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OneJoleneAll of my concentration went into putting one foot in front of the other as tears streamed down my face.

The news that my beloved grandmother was in the hospital and could die had me on shaky legs. Add to that a major weather system was causing havoc in the Northeast, and most flights to New York were grounded.

Thankfully, my father, who hadn’t been around much of my life, stepped in and got me a seat on a chartered flight.

Unfortunately, the red gauzy cover-up I wore would do nothing against the harsh elements of a New York winter, but I hadn’t been given much time to pack to make this flight. The pilot had insisted on leaving immediately to have a chance of beating the storm that was set to batter the Northeastern Coast.

“You know we’re going to New York, right?”

I glanced up from my position at the top of the stairs that led into the well-worn cabin of the plane. Storm gray eyes held my gaze from a face that could grace any cover and looked way too young to be flying this plane. Yet, the uniform he wore was clearly intended for someone sitting in the pilot’s seat.

“I do. I didn’t have time to pack,” I admitted.

His barely contained scowl deepened as his eyes dropped down and back up again.

“Too busy shopping, I’m sure,” he said before muttering, “Rich girls.”

“What?” I spat. “For your information, you didn’t give me a lot of time and I have to see my grandmother.”

He had no idea of my circumstance. I wasn’t rich despite my father’s bank account. I was more like the dirty secret he kept well-hidden away. If my father’s mother hadn’t asked for me, I wouldn’t be on this plane.

“Whatever, Little Red Riding Hood. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it. As it stands, chances aren’t good.”

I stood my ground.

“The question is, if you’re that good. You don’t look old enough to buy alcohol. Why should I put my life in your hands?”

He shrugged, saying, “Your choice,” before turning to leave me standing just outside the plane’s door. He had to duck, as the height of the plane didn’t suit his frame.

“Wait. Don’t you have other passengers?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “What? Rich girls like you aren’t used to flying solo? Do you need an entourage?”

“It’s not like that…” I trailed off, not understanding. My father wasn’t known for his generosity. Not when it came to me. “Christian—” I began using my father’s first name.

“Look, if you want to make it to Grandma’s, you’re going to need to strap in. I’ve got many things to do.”

I stepped inside. The leather seats looked well-loved and were still like butter when I strapped myself in the right forward-facing seat. There were four seats behind that, club style, but there was no one with me.

A guy with a yellow vest and clipboard strode in and followed the pilot, who hadn’t given me his name, into the cockpit.

As a flight attendant, I knew the drill. I probably could have helped, but FAA rules didn’t permit such thing, as I wasn’t on the manifest as an attendant but a passenger.

When the yellow vest guy walked out, the pilot was on his heels, bent down, as he couldn’t stand completely upright. As soon as vest guy left, the pilot turned to me.

“Last chance. Are we going?” he asked.

I nodded and he pulled closed the door.

“No flight attendant?” I asked out of curiosity.

He turned, annoyance radiating off of him. “Sorry, Your Highness. It’s just you and me. You’re going to have to get your own drinks.”

Before I could answer, his eyes dropped to my bag and I sighed. I’d forgotten to stow it.

He marched over and snagged it from the floor. “Let me take care of that,” he said with a mocking smile and false cheer.

He walked it over to a small closet located near the door and tossed it in all while watching me.

I would have apologized if not for his complete arrogance. He assumed he knew me and probably wouldn’t care if I told him the truth. I didn’t bother, just rolled my eyes, wanting this flight to be over as soon as possible.

“I should probably go over the safety rules, but my guess is you know the drill. This is a Cessna Citation V. There is the exit there.” He pointed at the door I’d entered. “The rest I’m sure you’re familiar with. Stay seated and buckled unless I tell you otherwise.”

His eyes slid down my body, which wasn’t exactly hidden underneath the dress, which doubled as a coverall for the swimsuit I wore.

I should have been put off, but fire burned a path of his perusal of my body to where it stopped at the juncture between my legs after coming back from the length of my legs.


Tags: Terri E. Laine Romance