KAT WAS SHAKEN to her very femininity by Hal’s admission. And that’s just where she felt it—a little tremor where there’d been very little action in a long time. It was strangely exciting and a little alarming to experience a distinctly sexual reaction to a man she thought she despised, and who she’d been sure despised her.
She looked at her reflection in the age-spotted oval mirror above the sink in the ladies’ room, teased by the notion that she attracted him. What was it about her? she wondered. Certainly not her brown hair—it was long and thick, but just…brown. Not the dark eyes—they were thickly lashed but not particularly wide or sparkling, and again…just brown.
Her body wasn’t bad, but it was small with none of the voluptuousness men seemed to prefer. She’d been complimented on her smile acquired after two years of metal braces when she was a preteen, but she doubted she’d used it often enough lately for anyone to notice. Sad but true.
In fact, she’d been thinking a lot about where her life was going. She’d broken off an engagement last year when her fiancé had impregnated her best friend and left Kat’s sense of self in tatters. To recover, she’d worked longer hours, weekends, painted her bathroom, learned to sew.
Her efforts to stay busy were a combination of a cowardly need to hide, and the conviction that she couldn’t let what had happened destroy her faith in herself. Her mother had sewn, and she was the most womanly woman Kat knew, so Kat bought a machine and took a class.
But she’d turned out to be more adept at hiding than at sewing. She found any kind of fabric difficult to deal with, seams difficult to align, zippers and buttonholes impossible to accomplish, and once took a desperate trip to the E.R. with a sewing machine needle in her thumbnail.
But she couldn’t hide forever; she knew that. She wanted a home and children, and though some women managed those successfully without husbands, she wanted a man in her life. She liked hand-holding, snuggling, sharing. She was a smart and capable woman who wouldn’t be offended by the assistance of a smart and capable man.
But Hal Stratton?
There was that little tingle again at the very mention of his name.
She was going over the edge. That’s all there was to it.
She brushed her hair, straightened her jacket and stepped back from the brink of attraction. He couldn’t possibly be the man for her. With a family composed of determined and authoritative Italian males, she knew she needed something else. She had dreams of a gorgeous young Adonis wealthy enough and sufficiently besotted with her to set her up in her own restaurant on the coast and give her four little girls and a house overlooking the ocean.
God? Was that too much to ask?
Apparently. Because instead, He’d sent her a George Patton wanna-be with likely only a two-seater airplane to his name who probably lived on tips.
Well, she was stronger than this unexpected little burgeoning of desire. She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and headed for the plane.
HAL PREPARED for takeoff. At least, that’s what she presumed he was doing. He wore a headset and talked to the tower while adjusting gauges, flipping switches, an occasional joke injected into the conversation suggesting a familiarity with the person he spoke to. The voice was female and Kat heard her ask if he was in pursuit of a bad guy.
“Not this time,” he replied after a moment. Then he added to Kat with a smiling side glance, “In another life, I was a skip tracer.”
“That’s tracking down suspects out on bail who don’t make their court appointments, right?”
“Exactly.”
He continued with the checklist. The powerful motor growled to life and made the small plane shudder. For one moment, she wondered what on earth she was doing with a handsome man in a small plane on a Wednesday morning when she should be home doing laundry because she had to be at work by eleven for the lunch rush.
Linens, she reminded herself. She was flying to San Francisco to pick up linens to make sure her father had them in time for the Ferreiras’ party. That was an odd thing to do, but her father did odd things all the time, and she knew how eager he was to make a good impression on the couple and their society friends.
“Buckled up?” Hal asked, leaning forward to look at her seat belt.
“Yes,” she replied, feeling as though his hand rather than his eyes had stroked across her stomach.
She had to think about other things.
Life and death seemed worth consideration as the little plane shuddered into the air and climbed toward an army of puffy clouds in a clear blue sky. Hal held the controls confidently, still talking to the tower. Then he finally leveled out, made a few adjustments to the intimidating panel of controls, thanked the tower and slipped off the earpiece and mike.
“Good day for flying,” he said. “Weather’s even good over the Siskiyous. That’s a rare thing in February.”
“Good.” She made an effort to appear at ease. The principles of flight had never made sense to her, but then she was no scientist. Millions of people got safely to their destinations every day and she would, too. “You’ve flown this way before?”
“All the time. My sister lives in San Diego.” He was quiet a moment, then asked with a smile, “This your first date in an airplane?”
“Date?” Her determination to remain sane was not going to be undermined by his in-your-face charm. “This is a business trip.”
“Come on,” he chided. “Only if we allow it to be. Let’s make it a business trip that turned into a date. Let’s go sightseeing, have dinner at the Top of the Mark, then stay overnight in the hotel.”
It was naive to be disappointed in him for suggesting they get a room together, so she kept her feelings to herself.
“Stay over?” she asked coolly.
“So we can see the sights,” he replied, “take in a few clubs. It’d be criminal to travel this far with each other just for the tablecloths.”
“It’s a business trip,” she said again. “My father wants those tablecloths back for the Ferreiras’ party.”
“That’s tomorrow night. We’ll leave early in the morning and be home by lunch. Come on, Katarina. Don’t you feel like dancing?”
She loved to dance, but she’d had no one to dance with in over eight months. She could almost see the lights turned down low, hear saxophones and drums thrumming in the shadows where couples clung together and moved lazily to the music.
But that wasn’t her life, now. These days she worked until she dropped.
“No,” she said stiffly. “I feel like picking up our order and getting it home. I know you manage to charm everyone around you, but I’m impervious to you. I like to see substance and stability in a man and some respect for my opinion before I sleep with him.”
He smiled again. “You’re inviting me to sleep with you if I can show you substance and…?”
“No.” He was trying to embarrass her and she refused to allow it. “You said…”
“I said ‘stay over.’ But I could be talked into sleeping with you if that’s what you want.”
If they hadn’t been hanging thousands of feet above the earth, she would have slapped him. But she didn’t want to do anything to distract him. She was beside herself with frustration.
He reached a hand out to pat her knee in a curiously fraternal and affectionate gesture. “Relax, Kat. I’m teasing. I’ve been lusting after you for two weeks, but I respect your father and I wouldn’t seduce you when he sent me to look out for you.”
He’d said this was a short flight, but it was entirely possible she could go bananas before they were halfway to San Francisco.
“Just stop talking to me!” she ordered in a strangled voice.
He’d been lusting after her? There was that tingle. She pressed her knees together and folded her arms. “And my father sent you to transport me, not to look after me. I can take care of myself, and I assure you I’m in no danger of falling for your seduction.”
“Transport,” he said, “could have an entirely different…”
“Stop it!”
“Sure, Your Highness.”