Crash Landing

by Lori Wilde

  Wow. He’d done all that? She was duly impressed.

  “Those matches. I need them now,” he said.

  “Um, sure.”

  He kept staring at her.

  “I’ll just go get them out of the cargo hold.” She walked backward toward the rear of the plane. She didn’t want him looking at her butt again. Why had she worn shorts this short?

  His smile never wavered. The breeze ruffled his sandy-blond hair and raised goose bumps over her skin. What would it be like to pull him down in the sand and ravage him? She’d never made out on the beach before, odd considering she came from a country that bordered the sea. But you know what? Out here in the middle of nowhere, she wouldn’t mind giving it a go with Gibb.

  Knock it off.

  She had no choice but to turn her back on Gibb in order to dig the matches out of the cargo hold. She knew, without peeping over her shoulder, that he was still staring at her.

  Hormones fluttered inside her like butterflies dancing around spoiled bananas. Her good intentions disappeared with the setting sun. Darkness had a way of making a girl feel so naughty. Why make out on the gritty sand when there was a nice blanket right here in the back of her plane?

  Quit it!

  Curling her fingers around the lightweight thermal blanket, she closed her eyes. He was a guest at the place where she worked. Hands off, no fraternization with the guests. It was a good gig and she certainly did not want to do anything that would cause her to lose her contract with them.

  “Can’t find the matches?”

  Her eyes flew open. There was Gibb at her elbow looking sexy enough to seduce her without saying a word.

  “Here.” Her voice was shaky as she passed him the matches.

  Their fingers touched.

  Talk about igniting the flame. She was almost panting.

  His smile said he knew every wayward thought flying through her head because they were flying through his, too. Weakly, she sank against the side of the plane, the blanket clutched to her chest as he strode off.

  This time, she was the one to stare at his butt.

  6

  WITH THE WIND blowing off the water and the sun’s vanishing act, the temperature was cooling down. Sophia wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a shawl and wandered over to the fire pit. Gibb squatted to light an accumulation of dried leaves, sea grasses and twigs. After several minutes of nurturing the fledgling fire, he built it into a crackling blaze.

  “Now.” He straightened. “What were you saying earlier about cooking something to eat? I’m starving.”

  “I have a cooler with iced beer, wieners and hot dog buns in the plane.”

  “You carry wieners with you wherever you go?”

  “Not normally, but I was heading over to my friend’s house for a cookout after work before you demanded that I fly you to Florida.”

  “Would this be your male friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “I would say that I’m sorry I interrupted your evening, but I’m not.”

  What did he mean by that? She glanced up and met his eyes—eyes full of desire.

  For her!

  Her stomach knotted and she tightened her grip on the blanket. Emilio didn’t know yet that they were only going to be friends. She felt so disloyal lusting after Gibb when Emilio was back home unaware. She was absolutely, positively not doing anything with Gibb, no matter how much his sultry looks made her body shiver.

  “I’ll go get the cooler,” she mumbled, ducking her head. Making eye contact with him was dangerous. Already, she felt edgy, achy and the sexual tension increased with every passing second.

  “Stay put. I’ll fetch the cooler,” he said. “You’re shivering.”

  Not from the cold, but from being so near him. “Okay.”

  He trotted away and for a few minutes she breathed easier until he returned with the red Igloo cooler and she made the mistake of meeting his eyes again.

  Whoosh! Five alarm blaze.

  From inside of her. Not out.

  She’d never experienced anything like this. Not ever. Too bad it was the kind of passion she’d always been searching for. Why did she have to find passion with a wealthy American? She belonged in his world about as much as a biplane belonged in the space program. And in her world, he was just another client, someone for her to fly where he needed to go.

  Except right now, they weren’t in either of their worlds. This was a strange no-man’s-land and that was the problem. No ground rules. No code of ethics. No road map.

  Gibb set down the cooler and scanned the area.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Something to use to skewer the wieners on.”

  Sophia burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?” He found a dead tree limb and broke off a couple of small branches.

  “Never in a million years would I have expected you to skewer wieners.”

  “Why not? I don’t look capable of wiener skewering?”

  “Caviar skewering, maybe, but wieners?” She shook her head. Then again, looks could be deceiving. With looks like his, he could have any woman he wanted skewering wieners for him.

  “Do you think I have a stick up my spine simply because I have money?”

  “Yes, sort of.”

  “What did I do to lead you to that assumption?”

  “You wear a suit. Every single day while you are at a mountain resort.”

  “I wasn’t there on vacation.”

  “So I gathered from your constant phone calls.”

  A suspicious expression crossed his face. “You’ve been watching me.”

  “I have.”

  He dropped the tree branches and stalked closer.

  She stepped back

  His eyes were narrowed. His body tensed.

  Her stomach fluttered. Every time he stared at her, it knocked her off-kilter. “What is wrong?”

  He moved closer. It was too close. “Are you a spy?”

  “Please do not get in my face,” she said calmly, even though her knees wobbled.

  “Are you a spy? It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”

  Where was this coming from? What was he talking about? “A spy?”

  “You heard me.”

  “For who?”

  “Anyone. Everyone. Fisby Corp.”

  “Who?” She blinked.

  He still hadn’t backed off. His face settled into lines. “If you’re not a spy, why were you watching me?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  “Why have I been watching you?” She swept a hand at his clothes. “Look at you. A gorgeous, exciting man in an Armani suit shows up in my quiet little corner of the world and I’m not supposed to look?”

  A toothy grin broke through the frown and his shoulders relaxed.

  “I am not a spy. You are simply...” she paused, searching for the right phrase “...eye candy.”

  * * *

  “YOU THINK I’M gorgeous and exciting?”

  “Oh, please, don’t even pretend you don’t know you’re the sexiest thing on two legs.”

  He raked his gaze over her. “Look who’s talking.”

  Sophia dug her bare toe in the ground. He said that now, but she could not compete with the likes of Blondie.

  “So are we cooking those wieners or not?” She changed the subject. There was already enough tension between them, best to smooth over the spy accusations.

  He retrieved the tree branches, skewered the wieners and handed one to her. They sat side by side on the sand roasting the meat and drinking beer.

  “Why did you think I was a spy?”

  “I’m sorry about accusing you,” he said. “I’m jumpy about it.”

  “Why would someone be spying on you?”

  Gibb cast a glance over his shoulder as if he suspected someone was watching them right now.

  “Relax,” she said. “For b
etter or worse, it’s only you and me out here.”

  “I’ve been burned by spies twice in two years.”

  “Fisby Corp?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here, hold this.” Sophia handed him her skewered wiener roasted to perfection. She rose up, dusted the sand from her bottom and went to the Igloo chest to retrieve hot dog buns and the squeeze bottle of mustard. “Continue.”

  “Because I invest in innovative products and entrepreneurs that I believe can earn me a high rate of return on my investments, there are a lot of people who want to copy what I’m doing or even steal from me and the people I’ve invested in.”

  “Which is why you wanted me to fly you to Key West instead of summoning your own jet to Libera. Someone could be tracking you.”

  “Exactly.”

  She put mustard on the buns and one by one, took the roasted wieners from him, slid them off the tree branches and nestled them into the hot dog buns. She passed one to Gibb, took one for herself and sat cross-legged back down beside him.

  For a moment, they ate in companionable silence. It was nice; nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and whispering surf. A half-moon lit the sky.

  “These spies are after whatever project you’ve invested in that’s brought you to Bosque de Los Dioses?” she asked.

  “That’s right. Although to be honest, I can’t say there are spies for sure. I’ve just gotten paranoid.”

  “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, fool me a third time and—”

  “You’ve got it.” He nodded. “People start questioning my reputation and business suffers.”

  “But why Bosque de Los Dioses? Why not somewhere else in the world?”

  “Costa Rica is well known for its environmentally conscious philosophy. It was a good fit with my project.”

  “So this is an ecological advancement?”

  “It is. Plus the seclusion of Bosque de Los Dioses makes it a perfect place to build our prototype in as much secrecy as possible.”

  “Except Costa Rica is not known for, shall we say, an aggressive work ethic.”

  “You have hit the nail on the head in regard to the development issues I’ve run into.”

  “This is all very exciting.” She rubbed her palms together. “Innovations and spies, high corporate drama going on in my little corner of the world. Can you talk about it at all?”

  Gibb hesitated.

  “I’m not a spy, I swear.” She raised the palm of one hand, put the other down flat like she was pledging on a bible. Her mother had loved courtroom dramas, too.

  “I won’t get into the details,” he said. “It’s pretty technical anyway, but I can tell you this much, if the invention works the way the inventor believes it will, it has the potential to revolutionize the way people travel.”

  “Without oil or gas I’m assuming since it’s a green technology.”

  “Correct. The prototype power source for the special track system will extend from Bosque de Los Dioses to Monteverde, connecting the resort to the nearest village.”

  “Wait a minute, let me understand this. You’re connecting the mountain retreat that is currently inaccessible except by hiking or bush plane to the nearest village, so that people can go up to Bosque de Los Dioses by another means of transportation.”

  His wide smile brightened his face. “That’s right. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be able to—” He broke off. Eyes widening, he stared at her. “I’ll put you out of business.”

  She put a hand to her throat, swallowed hard. “It sounds like it.”

  Gibb rubbed a palm across his mouth. “Sophia, it never occurred to me that my project would impact your business.”

  “Why would it?” She shrugged, kept her voice even. What was she supposed to do? She specialized in taking tourists around Cordillera of Tilarán. It was her niche market. There were a couple of other bush pilots in the area, but it was not super competitive.

  “It probably won’t put you out of business completely,” he said. “You might suffer a drop in income, but you can make up for it in other ways.”

  “You think so?”

  He looked uneasy. “Sure.”

  “You know nothing about my finances. I have to make a certain amount to afford fuel and insurance and upkeep on the plane. That drop in income that you shrug off like it is inconsequential would be enough to ground me.”

  “There will always be people who want to fly over the mountains,” he said. From the expression on his face, he thought this was a lame assurance, too.

  “People come to Costa Rica for the ecotourism. Why take a gas guzzling old plane when they can hop on Gibb Martin’s spectacular green transportation system.” She hugged herself, leaned in closer to the fire.

  “It might not even work. The project is a big gamble.”

  “If you didn’t believe in it, you wouldn’t have thrown your time and money into it.”

  “This transportation system will transform the way people travel, Sophia. It will benefit millions.”

  “And only a few bush pilots will be out of a job.”

  “It will create more jobs and Costa Rica will be at the forefront of the technology.”

  He was right. She knew it. Slap a “selfish” label on her. She’d found the one thing in the world she loved more than anything else and the man sitting across from her was putting it in jeopardy.

  “I know it’s a shock, but you have years to adjust. The track won’t even be completed for at least two years, possibly much longer since we’re in Costa Rica.”

  “Score one for me,” she said, trying to joke, but it came out sounding sarcastic.

  “I’ll help you get another flying job. Hell, you could work for me,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m sure your current pilot would love having a little bush pilot in the cockpit with him.”

  “You’d need to have more training, of course, but it’s a thought.”

  “I get it. When you run into a problem, you throw money at it and expect it to go away.”

  Gibb stood up and stalked over to her. He grasped her chin and gently but firmly forced her to look at him. “That’s not what this is about.”

  She wrenched away from him. “It sure feels like it. You tell me your project is going to implode my world and, by the way, here’s some money, go get more training and then come work for me?”

  “I’m trying to forge a relationship here, Sophia. Between you and me. I made a mess and I want to clean it up. Earlier today you accused me of caring more about my goals than people. I’m trying to show you that’s not true.”

  “Giving me a job to prove you have fantastic relationship skills doesn’t make you people oriented. With you, making money will always come first.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.”

  She raised both palms, got to her feet. “You’re right, I don’t know you personally, but you’ve been on my radar for two weeks and I have to say, actions do speak louder than words.”

  “Sophia, I regret that I’ve hurt you—”

  “I’m fine. I’m walking away from this discussion. You’re going to do what you’re going to do and it’s up to me to take care of myself. I’ll find an answer on my own. I’m not your problem.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this. There’s a solution.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She strode back to the plane. Rich men. Pfttt.

  She reached El Diablo, rested her head on the wing. She was accusing Gibb of a lot of things, but she had her faults, too. Chief among them, she hated change. Life was easy for her. She was her own boss, set her own hours. She was only twenty-six and owned her own plane. She liked her life and did not want to adjust to a new way of being. In the grand scheme of things, if his project could make life better for many people, she was the one who had to adapt.

  Spoiled. She was spoiled. She was the baby of the family and people had indulged Sophia her entire life.
Something occurred to her then that had never occurred to her before. Maybe her brothers and sisters weren’t as happy as she’d thought about Poppy having given her the plane. Or that she’d been the one he taught to fly. When the others were growing up, he’d been too busy making a living, then too grief stricken once their mother had passed away. Maybe her siblings had kept their opinions to themselves because it was habit, something they just did. Spoil their baby sister.

  It had the ring of truth. While she might be adept at sizing up others, when it came to putting herself under the microscope, she looked the other way.

  Sophia reached out a hand, stroked one of El Diablo’s rivets and murmured, “We could certainly use something revolutionary to travel in now.”

  “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

  She let out a startled, “Eek!” She hadn’t heard Gibb come up behind her. Stealthy billionaire.

  He touched her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I’m sorry for getting upset,” she said. “It was just an unpleasant surprise. Like you said, it will take years to build the prototype. Who knows? Maybe by then I will decide to get married, have a big brood and give up flying.”

  “You’ll never give up flying,” Gibb said staunchly. “You love it too much.”

  “You’re probably right, but the point is, who knows what the future holds? Things can turn on a peso.”

  He nodded. “What did you find out about the plane?”

  “It was something minor, excess water in the fuel tank. Normally when there is water in the fuel it settles to the bottom and is siphoned out, but fighting that strong headwind sloshed the water around and it accumulated in the carburetor, causing the engine to sputter. All I had to do was drain off the water, problem solved.”

  Gibb did a little jig that looked so comical on him that she almost smiled. “Great! So we can take off at dawn?”

  “Um,” Sophia said, hating to break the bad news to him. “Not so fast.”

  He stopped in mid–happy dance. “What?”

  “We hit a palm tree during the emergency landing.”

  “And?”

  “Remember when the plane dropped after we stopped?”

  “Yes.” He sounded wary.

  “A cable on the right rudder broke.”