by Donna Hill
Finally she returned her attention to him. “That’s exactly what I expect,” she said. She reached for his hand and sandwiched it between her own. “Look, Kyle, today has been amazing. And tonight . . . well, let’s just say it will be something I think about for a long time. But it’s best that we end it right here. We live hundreds of miles away from each other. Long-distance relationships just aren’t my thing.”
“Who says it has to be a relationship?” he asked. “I’ll settle for a texting buddy. Hell, just a Facebook friend, if that’s all you’re willing to give.”
Miranda rose from the bed and grabbed her underwear from the floor, quickly pulling them on. Kyle followed her around the room as she put on her jeans and sweater, not bothering to cover his nakedness, which was distracting as hell. She folded her turtleneck over her arm.
“Is this because of the joke I made about spending Christmas in Portland?” he asked.
She picked up her camera bag and slung it over her shoulder, then turned to him.
“It was always supposed to be just a day, Kyle. That’s all I was ever willing to give.” She captured his face between her hands. “Thank you for the unexpected holiday treat. You have no idea how much I needed it.” She pressed a quick but firm kiss to his lips. “Safe travels back to Denver.”
Five minutes later, while sitting in the backseat of the cab the doorman hailed for her, Miranda couldn’t escape the unease that trickled along her skin at the way she’d left Kyle standing in the middle of his hotel room. Yet, she couldn’t erase the smile that traveled across her lips as she thought about the day she’d had.
She always looked forward to traveling to Turkey, but of all her visits here, this trip would be the one she would never forget.
Chapter Three
Leaning back in the plush business-class seat, Kyle tried to get comfortable for the ten-hour flight from London to Denver. He’d missed his original connection after sitting on the tarmac in Istanbul for hours due to a plane malfunction. Luckily for him, there was a spot on this last direct flight out of Heathrow.
He adjusted the complimentary noise-canceling headphones in hopes that blocking out the chatter and hum of the engines would help him get some rest. Sleep should have been easy to come by, seeing as he got hardly any last night. But it was the reason why he didn’t get any sleep that kept him awake right now.
Kyle emitted a low groan.
Earlier, in the wee hours of the morning as he’d stared up at the ceiling of his hotel room, Kyle had started to believe that Miranda had been a mirage. The previous day and a half had been so magical, so mind-blowingly awesome, that it just couldn’t be real.
But it had been very real. It had just been too damn short.
And now it was over.
How did he let her go without figuring out some way to stay connected with her? An address? A phone number? Hell, even a last name. It wasn’t until he’d pulled up his phone and tried to Google her that Kyle realized he’d never gotten her last name. All he really knew about her was that she was a travel photographer from Portland. Well, and that her husky voice rose several registers when she screamed during orgasm. He’d discovered that last night.
Kyle’s eyes popped open. Remembering something Miranda had mentioned during their tour of the city, he pulled the magazine from the seatback pocket and started to flip through it, looking at the photographs. Or, more accurately, at the photographer credits next to the pictures.
When he ran across a gorgeous shot of a brilliant pink-and-purple sky glowing across the rippling waters of the North Atlantic near Reykjavik, Iceland, Kyle didn’t even have to look at the credit to know it was Miranda’s photograph. He could tell just by the story the picture told. He’d picked up on it while scrolling through her digital pictures yesterday. She didn’t just snap something because it was pretty. There had to be more behind it in order for something to catch her eye. A story to be told, a history.
Kyle looked at the photo’s credit line and broke out into a smile.
Miranda Lawson.
At least he had a full name now. He vowed not to turn into some creepy stalker, but he also could not accept that the few hours they’d shared together was the beginning, middle, and end of their story. The connection between them had been too strong just to give up on it.
Once the flight crew was done with their instructions and the plane took off, Kyle settled in for the long flight. Sleep continued to elude him, so he tried to ease his mind by watching an in-flight movie, but it never truly captured his attention.
He peered up the aisle toward the lavatory for the fourth time, but just as he started to unbuckle his seat belt, someone closer got up and slipped in there. Deciding not to wait any longer, Kyle released the buckle and headed for the facilities in the rear of the plane. He’d been sitting for over three hours already; he needed to stretch his legs.
He was nearing the back of the plane when a tall twentysomething, with blond dreadlocks and a scruffy beard, rose and opened the overhead compartment above his seat.
“Sorry,” the guy said in a thick British accent, looking down at Kyle. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“No problem,” Kyle lied.
He stood in the aisle, shifting from one foot to another. As his eyes roamed around the plane, they fell on a familiar face.
Kyle’s heart skittered to a stop.
Two rows down, in the middle seat on the plane’s right side, Miranda sat with her eyes closed, her face tilted skyward as she leaned back against the headrest.
“Miranda?” he said, walking toward her now that the guy with the dreads had taken his seat.
It’s when she didn’t answer that Kyle noticed the earbuds in her ears. He leaned over her seatmate, who had a newspaper spread out in his lap, and gently jostled her arm.
“Miranda,” Kyle said again.
She woke with a start. She looked around, blinking several times as if disoriented and trying to figure out just what was going on. Her eyes widened when she finally honed in on his face.
“Kyle? What . . . what are you doing here? I thought you left Istanbul at six a.m.?”
“My flight out of Istanbul was delayed,” Kyle answered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were connecting in London when I mentioned it last night?”
The stodgy man in the tweed jacket sitting next to Miranda loudly cleared his throat.
Ignoring her seatmate’s irritated look, Kyle gestured toward the back of the plane. “Come with me for a minute,” he said. Not because he gave a damn about the curmudgeon glaring at him, but because he didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience.
Miranda glanced at the man next to her, then back at Kyle.
“I meant what I said last night,” she said to him. “What we shared was lovely, but it needs to remain back in Istanbul.”
No. No way.
She may want it to stay in Istanbul, but there was something larger at play here.
What were the odds of his flight being grounded for two hours on the tarmac in Istanbul? And then, of all the flights out of London back to the States, to end up on the very same one with her?
Heck, the fact that he’d spotted her on the plane, when—with the size of this vessel—it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the people sitting in business class would never come in contact with those in the rear of the plane.
Coincidence only went so far. When things started to bombard him the way they had when it came to Miranda, the only answer Kyle could possibly accept is that it was meant to be.
“Just come to the back with me for a few minutes,” he asked.
The flight attendant, whom Kyle had noticed a moment ago out of the corner of his eye, came up to him. “Sir, we ask that you keep the aisle clear.”
“Miranda, please,” Kyle pleaded.
Expelling a deep breath, she unhooked her seat belt and rose from the seat, murmuring an apology to the old man as she squeezed past his legs.
Kyle nearly choke
d on the relief that crashed through him. He gestured for her to go ahead of him, following her to the rear of the plane where the flight attendants were preparing the meal carts.
It wasn’t until he encountered the lavatories that Kyle remembered that using the restroom was his original purpose for walking back this way. There was no way he was taking a bathroom break right now, not when he had Miranda right here.
Yet, now that she was here, Kyle didn’t know where to begin.
He started with the question he’d asked a few moments ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were connecting out of London? And out of Denver,” he tacked on, realizing that it should have rung a bell for her the minute he told her he was from Denver.
“I didn’t think it mattered, once you mentioned that you were on the early flight out of Ataturk International. I figured you would have left London by the time I landed here for my connection.”
“And Denver?”
“I have a one-hour layover in Denver.”
Several uncomfortable moments ticked by as Kyle tried to think of something else to say. It occurred to him how strange it felt. Even though they’d only met two days ago, there had never been any awkwardness between them the entire time they were together. Everything had been so easy.
It could be that way again.
“I don’t want this to be the end, Miranda,” he told her. “Why are you insisting that it has to be?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked toward the flight attendants. All three were still getting the meals together, but it was more than obvious that they were hanging on to their every word. Kyle didn’t give a damn what they heard. He would never see them again.
Miranda, on the other hand, he did want to see again. And again. And again.
He had to make that happen.
“So?” Kyle asked. “Why, Miranda?”
She hunched her shoulders. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It just seems like a complication that I don’t need.”
“A complication? What about the last couple of days has been complicated? They’ve been two of the best days of my life.”
“Kyle—”
“I’m not asking to move in together.” He held his hands out, imploring her to give this just a small chance. “All I want is a phone number. Just a promise that we can at least talk and get to know each other better. I want to call you the day after tomorrow and wish you ‘Merry Christmas.’ Is there anything wrong with that?”
Kyle took a step toward her, bringing their bodies within inches of each other in the limited space.
He linked their hands together and gave her palms a slight squeeze.
“It may turn out that all we gain is friendship, and if that’s the case, I’m fine with it. But we clicked. We can’t just sever the connection we made over these past two days. Life is too short to let go of something so special. You never know if you’ll ever find it again.”
Caution mingled with the tiniest hint of optimism in her warm brown eyes.
“Excuse us, but we’re going to start the dinner service in just a few minutes,” one of the flight attendants said. “If you don’t mind returning to your seats.”
“Miranda,” Kyle implored.
She glanced over at the flight attendants, then back to him. She released a shaky breath before a genuine smile stretched across her beautiful face.
“Okay,” she said. “Follow me back to my seat. I have business cards. It has all of my contact info, even Facebook.”
Relief crashed through him with the force of a typhoon.
Was it a Christmas miracle? Luck? A combination of both?
Kyle didn’t know what was at play here, and he wasn’t going to take much time trying to figure it out. All he knew was that he’d found Miranda for the second time in two days. And he wasn’t about to let her go.
* * *
By the time the distinctive peaked roof of Denver International Airport came into view, Miranda was finally back in control of her breathing. Knowing Kyle sat just a few yards ahead of her kept her rattled the entire flight. He never returned to the back of the plane, but Miranda suspected that he’d likely fallen asleep once he returned to his seat, given how little sleep they’d both achieved last night.
The clack of seat belts being released sounded throughout the plane the minute the bell dinged, indicating that guests were cleared to deplane. Miranda waited patiently while everyone else around her jumped up like their seats were on fire, only to stand in the aisle for ten minutes while the travelers ahead of them slowly exited the plane. She joined in with the sea of passengers who’d endured the long transatlantic flight, the collective jet lag a tangible thing around them.
When she cleared the gangway, Kyle was waiting at the gate.
He hunched his shoulders. “It seemed rude not to wait for you.”
Miranda couldn’t hold back her smile, charmed by his little show of chivalry. “Thank you,” she said. “I just hope you don’t mind sprinting through Customs. I have less than an hour before my flight to Portland starts to board.”
Kyle gestured over her shoulder. “You may want to check on your flight.”
Miranda turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded the airport and her stomach dropped. It looked as if Armageddon was just on the other side of the mountain. Dark, snow-laden clouds swirled.
She threw her head back and sighed at the ceiling. “Why didn’t I think of this before booking a flight that connected through Denver?” She walked over to the electronic departure and arrival screens, her eyes seeking out the flights to Portland. She spotted her flight, relieved to see that it was only delayed by twenty minutes.
“I’m okay with a slight delay,” Miranda said. “It gives me a bit of breathing room to make it through Customs. Let’s get there before the line gets too long.”
As expected, the journey through U.S. Customs was an exercise in surviving chaos. It was the day before Christmas Eve, after all—the time of year when people bit the bullet and maxed out their credit cards for flights home so that they could be with their families.
Miranda ignored the pang of sorrow that rang through her chest.
She’d managed to make it through yesterday without losing it; she could surely make it through the rest of the holiday season. Besides, for the first time in a very long time, she actually had a reason to celebrate Christmas. Miranda had to remind herself that this year marked a fresh start for her. She could do this. She would be back in Portland by 10 p.m. and in her bed before midnight. She would spend tomorrow psyching herself up for spending Christmas Day with Erin and her family.
Yes, she could do this. She would do this. She owed it to herself and to her family to move on with her life finally.
She and Kyle made it through Customs without a minute for Miranda to spare. When they came to the checkpoint where only people with boarding passes for domestic flights would be allowed to pass, she felt a tightness in her throat.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Miranda said, holding her hand out to him.
Kyle captured it and pulled her in closer. “For now,” he said. “That’s what we agreed on, remember?”
“Yes, for now,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek. “Have a merry Christmas, Kyle.”
He captured her jaw in his palm and slanted his lips over hers. Miranda’s knees went liquid, but she managed to hold herself upright. She would try to figure out just how she was able to accomplish that feat later, once her brain was back to operating at a normal level.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered against her lips.
Just as she started to pull away, a collective groan resonated around the concourse, followed by grumbles and a few very choice words that didn’t reflect the holiday spirit.
“What happened?” Miranda said, looking around.
Kyle pointed behind her.
Miranda followed his direction and let out her own choice word. The entire screen of departures had just turned red with CA
NCELED listed next to each flight.
“Noooo,” she groaned. “This is not happening.”
She and Kyle walked over to one of the flat-screen televisions mounted from the ceiling. The brunette meteorologist stood before a weather map, her hand moving over a circular mass that was steadily encroaching on the Denver area.
“I have to find out if there are any later flights I can get on,” Miranda said.
“I doubt that,” came a voice from behind them.
Miranda turned to find the flight attendant from their flight from London. It was the same one who’d chastised Kyle about standing in the aisle.
“From what we’re being told, there will be no flights in or out of Denver for the next twenty-four hours,” the flight attendant said.
“You have got to be kidding me.” She turned to Kyle. “This is unbelievable.”
“Actually, this is Denver in the dead of winter,” he said. “It’s not all that uncommon.”
“Why didn’t I think about this before booking through Denver?” she asked again. Miranda sighed at her own carelessness. She was usually better at planning her travels, but she’d had more on her mind than usual this year. “I guess I need to find a hotel,” she said.
“Good luck finding one this close to Christmas,” the flight attendant said before rejoining the rest of the flight crew.
Miranda turned back to Kyle to find him staring at her as if she’d just sprouted reindeer horns.
“What?” Miranda asked.
“Do you really think I’d let you stay in a hotel instead of with me?”
“But don’t you live an hour away?”
He just continued to stare at her with that look that brooked no argument.
Miranda hunched her shoulders. “My options are pretty limited, so I guess that means I’m spending the night with you.”
“It was never a question,” Kyle said.
She sidled up to him, unable to contain her grin. “I had no idea you were so demanding.”
“Only when it’s something I really want,” he answered. “But don’t think that I’m expecting some sex-filled free-for-all. That’s not why I asked you to come over. Demanded you come over,” he amended.
