The hottie—Danya, by his name tag—came aboard and introduced himself to the parents and to Haidee. His very pretty blue eyes wandered down her body as he said hello to her, and she knew she’d been evaluated as a woman and found interesting. But she was busy checking Henry’s monitors and just had a moment to glance over as he spoke.
“I’ll fire up the jet and let you know when I’m ready for takeoff. You give me a thumbs-up when you have the baby stable enough that you can belt in. I’ll get us up in the air then and let you know when you can unbelt.”
Haidee nodded. “Got it.” She adjusted the oxygen mix to accommodate for the stress of transport and repositioned one of the baby’s monitor leads that tended to get hinky. She looked up when Danya signaled he was ready, gave him a nod, and took her seat. It was a small airport, and they were at the runway in just a minute.
One of the pleasant surprises of her job was that it turned out Haidee loved to fly. The fast acceleration that had her feeling her weight against the back of the seat, the sense of soaring above the clouds, looking below the horizon to see stars at night, and, most especially, the moment that wheels left the earth—they were all heady feelings.
Apparently, Danya didn’t wear his pilot’s wings just for show. Their takeoff was so smooth she hardly noticed the acceleration, and she wasn’t sure at all when they left the runway except that she saw the ground falling away when she looked out the window. Maybe he was taking special care for their precious, fragile passenger, but he was giving them all an exceedingly gentle ride.
When they were in the air, Haidee encouraged Henry’s mom to sleep. She got her lying back in her seat with her feet propped up. A good mom, she’d brought along a breast pump to collect milk for when Henry could eat, and Haidee helped her with that. She asked Danya to turn the cabin lights down and let the dad read with his overhead light only. She saw he was reading a medical journal, no doubt the thing that made him most comfortable in these stressful moments.
Henry’s oxygen requirements rose a bit, but overall he handled the flight as well as could be expected, and his mother seemed restful, too. In a little more than an hour, they were descending into Denver.
Once they landed, Haidee saw that the ground ambulance was waiting for them. Danya secured the jet as Haidee stepped out and spoke with the EMTs. As had been planned, she would accompany Henry to the NICU and sign him over to the staff there. A taxi was standing by to take the parents along to Children’s. It was a well-organized transport, and she had to give credit to the pilot, as he’d been on the radio with ground.
Back inside the jet, Haidee found Danya releasing the clamps and ties that had secured the transport incubator. He clearly knew what he was doing, and she nodded her thanks. “Not just a pretty face, eh?”
He grinned and winked at her. “I fly pretty good, too.”
She smiled, just a little charmed, but not easy. “So you do. That was a remarkably smooth flight.”
“Well,” he said. “I save my barrel rolls for when there’s no baby on board.”
Ah, he was cute. But Haidee was pretty much off men.
With Danya’s help, she got the incubator into the hands of the EMTs. Then he stepped out of the jet with her, and she saw he’d grabbed her overnight bag.
“I did some flying earlier in the day,” he told her. “I need to layover.”
Haidee nodded, aware of the strict rules for flying hours and rest time mandated by the FAA. He was her ride home, so she would have a layover, too.
“How about if I find us both rooms near the airport? We can leave first thing in the morning.”
“That’d be great. I’ll give you my cell number, and you can text me where.”
“I’ll get a car,” he said. “Why don’t you let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll pick you up at the hospital. That’ll be easier all around.”
“Easier for me,” she said. “But not for you. I’ll be at least an hour at the NICU.”
Danya shrugged. “Do you want to get a cab after midnight?”
He’d stepped a little closer, into her personal space, and spoke almost intimately. Haidee had to remind herself about how she wasn’t interested. She straightened, not stepping back, but leaning away a bit. “No,” she said, reluctantly grateful. “Thanks, then, if you don’t mind. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
He nodded. “I know the hospital. I’ll be at the front entrance.”
Haidee agreed, but when he offered to transport her bag directly to the hotel, she declined. She’d already worked a rough twelve-hour shift when she got the ambulance call. She was in need of a shower and fresh clothes, so she put her hand out and he handed her bag over without comment. When she turned to walk to the ambulance, he went with her, his fingers touching lightly at her lower back. Haidee was very aware of that touch and, in her head, like a mantra, started chanting. Not interested. Not interested.
There was absolutely no way she could suppress the awareness that he was checking out her ass as she climbed inside the vehicle.
* * * *
It was a very fine ass. Very fine.
Danya stood watching, savoring, long past the time the ambulance had disappeared from sight.
He liked women in much the same way he liked airplanes. He liked how they looked and smelled and felt. He liked how they moved. He loved what he could do with them, what he could make them do.
And this one—Haidee—had a lot of appeal. She was probably five-seven or -eight, which stood up to his height pretty well. She was extremely fit. Not much shape showed in those scrubs she wore, but he could see her arms were very toned, and, well, there was that ass as she bent over the incubator—he’d watched from the mirror in the cockpit—and climbed into the ambulance. He had no trouble imagining long, shapely legs to match. And not even a scrub top could conceal her very lush breasts.
She had a nice face—surprising gray eyes that were bright and soft at the same time, a very kissable mouth that was lightly touched with pink gloss and tended to curve into a satisfied smile when she was at rest, and cheekbones just sharp enough to make him think she needed someone to remind her to eat when she got too busy. Her hair was a pretty mahogany and a little too full and wild to stay put entirely when she casually clasped it up on the top of her head while she was working.
But Danya liked the whole package in a woman, and Haidee seemed to have it. He could tell she was smart and competent and she handled herself well. She was clearly skilled in caring for that baby, but she was also kindly attentive to the poor mother, who was obviously suffering. Even the baby’s dad, who Danya took to be more or less an ass, was dealt a good measure of support and got a hug as he tucked his wife into the taxi.
Danya was very interested, and she’d seemed a little interested back. For sure, he’d seen her give him a good once-over when he was doing his preflight outside the jet, and he knew she’d felt a little something when he touched her as they walked to the ambulance. He didn’t know her—the pilots and flight medical staff tended to hang out every now and then, but he’d never seen her before.
That would change tonight.
It wasn’t unusual that he’d offer a ride to the hotel for flight nurses—it often was late at night when they finished their job, and they’d usually had a tough day. It was just part of service at the level he thought Van’s should provide. But in this particular case, it was more a pleasure than a task. Actually, it was a first step in the strategic plan he had going on in his head, one that ended with him knowing her a lot better.
It didn’t bother him at all that it was nearly one by the time she was ready. It was fucking worth the wait.
Her bag slung over her shoulder, she strode out through the sliding doors of the entrance. The area was brightly lit, so it looked a bit like she was spotlighted, and she had to stop and shade her eyes in order to find him down the curve of the drive. As she came toward him, he felt sure her gaze was taking him in, just as his was her.
He grinned.
It wasn’t his fault he looked good with his ass leaning against a convertible Mustang.
She stopped when she got close, but to him it was far from close enough.
“I knew you’d have great legs,” he said. She’d kept him waiting while she showered and changed, but he had not a bit of complaint about it. Her hair was down and kind of flowy, and she had a bit more makeup on than she’d worn through the flight. Her skirt fluttered lightly around her thighs and ended well above her knees, giving him plenty chance to see the lean muscle in those long gams. She wore a little top above, with thin straps and a fit tight enough that he could see the movement of her breasts when she walked. When he could manage to look away from those wonderful legs.
He’d almost argued with her about holding onto her bag. Now he was very glad he’d given it over.
She smiled just a little and nodded at the car. “This doesn’t look like a rental.”
“I went to college in Denver, and flight school. I have buddies who live here, or fly out of here, anyway. The one who owns this is on a layover in D.C. right now.” He didn’t have to mention her name was Charlotte and that she had similarly lovely legs.
“Nice,” she said.
It was. It was past midnight and still nearly eighty degrees. A spectacular night for a ride with the top down. He took her bag, dropped it in the backseat, and opened the door for her. She kept a small purse in her hand, heavily beaded, kind of vintage looking and cool. He was pretty sure he knew what she had in it—her phone, a credit card, her driver’s license, a little cash, and a bit of makeup. With any luck, he figured, she might be packing a couple condoms, too.
She slipped into the low seat, more athleticism than elegance, but it was totally hot. She caught him looking and raised a brow.
“What?” he asked. “There’s no way I’m not going to watch that.”
She laughed like she understood, and he liked her more for it. He closed the door, keeping his gaze on hers for a moment before he circled the car and joined her.
“Mexican or Italian?”
She looked over at him as he pulled away from the curb. “It’s a little late for dinner, isn’t it?”
He looked back at her before he exited the lot. “It’s a little late for dinner,” he said. “It’s a lot late for lunch.”
“You didn’t eat lunch?”
“I did,” he said as he drove away from Children’s Hospital and headed toward 225. “But I figure you didn’t. And I’d guess you didn’t have dinner, either. You tell me, when did you last eat?”
“Hmm,” she said. Or, it might have been more like, “humph.”
He waited, looking over at her until he got an answer.
“Breakfast,” she finally said.
“Yeah. So, Mexican or Italian?”
“Italian.”
“You got it. We’ve got a little ride. Sit back and relax. I’ve got you now.”
* * * *
Haidee took his advice and was quiet during the drive, closing her eyes and resting her head back. Danya thought she’d appreciate the downtime—the air, the quiet, a moment free of responsibilities. He enjoyed it, too. There was nothing on land that was finer than a night drive, top down, with a pretty girl in the right seat.
Well, nothing that involved clothes on.
He took her to a little mom-and-pop restaurant that was pretty much the DeLucas’ front porch and living room. He’d eaten there through college and was glad to see that, as the surrounding neighborhood had become more upscale—it was near the medical center, and God knew that was a growth industry—so had the restaurant. Mama DeLuca greeted him with hugs and kisses like he was the prodigal son and gave Haidee a good looking-over, which she followed up with a none-too-subtle nod of approval.
By the time they were seated, it was clear Haidee was bemused.
“I know the nightclub scene, too, if that was what you were expecting. We’ll save that for next time. Tonight, you looked like you needed good food and a little quiet.”
She tilted her head. “How do you know these things about me? That I didn’t eat? That I’m tired?”
It was easy. “You looked like you’d already had a day by the time you climbed into my aircraft. And I watched you. You’re a competent and compassionate nurse. In my experience, competent and compassionate nurses tend to miss meals. The put a priority on their patients’ needs.”
“Sounds like a recipe for burnout.”
“It is. Unless you’re unusually grounded. Centered.”
She regarded him, evaluating. “You’ve lived with a nurse.”
Danya nodded. “I have.”
Mama brought them their dinners herself and stood by until she was satisfied that Haidee would do justice to the great food. Apparently, she didn’t have any concerns about Danya’s appetite. She patted his shoulder before she walked away, another signal of approval that he’d found a keeper.
He agreed.
While they ate, they talked about where they’d lived, gone to school, and traveled. When she was done, Haidee rested one hand on the table but moved it away before Danya could cover it with his own. “There it is again,” he murmured.
Those gray eyes looked into his. “What?”
“Mixed signals.”
She shook her head slightly. “What signal did I give that you interpreted as a go-ahead?”
He sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t mind looking.”
“Well, you are pretty to look at.”
“Pretty?”
She smiled. “In a very manly way.”
He guessed he could live with that. “I have to ask, Haidee. Are you a single woman?”
Her mouth opened as she started to answer then she paused and closed it. She gave a little shake of her head.
“It’s kind of a yes or no question. The answer should be simple.”
“In this case, it’s complicated.”
“Then I think I need to hear more.”
She took her last swallow of Mama’s best red wine and then sat back, mirroring his posture. “For the last six months, I thought I was in a relationship.”
“What was it instead?”
“An affair,” she said flatly.
“Ah.” He leaned forward. “So when you learned he was married, it was over.”
He waited, but she took too long to answer. “Isn’t it over, Haidee?”
“He said they were already separated.”
“You already know he’s a cheater. You should admit, at least to yourself, that he’s a liar, too. Is that really who you want to be with?”
She looked away, for the first time not meeting his gaze, and he realized how much he’d liked that about her. When she spoke with you, when she looked at you, her attention was all there. Grounded. Centered. He missed it now.
Danya sighed and sat back again. “I get it. I know women get themselves into these spots. I don’t understand it, but I know it happens.”
She looked back at him, seeing all again, it appeared. “The nurse?”
“Yeah.” He stood and left money on the table. Mama wouldn’t bother with a bill for him. Haidee stood, too, but neither moved further for a minute. “The nurse is my mother.”
“Ah.”
“It’s complicated.”
* * * *
It was still warm as Danya drove her back toward the airport. Haidee sat back and enjoyed the breeze and the night sky, entirely comfortable to put herself in his competent hands. Clearly, the man knew his machines.
Though if he really thought she hadn’t figured out the Mustang belonged to a woman, he was that much an idiot. A tube of lip gloss and an elastic hair band were nestled in one of the cup holders between them.
Without moving her head, she let her gaze wander over him. Physically, he was terribly appealing. He was sweetly handsome, his chiseled bones, blond hair, and blue eyes just icing on the cake of that broad-shouldered, lithely muscled body. He moved with grace and competence. She was very aware he w
as the sort of man a woman could just fall into.
But it was more than that. He was smart, observant, and insightful. He was totally upfront about his interest in her, but he was sensitive, as well. He would push to get what he wanted—likely, in all aspects in his life, but definitely from her. Still, he would consider her feelings, her situation.
Though if he thought she was deceiving herself, he would say so. Had said so, in fact. And he was no doubt right.
She let out a silent sigh as she thought about it. Kyle Stevens was a ranger for the Forest Service. She’d met him when she’d been working out of Flagstaff, airlifting an injured firefighter. For half a year, she’d seen him intermittently—he was out in the field for days or weeks at a time. When they got together, he’d meet her or pick her up at her place. When they made love, it was always in her bed.
She should have seen it, should have realized that he was married. Looking back, she knew she would scoff at any other woman being so blind.
It was purely by accident that she’d discovered the truth. Kyle wasn’t just a husband, but a father, too. She’d seen him walking out of the hospital with his one arm around a woman and the other holding a sweet little three-year-old boy sporting a brand new cast on his arm.
She’d nearly called out to him, sure that he was escorting his sister and nephew through an emergency…or something. But his arm on the woman was possessive, and the boy’s head lay on his shoulder like it belonged there. She stayed quiet, thank God, and followed them. She’d seen him tuck his son into his car seat, help his wife in, then get behind the wheel and drive them home. His son, his wife. There was no other explanation for what she’d seen.
Even so, she’d wanted to believe him when she confronted him later that week. He came to her and blatantly misled her about his absence for the week, and she’d let him. She’d kept quiet until he’d indicted himself with his own lies. She wanted to believe, still, when he told her how estranged he was from his wife, how he’d only been there because of his son’s injury. How he loved Haidee, not his wife. Like the fool she was, she still wanted to believe.
Three Men and a Woman: Haidee (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 2
