Love on Landing

by Heather Thurmeier

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  Also by Heather Thurmeier

  About The e-Book You Have Purchased:

  Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the South African Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000."

  Cover Artist: Reese Dante

  Editor: Venus Cahill

  Love on Landing© 2012 Heather Thurmeier

  ISBN # 9781920501891

  Attention Readers: This book uses US English.

  All rights reserved.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

  PUBLISHER

  https://spsilverpublishing.com

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

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  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

  Dedication

  Dear friends, family and readers,

  This story is about following your dreams. Thank you for your continued support so that I can follow my dream and share stories like this one with you.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Vespa: Piaggio & C. S.p.A. Corporation Italy

  Louis Vuitton: Louis Vuitton Malletier Corporation France

  Dior: Christian Dior Couture

  Chanel: Chanel, Inc.

  Facebook: TheFacebook, Inc.

  Prada: Prefel S.A. Corporation

  Chapter One

  Tali Radcliff leaned her head back against the headrest and gazed out the window. Raindrops splattered onto the double-paned glass blurring her view of the runway. Not that she could look past her sad, pathetic reflection anyway.

  The reflection staring back at her turned the raindrops to tears on her cheeks and she instinctively wiped them away, only to find her cheeks sensitive and slightly swollen. She sighed and closed her eyes, desperately trying to block out the urge to start crying again. Instead, she focused on the white noise of the engines revving as the jet picked up speed for takeoff.

  Her body was pushed harder into the back of the soft, cream-colored leather seat, her stomach falling as the wheels of the aircraft left the solid tarmac below. The jet crept higher and higher, increasing the distance between Tali and the life she would temporarily leave behind—the heartache she tried so hard to forget.

  If only it were as easy as a little distance.

  "Don't do it," she whispered. "You left your tears in your bedroom, where they belong." A beauty queen never cries unless she's got a shiny new tiara on her head and a bouquet of fragrant flowers in her arms.

  It was a good rule of thumb to remember, one she'd learned long ago and tried to stick to at all cost. Of course, sometimes she had to give in and cry, but not often. Tali wasn't a crier, she was far too feisty to give in to silly tears.

  But sometimes tears came no matter how hard she fought against them. Like when her boyfriend Roger broke up with her for no good reason and was then spotted with Samantha two hours later. Yep. That was a good reason to cry.

  Roger can suck it.

  Tali opened her eyes when the aircraft leveled out as it reached its cruising altitude and grabbed her bag, dragging it onto the seat next to her. The shiny silver clasps clinked together on the seat as she pulled out her laptop. She flipped it open and signed on to her private in-flight Wi-Fi service.

  She clicked on the Facebook icon on her home screen and scrolled through her news feed. Halfway down the page, her gaze froze and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. No frickin' way.

  Roger Wilcox is engaged to Samantha Swanson.

  "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill him." She slammed the laptop closed again and tossed it back into the bag.

  How could he? How could he already be engaged to Samantha—Samantha Swanson of all people!—when he'd only broken up with Tali a couple of days ago? How does anyone fall in love so fast?

  Little two-timing jackoff. He had to have been cheating on me. That's how.

  That had to be it. There could be no other reason for two people to get engaged when one of them had "loved" someone else a mere forty-eight hours earlier.

  She'd only known one couple to fall in love that fast—Chase and Julia. They'd met at a club one night then Julia had become his new employee by accident a few days later. They'd fallen in love practically overnight. Tali had been so happy for them, and she'd hoped to find love herself. Then Roger came along and she thought he was the one.

  Tali didn't believe in fairytale love anymore. Love didn't happen in only a few days. She wasn't even sure she believed in a love of any kind after all this crap she'd recently been through with Roger.

  She fixed her tailored cotton blouse, pulling the edges of the material taut and smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. Well good for them. They were perfect for each other. Roger was a cocky asshole and Samantha would make a perfect accessory at the Yacht club.

  Tali never did like sailing anyway. All those waves usually made her feel queasy and when she mixed the waves with champagne cocktails, each day at sea became a disaster waiting to happen. Leaning over the railing of a ship, puking wasn't her most favorite position to be in with a man. Nope. Puke was no one's friend.

  So this was good.
She was good. They were good. Everything's great.

  Tali's chin threatened to quiver, but she clenched her jaw. She would not cry over Roger again. Period. End of story. Moving on.

  Speaking of moving, they'd only been in the air for a little while but her body already ached like it had been immobile for hours. She needed to clear her head, and since she couldn't, she would stretch her legs instead. She inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves and squashing her feelings back down where they belonged.

  There weren't many options of where to walk on the small private jet. She wandered to the back galley to talk to Sara the flight attendant, but she wasn't there. The little window above the handle on the lavatory door was red.

  Probably reading a book in there.

  She could've kicked herself for forgetting her novel. She'd been in such a hurry to pack her things and get to her flight she'd left her half-read book on her bedside table. She still had a couple of magazines tucked into her bag from her last trip to the beach, but she tired quickly of the glossy photos on every page illustrating a very small amount of text. Trashy tabloid magazines never held her attention for long.

  Tali groaned and wandered back through the plane to the front of the aircraft. If Sara didn't want to talk to her, at least Edgar would.

  Edgar had been her family's personal pilot for years and he always welcomed her into the cockpit for a visit during these long, boring, transatlantic flights. She had no idea how old he was, at least her father's age, but he was kind and always listened to her stories. Exactly what she needed right now—someone to listen to her, to tell her Roger was an idiot and she would be fine.

  Tali rapped on the closed cockpit door before pulling it open and stepping inside. "How's it going in here, Edgar?" She grabbed his arm, squeezing gently.

  He must be working out more. His biceps seemed larger and firmer than she expected them to. Lucky Mrs Edgar.

  "I'm not Edgar." The pilot turned, eying her up and down. "What are you doing in my cockpit?"

  Tali's mouth dropped open as she quickly took her hand back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The man staring at her with intense brown eyes was not Edgar.

  Oh no. Edgar was old. This man was not old. He was her age. And hot. No, make that gorgeous.

  She cleared her throat. "I should be the one asking you the questions." She turned to the co-pilot Cameron and was relieved to see his familiar face smiling back at her.

  "Hey, Tali," Cameron said.

  "Hey, Cam," she replied. "Who is this guy? What happened to Edgar?"

  "Didn't your father tell you? Edgar retired. This is Captain Taylor. He'll be flying with us from now on."

  Tali turned her attention back to the pilot. Her cheeks grew hot as she processed this information about Edgar and the new—ahem, sexy—pilot. Why wouldn't her father tell her to expect a new pilot so she wouldn't make a fool of herself? Didn't he realize how much she hated change when it was sprung on her like this? How much she hated being left out of the loop so she'd inevitably end up feeling stupid?

  "I wasn't told there would be someone new flying my plane."

  The man laughed and shook his head. "Your plane, huh? You Meadow girls are all the same," he mumbled under his breath.

  Her mind instantly thought of Samantha and her recent indiscretions. Tali could be a lot of things, but a cheater wasn't one of them.

  He did not just lump me together with girls like Samantha.

  "The last time I checked," the pilot continued, "I was the one sitting in the driver's seat, so I'm pretty sure that makes it my plane, at least for the duration of the flight. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave since it's against FAA laws to have passengers in the cockpit while the aircraft is in flight."

  Oh no. There was no way she was going to give up control of her own plane that easily. He might be the hired pilot, but it was still her damn plane. The initial sting of impending tears prickled her eyes. She clenched her jaw and steadied herself with a deep breath through her nose.

  She made her voice as calm as possible. "My family's monogram is on the tail of this plane. I'm pretty sure that makes it mine along with anything in it, including you."

  He stared at her without speaking before closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers in circles, massaging his temples. "So you want to have a pissing contest with me at thirty thousand feet? Great. Let me pull over for a minute so I can stroke your ego."

  Tali sucked in a breath. This had nothing to do with her ego. If it had anything to do with that, he'd be talking about her shoes since she felt completely trampled after the last twenty-four hours and her shoes were the only ego-worthy thing left about her. "Where do you get off being a jerk to the girl who signs your checks?"

  This man was infuriating, whoever the hell he was. Where did he get off speaking to her like this? No one spoke to her this way. Not if they wanted to keep their jobs.

  He smiled and a small dimple appeared in his cheek. The sight of it made her feel like swooning. She'd never swooned for anyone, for any reason before. Damn it. She wasn't about to start swooning now. She placed her hand on the back of the co-pilot's chair to steady her equilibrium and her will.

  Tali glared her challenge at the pilot, trying desperately not to notice the flecks of dark stubble along his strong jaw. How the man had stubble when it was barely mid-afternoon, she had no idea, but damn it looked good on him.

  So. Damn. Good.

  "I'm pretty sure it's your daddy's signature on the bottom of my checks so why don't you go back to your seat, read a trashy celebrity magazine and rest your pretty little head until we land in Paris. Leave the work to me, sweetheart."

  Tali huffed. How dare he insinuate she had nothing better to do than sit and read the trashy celebrity magazine tucked away in her handbag?

  He might be right, but he was still a jerk. She looked him over, sizing him up before answering and noticed his nametag read Gavin.

  Gavin. Sounds like an asshole-y kind of name.

  "How do you know this isn't a business trip to Paris, Gavin? How do you know I'm not sitting back there working on important documents instead of assuming I'm reading a trashy magazine?"

  A shiver of excitement tickled along her spine. Fighting with him was so infuriating and—exhilarating. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her hands almost shaking with the thrill of anticipation as she waited for his response.

  "That's Captain Taylor to you." He smirked. "Are you reading documents? Are you going to Paris for business?"

  Tali swallowed hard, but didn't break her eye contact with Captain Taylor. Never let them smell your fear, right? Or was that only for wild animals and not incredibly sexy looking pilots?

  "Well no," she said quietly. "I'm not actually looking at documents, but I am going to Paris for business."

  Sure, business.

  Getting over a jerk like Roger was really hard work and she absolutely needed a private meeting with Dior and Chanel. This business was critical to her mental wellbeing.

  Totally counts.

  Besides, nothing made her feel better than when she shopped for outfits for her little cousins. And there just so happened to be a super cute baby boutique down the street from Chanel. After she picked out a few outfits for them, there was no harm in stopping into Chanel for a few new outfits for herself. In fact it would be rude to Chanel not to stop by.

  See, public relations—totally business.

  A crooked eyebrow raise from Gavin told her he didn't believe her story about business meetings. She cleared her throat as she held his calculating gaze steady. She didn't have to prove anything to him. She did nothing but sit in boring business meeting usually. This was her trip, her vacation and she wasn't going to feel guilty about it.

  Damn those eyes of his were incredible. The longer she gazed at them, the more she couldn't look away. It was as if his eyes were polar opposites of hers—drawing her gaze into his with an invisible, unbreakable force field. Her breathing hitched under the unfamiliar int
ensity.

  "I'm sure your business with your personal shopper will be very ground breaking. Now if you'll excuse me, I really should focus on actually getting us to Paris." He turned his back to her and adjusted a few dials on the dashboard in front of him.

  The guy was something else. Did he have a strong desire to stand in the unemployment line when they got back to the US? Because at the rate he was going, she had every intention of reporting him to her father. She may not sign the checks, but she had her father wrapped nicely around her little finger.

  She spun on her heels and slammed the cockpit door on her way out. Sara glanced up from where she was now sitting in the seat across the aisle from Tali's seat.

  "Everything okay?" Sara asked, placing her novel in her lap. "You sounded mad at the door."

  "Peachy. Thanks. Can I get a diet soda, please?"

  Sara put her novel aside and walked to the galley in the back of the jet, leaving Tali alone with her thoughts. Angry, annoyed thoughts.

  She sat with a huff and pulled out the celebrity magazine she'd brought with her. She didn't give a damn if he saw her reading the magazine at this point. This was her plane. He was working for her family. She could do what she wanted without worrying about what he thought of her reading habits or vacation choice. If she wanted to shop until she dropped, that was her business.

  Flipping a few pages, she tried to get interested in what the hottest celebrities were wearing and what they most certainly shouldn't be wearing. That always cheered her up. Today however, all she saw when she stared at the pictures were images of Gavin smirking at her with an expression of "I knew it" on his face.

  "I don't like you," she whispered to the magazine, pretending the glossy photos were pictures of Gavin, then crammed it unceremoniously back into her bag.

  Tali pulled out her sketchbook and a charcoal pencil, and flipped to the first clean page she found. As she began to draw, playing with the thickness of the line as she pushed harder or softer on the pencil, a wave of warmth washed over her. Her heartbeat faded back into her subconscious, her hands stopped shaking, and her breathing came in slow steady breaths.