by Jill Shalvis
“In fact, risk is a bad word in my book,” she continued. “A really bad word, as bad as—as—”
“As…?”
“As…oh never mind!”
Above them, the intercom buzzed, then Mrs. Giddeon paged Katie to the front desk.
With a cry of what could only be relief, Katie broke free, brushing against him as she ran off down the hall.
Good, Bryan decided. He shouldn’t have teased her. He had absolutely no idea what had come over him. He could really care less that she wanted Matt, that she wasn’t his type. It wasn’t his problem.
Five minutes later he walked into his office and faced his two other pilots, both of whom looked at him and laughed. He looked down.
And saw two perfect handprints—made from dirt—on his white shirt. “Very funny,” he said, but he wasn’t annoyed, just strangely unsettled.
Katie might be a novice where men were concerned, but she’d accomplished something no woman other than his sisters and mother ever had.
She’d left her mark on him.
3
“LORDIE, would you look at that?” Julie murmured beneath her breath to Katie.
At the voice of her friend and co-worker, Katie looked up from her notes for the upcoming staff meeting, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Cassandra and Eloise filed into the conference room, followed by Dale, Jack, Evan and Mrs. Giddeon. Everyone looked perfectly normal, even Holly, as she sauntered in.
Then she caught the newest arrival.
Bryan.
That her belly gave a little quiver really got to her. “Him?” she asked Julie, who was practically drooling.
“Him,” Julie answered breathlessly. “Wow.”
Granted he was tall, dark and…okay, gorgeous. So what? And yet for some reason that only upped her annoyance factor, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Even worse, she was hit with a strange sense of…awareness?
She didn’t understand it, but she didn’t appear to suffer the enigmatic problem alone. Apparently every female in the room was afflicted. Even Holly, who managed to maneuver herself close to him.
Watch out, Katie wanted to warn him. Holly was looking as predatory as she had…oh, about one minute before she’d stolen Katie’s fiancé three years ago.
Beneath her own Christmas tree no less.
Old times, she reminded herself. Forget it.
And anyway, where was Matt?
She’d been hoping for a few minutes alone with him to discuss their kiss. It’d been three days!
But still, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Bryan. She had to admit the man had a presence. The very air around him seemed to change, shimmer with an aura of excitement. Thrill.
Danger.
That presence wasn’t put on, like it was with so many daredevils. Nope, all that edgy restlessness came utterly naturally to him.
Which was exactly why Katie didn’t—couldn’t—like him.
“There’s something not quite tame about that man,” Julie announced in a conspirator’s whisper. She shivered with delight.
To Katie there was nothing even remotely exciting about it. Her father had flown stunts. He’d done things no one else would even consider and had still craved more, even putting aside the needs of his own family in order to get it. He’d been grown-up enough to have a family, but not mature enough to want to be with that family. Her father was always pushing the envelope, and always going full speed ahead. Always wanting, craving, yearning, burning for something just out of his reach.
He’d found it in testing experimental aircraft.
Oh, and it had also killed him.
Katie tried to swallow the nearly twenty-year-old resentment and only managed to swallow her last piece of gum, which left a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She could never fall for a man like that, one who wasn’t mature enough to put fun on the back burner in the favor of a quiet, lasting, enduring relationship.
Julie looked at her. “Are you telling me you don’t think he’s spectacular?”
Well, she was human. Female human. She could admit Bryan’s broad shoulders, so perfectly covered in his white pilot’s shirt, were nice, very nice indeed. So were his long, long, powerfully built legs, which were in dark-blue trousers fitted in a way that might have made her sigh in feminine appreciation if she was weak enough to sigh over such things. He had his aviator sunglasses tucked in his front pocket, his sleeves shoved up instead of rolled, and scuffed work boots on his feet. His hair was tousled as if he’d been running his fingers through it.
Gorgeously rumpled, she supposed was the correct term.
But it was his face that held her; the rugged, tanned, lived-in face. The one that had laugh lines around his generous mouth and smile creases around his sharp eyes, eyes that told her what she needed to know—he actively recruited fun and trouble, and—
Darn it.
He caught her staring at him.
No surprise, no discomfort, not for this man, who was probably used to being stared at. He merely absorbed her gaze, gave her a quick wink and a slow grin.
And in spite of her embarrassment and irritation, something strange happened. Something…almost familiar.
What was it about him?
Why did she feel as if…they knew each other? As if she’d kissed him instead of Matt? She nearly laughed out loud at that, because really, she knew who she’d kissed.
Matt stepped into the room then, a very welcome sight indeed. His hair was perfectly groomed, his shirt perfectly ironed, his trousers perfectly styled.
Everything about him was perfect.
Only, oddly enough, the little flicker of awareness, the one Bryan had caused, died. Died.
And Katie went cold.
She had kissed Matt. Right? Well, of course she had, what a ridiculous notion, one she put right out of her thoughts. Instead, she concentrated on smiling a welcome smile. Only Matt’s nose was in his notes and without even glancing in her direction, he sat directly across from her. He was distracted, she decided, and very busy. She understood that. Still, her smile faded with the slight, unintentional as it was.
Yes, Matt was the perfect man for her, but she did expect to get noticed at least. Determined to get a reaction, she pasted on a new smile. “Hello, Matt.”
“Hmm?” Matt lifted his head, blinked her into focus. “Oh. Hello.” He even returned her smile, blossoming her hopes, but then he went back to his notes.
Sedate and mature were fine qualities, but this was getting ridiculous. “I was wondering about the party.” This time he didn’t so much as lift his head from his work, and Katie went from vexed to insulted. “And the decorations,” she added. “Specifically the mistletoe.”
Matt sent her an absent smile at that. His face was open, easy to read and utterly serene. Nothing bothered him, or very little. He was a peaceful, quiet, reserved man. The perfect man, she reminded herself.
So why did she feel like smacking him? Oh, yes, because he wasn’t acknowledging their hot kiss!
“The mistletoe was a great idea,” he allowed. “I already mentioned that.”
“Yes, but—”
“For God’s sake man, she’s trying to ask you about the use of it.” Bryan merely smiled sweetly at Katie when she stared at him. “Aren’t you?”
“I…well…” How did he know? And why was she feeling that feeling again, the one that made her insides tremble, the one she had thought Matt would give her?
Holly laughed, the sound easy and infectious. “Wasn’t it a grand party? I know for a fact that every single one of those strategically hung plants got good use.” She smiled slyly at Matt, who blushed.
Blushed!
Katie stared at him in dismay. For days she’d been attempting to get a reaction from him and had gotten nothing. Then Holly says one little thing and he blushes! Frustrated, she glared down at her stack of notes, mail and various pencils and stuff she’d brought with her to the meeting.
&nb
sp; Her heavy silver mail opener gleamed temptingly in the harsh office lights.
No, killing Holly right here would not be good office protocol, she decided, not even when the darn woman brushed part of Katie’s paperwork off the table.
“Oops,” Holly said lightly as everything scattered and entangled on the floor. She glanced over at Matt as she spoke to Katie. “Sorry.”
Katie glared at her—she’d done that on purpose!—but Holly didn’t notice, she was still staring at Matt. So Katie bent for the mess, and from her vantage point beneath the table, she had a front row seat of Holly slipping off her right heel and lifting her toes up to…Bryan’s lap! Her bright-red polished toes cradled the spot directly between his thighs…and squeezed.
He made a sound, though it was muffled to Katie because she was beneath the table. She watched as Bryan’s hand grabbed Holly’s ankle, his fingers gripping so hard his knuckles turned white.
They were playing hanky-panky, right here in the conference room and she had to witness it! Holly slid off her other heel, then lifted that leg up to Bryan’s lap as well.
Katie jerked back…and smacked her head on the underside of the table hard enough to rattle everyone’s water above. Whether it was the impact, or the resulting stars dancing in her head, or maybe the strangled sound Bryan made at the movement of Holly’s toes, Katie bit her tongue. “Ouch,” she muttered, just as Holly played twinkle toes with Bryan’s lap again.
Abruptly, he shoved back his chair and rose. He gathered his paperwork, and without another word, walked around the table.
Katie figured he’d sit right next to Holly, maybe for some more footsie action, but no such luck. He came around, passed Holly and sat…right next to Katie!
“Wow, he smells amazing,” Julie whispered in her ear.
Holly leaned across the table to Katie. “Switch spots with me, quick.”
Katie glanced at Bryan. He was looking a little ragged around the edges, and more than a little tense. A very unusual look for Mr. Casual.
“If you switch with her,” he said mildly, “I’ll tell Matt why you keep bringing up the mistletoe.”
Okay, switching was probably a bad idea.
But how did Bryan know that?
She blinked at him, considering, thoughts racing, and Bryan just sent her a slow, sure smile, a smile that tugged at every erogenous zone she had.
What was the matter with her?
Thankfully, Mr. Riggs, president and director of Wells Aviation, walked into the room then and Katie had other, more critical things to stress over.
Such as why she spent the next hour sniffing as unobtrusively as she could, obsessing over the fact that Julie had been correct.
Bryan did indeed smell pretty darn amazing.
BRYAN COULDN’T GET OUT of that meeting fast enough, couldn’t get outside, in the fresh chilly air, soon enough to suit him.
With relief, he headed for his scheduled flight, loving every moment of the next few hours as he charmed his passengers, then flew high in the air, in sweet control.
All too soon he was back in the lobby.
So was Holly.
“What was that about back there?” he demanded in a quiet but dangerous voice most people had the good sense to answer.
She played her tongue over the very corner of her mouth in a way Bryan was sure rendered most males completely stupid. Fortunately he was only slightly less stupid than the average man. “Holly.”
She smiled. “You mean when I put my foot on your—”
“You know that’s what I mean.”
“I could tell you liked it.”
So she had talented toes. “I want to know why you’re using me, and who you’re trying to make jealous.”
“Well that’s flattering.”
“Don’t play games with me.”
“But games are so much fun.”
“I don’t get it,” he said, genuinely baffled. “Why don’t you just go straight after whoever he is? I’m sure he’d fall right at your feet as all men do.”
“You haven’t.”
“But you don’t want me,” he pointed out, exasperated.
“Are you sure?”
This was why he kept women at arm’s length. But being the baby of a family with so many females, he’d been taught well. The last thing he needed was to let Holly—or any woman—get to him. Still annoyed, he looked through the glass windows and across the tarmac.
A figure walked behind the safety line toward hangar two.
Katie.
The most unusual thing happened. His heart stopped, then started again with a heavy beat. He found himself staring after her, which made no sense, no sense at all.
But there was something about her…
On impulse, he walked away from Holly without a backward glance and followed the flash of blue. He finally caught up with her in the long hallway between the mechanic’s hangar and the supply warehouse.
“Hey there,” he said.
She didn’t slow down, and he had to practically run to keep up with her. “Nice office meeting,” he said.
Nice office meeting.
Oh, wasn’t he just the conversation master? Grimacing, he shook his head and tried again. “You look pretty today.” Which was true, though he wished she would trade in those conservative outfits for something better suited to her petite yet curvaceous frame.
“Holly looks prettier,” she noted, still walking at nearly the speed of light. “If you tell her so, she’ll probably be so flattered you’ll be able to grope her back this time.”
“What?” He stopped to gape at her, but all that accomplished was to allow her to outdistance him. Her hips and sweet rear end were really moving now. Running to catch back up, he grabbed her arm to slow her down and turned her to face him.
“I said, if you tell her so,” she repeated dutifully. “You might—”
“I heard that part!” He must have missed something here. Katie’s face, usually calm, flashed annoyance, anger, even embarrassment.
The lightbulb finally clicked on in his dimwitted brain. “Holly told you about what she did—”
“No, I saw what she did, when she dropped my papers and I went under the table. I saw her foot—And then you— Oh, you know!”
Yeah, he knew. “Don’t you see what’s happening?” He was disturbed that she really didn’t appear to. And even more disgusted that it mattered so much to him. Since when did he care what people thought?
But he cared what she thought, he realized, and figured he’d dwell on that shocking fact later. “You saw exactly what Holly wanted you to.”
“What do you mean?”
He hated this. It was like being back in high school, and he’d really hated high school. He’d thought to wait to tell Katie the truth about the Santa thing, both because it amused him to keep the secret and because he took few things seriously other than flying.
But oddly enough, he was taking this very seriously. “I know you’re trying to get Matt to discuss your Christmas party kiss, but there’s a good reason he won’t.”
“I know.” She grimaced. “It’s because I’m Christmas cursed. I never should have made that stupid Christmas wish.”
“You’re…Christmas cursed?”
“Let’s just say Santa seems to lose my address.”
“And the Christmas wish thing?”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Oh, I think it probably is.”
“Okay, fine, I made a stupid wish to…” She blushed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Well, you’re a man…”
“Yes.” He had to smile. “That was too easy, try another question.”
She rolled her eyes. “Forget it, just forget it. It’s not important.”
Yes, it was, he could see that much. But so was this. “About that kiss, Katie—”
“I’d like to forget that, too.”
“Sorry, no can do.” He’d never forget it. “Matt
can’t discuss this with you. He can’t, Katie, because I’m the one who shared that kiss with you.”
Her mouth worked.
Opened.
Closed.
Opened again. “I kissed Matt,” she finally managed to say. “In the Santa costume.”
“No. You kissed me. In the Santa costume. And I think you already know it.”
“No.”
“Yes. Otherwise, how would I know about it?” He tried to smile, but truthfully the memory of her in that dress, pressed against him, her mouth on his, pretty much made it difficult. “I know if you think about it, you’ll see the truth. You’ve nearly recognized me every single day since.”
“In your dreams.”
“Really? Then why are you always staring at me?”
“I am not always staring at you!”
When he only waited patiently, she blew out a frustrated breath. “Much,” she muttered.
“I’m flattered,” he said.
“Don’t be! I did not kiss you!”
“I could prove it to you, if you’d like.”
4
HE COULD prove it to her.
Oh, Lord.
Katie’s palms were clammy, her heart raced.
The flu, she decided. It was just the flu coming on.
Which didn’t explain why the thought of him “proving it” to her had her nipples hard and achy.
Bryan kept his distance, but she felt the heat of him, the power in his big frame all the same, and she knew if she slid her arms around his neck and pressed close he’d make a rough, appreciative growl—
No. This was most definitely a road she did not want to travel.
Normally she was an easygoing person. Quiet and reserved, maybe even a little mousy, but she was working on that. And yet she wasn’t easygoing now. “How could you prove something that never happened?” she asked with remarkable—and totally false—calm.
“By kissing you again.”
She stared at him, and it wasn’t a loss of words that made speaking difficult, but that she had so much to say and no rationale left in which to say it. “No, you can’t kiss me.”
