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  A snort fell from his throat. Yeah, it might be hands off, but that didn’t stop his heart from getting involved. If he didn’t watch it, he might find himself falling for a woman he couldn’t have.

  6

  Viktoria swept the sheer white curtain back from the double-portal windows in the jet’s bedroom and grimaced. They were on the ground, but where the hell were they?

  Beyond the thick Plexiglas, acres and acres of tall, green cornstalks filled the land, starting fifty feet beyond the runway. In the distance, the roofs of a barn and possibly a house peeked above the rolling hill of produce. She hustled to the bathroom and plastered her face against the portal between the shower stall and toilet. On the other side of the plane, the view wasn’t much better. Mowed grass and dirt beneath a line of prop planes…oh, what was the English term...crop dusters? And two structures completed the airport. One had to be a hangar and the other could be the terminal.

  How small was this airport? Were they even at an airport or just a private runway on someone’s farm?

  Pushing away, she spied her pale reflection in the mirror and clasped her still trembling hands together. Even after forty-five minutes of pacing the small bedroom, she couldn’t fully calm down. Her heart continued to pump noisily and the lump of bile still sat at the bottom of her throat.

  She even attempted to talk to her father but hung up when she received his voicemail. This wasn’t something he should hear about in a message. Aleta offered no distraction either. Her assistant didn’t pick up the phone until the jet started to descend, then complained of a mild fever, so Viktoria kept the conversation brief, only letting her know they had switched airports to refuel, then told the woman to go back to bed.

  As hard as she tried, Viktoria couldn’t block out that terrifying moment when the copilot had knocked Jeff out, then clamped onto her arm so hard, she couldn’t break free. Helpless. Never in her life had she ever felt truly powerless. All the defensive training she endured in her high school years had escaped her and she barely got the one punch in. Pathetic. She hadn’t kept up with her skills and it showed. When she got home, she was replacing her exercise routines with martial arts and self-defense.

  Bracing her weight against the sink, she allowed her mind to settle on the one thought she’d been running from since she’d shut the bedroom door: She had needed Lee to rescue her.

  The entire time she’d been struggling against the copilot, she’d kept saying his name over and over in her mind. Maybe she was calling to him, or maybe she knew deep inside he’d make the nightmare end. Either way, she’d needed him and he’d appeared like an avenging warrior to save her. Those last two words rankled. Before today, she had never been a damsel in distress in her life.

  But when it had happened, Lee had been right there just like he promised.

  Her father’s words blasted through her head again, but she pushed them away. As if waiting for the chance, Lee’s voice filled her mind instead, I promise, I’ll keep you safe. Even if it means jeopardizing my life, I won’t let anything happen to you. The intensity rolling off him told her he meant every word.

  Lifting her hand, she still felt him caressing her skin like she was the most precious thing in the world—

  Knock. Knock.

  “Yes?” She cleared her throat and stepped out of the bathroom.

  “It’s Lee,” he rumbled through the wood. “Can I open the door?”

  “Yes,” she said again, snatching her hand away from where it was clutching the base of her throat.

  Lee filled the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on her. No way did he miss the bed perfectly made up, her in the same clothes, and the bath towels untouched. He’d rightly surmise she’d been pacing and that revealed weakness. Showing men weakness gave them something to use against her, something to manipulate her with. Screw that. She already had a plan in place so she’d be better prepared next time, and if Lee thought she’d be some meek mouse after this—

  “We’re going to be grounded here for hours.” He inched deeper into the room.

  The professional tone and lack of challenge in his eyes threw her off-balance. “Where’s here?”

  “Tiny airport near the border of Kansas and Missouri.” Lee smoothed a hand down his shirt and she followed the action, jealous of the cotton hugging that amazing chest. “We pretty much coasted in on fumes and only after we touched down did the pilot learn the airport doesn’t have enough fuel on hand to fill us up. Something about them having a run on crop dusters spraying pesticides and fungicides in the region. It’s going to take time to truck in fuel.”

  “Oh.” Viktoria had been expecting him to gloat and say I told you so. Or insist she admit she was wrong. He had been right. The plane should have been held up in San Diego until the copilot was fully cleared. But…he wasn’t gloating. And by the way he held his body, it didn’t appear he planned to either. Instead, he acted like her insistence on trusting the copilot’s faked background check never happened, and treat her like an equal…

  From the moment he didn’t rise to the bait and snarl back right after the plane lifted off, a fundamental shift had occurred in their dynamic, and his current actions just reinforced—

  At his furrowing brows, she realized she’d been staring silently at him too long. “Right. How’s Jeff?”

  “He’s awake—”

  Relief washed over her. The man had gotten hurt, trying to protect her.

  “—but he needs to be checked out by a doctor before he can return to active duty.” Lee glanced over his shoulder into the fuselage, and she spied Mike helping Jeff to stand. “He’s heading into town now and his replacement is on the way. That’s another reason why we’re staying grounded for a while.”

  “What about a copilot?”

  An easy grin stretched over Lee’s face, stealing her breath. “I love a smart woman.”

  A shiver rippled over her skin at the compliment.

  “That’s reason number three.” He held up three fingers. “Boom—er, my boss—has someone who’s been completely vetted and trustworthy already on the road. We’ll have to wait for him to arrive too.”

  “I see.” She cocked her head. “So…are you about to tell me I’m going to be locked inside this jet for the next however many hours while all this happens?”

  Lee sighed and scratched the back of his head. “How successful would I be if I did say that?”

  “What do you think?”

  He snorted.

  In all fairness, she shouldn’t argue with Lee after what happened, but the thought of remaining on the plane for hours tightened her gut. She needed to move. To walk. To do something active to help escape her thoughts. “No one should know we’re here, right?”

  His frown deepened. “The pilot filed the flight plan in the air, and this isn’t on your father’s schedule.”

  “That means we should be safe.”

  “We should’ve been safe at the other airport,” Lee retorted. “And our hiding spot could be discovered at any time.”

  “Lee,” Viktoria drew out, smirking at his expression hardening. “I need to walk around. Get away from this plane for a bit so I can fully put the kidnapping attempt behind me.” She didn’t want to think too much about how all her trembling and fear had disappeared two seconds into the conversation with Lee.

  Scrubbing his masculine hands over his face, he sighed long and loud. “Fine. A mechanic said there’s a diner a couple miles away that’s the highlight of the town. I’ll take you there, but you can’t go dressed like that.” He motioned toward her body.

  “I beg your pardon.” Viktoria’s spine snapped straight. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I’m dressed.”

  Lee marched to the tiny closet and whipped the door opened. Swish. Swish. Swish. The hangers scraped over the metal bar as he rejected all her suits and dresses.

  “Don’t you have anything that doesn’t scream expensive?”

  “Absolutely not.” She crossed her arms
. “I’m not on vacation. This business trip is to solidify the new direction my company’s investing. Everything I’ve packed is for meetings, parties, and public engagements—”

  “In a town like this, you’re going to stand out like a dog in a room full of cats.”

  “Did you just call me a dog?”

  His amber irises flashed devilishly. “Well, you can’t be a cat. There’s only one Puma allowed in this territory, and I’m it.”

  The man was positively lethal. Underneath the gruffness he had a quick, cheeky sense of humor and that wicked gleam and crooked smile did sinful things to her…

  Viktoria dropped her arms, but he left the room. What—

  He strode back in with a duffel bag. Dropping it on the end of the bed, he unzipped the top and rummaged inside. “Aha!” A light blue button-down shirt emerged, clutched in his hand. “Put this on.” He shoved it toward her. “It’s the only one I brought, so try not to stain it.”

  “You have got to be joking.” She curled her lip, not moving to take it.

  The crease between his eyes deepened and he straightened. “Once we’re in town, we can find you something more suitable.” He thrust the shirt at her again. “Wear it with your least noticeable pants.”

  She took it from him and spread it wide, holding it up. “It’s all wrinkled. Haven’t you heard of an iron? Or better yet, don’t you know not to fold it up like a T-shirt?” A new thought hit her like a hammer. “Someone could recognize me and take a photograph of me walking with you, clearly wearing a man’s shirt. Your shirt. It could be sold to a gossip rag or news station and who knows what conclusions they’ll draw.”

  “Like you flaunting a walk of shame?” Lee stepped closer. “That can be arranged.”

  “First off.” Viktoria’s chin shot up. “I don’t do ‘walks of shame.’ When I have sex, I own it.”

  “Jesus, that’s hot.” Almost all the yellow in his eyes disappeared, turning them a dark amber as they tracked down her body, then up. Muscles rippled beneath his clothes as he shifted and the air around him crackled, luring her to close the distance—

  “Furthermore,” Viktoria stressed to hide her breasts aching for his touch and the small tingles racing through her lower belly. “I don’t kiss and tell. Meaning, I keep my sex life private and out of the news.”

  He shifted his gaze to the cabin beyond the bedroom and relaxed his body, disbursing the tension pulsing between them.

  She inhaled and got a nose full of the soap-bar fragrance mixed with a scent she’d attributed to just Lee, unnerving her at how much she drew comfort from it.

  “No one’s going to recognize you,” he stated, getting them back on track. “That’s the whole point of you dressing differently by wearing my shirt. But if the prospect is that horrible, we’ll stay on the plane and have Mike pick up a pizza.” He zipped the duffel bag closed. “Your safety always comes first.”

  With that, he strolled out of the room and shut the door behind him.

  Damn the man! How dare he use logic once again to steal her argument? Why couldn’t he be like the other Neanderthals who beat their chests and implied things like because I’m the man and I said so? She had him pegged as The Heathen and he should live up (down?) to that!

  And why couldn’t he be wrong? She lifted the shirt again. With rows of cornfields beyond the plane and the diner being the town hotspot, she would stand out in Chanel and Gucci.

  So are you staying on the jet? Just the question made her skin itch.

  “Fine, Lee McCallister,” she muttered toward the closed door. “You win this round, but don’t get used to it.”

  7

  Lee closed the text message from Mike saying he’d gotten Jeff to the hospital and was heading back—now just two minutes out from the airport. Before he could leave with Viktoria, Lee had to make sure Mike was back in place to watch over the plane and greet the new copilot and security team member if they arrived before he got back.

  Peering at the closed bedroom door, he stopped his teeth from grinding. Why the hell did he allow her to talk him into the field trip?

  Because you’re a sap. You saw the battle raging in her eyes to reclaim her sense of power over the fear and wanted to help restore that inner fire and spirit. He missed locking horns with her and having to use all his wits to win an argument. Using logic over strength had never been so goddamn sexy…and if his mind didn’t stop replaying her haughty, When I have sex, I own it, he was going to bash his head against the wall. Son of a bitch, he wanted her to own him.

  No, he couldn’t treat her like a one-night stand. If someone asked him about his idea of a perfect woman to share a lifetime with, Viktoria would be it.

  Glaring at the door, he adjusted the semi crowding his zipper. When she walked out of that bedroom, she’d better have his shirt on. And not for a caveman reason, though, he’d admit he liked the idea of his shirt branding her as his.

  You’re going to be shouting Timber soon, dumbass.

  He stuffed the asinine notion of falling for Viktoria down deep and focused on his original rant. He didn’t care how loud she got or what argument she threw at him, he would not let her off the plane if she didn’t blend in—

  The door opened and he almost dropped his phone. Holy fuck. His shirt should have dwarfed her but she had tied the ends of his button-up at her waist and left the rest open to show-off a white silk and lace camisole beneath. The simple black pants and low-heel sandals with buckles kept the look feminine without going overboard.

  He swallowed as she approached. The ponytail swinging behind her gave her a youthful twist, and all he wanted to do was grab onto the length and tilt her head back. Wildflowers invaded his nose, and he yearned to kiss those plump, red lips.

  She finished rolling up the second sleeve to stop mid-forearm. “Don’t get too excited.”

  Too late.

  “I’m only wearing this until we find something more suitable.”

  Dial it back. He had to treat this attraction like one of their battle of wills. For the sake of his heart and his job, he had to keep it professional. Straightening, he did his best to act as unaffected as possible.

  “It’s not surprising with how you folded the shirt,” she continued as she passed him, then peered over her shoulder, “but haven’t you heard of dry cleaning?” She pinched a piece of the material. “This should be soft, not scratchy.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say?” He fell in step behind her. “My time in the Rangers didn’t involve dry cleaning or fabric softener.” More like camouflage paint and bug spray.

  Meeting Mike on the tarmac, he took the keys to the nondescript sedan they were renting from one of the airport mechanics with cash in order to remain off the grid. It tweaked Lee’s conscience to go against Boom’s protocols and leave Mike behind, but it couldn’t be helped. They were down a man and someone had to stay with the plane and the pilot to greet the newcomers. Scratching the scruff on his chin, he hoped he and Viktoria would blend in posing as a couple…though her exquisite beauty would have everyone noticing her right away.

  It didn’t take long to reach the shops downtown. Sheesh. He’d thought his hometown of Springwell, Georgia, was small. This town made that one look like a metropolis. Parallel parking in front of a secondhand store, he exhaled when he didn’t spy a single parking meter. He hadn’t been able to scrounge many quarters and had worried their trip might have been forced to be super short. Looked like he didn’t have that excuse to fall back on if he needed it.

  A second door thunking shut made him shake his head. Of course she wouldn’t let him come around and open her door. Strolling toward the secondhand store, he stopped at the warm hand grasping his bicep. Electricity raced over his skin and he shivered. With the lower heels, she didn’t quite match his height, but he loved looking her in the eyes without cricking his neck.

  “Where are you going?” she hissed, her eyes darting to the store, then both directions of the sidewalk. Pedestrians strolled happily
along, talking loudly to each other or on the phone.

  Leaning into her space just because he wanted to, he whispered, “There’s no Saks or Barneys or whatever here. I doubt there’s even a dedicated women’s store.” He thumbed behind him. “You’ll have to make the best of it.”

  Her gaze flew to the window of the shop again and after a moment, she nodded.

  A brass bell ding-a-linged and the young store clerk looked up from the magazine she had open on the glass display counter and beamed. “Welcome.”

  Lee smiled and offered a wave, then pushed Viktoria forward. Scanning the entire shop, he found one customer in the kitchen section, peering intently at mismatched glasses, and two exits—the main entrance they’d just used, and the back door that also received the donations.

  Leading Viktoria to the women’s clothing stuffed on round and straight racks, he had to stop his eyes from rolling. She blinked repeatedly at the selection. Was she that much of a snob that she couldn’t touch a hanger?

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, leaning against a column beside a rounder.

  “What?” She blinked again, then met his eyes. “Uh, no. It’s just that…” Her cheeks turned pink and he could only stare in fascination at this strong woman blushing. “My assistant usually works with a personal shopper using my measurements and they bring final selections to me.”

  Wow. He did not see that coming.

  “I’m, uh…” Her beautiful blues flicked to him then to a rack. “I don’t know where to start.”

  The confused, embarrassed expression hit him in the gut and he wanted to make her smile. “I thought all women were born with the shopping gene.”

  She glared at him.