Chapter Six

Sky took off in her Storm-2B for Los Angeles, determined she would practice her compulsory and freestyle sequences along the route. Her abraded hands having kept her from flying, she hadn’t practiced the compulsory sequence, emailed by the judges. Because there were over one hundred pilots competing this year, the event would take over two weeks, factoring in weather and the number of sequences required by each pilot. Sky was fortunate, in that her accumulated high score scheduled her in the final two days.

The small plane rocked with the torque of her engine, the roar bubbling up from between her feet. Goose bumps broke out on her arms as she let off the brake and accelerated down the runway, the forward force of her seat as exciting as the first time she’d tested the model. Through the Plexiglas floor, Sky could see the runway racing below. Because the nose sat so high, she couldn’t see the runway in front of her, but used the triangle between the wing edge and side of the runway as a means to center the plane. In seconds, Sky Dancer was climbing at an accelerated speed, while maintaining three thousand RPMs, much faster than the average 90 mph of most planes.

The Storm responded like an extension of her body. She just had to think bank and it slid sideways. Sky flipped the Storm onto her back, just for the heck of it, the small plane flying straight and level with barely a touch on the stick. When she rotated head up, she’d reached altitude. The weather was clear all the way, and she had an easy three-hundred-and-fifty-mile flight ahead of her. Figuring on an extra twenty minutes, while she practiced her maneuvers, she should touch down in L.A. before noon. Flying at ten thousand five hundred feet, she headed across the Sierra Nevada. Once over the high rolling hills to the southwest, she set her invisible flight box of three thousand three hundred feet.

Sky turned the plane on its back and raced across the lush vineyards of northern California. For ten minutes, Sky Dancer twirled and spun, dove and climbed, carving intricate patterns across the sky. Filled with the joy she always felt, but constantly aware of fuel consumption and timelines, Sky leveled out and proceeded on course for the John Wayne Airport, southeast of Los Angeles. International traffic was so heavy at the main airport they couldn’t sacrifice the airspace for competitions.

Sky always took pride in her accomplishment, but with the Hamilton logo riding along this time, she was determined she’d give them her top performances. The extra pressure thrummed like a high-tension wire through her body. After practicing the compulsory sequence assigned by the judges, she brought the Storm down at John Wayne on schedule and with no problems. Almost before she was on the ground, a slender man with slicked-back black hair and trimmed mustache and beard headed toward her.

With a silent groan, she braced herself.

“Sky, mon petite, I have been on the lookout for you, my little American pigeon. Are you ready for the plucking of your feathers?” He kissed her energetically on both cheeks, then the mouth.

Adam walked out of the shade of the hangar, and with a couple of long steps, had his hand at the back of Sky’s spine. He waited for her to acknowledge him.

“Adam Hamilton, Hamilton Aeronautics, Andre Dupont, a pilot on the circuit. He comes over with a group from Europe every year.”

The two men eyed each other like dogs sniffing at a suspicious patch on a fire hydrant, then shook hands.

Adam pulled her a little closer into the half circle of his arm. Sky thought about resisting, recognizing a male signal of possession, but chose the lesser evil. Andre had chased her long and hard. Something about him set her warning signals shrilling. If Adam wanted Andre to believe they were an item, fine by her. She nestled closer.

Adam looked down at her, pressing a kiss against her temple. He nuzzled her earlobe a second longer, expressing approval of her decision. “You ready to find our accommodations?”

She knew Adam had paid a man to pull the Airstream over several days earlier, and it would be parked in the trailer court that stretched over a mile. “As soon as I secure Sky Dancer.”

“Already on it.” Adam tucked his arm around her waist and headed her toward the closest hangar. Andre kept abreast of them for a few more paces, then gave up as Sky curved her arm around Adam’s back.

As they neared the hangar, a man stepped out, giving Adam a half salute. Adam moved toward him and stopped, keeping Sky with him.

“Mr. Hamilton, just wanted you to know I’m in place.”

“Good, Greg. Thanks for coming. Rig the cameras like we discussed and don’t take your eyes off her for a second.”

“Got it.” The man turned away and headed for Sky Dancer.

At first, Sky thought Adam had been talking about her and was forming strong words of resistance in her mind. When she realized it was the plane, she was relieved she wouldn’t lie awake worrying about sabotage on Sky Dancer; yet piqued that Adam was far more concerned for his investment, than her.

As if reading her mind, he started walking again. “I hired Greg to keep Sky Dancer under surveillance, so I could focus on the most valued part of the team—you. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I’m booked in at the Marriott Hotel.” Now she knew his plan, she could dig in her heels out of sheer rebelliousness. Something about his air of command started her engine faster than a hand on the prop.

“You’re staying in the Airstream with me. Don’t worry there’s plenty of space. But Max and I are in full agreement about this. We want eyes on you for the next two days.”

“Pops is a bread and butter traitor. Why isn’t he the one watching me?”

“Someone who knows your business had to take delivery of your new Cessna, deal with the paperwork, and guard the airfield. Be fair, Sky, this was the best arrangement. I’m required here to glad hand the officials, draw attention to Hamilton Aeronautics, and start building a network on the competitive circuit. Dad is sending a member of our PR team to help. We’ve booked a hospitality suite in the airport hotel. I’ll have to circulate, but I’m hoping you’ll come with me, so I can keep you safe at the same time.”

“Why does it feel like you’re intruding on every tiny piece of my life?” Sky huffed a little, crossed her arms, and pulled free of their fake togetherness.

“Is that how it feels? Sky, I was caught up in this situation. I didn’t come looking for you so I could mess up your life. But now that I am involved, I’m not leaving you in danger and walking away. It’s not in my make-up. Sorry.”

She heard a thread of hurt in his voice, but strode ahead, pretending she hadn’t, while a sense of ingratitude burned in her gut. Why did she always push people away? What was it that made her so frightened by a gesture of friendship or caring? Was she like her dad, a sociopath, who didn’t know right from wrong? She shook her head. A sociopath wouldn’t care about hurting Adam’s feelings. Somewhere in her younger years something had triggered the need to hide beneath an icy cover and show the world she didn’t give a Figgie pudding about their opinion.

“Tell me about Andre.” Adam’s voice interrupted her self-analysis.

“He’s good, just a few points behind me. I’m in the lead right now, but without enough practice and with my hands still messed up, I could drop enough points he might catch or pass me.” Sky kept her voice matter of fact, hiding her concern for losing her standing. She’d worked hard for top place.

“From the way you brought the Storm down, it sure didn’t seem like your stiff hands affected your performance.”

“Thanks, Adam.” Sky stopped and smiled up into his face. She was tired of slapping him down every time he tried.

His eyes narrowed, and for seconds, he looked suspicious of her smile. Then his gray irises flashed with brilliant light as he returned it, his teeth white and even against the chiseled perfection of his lips. His smile struck her dumb.

“Does this mean you’ll put on a dress and leg-aching heels and schmooze with me in the hospitality room tonight?”

“I guess if you can make sacrifices for your company, I can too, as it’s sponsoring me. I packed a back-up dress for the ball, so yes, I’ll schmooze with the bigwigs. But I can’t stay late. I have my compulsory in the morning. I’m tenth in the line-up.”

“That’s why I asked for PR back-up. I can leave him in charge of the room and get you back at a reasonable time.” Adam stopped by the Airstream and pulled a key from his pocket.

Sky could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner and mounted the three steps into cool, streamlined convenience. She didn’t wonder how he’d found his trailer in the midst of hundreds. Adam was as streamlined and efficient as the trailer and always a few steps ahead of her.

****

Sky walked out of her room at the end of the trailer wearing a figure-hugging black sheath, four-inch strappy sandals in silver, and carrying a silver beaded bag. Diamanté earrings skimmed shoulders left bare by the narrow bands wrapping the gentle curve of her arms. The clinging fabric allowed the merest glimpse of the pearly swell of her breasts. The back of the dress was cut away to her waist.

Adam cursed under his breath, as his libido went into overdrive. How could he spend the evening with Sky, looking as tempting as she did, and not make love with her? Maintaining his distance was imperative, so he wouldn’t scare her away. She was just beginning to trust him. “You look beautiful, Sky.”

“Thank you. And you, as always, look impeccable.”

What the hell did that mean? It didn’t sound like she found him attractive, just a smart dresser. His libido sank faster than a weighted diver.

“The car should be waiting. I booked a limo, so parking wouldn’t be an issue. With all these extra flyers and crew in town, the place is a madhouse.” He preceded her, so he could help her down the steps, locked the door, and guided her toward the waiting limo. Inside, he didn’t crack the courtesy bottle of champagne. Sky seldom drank alcohol, and he didn’t want her thinking he was making a cliché move on her.

He asked about some of the other pilots she was up against, then what she knew of the judges, during the ride to the hotel. She shared her opinion with a dry humor, and by the time the driver opened the door, she seemed less tense and had even laughed with him several times. Adam took her arm and led her across the lobby to the elevators, noticing the attention she received from every man in the room. Even the front desk clerk stood straighter when she passed by, looking so elegant and contained.

Her hair was piled in a twist at the top of her head, held in place by a sparkling comb. She looked like she’d put it up for a bath; pale gold, ash, and silver tendrils slid along her neck and around her ears. Did she have any idea of the thoughts the tousled look put in men’s heads? In his?

He fantasized about releasing the clip, threading his hands through her gorgeous hair, holding her in place for his kiss, laying her down, filling her with his passion, and feeding off her like the most sumptuous meal. His step hitched as his pants tightened. The hand she had tucked in his arm loosened when his hesitation prevented her forward movement. She turned looking for the reason he’d stopped, still oblivious to the men around her and their near drooling stares. Or was she?

A slight flush mounted her cheekbones, and she moved closer, her hand tightening around his arm. He felt the nervous tremor in the fingers holding him. Protecting her became his prime focus. All the attention made her uncomfortable. He scooted her into the opening elevator and stood between her and the men in the lobby, blocking their view. He felt the scented warmth of her breath, as she exhaled in relief.

Her cool persona had hidden this fragility, giving him an impression she was more sophisticated. She’d held her own for twelve years in a world dominated by men, mostly alpha males. He’d assumed she had a lot more experience. Now he thought back on their two kisses, registered the passion he’d drawn out of her, but memory also provided insight into her amazement at what had flared between them. He was pretty certain he wasn’t the first man to kiss her, didn’t believe he would be the first man to make love with her, for possessing Sky was a given, but she sure didn’t jump in and out of beds for physical satisfaction, like a lot of her peers.

They reached the floor he needed, passed down the corridor, and paused in the open doorway of the Hamilton Aeronautics hospitality suite. At the far side of the room, a tall brunette caught sight of him, flashed him a flirtatious smile, and headed his way. He groaned under his breath, wishing he’d stipulated who to send, instead of leaving the decision to his father.

“Sky, this is Beverley Harden, one of our PR people. She made the arrangements for tonight. Bev, this is Sky Stravinsky, our star pilot.” He tried and failed to avoid Bev’s hand clamping onto his other arm.

Sky dropped hers and moved apart from him, turning so they formed a small circle.

“I didn’t realize Dad tasked you with this.” Adam tried to let Sky know he hadn’t had anything to do with Bev’s arrival.

“He wanted the best for you.” Bev smiled, her bright red lips reminding him of a carnivore after a meal. He’d taken her out a few times, slept with her once, before deciding he didn’t like her values, and they didn’t suit. She hadn’t taken it well, but like the predator she was, continued making cunning forays into his life, still hoping for the kill.

“Excuse me, I see a friend.” Sky relinquished the field and moved into the mass of people toward a young man who’d waved and called her name. Adam let her go.

“Let me get you a drink, and then introduce you to some of the people you should meet.” Bev was clever enough to give him room. All professional, she indicated the end of the suite, where the bar was located, and moved ahead of him. She was an attractive woman, long legged, full breasted, aware of her sensuality and using it like bait. All he could think of was Sky’s slender body moving against his, the taste of her succulent mouth. Bev held no appeal.

With a scotch on the rocks in hand, he let her parade him around for a few minutes, until he had a good idea of who was there. He sent her off to welcome some new arrivals and closed in on one of the judges. He needed information and asking someone about the sport they loved was the quickest source. Within five minutes, he’d learned there were five judges on the American circuit. They used codified judging, giving points for each maneuver from zero to ten, depending on the complexity of the combination and difficulty of the stunt. In the finals, each competitor flew the same compulsory pattern designed by the head judge and also not one, but two, freestyles. As this was the last competition of the six-city circuit, the winner would be announced the following night.

For a few minutes, Adam stood on the sidelines, observing Sky. He knew she wasn’t comfortable around a lot of people, with a particular aversion to what she considered an elitist lifestyle. He didn’t know why. But she certainly camouflaged her discomfort well, chatting, in an easy charming manner, with whomever approached. People gathered around her like she wielded an electric force field against which they had no resistance. Of course, she was beautiful, but there was also a princess within a glass case fragility about her that made people want to break through her reserve.

He had financed a set of professional photos for Hamilton Aeronautics PR department and watched the shoot. The photographer had rhapsodized over Sky and had her pose in different outfits against different airplanes. Adam had screened the prints and discovered Sky was as photogenic as she was lovely. She could have a career as a model, if she wished. Because the photos were Hamilton property, Adam had no problem with sending one to Gita.

The older woman, waiting for her granddaughter, preyed on his mind. Bringing Sky together with Gita had become a top priority, because he believed Sky needed his godmother. Gita would give her some of the love she’d missed out on since her mother died. He’d emailed Gita a photo of Sky in her cream jumpsuit, posed against Sky Dancer’s red fuselage, her hair in a high ponytail, and aviation glasses tucked into her hair. Gita would recognize Sky’s startling blue eyes as her genetic gift.

A photo didn’t make up for the real thing, though, Adam concluded, as he watched Sky’s lips twitch at something one of the aviators said; then, her face lit up, and she laughed with true delight. Adam stared, fascinated, as he saw Sky drop the façade she used to keep him at a distance. Something in her life had hurt her enough she felt she needed constant protection. Something that had birthed her dislike of the privileged. Only by slipping inside her thoughts, spying on her fears, could he understand the real issue around rejecting her grandmother.

A circle of male competitors surrounded Sky, bragging good naturedly about their K factor, which he knew was the difficulty coefficient of their maneuvers. Sky ignored him, while he stood at her back for several seconds. He pressed his chilled glass against her silken skin and saw a shiver move down her spine, but she didn’t make a peep. So, he blew at the strands of hair drifting across her neck and saw her lungs expand as she took a deep breath. She made a little squeak, almost turned, then went rigid and stayed in place. With a smile of delight, that he could at least get a reaction out of her, he moved on, searching out one of the other sponsors.

Adam had learned, though people were attracted to the beautiful planes and daring pilots involved in aeronautical competitions, they didn’t get large crowds at them, because the weather, mechanical delays, and repetition of freestyles dragged them out over a two-week period. Attracting more spectators was in the interest of all the sponsors, as was finding new means of highlighting the competitive events. Social media encouraged this type of coverage, and he hoped they’d collaborate on ideas of how they could make it happen.

He felt Sky’s gaze on him and turned. Catching her watching him might help him get out of the hot bed of jealousy he’d made up, as he watched so many men vie for her attention. She appeared enmeshed in a discussion with one of the judges. The guy was probably in his seventies and had a paunch and no hair—and his hand on Sky’s shoulder. That did it, with a quick glance at his watch, checking he could justify the call, he decided it was time Sky was home in bed.

“You wanted an early night,” he cued her, closing in on the two of them.

Sky looked up at him, a startled light in her eyes, and something else. Dare he think it was lust?

“Adam, you move like one of those jets you test—swift and stealthy.”

“It’s after ten. You did ask me to keep this short. Are you ready?”

“Sure.” She set her glass on a table behind her and moved forward. They wove their way through the crowd, his hand on her bare waist. A man backed into Sky, crushing her slender foot. She gasped as she lost her balance, falling against Adam. He braced her, taking their combined weight on his weak leg, and felt his muscle pull. Biting back an oath at the ripping pain, and hoping he hadn’t undone weeks of physio, he set Sky back on her feet.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, examining her foot.

“I’ll live.”

“Sorry.” The man straightened and grinned at her with the loose lips of a drunk. “Let me make it up to you, pretty lady.” He reached for Sky’s hand.

She pulled away from his clasp and plowed forward, leaving Adam to follow. “Men,” she bit out. “Why is it every one of you thinks you’re irresistible?” She shuddered. “Just once, I’d like to go somewhere without being hit on.”

“You can’t blame that on us, but whoever created you. We’re just the poor sods hard-wired to respond to your beauty.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m nothing special. You guys are wired so loosely, if it has breasts you’re locked on.”

He stopped their forward momentum and half turned her, looking down at the gentle swell of hers and watched with satisfaction as her nipples hardened under his perusal. “Could be right, but you girls have some hardwiring of your own.”

“It’s the air conditioning,” she muttered.

“That’s not ice I see in your eyes. It’s the heat of passion. Admit it.”

She fell quiet the minute they climbed into the limousine. He didn’t push her, sat back, and let his gaze wander over her slender body. He enjoyed the heat of her thigh inches from his, the soft sound of her exhalations, and the gentle lift of her breasts. She swiped her tongue over her lips, as if affected by his lazy gaze.

He hoped her thoughts were traveling in the same direction as his.

****

“Do you need anything,” Adam asked as they faced each other in the center of the trailer.

Sky’s faced flushed at the innuendo. Yes, you.

“Tea, coffee, water?” he continued.

Her flush became a heated blush, as she realized her mistake. Adam was in perfect host mode.

“Just a glass of water,” she said, licking lips that had gone dry every time she’d followed his progress around the hospitality suite. She couldn’t keep from tracking him, looking for him over the shoulder of the person with whom she spoke, catching his movement, as he shifted from one group to another. He’d looked so in command, so relaxed, his smile flashing. His interest in the subject under discussion apparent and real, or he moved on. He didn’t do fake, or play games. He had a good sense of humor from the amount of laughter he called up in the groups around him. She liked the ways the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled and the way his gray eyes danced with mischief sometimes. The other women in the room liked it too. Most of them were tracking him with their eyes as much as Sky. Beverly, in particular, seemed to find a dozen excuses for landing by his side and sticking until Adam sent her on another mission.

Sky had felt considerable satisfaction, when she recognized his efforts to keep the brunette away from him. She wondered if Bev did.

But that’s not my problem. This crazy reaction to the man is. Why am I acting like a moonstruck fan around her favorite movie star? Fudge Sunday with peanuts! He might not be as bad as Brian, but he comes from the same background. I swore I’d never let myself get dragged into that world again. But popcorn balls, the guy is sexy. And he kisses like a fallen angel, all the way through to my soul. I’ve got to get over this silliness.

Adam had taken a tumbler from a cabinet and filled it with iced water from the fridge. “Here’s your water.” He touched the glass against her wrist, when she seemed incapable of grasping it. Setting it on the counter, he lifted her hand. “Are they still bothering you?” He peeled open fingers that had curled at his touch and stroked the scabs.

She liked the feel of his hands beneath hers, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch.

He cleared his throat, stepped aside, and lifted the water glass.

She rose on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Stop teasing me and kiss me,” she commanded, her lips touching his.

The water glass crashed onto the counter. A few chilled droplets hit her heated skin. She gasped and then gasped again as Adam’s tongue traced her lips and stroked inside. She pulled her body higher, closer, almost climbed his frame. His arms wrapped around her and eased her against his firm musculature.

She shuddered, moaned into his mouth, as she discovered the voltage of the attraction between them. Adam’s hands were on the narrow bands of black imprisoning her upper arms. He slid them down, until the front of her dress fell free. She wore no bra because of the backless style. He pulled away, his heavy-lidded gaze tracing her throat and collarbones, drifting across her breasts and zeroing in on her nipples. They were already hard nubbins begging for his attention. He didn’t disappoint, palming her, tweaking the straining tips, sipping at them. She writhed in his embrace, seeking more of the overwhelming pleasure. Her fingers tangled in the silken strands of his coal black hair.

“Undo the dress,” he husked, his mouth moving between the flushed mounds.

Sky’s fingers scrambled over the little hook and eye and lowered the short zip down her bottom. The dress slid from her hips and puddled on the floor. She stood in a black thong and silver sandals.

Adam closed his hands around her arms and drew them down to her wrists; capturing her hands, he held them wide. It reminded Sky of what he’d done after she’d rejected their kiss on the wing of her plane. It was obvious he was thinking of the same thing when he spoke.

“If this is your idea of climbing to altitude, then bailing, tell me now. I told you before I’m not into those kinds of games.”

“I want you.” Sky didn’t think adding she didn’t know why, thought she was crazy, and yet couldn’t drown out this burning need to have sex with him would serve her purpose. She didn’t do one-nighters, but that was what this was. She’d only had two partners before—a high school buddy and the man she’d almost married. Neither of them had brought out even a small percentage of the desire she felt for Adam.

Still holding her wrists away from her body, he searched her eyes, reading her hunger, her commitment. Then he pulled her arms behind her back and brought her against him. Leashing her wrists with one hand, he let his other roam her back and bottom. He closed his eyes and, like a man using Braille, tested the texture of her skin, the shape of her body, the tension in her muscles.

She watched his face, taking in the flush along his high cheekbones, the sable fan of his lashes against his taut skin. His eyes opened, gazed into hers. His pupils were dilated, leaving only a silvered rim of gray. He must have found what he wanted in her eyes. His closed again, and, as his lips took command of hers, she wondered what he’d seen. Then she sank into the kiss, the heated exchange of tongue and breath. He let go of her wrists and backed her toward the sofa at the side of the main room. Lowering her into a nest of cushions, he kicked off his shoes, yanked off his socks, and dropped his jacket. The tie came next, and he started on the buttons of his shirt. Sky moaned as his bronze skin showed through the growing gap. When he cast it aside, she sat up.

“Let me.” She reached for his waistband, drew him closer, and undid his belt. With trembling fingers, she unhooked his trousers and lowered his zipper. Sliding her hands into the top of the pants and his underwear, she pushed them down his legs. He stepped out and, before she could touch him, lay down beside her.

“I’m too hot for that kind of love play right now,” he growled against her ear. “I’ve been aroused since I met you. That’s a lot of foreplay. I’ll be lucky if I make it through the first act.”

“And how many acts are there in this play,” she quipped, tracing his ear with her tongue.

“I guarantee you three, but I’m going for five.”

“And you’re so goal oriented, I can’t see you failing.” Her hands stroked down his back, squeezed his glutes.

“God, Sky, you set me off like a smoker on a stunt plane.” He reached for his trousers, dragged them over, and pulled out his wallet. “Thank God,” he said, as he found a condom. “I wasn’t sure I had one anymore.”

“One isn’t going to last through a five-act play,” she teased. She’d never had so much fun with a guy.

“One only has to get me off the couch and you into my bedroom.” He pounced on her then, laying light kisses over her face, avoiding her lips, until she grasped his hair and pulled him down, desperate for the heat of his mouth.

“Adam,” she incited, her restless body urging him, her legs opening, her damp thong pressing his thigh, as she rubbed against his hard muscles.

He tore the thong off and flung it aside, bringing his hand to the moist threshold aching for his touch.

“Oh yes, yes,” she called out, “peanut butter and jelly that feels so good.”

He chuckled, doubled his efforts, and stretched her wider.

“I need you…need you…” she wailed like a child. Is that me? How can I say these things, feel these things? God, what is happening to me?

He entered her, taking his time, making it good, soothing her even as he stimulated her further. All thought was lost in the maelstrom of her response. It was like pulling 5 Gs, rocketing out of the atmosphere into space, losing control as she faced the unknown, exploring a place she’d never been before. Magical, mysterious, frightening, and addictive. She followed where he led. And when they reached the pinnacle together and floated down, she nestled her face into the crook of his neck, and for minutes, felt safer than she ever had before.

“How did you like act one?” He lifted off her, rose, and disposed of the condom under the sink.

“It was a great start, but I’m looking forward to the entire production, especially the climax. Is that scene four?”

“You minx. You’re toying with me.” He bent, his hands sliding under her.

Before he could straighten, lifting her, she scrambled out of his reach. “Adam, much as I’m sure you’re able and I might like the feel of being carried about, I know you pulled your leg when I fell on you. I felt your reaction. Please don’t injure it any further.” She pushed him back and stood; fetching her water from the counter, she took a long drink. She crooked her finger, giving him a sinful smile. He sauntered behind her into his bedroom, toward the largest bed in the Airstream. His gaze drifted over her with heady appreciation, starting the slow burn in her vitals before she’d even lain down.

“You’ve piqued my interest. I’m excited for a preview of what else you’ve got.” She stretched out, resting her head on one arm.

“As long as you know there’s a turning point in act three, and the heroine takes the initiative…”

When act three came after another passionate session and a short doze in Adam’s arms, she surprised him, and herself. She’d lost something when she’d been with Brian—her confidence and sense of self-worth. Now as she straddled Adam, glorying in her femininity, loving the shudders she drew from his big body, and drawing in the heat firing his beautiful eyes, he helped her get it back. He provided the road map and the terrain, but let her find her own way. It was empowering.