I adjusted. Being a professional dancer doesn’t lend itself to single parenting.” Her hand rested on his knee for a brief moment. “Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching. My students keep me on my toes like ballet never could.”