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Fatal Flight Page 12
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Page 12
“We’re here to celebrate a successful competition circuit,” he began, moving on to quote statistics on numbers of competitors, cities involved, and money earned. Then he began a long list of people to thank, from the judges to the volunteers.
Adam saw Sky set her fork beside her dessert and take a deep breath. She’d lost any color she had in her cheeks. He eyed her with growing concern, wondering if it was the thought of losing or deteriorating health affecting her.
She must have felt his gaze and turned, giving him an unexpected smile. Brilliant, her eyes a celestial blue, shone with a warmth that nearly annihilated his control.
He leaned forward, pressed his lips against her ear. “Do you know how much I want you,” he growled.
Straightening, he saw a flood of rose chase the underlying pallor from her complexion. This time, her smile held a soupcon of saucy, a full helping of sensual. He swallowed.
“And now I better announce the winners, or the competitors will revolt against me. Andre Dupont has been disqualified. Therefore, I’m happy to award the third-place trophy and prize money to our popular Australian…”
“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Adam whispered against Sky’s ear.
“Interesting euphemism.” Sky feathered a warm breath against his cheek, as she whispered back.
As second place was announced, and an American friend of Sky’s stepped onto the stage, she grew still. Adam wondered if she’d stopped breathing.
“And our first-place trophy and prize money of a quarter of a million dollars goes to Sky Stravinski. Sky, will you come up and accept your winnings?”
Adam stood and pulled back Sky’s chair. “Go get ’em, sky girl.” He grinned at her. “You’ve earned every moment of recognition.”
Sky stood, gazing at seven hundred people on their feet clapping for her and froze in place. Her pupils contracted, her breathing accelerated, and for a second, Adam thought she might faint. He grasped her arm.
“Please, come with me,” she begged, looking more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. She licked her lips. “Please.”
“I’d love to escort you to the stage. Max, why don’t you take her other arm? If anyone deserves to be up there with her, it’s you.”
Max stood, and framing the petite woman with the courage of a dragon and a heart as fragile as cloud of vapor, they walked Sky onto the stage.
She accepted the huge trophy, handing it to Adam, then took the check, and passed it to Max.
“Speech, speech.” The crowd was sitting again, but demanding a few words.
Sky stepped up to the mic. In a voice huskier than usual, she thanked the sponsor of the competition, the judges, and the sky boss, setting the crowd laughing as she teased him about his oversized ruler. He was a stickler for pilots staying within the invisible box. Then she grasped Adam’s arm and pulled him up beside her. “And I must thank Adam Hamilton, of Hamilton Aeronautics, my sponsor, who not only makes me and my plane look good, but handles my many crises like the top F18 pilot and aeronautical engineer he is. Not many flyers have that depth of experience behind them, so I consider myself extremely fortunate.” She paused and smiled at Adam.
Turning to her right, where Max stood preening with pride in her, she continued, “And I’m honored to share this moment with my father, Max Stravinski. We’ve worked toward it for many years. He taught me to fly, gave me the freedom to test my limits, and picked up all the pieces a time or two when I exceeded them.” She paused as the room erupted in laughter again.
Max’s eyes swam with tears, as he hugged her. “Every moment was a trial and a joy,” he spoke into the microphone. “But we’re looking at the top aeronautical pilot in these United States, because she’s just that good.” He stepped back and started another round of applause for Sky.
They were tied up with photographers, media interviews, and people extending their congratulations for the next half hour. The Race sponsor and his wife had started the dancing, and the floor was filled with circling couples.
“Shall we?” Adam touched Sky’s shoulder.
She excused herself from the lady lecturing on how Sky had to crack the feminist barrier and fly right through the glass ceiling. She slid into Adam’s arms with a grateful look, and he guided her onto the floor and into a foxtrot. She followed his steps like they’d practiced for years. His eyebrow went up in surprise, again. Though she purported to abhor the lavish and luxurious, she seemed a natural part of it. Yet, she hadn’t grown up a trust fund baby, or even with wealthy parents. Max had barely scraped by when she was young, and she’d worked hard for everything she had.
He drew her closer and rested his cheek on her hair. She’d worn it long and straight, a stream of ash, gold, and silver flowing down her back. She smelled of roses and clear air and made him feel like he was flying at thirty thousand feet without oxygen. He got two dances with her before the men started cutting in, one interrupting the next, until Sky had danced with half a dozen.
Adam could see Sky’s brilliant smile had become forced, the color induced by elation fading, until her face was as pale as a china doll’s. He caught Max’s attention through the crowd and signaled him over.
“Should we call it a night?” He nodded at Sky. “I don’t want to cut short her triumphant evening, but she isn’t enjoying it anymore.”
“You’re right. That’s her suffer-in-silence look. Let’s get our gal home.”
Adam liked that Max accepted him, not just as a sponsor, but as a factor in Sky’s personal life. The other man trusted him with Sky, a sign of respect Adam valued.
Max cut in on the young man whirling Sky in an exuberant waltz, danced a few minutes with her, and moved her off the floor. “Are you ready for bed,” he asked her.
Sky’s gaze flew to Adam’s over Max’s shoulder. She blushed. “Yes, I’m wiped. Let’s get out of here.”
Max walked with them through the lobby and down the steps to the limousine. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to hang in a while, catch-up with some of my pals. I’ve arranged to stay with Bob tonight in his rig. He has plenty of room. I’ll come over for breakfast in the morning, and we can go from there.” He bent and kissed Sky’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Sky. You set yourself a goal, and you made it. Get a good sleep now. The world’s your apple.” He patted the check in his breast pocket. “I’ll keep this safe for you.”
“Thanks, Pops. You know I couldn’t have met that goal without you. I love you.” She stepped into the limo.
Adam followed her in.
She sagged against the seat. “I feel deader than a drained battery.” She gave him a small smile.
He sat back, wrapped his arm around her, and drew her close. “You can soak up as much energy as you need from me,” he offered.
With a shaky sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder, and in seconds, her even breathing and lax weight of her body told him she slept.
Chapter Eight
Sky woke. Her aviation watch face read three a.m. It had been after one when they’d left the Gala, so she hadn’t slept that long. Now, it seemed she had caught a second wind. Or drawn a lot of energy off Adam, she thought, remembering his words. She pictured him in the bed at the other end of the trailer, flipped onto her stomach, and sought more sleep. But slumber was elusive, and her imagination had much to offer. She wondered if he slept in the nude, pictured what he’d look like, thought about all those defined muscles and hard sinew, the heat of his skin, and the safe feeling she found in his arms.
Rolling onto her side, she punched her pillow and settled her head again. Safe, but sexy. He made her feel all woman—delicate, feminine, desired. He’d helped her discover a deeper level of self. Who knew she could light up like a flame, burn white hot in a man’s arms? Her previous experiences of sex had acted like a stream of cold water over a burning wick.
Sleep wasn’t coming any time soon, she concluded, slumping back onto her stomach. She wanted Adam one last time—and a time after that, and a time
after that—yes, she was addicted. But he would leave in the morning, and with the circuit finished for the year, she wouldn’t see him again. With the saboteur caught and Sky saying no to meeting her grandmother, there was no reason. Would one last time hurt?
She was on her feet, slipping into the thigh high silk robe she’d packed, because it took only a handful of room in her suitcase. Without conscious thought, desire led her through the trailer, into the open doorway of Adam’s room.
He did sleep without pajamas and had tossed the blankets off, splaying his long body across the bed like a Greek cross. He looked delicious.
When silent steps had taken her to the point her knees touched the bed, she looked down. His face appeared more approachable when it wasn’t serving as a frame for the power of his intense eyes. She touched a tentative finger against his chiseled lips. He had such a beautiful mouth, and it could do such lovely things. His eyes opened, startling her, as they captured her in a net of attraction. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched her.
She dropped the silk robe from her shoulders. Naked, she stretched on top of his body, aligning her arms and legs with his, until she too formed an X against the navy sheets. “You feel so warm, so strong,” she said in a hushed voice.
“You feel soft and silky.”
“I like the way you smell, like clean linen blowing on a line by the sea.”
“You smell like dusky roses and rain-washed air.”
Sky intertwined her fingers with his, inched her body higher. “I love the way you kiss. You make me feel so sensuous and hungry.”
“Your kisses make me hot and hard.” For the first time he moved, lifting his hips and rubbing his erection against her belly.
They both moaned at the same time. “I want you,” she breathed against his parted lips.
“Take what you want,” he groaned.
She fastened her mouth on his and fed. When the dueling of silken tongues and the feel of flesh against flesh was no longer enough, she loosened his hands and sat up, straddling his hips.
He groaned again as her feminine channel, wet with invitation, hot with hunger, slid against his engorged penis.
Sky sat back on his thighs and explored.
He shifted, with a muffled gasp.
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I hurting your leg?” She lifted her weight off him, but before she could move, he captured her with his hands at her waist. “Stay put. You’re not hurting me, just torturing me in a really, really good way.”
“Oh, well in that case.” She settled against him again and ventured further, finding new paths of pleasure for both of them.
“Quit toying with me and take me,” he growled, his features pulled tight with passion.
“Condom.”
He scrambled at the drawer in the bedside table and handed her a packet.
She took him then, into her body, into her mind, into her heart. With each rise and fall in their duet of love, she brought him deeper, focused on giving him greater gratification, accepting her clinging muscles were only doing what her heart wished.
Then every thought, every wish, disappeared in the maelstrom of sensory experience overwhelming her. Heat, tension, racing hearts, whispered words, grasping hands, nipping teeth, damp skin, pressing flesh, and the frantic culmination as they reached the vortex of desire together and spun out of control.
Heart thudding against heart, breath mingling with breath, she lay supine on top of his damp and quivering body, absorbing what they could be together. Tiny aftershocks still tightened her inner muscles around him. She didn’t pull away, wouldn’t give up that close connection. She stroked from his muscled shoulders, down his damp arms, until she tangled their fingers, as he so often did. Long, slender, and strong, they curled around hers.
“I thought I’d have one night of adventure with you, and it would suffice,” she confessed, her flushed cheek pressed against his.
“I thought I’d have one round of sex with you and walk away satisfied, but free,” he admitted, pressing a kiss onto the curve of her cheek.
“I overestimated my will power.”
“I underestimated your allure.”
She rested, giving herself one more minute, then separated from him. “Maybe two nights will do it.” She gave him a faint smile. Tomorrow, she’d be on her way home, and he’d depart for Houston.
Again, he read her mind. She wondered at his ability and accuracy, when she hid so much behind her cool exterior. “If I didn’t have my flying medical booked for the first of the week, I’d go back with you.” He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and disappeared into the small bath behind.
Sky wrapped her robe around her. The night air was chilly against her damp body. She shivered as he returned. He pulled her against his hard body. “Stay,” he tempted.
Sinking back into his arms was a compulsion she knew she must fight. She shook her head and backed out of his arms. “I want a few hours of sleep before Pops gets here. I need to be sharp for the flight home.”
“I’ll stay until we’re satisfied the new canopy is installed and sound.” Again, he locked onto her concerns.
“Pops and I can do it. I don’t want to hold you up.” She hesitated in the doorway.
“I know you’re both capable. But it’s my design, and it’s something I need to do for you. Okay?” He flicked on the light switch, throwing a rectangle of light into the body of the trailer.
She nodded. “Good night, Adam.” Her shadow stretched across the floor, a thin, black line pointing her at her room.
She felt his gaze resting on her until she closed her door.
****
Sky looked around the Hamilton Aeronautics test field as she brought Sky Dancer to a halt near a large hangar. The date of the Grand Prix had come too soon for her peace of mind. She’d given herself a hundred lectures, reinforcing her determination; she must keep her force field up and protect herself from Adam’s magnetism. Succumbing once was bad, initiating again lethal. He was the wrong man in the wrong place.
She cut the engine and stared ahead, taking deep breaths, focusing on anything but her churning emotions. Would he respect her decision, agree their relationship should be professional only? Maybe with this much time away, he’d moved on, and she was giving herself an anxiety attack over nothing.
She snapped her thoughts back to her surroundings. The hydraulic doors were open, and jets and planes of all sizes and shapes filled the huge hangar ahead. The corporation was a top player in the world of aircraft manufacturing. The Hamiltons had wealth beyond her imagining, along with a golden reputation for delivering what they promised. She knew Adam lived by a high set of standards. She wondered what his father was like. She pictured a ruthless tycoon. Yet, when Adam spoke of him, affection and pride colored his voice.
“Sky, sorry I’m late.” Adam pulled up in a golf cart.
He wore dress slacks and a golf shirt, and looked so handsome planting a bouquet of kisses on his face, then down his body, leapt into her mind, speeding her heart rate. She’d been standing on the wing, perusing the other aircraft. Now, she turned and pulled a soft-sided bag out of the Storm. Adam took it from her and dropped it onto the back seat of the cart. Before she could jump down, he wrapped his hands around her waist and set her on the ground.
She stiffened and stepped back. This is the reason I don’t let people get close. I always get hurt. There is no place for me inside Adam’s world, so don’t hang on.
Adam gave her a quizzical look, but turned and gave directions to one of the ground crew who hurried over. When he finished, the man nodded and said, with utmost respect, “Yes, Mr. Hamilton, I’ll see the Storm is moved into the hangar and detailed.”
“There’s round the clock security guards, and cameras covering every inch of the hangar,” Adam informed Sky, as he indicated she get in the cart.
Seated beside him, she took notice of the many hangars. Larger planes lined the runways; an F18 took off, roaring into the air. Ahead
, the twelve-story structure of glass and stone housing Hamilton headquarters reflected the bright autumn sun. She’d done her homework and knew, as well as the administrative offices, the building housed laboratories, testing facilities, and even a wind tunnel. The bottom two floors were equipped with top of the line equipment for building prototypes.
The landscaping at the front and sides was breathtaking. Towering palms, Chinese tallow trees, and loblolly pines lay a reflective pattern on the lower glass panels and sheltered all manners of flowering shrub.
“The back is all parking for the employees,” Adam said. “We’ve kept the landscaping to native plants.”
“It’s beautiful and suits the building.”
Adam pulled the cart into the shade of a huge porte cochere at the front doors.
“Dad’s waiting to meet our champion pilot.” He grinned at her. “I told him I’d bring you right up.”
Sky swallowed against the bitter acid that flooded her throat. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She’d delivered a championship title to her sponsor and did it flying the plane they’d designed. They could have no criticism of her performance, and she had nothing personal going with Adam, so it wasn’t like she wanted his father’s approval. Why did it matter if he liked her?
She stepped into the elevator when the door opened, feeling the warmth of Adam’s hand as he rested it on her back. Again, she pulled away, faced the door, and licked her dry lips.
He pushed the button for the top floor. Gray eyes traced her features, drifted down her body, and back up. He read her “off limits” body language. “It appears you’ve put an embargo in place I wasn’t aware of.”
She cleared her throat and met his eyes, holding a steady gaze. “I just don’t think there is any point in…” she floated her hand across the space between their bodies and cleared her throat, “…you know.”
“No explanation? No vote? You’ve discarded the idea of us without ever giving me a say?”
“I thought we said all there was at the trailer.”