Animal Instincts (16 page)

“It’ll be fun,” he said. “You’ll see.”

I knew I’d have more fun strapped naked on top of a cab going two miles per hour through downtown traffic.

“Once you’ve flown in a plane like this one, you’ll never want to touch the ground again.”

He didn’t understand. I had to make him understand. The only word to escape my constricting throat, however, was “Please.” The ringing in my ears was so loud now, I could barely hear myself. The desperate plea finally stopped him in his tracks. There was an edge of disconsolateness in my voice this time, along with cold-blooded fear.

He looked down, his eyes filling with concern. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated. And I knew he kept repeating the same phrases to drill them into my mind. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“You’re right, okay, about me being afraid. I—I hate planes,” I whispered. The knuckles clasping my overnight bag turned white with the force of my grip.

“I can see that.” Using the tip of his finger, he lifted my face until our gazes locked. “Want to tell me why?”

Where was my Tigress when I needed her? I bit my lip, hard, the action close to drawing blood.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to kiss you so I can ease the sting your teeth are inflicting.”

Looking away, I said, “It’s not the plane. Not really. It’s the fear of crashing.”

He enfolded me in his arms, causing the ringing to subside. I buried my head in the hollow of his neck. His hands caressed my back, offering comfort. “You’re more likely to be in a car accident than a plane crash.”

“You told me that before, but now I want you to tell that to everyone who’s ever been in a plane crash.”

“Have you ever flown before?”

“Yes. Once.”

“And you didn’t die.”

“No, but the wheels twisted on takeoff and we had to fly around for hours, getting rid of fuel. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“But you did land safely.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“With me as the pilot and having checked the plane myself, nothing bad will happen this time.”

“I—I just can’t. I had to be heavily sedated last time, and even that didn’t stop my panic.”

“It’s okay to be afraid. I’ll be with you. Right beside you the entire ride.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can.” Pulling away, he left one arm draped possessively around my shoulders. He began walking again, slowly this time. I didn’t protest, just let him lead the way. “The best medicine for fear is confrontation.”

Confrontation.
That word made me queasy. Still, I pushed a puff of air past my lips. “You’re right,” I said. “I know you’re right, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing you were wrong.”

He didn’t reply, giving me time to overcome my riotous fears.

“I’ll do it.” I forced myself to say the words. “I will. I’ll do it.”

The hand at my shoulder tightened. “Good girl. Come on,” he said, quickening his pace and forcing me to keep up. “It’s not as bad as you think.” Unfortunately, we had reached the plane. The death trap.

How could something so heavy stay in the air? Small as it was, it looked like it weighed a gazillion pounds, with a heavy white metal body and wide expanse of wings.

“Let me prove how safe it is. You’ll love every second in the air so much you’ll beg me to take you again.”

Not in this lifetime.

The terror I had managed to set aside while snuggled in the crook of his arm reared its ugly head again, stronger than before, mocking my determination to push onward. That terrible ringing erupted in my ears once more, so loud I almost screamed in fright.

Blood rushed from my head, running like ice through my veins. The overnight bag I held fell from my cold, clammy fingers and thumped to the ground. For the space of a heartbeat, the world around me disappeared, replaced by bright, blinking lights. Then the blackened tar beneath my feet shifted, consuming my vision, squelching all hint of light. Why did I feel like I was falling slowly, falling down?

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, everything quiet. I searched through a dark mist for Royce.

“Naomi,” I heard him call. It sounded as if he stood at the end of a long, narrow tunnel. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The heavy shroud around my mind began to recede and the fog clouding my thoughts thinned. Suddenly, I saw Royce. He was staring down at me, his features drawn tight with worry.

Why was he worried? I blinked in confusion. Slowly comprehension dawned. And with it came mortification.

Holy Mother of God, I’d fainted. Never in my life had I done anything so childish. My inner Tigress finally decided to show herself, only to roar in displeasure. Displeasure with me, not Royce.
Weakling,
she said.

“Come on. Talk to me,” Royce said again.

“I’m all right,” I assured him, my voice little more than a whisper.

When I tried to sit up, he gently held me down. “Not yet. You shouldn’t move. I’m calling the paramedics. Hang on.”

“No.” Stronger now, I squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. Really.”

“I don’t believe you.” The anxiety darkening his eyes warmed me. Seeing it made me feel as if a blanket had been placed over my body, heating my flesh, giving me strength. Tentatively, I reached up, touched the side of his cheek with my fingertips.

“I’m not hurt. I promise.”

After a terse nod, he replaced his cell phone in his bag and helped me to my feet. Thankfully, I felt no ill effects from my rendezvous with the ground. I tried to smooth the wrinkles from my slacks.

“We can stay,” he sighed, surprising me.

I brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Damn it.” He jerked a hand down his face. “It was like watching you in slow motion as your knees buckled and you plummeted to the ground. I wasn’t able to do anything except catch you and lower you
the rest of the way.” He massaged his neck. “I’ll get your bag and take you home.”

“No.” The intensity of that one word shocked him, as well as myself, but something had just hit me with the force of a jackhammer. I was acting like the old Naomi, the doormat afraid of the world. I wasn’t that woman anymore, and that meant I had to be strong. “I can do this. I can. It’s time to conquer my fear, just like you said. Besides, my inner Tigress will kill me if I don’t.”

That gave him pause, and he blinked down at me. “Your inner Tigress?”

“That’s right.” A slow smile spread, and I was sure it lit my entire face. “My inner Tigress. She’s fierce and bloodthirsty and brave.”

He spread his fingers over my head, feeling for a bump. “I think you hit your head a little too hard.”

“Careful, or I might have to scratch you to death.”

“I might let you, but it depends on where you want to scratch me,” he muttered. He frowned and shook his head. “I’m taking you home, Naomi. No,” he said when I opened my mouth to protest. “The thought of watching you faint dead away once more makes me shudder. I’ll help you overcome your fear another way.”

“Please, Royce.”

“I said no arguments. That means no pleading, begging, crying or cajoling. And no wetting those luscious lips.”

I planted my fists on my hips, my determination increasing with every second that passed. “Either you
go with me or I pay someone else to take me and go alone. That’s your choice.”

“Damn it, Naomi.” He let out a forceful breath. “How do you feel about riding in a large company jet instead of a small aircraft?”

I mulled it over, then nodded. I could pretend the large jet was a hotel room and hopefully forget I was soaring thousands of feet in the air, ready to crash at—“Uh, much better.”

“My crew can have it ready to go in half an hour if you don’t mind waiting.”

The force of my relief was almost tangible. “But what about you? Do you mind not being the pilot?”

“I mind—I wanted to impress you, but I’ll live through it.”

He hustled me inside an air-conditioned room, then made a quick call.

It didn’t take the thirty minutes he’d predicted. His flight crew had the Gulfstream ready in twenty. And, God help me, I boarded it.

O
NCE INSIDE THE LARGE CRAFT
, Royce gave me a tour. I couldn’t help but gasp at the luxury. A soft, ivory wraparound couch graced the front entrance. A large-screen television was positioned overhead, perfect for viewing from a reclining position.

There was an office fully equipped with chairs, table and drawing board. Next, I entered a bathroom that was larger than mine at home. And last…the bottom of my stomach dropped out. My eyes widened as I took in the bedroom. It had a small, comfortable-
looking mattress and glossy headboard with silk sheets and a soft comforter. The room was used for napping, I was sure, but that didn’t matter to my brain.

I pictured Royce there, naked and beckoning me over with a seductive motion of his finger. I’m pretty sure I spent more time imagining Royce naked than I did anything else. If only I could get paid for fantasizing about him… Oh well. On with the fantasy: His bronzed skin glistened against the soft, white sheets. His entire body was hard. Hot. Ready. He continued to motion me over with a crook of his finger, wicked intent in his eyes.

I gulped.

“Let’s get ready for takeoff.” The real-life Royce placed one hand on my waist, and the contact sent currents of desire down my spine.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My gaze slashed up and collided with his. How could I get so worked up, so quickly?

He sucked in a breath. “Or if you’d rather wait and do other things,” he murmured, “I’m all for that.”

We stayed completely still for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts, thoughts that were too naughty to voice. Thankfully—and with much effort—I collected my wits. This wasn’t the time; this wasn’t the place. Distance. I needed distance. I stepped back, trying to act annoyed, though I was tempted to take what he offered. Always tempted.

“Not on your life,” I managed. “I want to get this flight over with.”

His fiery stare lingered on my lips for a long while. “Too bad. Maybe next time.”

Taking my hand, he led me to the wraparound sofa and latched my seat belt into the proper hook. My body began to tremble. I was careful to keep my expression blank, passive, lest he tried to halt the trip. I
had
to prove to myself that I could do this. That fear didn’t rule me.

“It takes courage to face your fear,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” I was proud of myself, too.

After several minutes, the engines roared to life and the plane jostled, going slowly at first, then picking up speed as it moved down the runway. The captain said something over the speaker. My ears were ringing again, so all I heard was “Mmmm-mm mmmmmmm.”

“If the plane collides with the ocean, there’s a very good chance the sharks will eat me alive.”

“We’re not flying over an ocean. We’re flying over mountains.”

“Even worse! Mountains have bears.” I clutched Royce’s hand and stiffened—if it was possible to become any more rigid than I already was. I looked ahead, knowing my complexion grew greener by the second. Silver lining: green was Royce’s favorite color. I probably seemed like a goddess of beauty to him. “What if the pilot doesn’t see one because the snowcaps look like clouds and he slams us right into it?”

“Then I swear to God I’ll fire him.” Royce clasped
my chin and lowered his head. His lips met mine; his tongue swept inside without waiting for permission.

Hmm, delicious. My fears slowly diminished as thoughts of crashing were replaced with thoughts of sweaty bodies, tangled limbs and gasping pleasure. Royce tasted like pure sin today, hot and masculine with a dash of the forbidden. Maybe his saliva possessed an addictive chemical and that’s why I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

It was possible.

Within minutes, we were soaring through the air. To be honest, I barely noticed that we had taken off. Who cared, anyway? If I died today, it would be with a smile on my face. Royce certainly knew how to kiss.

Oh, did he know how to kiss.

He used his entire body. His hands. His chest. His legs. His masculinity consumed me, making me feel as if his whole existence was centered around me. Maybe it was. What a refreshing change from Richard’s how-far-can-I-get-my-tongue-down-your-throat-before-I-can-get-into-your-pants kisses.

His hand moved to my breast, plumping and kneading. He groaned. I moaned. The sounds traveled over me, heating my blood. How easy it would be for him to shove down my pants and take me, I thought dazedly. How easy…and how wonderful. I spread my legs, about to beg him to touch me there. I ached so, so much.

He suddenly tore away, completely releasing me. His hands fisted at his sides. His breathing was shallow, quick, just like mine.

“One day soon, Naomi, I’m going to show you just how much pleasure I can give you. And neither one of us will be able to walk for a week.”

U
NFORTUNATELY, WE WERE STILL
on the plane half an hour later. Silence stretched between us. It had been like that since our kiss had ended, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why he had pulled away, why he was now ignoring me. Had I done something wrong? Did he know something about the plane that I didn’t?

Fear slowly began to take root in my mind again. I couldn’t fight it. I was soon squeezing my eyes shut, refusing to look out the windows behind or in front of me. Images of blood and death poured through my mind. I jerked completely upright. We were on a path to certain death. Royce remained stiff at my
side. He knew the plane was about to crash, the sick bastard, but didn’t know how to tell me. That was why he was still so tense.

We were going to die! I just knew it. Big breath in. Big breath out. Big breath in. Big breath out. Dizziness assaulted me.

I forced myself to calm down before I had a major panic attack. I tried to meditate, to imagine a tranquil meadow with lush green foliage, just like Jonathan had taught me. It had never worked before, but this time I actually felt a summer breeze caressing my skin like the brush of a feather. A small measure of peace settled over me—until the aircraft careened and rattled. A loud popping sounded.

I immediately lost that peaceful center. My eyelids flew open; I gripped Royce’s forearm, afraid if I didn’t, I would fall out the window and spin out of control as I slid down, down, down to the hard surface of the earth.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We hit an air pocket, that’s all.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, but ruined the “calming” action by trying to unbuckle my seat belt.

Panicked, I glued my hand over his. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you comfortable.”

I slapped at his wrist. “That will never happen if you don’t get your hand off my safety harness.”

“Safety harness, hmm?” He chuckled. “Naomi, if the plane were to plummet—”

I gasped. He zipped his lips, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God.” I couldn’t breathe. Wait. Did I smell smoke? Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod. The plane was plummeting and was about to become a fiery ball.

He nuzzled my neck. I didn’t relax this time. I couldn’t. Everywhere I looked, I saw my own death.

“This worked before,” he said.

“Well, it isn’t working now.”

“There’s no reason to worry,” he said against my ear. “Nothing bad will happen. I promise.”

“How can you promise something like that? Are you psychic?”

“No.”

“Then shut the hell up.”

He did. Probably because I wore an I’ll-eat-you-alive-expression. Happy meadow, happy meadow. Where was my freaking happy meadow?
I’m not going to die,
I chanted.
I’m not going to die.
I had to kill Jonathan first. Surely God would let me live long enough for that.

After a while, I began to calm down again. Tranquil waters, a happy meadow. I was a strong woman and the plane was gliding smoothly through the air.

Royce must have sensed my new state of serenity because he motioned with a tilt of his chin to the window. “Go on,” he said. “Take a peek. This will be like therapy for you.”

I’d had all the therapy I could take, thank you, but knew he was right. It took five long, agonizing minutes to work up the courage to look down—with my heart pounding sporadically in my chest all the while—but I finally managed to do it. I looked.

A gasp escaped me and I squeezed my eyes shut. Opened them. Cars lolled along city roads, reminding me of ants meandering atop a hill. Buildings appeared like little more than specks on the horizon.

I wondered where we were so I could chart a rescue mission in my mind. I didn’t ask, too afraid I’d jinx myself.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, easing back. “I’m cured.”

He chuckled. “While we’ve got this time to ourselves, why don’t you tell me what made you decide to open a party-planning business.”

I knew he was only trying to distract me, but I was perfectly willing to go along with his plan. “Nothing glamorous,” I said. I wiped my sweaty hands on my slacks. “I was never any good at schoolwork. I hated math, hated writing research papers and studying of any kind, but loved all social events. One day I saw an ad in the paper for an assistant planner, and I knew it was the job for me. And since I’d worked at my aunt and uncle’s catering business, it was a good fit.” I sighed. “I was developing a good name for myself just before I left the business for a few years.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I foolishly thought I needed to be available for my husband twenty-four hours a day. Anyway,” I said, not wanting to go down that road, “after my divorce, Kera had taken over the catering business and things just worked themselves out.”

“I’m very glad that they did.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Why fly instruments of death?”

He shrugged. “At first, it wasn’t the planes. I was eight, maybe nine, when my father first took me with him to Powell Aeronautics. I watched the employees jump to do his bidding and knew I’d found my calling. I wanted everyone to take
my
orders.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” I said dryly, though a chuckle underlined my tone.

“After my first time in a cockpit, bossing people around stopped being my first priority.”

“Besides flying planes and bossing people around, what is it that you actually do?”

“Mostly I buy and sell airplanes. My company also sells parts, does title searches and generates daily aeronautic reports. That kind of thing.”

“I can’t imagine having enough money to buy an entire airplane. A seat belt, maybe, but not much else.”

“I always make back double my initial investment, so it’s no hardship.”

Yeah. No hardship. I could hear the buyer/seller interaction now:

Buyer:
You only want a million for the plane?

Seller:
Yeah. I paid four mil, but I just don’t like the thing anymore.

Buyer:
(Chuckles) Well, do you take checks?

No hardship. Yeah, you can bite me.

“Are you purchasing a plane anytime soon?” I asked.

“There’s a SJ30-2 I’ve had my eye on. In fact, you
can fly to Florida with me at the end of the month and check it out.”

“No thanks.” I meant it with every fiber of my being.

A slow grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I might just decide to hold the party in Florida. Then you’d
have
to go.”

“That might put you on my Must Kill list.”

His grin became wicked. “I’d rather be on your Must Seduce list.”

He was. He was the only name on that list, but he
was
on it. Not that I’d admit it out loud. “This is a milestone for me, you know. I don’t even like to stay in a hotel room that has a balcony. I’ve never understood my fear of falling, but I’ve learned to live with it. I’m proud of myself right now. This is the first time I’ve ever done anything so…scary.”

“Except for the fact that you’ve almost squeezed my wrist off every time the plane jostled and left me with a bloody stump, you’ve done great.”

I snorted.

Soon afterward, we arrived at a private airstrip on the outskirts of Eagle Airport. Thankfully, the plane landed with no complications. Had anything gone wrong, I felt certain I would have done serious damage to the inside of my cheek instead of simply biting it raw. I think I’d already lost enough blood to warrant a transfusion.

With stiff limbs, I stepped out of the death trap and onto the ground. Thank you, God! Royce grabbed my bag, threw it over his shoulder. He shuffled me inside a waiting limousine.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He settled in beside me.

“It was quite enjoyable, actually.”

A smug gleam lit his features.

“
If
I were a masochist,” I added.

“Ha, ha.” Grinning, he shook his head. “We’ve got a half hour drive ahead of us. The cabin has already been stocked with everything we’ll need. All we have to do now is relax.”

“Is the cabin isolated?”

“Technically, no. It just seems that way at times. It’s about a mile from Mountain Lodge. A resort,” he clarified when my expression turned questioning.

“What’s the square footage of the cabin?”

“Two thousand.”

“Hmm.” I pictured his guests squeezed inside that amount of space, one standing on top of the other. “Forget the cabin for a moment and concentrate on the lodge. Does it have any areas designated for large gatherings?”

His eyes narrowed, blocking out the sudden, suspicious darkening, but he answered me anyway. “Yes.”

“Well, the lodge sounds better suited for a party than the cabin does. Let’s go there.”

Now he frowned. “I prefer the cabin.”

We were safely on the ground and my thoughts were clear, focused. So I wasn’t taking his crap. “Still,” I said, “I’d like to view the resort first, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.”

“I didn’t want to fly here, but I did. The least you can do is stop at the lodge.”

“Damn it, Naomi.”

Silence.

I wasn’t backing down, wasn’t going to rescind my request.

“Damn it,” he said again. “We’ll stop at the lodge.” He massaged his neck and gazed up at the car ceiling. “I don’t know why the hell I’m putting up with your bossiness. I’m in charge here. You work for me.”

“I work
with
you. There’s a difference. And just so you know, you’re seriously starting to piss me off.”

“Well, just so
you
know, this is the last time you’re getting your way.”

Jeez, what a sore loser.

“S
O, WHAT DO YOU THINK
?” Royce asked.

I regarded him for a moment. We were in a secluded corner of a smoke-filled bar, drinking wine and listening to the hum of a saxophone in the background. The area was dim, lit only by candles. We had finished our tour of the lodge only a short while ago.

I didn’t want to argue with him, but realized I might have no other choice since the information I was about to give him wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “As lovely as this place is,” I said, “it simply won’t do.”

“Have you already made a list as to why not?” Amusement glinted in his eyes. He wasn’t angry, at least.

I exhaled a relieved breath. “As a matter of fact,” I told him, “I have.”

“This, I need to hear.”

“This building isn’t large enough, for one, and the cabin, which is smaller, won’t be, either.”

“And two?” He tried to cover his smile with his palm, but I caught the action.

His levity should have ruffled me. After all, if he truly wanted the party here, I had no other choice but to comply. Instead, I felt strangely at ease. The wine, perhaps? Or the company?

“Two,” I said, “this is too rustic for our
Arabian Nights
theme.”

“So we’ll make it
Arabian Nights
meets Urban Cowgirl.”

“Three,” I said, acting as if he hadn’t spoken, “I don’t want the party held here.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It is to me. What about flying the guests here?”

“They’ll love being flown in my jet, I promise you. And my mother will adore the clean mountain air.”

“You can’t fit three hundred people in your death trap of a plane.”

“We’ll cut down the list. Make it a small, private gathering.”

He had an answer for everything.

Loud, raucous laughter suddenly rang out. A thirty-something man with long, wavy brown hair stood onstage, tapping on a microphone. “It’s time for the karaoke entertainment hour,” he said, his voice booming throughout the bar. “I know we’ve got some
eager beavers out there, dying to get up on this stage and belt out a few tunes. Well, tonight’s your lucky night. We’ve got a great selection.”

The crowd cheered. Several people even raised their glasses.

“Who’s first?”

One young man stumbled to his feet. His constant swaying and glassy-eyed expression made it obvious he’d had a little too much to drink. “I’ll do it.” His words were slurred, almost unrecognizable. The girl at his table giggled hysterically, urging him on. “I want to sing a sappy hong.”

More giggling.

“Anyone else. Please,” the man onstage begged, an edge of desperation evident in the tense profile of his body.

Silence.

I looked around and noticed that everyone else was doing the same. An instant later, I heard, “I dare you.”

I whipped around, staring over at Royce. Surely he’d misspoken. He wouldn’t have said—

“I dare you.” He gave me a devilish smile.

I wasn’t someone who usually responded to dares. I mean, who wanted to run outside naked screaming, “The sky is falling?” I also knew Royce didn’t think I’d accept his dare.

My own devilish sense of humor—or maybe the simple desire to prove to him that I truly did possess an inner Tigress—rose within me, insisting I leap out of my seat and pole-vault onto that stage.

I tapped a finger on my chin and regarded him intently. “What do I get if I take you up on your dare?” I asked.

He held out his arms in invitation. “Me.”

I should have expected such a reply. Smiling, I shook my head. “Good try. But that prize doesn’t appeal to me.” Lie. “Name something else.”

“A night of wild sex.”

“Nope.” Bigger lie.

Royce stroked his jaw with deliberate slowness. “Hmm. What will tempt you, Naomi Delacroix?”

“Probably nothing.” Biggest lie of all. I refilled my glass and sipped at my wine, savoring the robust flavor, relishing the comforting warmth it gave me. And the courage. “Try and tempt me. Just try.”

“What if I promised the party won’t be held anywhere that requires stepping inside an airplane?” he said. “Does
that
appeal to you?”

No more plane rides? I almost did a table dance right then and there. He’d chosen the one prize I could never refuse. Was the embarrassment of missing a note, of watching him snicker at my attempt to sing worth it?

I didn’t have to think about it.

“You’ve got a deal,” I said. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I held out one hand to shake and seal the bargain. His big hand dwarfed my smaller one and his calluses sparked a delicious friction.