by Geri Foster
Emily shook her head. “So everything must have been in order.”
“I told you.”
Inside the plane Mac flung his bag in the captain’s chair in front of him then dropped into the large two-seater in the middle aisle.
Emily reached up and took several pillows from the overhead bin and handed two to Mac before taking her seat. It would just be the three of them. Sam would fly them to Heathrow, and they’d catch a commercial flight from there.
After they were in the air, she’d make arrangements to get them home. Also, Brenda needed to know where she was, as well as her office staff, and her sister, of course.
For now, Emily couldn’t keep her eyes off Mac. Before today, the last time she’d seen him he had been knock down gorgeous-decked out in a sharp gray pin-striped suit with a red power tie and a crisp white shirt, Rolex and all. By all outward appearances he’d looked every bit the well-tailored businessman. Certainly not a man accused of punching Mexico’s ambassador and holding him at gunpoint until he secured a team member’s release.
No, not Mac.
Of course, she knew Mac didn’t wear a suit and tie every day. Not in his line of work. She guessed camouflage, black tee shirts and combat boots.
The things these elite warriors managed to accomplish would astound the American public. But again, they kept the country safe and constantly battled evil forces.
Sam came to see that they were secure. “I talked to Stromberg and everything is fine. We’ll be leaving any minute. We’re waiting for the okay from the control tower.”
Emily looked out the window at the wet tarmac and wondered what had happened back at the hotel, and why. Who wanted to kill Mac? And why put all those innocent people in harm’s way?
Needing a drink, Emily stood and went to the fridge in the galley. She brought back two bottles of water and handed one to Mac. He took several gulps before looking at her with a smile on his lips.
The luxurious interior of the plane was top of the line. Oversized, beige leather recliners, an eating area, a lounge, a fridge full of food and cupboards stocked with liquor. There was even a nice warming oven for hot towels.
No galley, but there was a great sound system, and pillows. Lights everywhere, but you could darken the cabin for sleep with the touch of a button.
A mixture of clean vanilla and expansive leather drew her into a comfort zone she badly needed.
All the comforts of home, but she was wet and dirty.
The radioed voice from the cockpit announced they were to prepare to taxi to runway number two. It had seemed they waited an eternity. The plane crept backwards from the terminal and Sam lined them up perfectly for takeoff. Soon they’d be on their way home.
“What the hell?” Sam shouted.
Emily released her seatbelt and moved to the cockpit. Two vehicles raced toward them from the right. Sirens blared, red lights flashed. In the lead car a man hung out the window with a huge weapon pointed at them.
Sam hit the brakes as a loud boom shook the aircraft. Unable to tear her gaze away, Emily watched as a large projectile with a fiery tail streaked toward them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Outside the window of the Cessna Mac spotted two cars speeding across the tarmac toward their aircraft. An RPG hung out the side window of one vehicle with the business end pointed right at them.
Cold sweat popped out of every pore on his body, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer. How in the hell were they followed? By who? And why? After years of being an agent, Mac had an instinct about these things, and right now nothing added up.
Fearing their chances were slim to zero, Mac shot from his seat and darted to the small cockpit. Taking the co-pilot’s seat, he grabbed the throttle and slammed it forward, accelerating the aircraft’s speed toward takeoff.
The engines roared as the plane raced down the runway close to 180 mph, body-slamming everyone backwards. A missile whizzed past the windshield and crashed into a cargo hanger. The smell of jet fuel filled the cabin of the small plane. Smoke and fire shot skyward and made him cover his eyes against the flare. Before the killer could reload, Mac revved the engines again.
“Are you bloody insane?” Sam demanded.
Pulling the yoke toward his chest, the nose of the jet lifted, taking them airborne. Mac secured his seat belt, praying whoever was in the tower radioed for other aircraft to get the hell out of the way. The plane bucked as another RPG whizzed over the left wing. Between Emily’s screams and Sam’s blustering, Mac kept climbing for altitude.
Sam struggled to pry Mac’s fingers off the throttle.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Emily screamed.
“Getting us out of here.”
“Sir!” The pilot shouted as he wrestled to gain control of the plane. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m responsible for this aircraft,” Sam argued in his clipped British accent. “I insist you return to the airfield this instant.”
“No fucking way,” Mac said, stiff arming the pilot away from the controls. “Em put your phone on speaker and dial Frank.”
When he heard no response, Mac glanced at Emily. Judging by her wide-eyed expression and rapid breathing, she appeared to be stunned speechless and on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Any day now, Em,” Mac bit out between clenched teeth.
Visibly trembling, she nodded then proceeded to drop her cell phone . . .twice.
“Now, Em!”
“I’m trying!” she screamed as the call connected.
“What the hell is going on there?” Frank’s voice demanded through the tiny speaker, getting their attention like the deafening blast from a canon.
“Frank, it’s Mac.”
“So, I gathered. Where are you?”
“We’ve been chased out of Russia. We’re in the air but the pilot wants to return back to the airport. We can’t do that and live to fill out all the damn paperwork.”
“Okay,” Frank said. “What your name, pilot?”
Smashed against his side of the cockpit, the older man replied, “I’m Sam Malloy. I work for Stromberg Chemicals. Sir, I can’t allow this aircraft to be hijacked. I demand you instruct whoever this person is to release the controls immediately.”
“Sam, I’ve spoken with Walter Metcalf, the CEO of Stromberg, and he’s assured me of his company’s complete cooperation with getting my man out of there.” Frank paused. “Now, I’m sure you have to check this out, if you haven’t already. But I’d advise you to go ahead and fly the plane because last I checked, Mac isn’t a pilot.”
“What!” Em and Sam screamed at the same time.
“He’s a damn good swimmer,” Frank added. “But he’s no pilot.”
Mac snorted at the revelation. Maybe he couldn’t fly, but he’d gotten their asses out of there before someone managed to kill them.
Releasing his grip on Sam, Mac hoped the pilot wouldn’t have a heart attack before getting his seat back.
“We all good?” Frank asked.
Securely back in control of the plane, Sam clutched the controls like a sixteen-year-old with his first lover.
“Yeah,” Mac replied.
Holding him hostage with her mean mediator glare, Em grabbed his arm. “That was a stupid thing to do,” she said through tight lips. “We could have been killed.” She released him only to squeeze the bridge of her nose. A very perfect nose.
He leaned down and looked out the window. “We’re not out of the woods yet. The only reason another missile isn’t heading our way is the guy’s probably out of ammo.”
“Still, you don’t know how to fly a plane, Mac.”
“I don’t know how to do a lot of things, but that doesn’t keep me from doing what I have to do to stay alive until help arrives.”
Arms crossed beneath her breasts, Emily turned and stomped to her seat. “You’re insane.”
Mac scrubbed his face and rubbed his eyes. Maybe she’s right, but when I find out who’s behind this mess, somebody’s goin
g to die.
Damn, his heart hadn’t settled down yet. Out of adrenaline, the nice leather recliner looked tempting as hell. On his way out he closed to door between the cockpit and the cabin. “I’m tired.”
“I’m sure you are after that harrying ride you just gave us.”
Smiling, he looked over at her. “Least I sobered up your sweet ass.”
Opening her mouth to obviously correct him, she stopped, closed her lips tight and shook her head instead. Nostrils flaring, she savagely yanked on the hem of her soiled, silk blouse, pressed her hands down the front of her linen skirt then turned away like she’d smelled something foul.
“I had two drinks.” The glare she threw at him over her shoulder double dared him to challenge her.
The only noticed how the light reflected off the softer shades of red in her hair, how her gorgeous eyes sparkled and the glow of her fresh complexion. No, he changed his mind. Gorgeous didn’t come close to describing those eyes. He couldn’t think of a word that would. Up went the tempo of his heart rate again.
His laughter echoed through the cabin. Em was one smart lady. And he kind of liked that she didn’t take his shit. Damn, he wanted her. Worse...he almost liked her.
After he quit laughing, Mac dropped to the comfortable recliner beside Emily and laid his head back and took a deep breath. If she ever suspected how damn scared he’d been, she’d faint. Nothing in his arsenal of good ideas had assured him he’d get the plane off the ground. He hated to think what would have happened if he’d failed, worse...if the other guys had succeeded.
After being up for three days his head banged hard as a rapper’s boom box. Stomach wasn’t much better. It turned somersaults like a gymnast at the Olympics. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and energy seeped from his body as the events of the last three days finally caught up with him.
“I can’t believe you tried to fly a plane with two innocent lives aboard.”
He opened his eyes. “I could have let the RPG take us out.”
“You could have stayed out of my hotel room.”
“Then I’d be dead.”
Her cheeks reddened from his insult. She didn’t reply and he knew why. Unintentionally, he’d pushed a button. Obviously, Emily didn’t like being responsible for harming anyone. A do-gooder, and those people usually got people like him killed.
However...
Leaning closer and propping up on his elbow, he looked at her. Her shoulders sagged and the sadness in her eyes pulled Mac in a way he didn’t like.
As a man who’d fought most of his adult life, Mac recognized innocence no matter how it came packaged, and that’s what Emily’s whole demeanor reeked of. No doubt she lived a completely blameless life. He felt that in his chest and knew it in his heart.
You could preach till you ran out of breath, but Mac knew there was no God in what he did. He killed bad guys and had learned to live with that choice years ago. If he hadn’t, he’d either be an alcoholic or a manic depressant. Everyone knew people like that couldn’t help anyone. No, killing never came easy, but it was a necessary evil, and oftentimes he played the boogieman.
There was nothing he’d like more than to take Em into his arms and make her feel better. But his job didn’t work that way. You either dealt with the carnage on your own, or you let it envelop and consume you.
He wasn’t sure what he’d said, but her sobs kept him from falling asleep or passing out, but not in a bad way. There was something healing and cleansing about a woman’s tears. Especially when whatever had happened wasn’t entirely his fault.
Letting go of all restraint, Mac lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t resist or lean in to him. She simply allowed. A kiss was a kiss, but this proved to be something special. She tasted delicious, open and so damn soft he wanted to melt into her and stay there. Salty tears flirted with the corners of his lips and touched his soul. Nothing existed except her and him.
He pulled her closer, waiting for a protest. When none came, he deepened the kiss. His sensory organs went into overdrive. His breathing hitched, his heart rate accelerated again and his dick immediately came to attention. He smelled her. The scent of a woman consumed by want.
Hands on her back he pulled her closer. In a haze of desire he heard her let out a sleepy little moan, and Mac almost lost it. His tongue went on surveillance and what he found shocked and delighted him in a gentle and endearing way. In his whole life, Mac had never kissed a woman like Emily. While in the back of his mind he kept reminding himself that he didn’t particularly like her, his body betrayed him and made its own assessment.
Heat swallowed him when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Mac stood at heaven’s gates and they were wide open. Slowly he ran his fingers through her silky hair. Craving more, he opened his mouth wider and covered hers completely. Refusing to release her, his head started to spin.
Man, this could go on forever.
He wasn’t sure how it happened but her skirt came up around her waist, and Mac stroked her long smooth legs as they wrapped around his hips.
Turbulence bounced the airplane but he didn’t care. He had more urgent matters to be concerned with. Like sex with the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life.
They broke apart only long enough for Em to open his jeans and him slip a foil packet from his back pocket. After slipping on the condom he shoved aside her thong and as smooth as silk he slipped inside her and found her wet and tight. The lights were dim but Mac looked up to see her eyes smoldering dark with desire and need.
He gently cupped her breasts and moaned to learn they fit perfectly into his palms. Even through her bra and silk shirt her stiff nipples raked his hands and he gently squeezed them with his fingers. Em rose up only to slowly lower herself on to him, driving him deeper into her sex. A moan escaped her lips as she gasped to breathe.
Her perfume intoxicated him quicker than a double shot of whiskey. The delicate touch of her skin drove his further.
Mac thought he’d explode any minute, but not until he heard Em reached her release. She tossed her hair back and grinded against him. Mac took her hips and set a perfect rhythm for both of them. In and out, up and down. Mac couldn’t take much more before he’d embarrassed himself by coming too soon. She pulsed around him, making Mac grit his teeth and inwardly beg for mercy.
She cried out and her warm juices flushed around his cock and Mac’s release crashed through him. Sensation ran the length of his spine and back to his scrotum. His come vaulted out of the tip, spilling inside her in a rush of heat.
Both gasping, Mac kissed her swollen lips before enclosing her in his embrace.
***
When Mac woke, Em lay curled against him sound asleep. They were still on the plane, still in the recliner when his ears popped then Sam’s voice came over the intercom.
“Please secure your seatbelts. We will be landing in twenty minutes.”
Mac pushed up and tried to clear his head. Em had her back to him with her arms curled beneath her cheek for a pillow. Her nice round butt Velcroed to his crotch. Gently, Mac put his hand on her hip and shook her awake.
“Where are we?”
“Ready to land. You need to buckle up.”
Sleepy-eyed, she slowly traveled back to the present. As she sat up, she shoved her hair out of her face and smacked her lips. Yawning, she raised her arms above her head and stretched. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but Mac loved the way her shirt’s silk fabric molded around her firm breasts.
Getting to her feet, she moved across the aisle and sat staring straight ahead. The silence bugged him. Had she forgotten they’d just had sex? He sure the hell hadn’t.
Tongue tracing her lips, Emily pressed her hands down her skirt then pulled at her blouse. Without looking at him, she quietly slipped back into her high heels.
He asked, “You okay?”
She pressed her lips together and blinked. “I’m fine.” For some unknown reason she went stiff and formal. Bac
k to being a lawyer and in control. And if his guess was right...she had one hell of a headache.
“We’re ten minutes away from landing,” Sam announced. “We’ll be arriving at terminal one, gate six.” The cockpit door stood open so Sam could see them. “Have you made the necessary arrangements, Miss Richards?” Sam asked over his shoulder.
“Yes,” she replied. “We have a four hour layover, so I’m sure we can easily go through customs, and get to our gate on time.”
“Very well, Miss Richards.”
“Once we land,” Mac said, “I’ll need to use your cell phone to get in touch with Frank again,”
Emily nodded. ”I told him about our plans, but he said to keep him posted.”
“Did you tell him about the guys blowing up the hotel?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I thought you might want to give him that news.”
“Okay, when we land, I’ll take care of it.”
Out of nowhere, she said, “Do you think the guys at the hotel are connected to the same ones who chased us to the airport?”
“Damned if I know.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck. “I pretty much took care of the Russians. And anything left behind, Jake cleaned up. So, I’m not sure what’s going on. I can’t think of anyone who’d want to kill me. At least not right now.”
“Eight hours ago, I wanted to kill you,” she said lightheartedly.
He squinted and flashed a knowing grin. “You sure about that? Not long ago you were Saran Wrap and I was a leftover casserole.”
An impish grin pulled back the corners of her lips as she blushed then slumped back in her seat. “I just want this over. I’d love to get back to my nice boring life.”
He chuckled. “What the hell is that like?”
Smiling, she said, “Boring.” She sat up. “And very predictable.”
“Oh, you like predictable?” Mac stretched out his legs where their feet were side by side. “Or do you like spontaneity?”
She leaned over, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, and whispered, “Both.”
Strange, Mac couldn’t remember the last time he openly flirted with a woman. Emily had a way of making him feel things he’d buried long ago. Things that came in the middle of the night and forced him to care. Who would have thought Em, the tight-assed company attorney, was secretly sweet, funny and unique? It surprised and reminded him of all the shortcomings in his personal life.
