Sam dreamed of Emily. Hot dreams. Bothersome dreams. Dreams that had him taking a cold shower the moment he got out of bed and working to suppress memory of them when he met her in the lobby.
It did no good. The sight of her fresh face and creamy skin brought back the heated, sweaty imaginings of his overactive mind from the night before. That single kiss they’d shared outside her door had fueled his fantasies in a way no woman ever had before. To Sam, Emily was the stuff dreams were made of.
Erotic dreams, mostly. Although in other dreams they simply were together, laughing and enjoying their time together. Those dreams were almost as sweet as those that featured a heavy, sexual beat of them making love. At least in his mind.
Sam found himself grateful that she wasn’t able to read his mind as he greeted her in the lobby of the hotel. She’d called briefly to say she was heading downstairs and he’d barely been able to grunt in response. He was doing better now but she still turned him on. He’d have to deal with it. They both had jobs to do and walking around with a woody wasn’t going to help his cause—either with the woman or with the task he’d come here to perform.
“Are you feeling adventurous this morning?” Emily greeted him with a mischievous smile.
Oh, yeah. His dreams had definitely been adventurous, but somehow he got the feeling that wasn’t what she was referring to. Still, best to be cautious. He leaned back on his heels and regarded her.
“Depends what you have in mind.”
“Breakfast,” she replied quickly. “But not here. This place has the standard eggs, bacon, and heart attack on a plate menu. I was thinking of something a little different. Question is, are you up for it?”
That daring edge in her voice was a siren’s call to him. The more he got to know of her, the more he both dreaded and delighted in the fact that they seemed to be kindred spirits.
“I’m up for anything you can dish out, captain.” Hell, he’d eat bamboo shoots and alfalfa sprouts if it made her happy. Lord knew he’d eaten worse in his time.
“I got us both set up for late checkout so as long as we’re back here by noon, our stuff can stay in the rooms. What do you say we head out to parts unknown, get breakfast at a little bistro I’m thinking about, then head straight to Saturday Market from there?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded and followed her out of the lobby and down the street.
She was downright bubbly this morning and he wondered what had brought about the subtle change in her energy. Yesterday she’d been a cautious, calm professional. The day before she’d been slightly harassed and wary. Today she was open and free. Had he done that? Had their kiss brought out her lighter side as it had brought out the sexual perv in him?
Well, maybe not perv. But some of the things he’d dreamed about last night were definitely pushing the envelope. He wondered if she’d be interested in testing the kinkier side of life with him as he watched her sashay down the sidewalk slightly in front of him.
She turned suddenly and caught him staring.
“Do my eyes deceive me or was my first officer just ogling my butt? I could have you keel hauled for that, mister.” The twinkle in her eye told him she was definitely kidding.
“Good thing we’re not in the Navy, then.” He caught up to her and took her hand in his.
He didn’t know why he’d done it. He hadn’t held hands with a girl since high school. Somehow, though, this felt right. Sort of old fashioned and good. Pure.
Unlike the steamy sexual thoughts he’d been having about Emily since last night. Better to tamp those down so he could function today. At least a little.
Being with Emily was proving harder on his self-restraint than he would have believed just two short days ago. She was a dynamo in a size petite captain’s uniform and more competent in the cockpit than he’d have credited. Boy, had he been wrong about her. From the get-go, he’d had the wrong impression, gleaned from the thin personnel file and lousy photo he’d been given as background information before he went undercover.
She was nothing like the serious, harassed looking woman in the photo. There was something almost vulnerable about her at times that appealed to his protective instincts. At other times, she was fierce. A good partner to have at your back in battle. He’d never thought of any other woman in those terms. Not even the women warriors on his new team. Sure, he respected them all, but he didn’t know them half as well as he thought he knew Emily after only a short acquaintance.
Of course, he’d never kissed any of them. Or had naughty dreams about them. No, that was just Emily. A woman who was working her way under his skin without even trying.
They walked toward the downtown area where the market was located. Emily stopped short of the busy market area and ducked into a small bistro.
Emily surprised him with her choice of restaurants. It had a fun ambience and eclectic menu. Lots of health food dressed up in appetizing ways. If she thought he’d be put off by the choices, she was sadly mistaken. He ordered fresh cinnamon wheat toast and a big portion of something called rice and raisins.
It was served hot and was basically a bowl full of seven or eight different kinds of rice that were mostly of the brown and long grain varieties, dotted with plump raisins. The waitress brought a bunch of fussy little dishes along with it, including a small carafe of milk and his choice of brown sugar, molasses, honey, or maple syrup and with a few different choices of chopped nuts and other things he could use to dress up the rice. He went to town, much to Emily’s amusement, decking out his bowl of steaming rice and raisins with a little bit of everything.
“Nothing fazes you, does it?” She shook her head as he dug into his bowl of unconventional breakfast.
“Not much. I’ve eaten worse in the service, Em. If you want to stump me you’ll have to try harder than this.” He winked at her and they shared a grin as she buttered her whole wheat toast.
“Duly noted.”
She nibbled daintily on the toast while he chowed down on the unexpectedly good concoction in his bowl. He’d have to remember this and try it sometime when he got back to base. He liked experimenting with different foods though he wasn’t much of a chef.
“So what was your rank in the Army?” she asked out of the blue.
“Lieutenant. Wasn’t that in my file?” He wondered if she’d read his file. Was she testing him or fishing for information?
“I only glanced at your file before they put it in the drawer. Officially, Buddy hired you. He’s the one who read through all the statistics and reports. We do background checks on all our flight crew. You can’t be too careful these days with all the smuggling and illegal goings on.”
“Have you had problems with that kind of thing before?”
“No. Nothing like that. But I like to think our careful hiring practices are the reason we’ve been problem-free to this point.”
“You did have a couple of fatal crashes in recent months, though. See, I researched you guys too, before I accepted the position.” He tipped his imaginary hat to her belying the seriousness of his words. Hopefully if he kept everything in a friendly tone she’d continue to be open with him.
A frown wrinkled her brow. “Yeah, we had some bad things happen recently.”
“A friend of mine said weather was most likely to blame for one of the crashes, and scuttlebutt had pilot error down for the other one. I asked around before I signed on the dotted line. I have a vested interest in my own safety, after all.”
She chuckled but he could see she was still troubled by the reminder of the personnel they’d lost. Her tone was somber when she continued.
“The final reports aren’t in yet but the NTSB cleared us of responsibility on a preliminary basis. The toxicology report on Ernie Young’s body—he was the pilot involved in last October’s incident—said he was drunk as a skunk. I knew Ernie liked to party in his off duty hours but I never would’ve thought he’d be stupid enough to fly in that condition.”
“What about the other one?”
“There wasn’t enough left of the plane or the pilot to do an autopsy. At least that’s my understanding. There hasn’t been a lot of information forthcoming on that investigation. I guess if we were implicated we would’ve heard about it by now.”
“I suppose so.” Sam chomped on his rice, allowing space if she wanted to continue. Sometimes silence was a useful tool to get others to talk. Sure enough, it worked with Emily.
“Still, it’s strange we haven’t heard much. I got the other information through a leak. One of the investigators knew my mother and was willing to give me a hint as to their findings. That’s normal in this kind of situation where the airline isn’t really to blame, or they’re fairly certain that’s the way the final report will turn out. If they think the airline is on the hook, you usually get a cease and desist order to stop flying or a bunch of inspectors show up to rifle through the books and interrogate personnel. None of that has happened. Either way, it’s strange. I think we should’ve heard something by now.”
“When is the final report from the NTSB due?”
“Who knows?” She rolled her eyes in frustration. “I don’t think they’ve given themselves a cutoff date, which is also strange. The whole thing makes me wonder what’s going on. Usually, they’re more efficient.”
“Could it have something to do with politics? I’ve heard sometimes the shift in political parties in Washington can affect how certain government agencies are run.” He put that out there as a red herring. He wanted to see where she’d lead the conversation.
“No, I don’t think so. The NTSB is usually safe from the worst of the political machinations. At least the investigative arm is. Most of those guys have been in the business for years. There’s very little turnover in their ranks. They’re all top notch in the field and they have connections all over the industry.”
Once again, Sam waited to see if she’d continue, chewing his surprisingly delicious breakfast and trying to project his interest in her words. Once again, she didn’t disappoint.
“I think it’s more a case of someone being paid off or warned not to leak any information. I don’t know who and I had no clue that anyone could really have that sort of power or why they’d use it in our case, but I’m leaning more and more toward that belief.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is.” Her expression was grim for a moment before she deliberately changed the subject. “But it’s only a suspicion. How’s your breakfast? I love this place. They have an inventive menu.”
He let the conversation drift as they both finished eating and headed for the door.
“Do you feel like walking to the market? It’s not too far and it’s not raining, which can be rare in Portland.”
“I’m up for a walk. Lead on, MacDuff.” He opened the door of the restaurant for her and she preceded him out.
After days of comparative inactivity, Sam needed more than a little stroll, but it would have to do. He wasn’t used to going days without a heavy workout or two, but he was in the civilian world now and most regular folks didn’t keep themselves at the peak of readiness at all times. He’d had to lay off the more public workouts, like taking long runs with heavy weights, in order to fit in a little better. Plus, he just didn’t have the time. The mission was on.
It might be a long-term assignment so he had to figure out ways to keep himself in shape while he did his job. He had a set of weights in his condo and was able to spend a few minutes here and there lifting iron to keep his muscles from turning to flab. That would have to do.
He began to notice more activity as they approached the market area. Looked like a good number of Portlanders and tourists were out in force, enjoying the uncharacteristically sunny weather.
Emily stopped abruptly as they were walking past a small dress shop. Sam was surprised. She seemed completely entranced by the Bohemian styles on display.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a gypsy.”
“You’d be surprised.” A flush stole over her face before she turned away.
Sam caught her arm and coaxed her back around to face him. “Wait a minute. I think we should go in and take a closer look. I might be able to pick up something for my sisters. I’m a lousy shopper but those scarves look like stuff they’d like. I need your input, Em, or I’m sure I’ll pick the wrong thing. You’d really be helping me out. What do you say?”
“You have sisters?” She looked like she was debating the idea.
“Two of them.”
“Older or younger?” Yeah, she was definitely leaning toward giving in.
“One of each.”
One delicate eyebrow arched as she looked up at him then relented with a sigh.
“Okay. So what’s the occasion?”
“Vel’s birthday is coming up and Ty’s having a kid. I’ve been meaning to pick up some presents.”
“Your sisters’ names are Vel and Ty?” She walked with him into the shop as he broke out in laughter.
“Sorry, no. Those are nicknames that sort of stuck. Vel is Amy and Ty is Cathy.”
“So how did those nicknames come about? Are they short for something?”
“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “Remnants of my Jurassic period. Vel is short for Veloci-sister. She’s small and cute like a velociraptor, until she tries to bite your head off. Ty is short for Tyranno-sister Rex. She’s the older, more frightening one.”
Emily laughed out loud, as he’d hoped she would.
“You don’t really call them that, do you?” He was enchanted by the laughter in her expression and if they hadn’t been in the middle of a dress shop, he’d have taken her in his arms and kissed the life out of her right then and there.
“Believe me, that’s better than some of the other things I called them when we were growing up. It’s gotten to the point they kind of expect nicknames from me and get suspicious when I call them by name.”
“So…a birthday and a birth.” Emily moved farther into the store, tapping her chin with a slender finger while she examined all the colorful items on display. “Can you tell me more about your sisters? Besides which dinosaurs they resemble, I mean. Do you know either one’s favorite color?”
“Amy likes pink. Cath’s more into oranges, reds, and burgundies.”
“Tall or short?”
“They’re both about your height. Maybe an inch or two taller in Cathy’s case. Both thin, though Cathy’s supposed to be ballooning in a couple of months.”
Emily shot him a dirty look that said she didn’t appreciate his comment. He liked that she’d stick up for his sister—a woman she’d never met. It said something good about Emily’s sense of fairness.
“How far along is she?”
“Four months. She only told the family last week. She and her husband were keeping it quiet until they were sure everything was going to be okay.” His voice grew more serious. “She’s had two miscarriages.”
Emily’s eyes filled with compassion. “How about this?”
She swept a hanger off the rack and swirled the swath of brightly colored fabric over her arm. It was a dress that didn’t have much of a waist. It would work really well for a pregnant woman. The fabric floated downward from an ornate neckline and was light as a feather. Some sort of gauzy cotton fabric that was dyed with bold orange and red flower patterns.
“I think we have a winner.” He picked up the dress and folded it over his arm.
He hadn’t intended to mix personal shopping with business but he figured he was killing two birds with one stone. He really did need presents for his sisters and if helping him shop drew him closer to Emily, it would help his mission considerably.
Plus the smile on Emily’s face made his gut clench in a mix of pleasure and dread. He was falling fast for the pretty pilot. That hadn’t been part of the program but he would have to deal with things as they came at him. He’d always been quick on his feet. He’d just have to figure a way to handle the attraction that sparked between them whenever they were together.
“How about this for Amy?” Emily lifted a delicate pink shawl from one of the tables and held it out in front of him, displaying the fabric. It was thicker than the dress and even softer.
“What’s it made of?”
“Raw silk.”
“Fancy.” He took the shawl out of her hands and added it to the growing pile on his arm. “She’ll like that. Now, what do you want as a reward for helping me? How about that blue number over there? You’d look killer in it.” His gaze moved to a form fitting Chinese brocade dress displayed on a mannequin, then back to her. He’d noted the way she eyed the silk dress when they’d walked in.
“No, I don’t want anything for helping you.”
“At least let me buy you lunch.”
“We’re on an expense account. The company is paying for our lunch.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. Come on, I saw the way you were looking at that blue dress.”
“It wasn’t the blue dress,” she caved in, moving toward the rack of dresses like a bear to honey. “Though the blue one is pretty.” She looked through the hangers checking sizes until she found the one she wanted. “This is the one I was looking at.” She pulled it from the rack and held it in front of her as she looked into the mirror a few feet away. She was totally entranced by the floaty black dress.
It was the typical little black dress most women wore but with a Bohemian twist. The skirt was short and flirty, made of whisper thin fabric and the top part would hug Emily’s curves like a lover.
Damn. Sam wanted to see her in that dress. He wanted it bad.
And then he wanted to see her out of it. Doing the things he’d done with her in his dreams last night. All of them. All night long.
Sam cleared his throat around the lump that had formed there, moving the bundle of fabric over his arm so that it hid his rather blatant reaction to those provocative thoughts. Luckily Emily was still totally absorbed by the dress, looking at it with longing in the mirror.
Then she glanced at the price tag and her expression fell.
“Well, there goes that. Too rich for my pocketbook.” She put it back on the rack, but not before Sam peeked at the size. She seemed to lose interest in the store then, a sad little crinkle at the corners of her eyes.
He didn’t quite understand. If she was the sole heir to her mother’s stock in the airline, why didn’t she have enough money to buy a dress? Furthermore, she was a fully employed pilot with years of seniority in an airline her mother had founded. Where was her cash? Was she just thrifty or was there some other reason?
Suddenly, he wanted to shower her in gifts. He wanted to spend some of the money he had socked away for a rainy day on her. It didn’t make sense, but there it was.
“Why don’t you go on ahead while I pay for these,” he suggested. “Snag me a couple of those shepherd’s pies you were telling me about. Extra onions.”
She seemed grateful for the excuse to leave the store. Sam was glad too. He gave in to impulse and added two more items to his purchases before he brought them to the counter to pay. When the saleslady asked if he wanted them gift wrapped, he decided to go for it. He’d never have time or the supplies to wrap his sisters’ gifts otherwise and the festively colored paper might keep a certain lady pilot from looking too closely.
Whether or not she’d ever get a chance to open that particular box was still up in the air but Sam was a man who liked to be prepared for all contingencies. An impulse had driven him to buy those things but that didn’t mean he had to give in all the way. He’d hold the package in reserve and see where events led him.
For now, he had lunch to eat and a plane to catch, in that order.
The flight from Portland to Denver was uneventful. Another high-powered corporate client wanted some files hand delivered to their representative who met the jet at the airport in Denver. From there it was a quick hop back to Wichita.
The sky was cloudless and dark outside the cockpit, lit only by pinpoints of stars and a sliver of reflective moon as the jet cut through the air speeding toward its destination. This kind of quiet peace, above the clouds and close to the stars, always made Emily introspective.
“I once heard about a ceremony overseen every year by the Dali Lama where a group of Buddhist monks spend days and days creating an intricate design out of sand. They lay the pattern grain by grain in painstaking detail. It’s a gorgeous artwork in a circular design they call a mandala.”
“I’ve seen it,” Sam replied mysteriously.
She didn’t want to question his wording but it made her wonder about him. Did he mean he’d seen it in person? It sure sounded that way. But maybe he meant he’d seen it on television, the way she had. She was a fan of documentaries and had watched an hour-long program about Tibet that had included footage of the ceremony. She chalked his response up to that and let it pass. The moment was too solemn and the mood too intimate to break by questioning his choice of words.
“At the end of the ceremony, when the mandala is finished, they sweep it away. Destroy it deliberately.” She paused, letting the silence be filled with that thought for a moment. “I never understood how they could spend so much time creating a thing of such beauty and then demolish it.” Dismay filled her voice.
“It’s all about the impermanence of life,” Sam said quietly.
She looked at him, surprised by his quick grasp of the concept it had taken tragedy for her to understand. Perhaps he’d learned it the same way. Perhaps he’d lost someone dear to him. She couldn’t tell much from the firm set of his jaw as he stared out the cockpit window, but the tense set of his broad shoulders made her think maybe she was right.
“Yeah, I get that now.”
“You lost someone.” It wasn’t a question. He turned his head to meet her gaze as he spoke, pinning her in place with compassion etched into his handsomely weathered face. He knew. He understood.
“My mother.” It was her turn to look away. To hide her pain as she stared at the infinite sky in front of them. “She was my best friend. My role model. The only person in my life I could truly trust.”
She paused, gathering herself. She hadn’t been this close to tears in a long time and it shocked her that she was able to open up to this man—this new person in her life—so readily. She wasn’t normally so willing to expose her secrets to anyone, much less someone she’d really only just met. But something about Sam seemed innately trustworthy and it felt good in a bittersweet way to remember and talk about her mother.
“She was a pilot. A trailblazer in this profession dominated by men.” Yeah, her mom had been one in a million. It was freeing to remember and to be able to share the memory with another pilot who might understand. “She taught me how to fly when I was in high school.”
“Cessnas?” he asked, naming a common brand of prop planes that many people learned to fly in.
“Piper J-3 cub,” she corrected his assumption.
“A tail dragger.” He used the nickname applied to planes with landing gear near the tail that required a special technique to land. “Those cubbies are too small for me. I flew one for a while when I was a kid, but I shudder to think about squeezing into that tiny cockpit now.”
She laughed with him. The man was big with a capital B and the cockpit on the two-seater cub was small. He seemed to take up more space in the jet too. He wasn’t fat—not by any stretch of the imagination. He was all muscle from what she could see. The seams of his uniform shirt strained against his biceps and deltoids as he flipped overhead switches and moved around the cramped quarters of the jet. She couldn’t help but notice. A girl would have to be dead not to notice Sam Archer.
Of course, she knew too much about pilots to get involved with one. Most of them had a girl in every city and weren’t good prospects for a woman who demanded fidelity. They lived on the edge, and while she could understand that, she also expected faithfulness in any relationship she engaged in, whether it was a simple business deal or a more personal relationship.
Maybe that’s why she had so few friends lately. People had let her down more than she cared to admit and she’d grown a tough exterior, unwilling to let anyone near enough to hurt her again.
There was something about Sam that made her want to break her own unwritten rules. He’d already made her lower her guard enough to talk about her beloved mom. She didn’t do that easily or readily and was a little surprised she’d brought up the topic at all. His quiet acceptance and calm understanding made her want to share her deepest thoughts with him and she found herself almost unable to resist.
Realizing that made her cautious but something inside her felt relief at finally being able to talk to someone. That part of her overruled the skeptic—at least for now. In the background, her saner, more logical side would be on guard in case he proved unworthy of her trust.
“How about your dad?” Sam broke the short silence that had fallen. “Was he a pilot too?”
“Good Lord, no.” She laughed at the thought. “He’s a math professor at Princeton.”
“No kidding.” Sam’s reaction was a lower key version of the usual response she got from that revelation.
“Dad’s too smart for his own good. He’s great with the abstract world of advanced mathematics but not so good with everyday life. Still, he means well.” She shrugged. “Mom was the nurturer and the adventurer. Poor dad was just along for the ride most of the time, but he loved her with all his heart. They had what I consider the perfect marriage. A true partnership. When mom died, it broke his heart and he’s never fully recovered, though he’s found solace in his work—and taken on the task of keeping me and my brothers in line. I think we drive him a little crazy. Except for Leo, he doesn’t understand any of us at all.”
“Leo?”
“Sorry. Leopold is what they named my baby brother. He’s working on his Ph.D. in mechanical engineering. Dad gets him. He doesn’t really understand why I’d want to be a charter pilot or why Shotgun opted for the Air Force Academy out of all the choices he had. Shotgun is my twin brother’s nickname. His real name is Henry but we were always fighting over the shotgun seat in our high school driver’s ed class, so I started calling him that and it stuck.”
“You’re a twin?”
Sam knew how to parse words, she thought with inward humor. He didn’t say more than he had to but he certainly knew how to get his point across. He was the proverbial man of few words, but somehow it didn’t make him seem antisocial, just reserved.
“Yup. And my crummy brother gets to fly sexy Air Force jets while I opted for the civilian route. He never lets me forget it either.” She grinned, remembering their last conversation. “But to be honest, I’d had enough of always stealing his spotlight. Everyone made such a big fuss over me when I got my pilot’s license. They almost forgot Henry got his the same day. I would never admit it to him and I’ll kill you if you ever repeat this, but he’s a better pilot than I am. He has the killer instinct I lack. I dither while he makes lightning fast decisions. I think he’s a natural born fighter pilot and I’m content to let him shine. We were always together as kids and I do miss him, but I know this is the best route for both of us.”
“You must love him a lot.”
“That I do,” she agreed. “We’re twins. We shared everything when we were little. We grew apart as we aged though mom taught us both how to fly. It’ll never be the same as it was when we were small, but we’ll always have a special bond that nothing can break. To this day, I always know when something’s gone wrong with him. I woke up in the middle of the night when he had an accident in ejection seat training and broke his collarbone. I knew immediately that he’d been injured. It was hell trying to get through to his commander but when I finally got the man on the phone his first words to me were that Henry warned him I’d be calling.”
“Does it go both ways? Does he know when you’re in trouble?”
“I think so but we haven’t had a chance to test that as much. See, I’m less accident prone than he is. Or maybe it’s just that I take fewer chances than he does. Shotgun lives life on the edge. I prefer the safer route to most destinations.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” Sam teased.
She looked over at him, sitting so close in the small cockpit and was snared by the twinkling light in his eyes. Yeah, he had a little bit of the daredevil in him—the same daredevil that had led her twin to the Air Force. She saw a kinship between them that she hadn’t really acknowledged in her conscious mind before. Now she knew what it was.
They were both warriors. Sam may not be in the service anymore but he definitely had that soldier vibe going strong around him.