Her head was pounding, and she was sure that she was going to die of thirst, but the very idea of getting up and crossing the terminal again made her feel queasy. She never should have drunk so much the night before, and she was paying the price this morning. But she knew that a little sleep and some more time would cure her; she just wished she wasn’t trying to recover on a plane.
As soon as she got to her seat, she bucked her safety belt, put her ear buds in, and pulled her hood over her head. Glad that she’d managed to get a window seat, she pulled down the shade, turned toward the window, and promptly fell asleep. When she woke several hours later and pushed up the window shade, the plane was cruising through the clouds.
Looking at her watch, she saw that there was only an hour left of the flight and knew that soon she’d be able to see the mountains on the horizon. Stretching carefully in the small space, she worked out the kinks in her neck and shoulders from sleeping hunched up, then rummaged around in her bag for a bottle of water.
She drained the entire thing, put it back in her bag, and looked around the cabin. The flight was full, every seat taken by people engaged in all kinds of activities to pass the time. Her hangover finally abating, she began to get excited about being home and the new truck she’d bought: her first splurge since she’d graduated from college.
Wondering just how bad she looked, she pulled out her compact, opened it, then looked around and pulled off her sunglasses. After a quick glance in the mirror, she knew that there were dark circles under her eyes and that she was in deep need of a shower if she ever hoped to make her hair look presentable.
She was just about to put her sunglasses back on when a sound from the aisle caught her attention, and she looked up. Her eyes met those of the man from the terminal, and almost instantly her head began to buzz, and little shocks of electricity pulsed through her.
Before she could get her sunglasses back on, the feeling turned to desire, making her suck in a deep breath and look down. She shoved the sunglasses on her face and looked down in her lap, afraid to meet the man’s eyes again, unsure what to make of her feelings.
The man opened his mouth to speak, but a passenger behind him nudged him forward, and he passed on without a word, leaving her shocked, gripping the seat with both hands and taking deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” the woman sitting next to her asked.
“I’m fine, just a little… ummm, hungover,” she answered quickly, giving the woman a shaky smile.
The woman nodded her head and patted Melody’s arm. “I was young once too,” she said, then handed her another bottle of water.
By the time the plane landed in Denver, Melody was feeling more like her old self; she was still rattled by her encounter with the stranger but thinking more rationally. She took her time, getting her things together after the plane landed, hoping to avoid running into the man again, sure she couldn’t handle another encounter.
But the woman wouldn’t leave without her, so she found herself following her down the terminal to baggage claim and being guided right into the middle of the crowd of passengers waiting for their luggage.
“You just tell me when you see your bag, and I’ll grab it for you,” the woman said, patting Melody on the back.
“I really am fine,” Melody protested. “That last bottle of water you gave me did the trick. I’m sure you have someone meeting you.”
“Well, if you’re okay,” the woman said, clearly relieved.
“I’ll be fine,” Melody assured her, hoping she’d leave so she could hide until her bag came off the plane. “Thank you for all your help.”
As soon as the woman walked away, she headed for the farthest corner of baggage claim and watched from the shadows until she saw her bag. Then she made a mad dash through what was left of the crowd and grabbed the bag, but just as her hand closed around the handle, so did another hand.
It was clearly a man’s hand, and her heart began to beat faster in her chest. She knew before she even looked up that it was the stranger’s hand and for a second she thought about just letting go and running. But instead, she stood up and let go of the suitcase, never looking up.
“I’m sorry, I thought that was mine,” she mumbled, then sighed with relief when she saw her bag slide down the chute. “But there it is.”
The second the bag got to her, she grabbed it and walked away as fast as she could without attracting attention, feeling the eyes of the stranger on her back the entire time. She burst through the doors and outside, then ducked into a little alcove to catch her breath.
Realizing how ridiculous she must look, she stepped back out onto the main sidewalk and looked around. To her relief, she saw a man holding a sign with her name on it and headed over to him.
“I’m Melody Chambers,” she said, looking over her shoulder sure that she felt eyes on her.
“Welcome home Ms. Chambers, I’m Hank from the dealership; they sent me to come get you,” the man said, holding out his hand.
She shook his hand, finally looking at him, and realized that he was just a kid, probably several years younger than her. “Thank you for the ride; the airport can be a real pain,” she said, smiling at him.
“It’s no problem; it’s my job,” Hank said, a blush rising on his cheeks. “I’ve got the car right over here.”
Melody followed him to the car, the feeling of eyes on her never leaving, and helped Hank put her luggage in the trunk. As she walked back around the side of the car to the passenger side, she couldn’t help but look back toward the terminal, not at all surprised to find the stranger standing just outside the door watching her.
She paused before she got in the car and stared back at him, a tingle deep in the pit of her stomach expanding to full-blown butterflies before she quickly got in the car and slammed the door.
“I think we need to stop for lunch before we go pick up my truck,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “Is that in your job description, Hank?”
“You bet, Ms. Chambers; that’s why I love my job. Where to?”
“I’m thinking a nice juicy steak is just what I need,” she said, realizing then that she was hungry.
“I know just the place,” Hank said, put the car in gear, and sped away from the airport.
Chapter 3
***Dalton***
Dalton watched the car drive away, feeling like not only the biggest idiot in the world but a flare of jealousy toward the man who’d spirited his mystery woman away. But as the car disappeared, the feeling began to pass, and he shook it off, wondering what had happened to him.
He’d never had that kind of a reaction to a woman before, had never felt that rush of desire looking into her eyes had unleashed inside him. When their hands touched in baggage claim, it had rushed over him again, swamping him with feelings he’d been unprepared for.
Then she’d murmured her apologies, grabbed a bag that looked exactly like his and disappeared into the crowd before he could say a word. Unable to help himself, he’d followed her out of the airport as if she’d put him under a spell and watched her from a distance, remembering what he’d felt those few brief moments she’d been in his arms.
Feeling like he’d been bewitched, his head still a little fuzzy, he stood there for a few minutes recovering from whatever had just happened to him. Then he turned and headed for the shuttle bus, reminding himself why he was here and blocking the temptress from his mind.
After an exhausting two hours trying to get a decent car, he finally pulled out onto the highway and headed for Fairplay. As he drove, he decided that it had been worth the wait for the little convertible and began to look forward to his drive up into the mountains.
As soon as he was out of the city, he found a little diner and stopped for lunch, which turned out to be one of the best hamburgers he’d ever had. He took his time, feeling no need to hurry; his reservation at the hotel in Fairplay was already paid for, his room his no matter what time he arrived.
When he got back on the
road several hours later, he noticed some dark clouds hovering above the distant mountains, but they were far away and no threat. The drive up into the mountains took his mind off all his troubles, the winding road enough of a challenge to keep him constantly on his guard as the little car sped around the curves.
He was so caught up in the road that he didn’t notice that the clouds that had seemed so distant were suddenly upon him. His first clue the huge gust of wind that pushed the little car sideways and slightly out of control. Looking up from the road, he saw that the storm was only minutes away, the lightening flashing brightly against the black swirling clouds.
Before he could find a place to pull over, the rain began to splatter against his windshield. It was just a few drops at first, but to his horror those drops soon turned into a driving rain, pushed at times by huge gusts of wind; it came at him, blinding him. When he finally saw a place to pull over, he came screeching to a halt in the mud and jumped out of the car, frantically trying to remember how to close the convertible top.
By the time he realized the button was inside the car, the entire interior of the car was soaking wet, the leather seats ruined. Cursing his stupidity, he climbed back into the soggy car and started it and sat there shivering as the rain fell. When the rain finally began to slow, he put the car in gear and gave it some gas, but the car didn’t move.
He gave it more gas, then heard the sickening sound of his tires spinning in the mud. When he opened the door and stepped out, his foot sank into a muddy puddle up to his ankles, and before he could react, cold mud seeped into his shoe. Looking down at his foot, he shrugged his shoulders and put the other foot into the puddle, then walked around to the back of the car.
His heart sank when he saw that the car was sitting in a huge muddy puddle, the water at least three inches up on the tires which looked like they’d sunk into the mud. Cursing his luck, he walked back around the car, opened the door and grabbed his cell phone, only to discover that he had no service.
Sitting down heavily in the driver’s seat, he took a few minutes to calm himself, the urge to do something magical hard to resist. But he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself, so he’d just have to wait for help to come along like any normal mortal. It seemed like a stupid rule to him, but Annabelle had made him promise not to use his magic unless he was alone, and he’d agreed.
Now he was going to pay for that promise with his time, since clearly no one was willing to stop, he realized as one car after another roared by him. It was nearly a half an hour later when a big red truck with temporary plates finally pulled off the road.
***Melody***
When Melody saw the little red sports car and the man standing next to it up ahead, she knew that she should stop but all she wanted to do was get home to the ranch, so she pretended it wasn’t there. But the closer she got, the guiltier she felt, especially since there was another round of storms sliding down from the high mountain peaks.
Knowing that she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t do the right thing, she swung the wheel at the last second and careened onto the side of the road and came to a halt next to the little red car. She was pleased with her parking job until she looked at the man and saw that he was covered in mud, wiping it from his eyes and mouth and staring at her with a look that could kill.
Jumping out of the truck, she opened the back door and rifled through the shopping bags until she came up with a towel. She ran over to the man and handed it to him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you until the last second,” she lied, holding out the towel.
The man stared at her for several uncomfortable seconds, then looked down at the towel in her hand. She was beginning to get nervous, wondering why he wasn’t speaking when his eyes met hers, and she suddenly felt like she knew him.
“You want me to use that?” he asked, looking from her to the towel.
“Why not? It’s only mud,” Melody said, handing him the new white towel she’d just bought.
He shrugged his shoulders and began wiping the grime off his face, turning the towel into a muddy mess and revealing a face she’d never forget. She gasped and said, “It’s you. You were at the airport and on the plane.”
“Yes, that was me. You fell into my lap and flung my book across the terminal,” he said, looking for a clean spot on the towel and wiping down his arms.
“You tripped me,” Melody countered, her heart pounding in her chest.
The man stared at her for a few seconds, then held out his hand. “I’m Dalton, and I could use a little bit of help.”
Charlie looked at his hand, wondering if she dared touch him, remembering the shock of electricity the last time and what had followed. Finally, she reached out and shook his hand, “Melody,” was all she managed to croak as her throat went dry.
Dalton smiled at her, nearly stealing her breath and said, “I seem to have gotten myself stuck.”
She had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. “How did you end up here?” she asked, gesturing to the huge puddle his car was parked in.
Then forcing her legs to move, she walked around the car, taking steadying breaths until she could face him again. He still looked like something out of one of her dreams; over six feet tall, he had beautiful brown eyes framed by long lashes, and dark curly hair that reached just to his collar. From their brief encounter at the airport, she knew that he was all muscle: hard tight muscle, that would ripple under her touch.
Blushing at the detour her thoughts had taken, she waited for his answer, sensing his embarrassment and not caring. The man had been driving her crazy since she tripped over him at the airport; all these strange feelings were confusing her and making her wish she’d never come home. Feeling anger building, she was starting to think about just getting in her truck and driving away.
But then he grinned sheepishly and said, “I might not have been paying attention to the storm, and I had the top down. I stopped here because it was the first place I saw and then this happened.”
When he gestured to the car, which looked ridiculous sitting in the muddy puddle, she couldn’t help but laugh, her anger draining away. She looked up at the stormy clouds headed their way and said, “Whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it quickly.”
***Dalton***
Dalton looked at his little rental car buried in the mud, then at Melody, “I thought about calling a tow truck, but I don’t have cell service,” he said.
“Yeah, this is a dead spot; there won’t be any service until the top of the pass,” she said, walking around the car again. “I could try to pull you out.”
Dalton couldn’t make his brain function since his body was in total control, every nerve hyper-aware of the woman standing only a few feet from him, a wave of desire rushing through him. But then a huge raindrop hit him in the forehead, and the feeling passed, and his brain began to function again.
“Umm, I don’t know, it’s a rental,” he said, images of the little car torn in half flashing through his mind.
“I’ve done this plenty of times,” Melody said, then added, “I have a new tow rope in the back of my truck.”
Dalton was tempted to let her try, she looked so excited by the prospect, but then he realized that the entire interior of the car was soaked from the rain.
“I’m not sure I want to drive it; it got pretty wet inside there,” he said, then figured out the solution. “If you give me a ride to town, I can call a tow truck and send them back for the car.”
Melody looked at him as if the thought had never occurred to her. She looked over at her truck and then back at him. “You want me to give you a ride to Fairplay? In my truck?” she asked, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of traffic on the highway right next to them.
“It would save you the trouble of pulling me out,” he said, then when she didn’t look convinced, he added, “I’m not a serial killer or anything, I promise.”
“Okay, I guess that would be a good idea since ther
e’s another storm on the way,” she said and sighed as if she’d just been asked to do something distasteful. “But just remember that I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”
Chapter 4
***Melody***
Melody swung up into the driver’s seat and waited for Dalton to get in, a procedure made all that harder thanks to the towels she’d spread across the seat. Grimacing when a huge mud smear appeared across another one of her pretty white towels, she tried to gather her thoughts.
It was only about thirty miles to Fairplay; a quick trip over the pass and then a short drive across the valley and she’d be free, she told herself as she started the truck. But her body was so tense, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to drive, especially when she got a big whiff of Dalton’s cologne and a rush of desire threatened to leave her breathless.
“How far is it to Fairplay?” he asked, bring her back down to reality.
“About thirty miles, we have to go over the pass and then across the valley a little way,” she said, putting the truck into gear and pulling onto the highway.
Unable to think of anything to say, they rode in silence, the electricity between them filling the cab of the truck. Melody couldn’t believe the day she’d had; first she’d had the worst hangover of her life, humiliated herself in front of a terminal full of people, and now this man who drove her crazy kept showing up.
If she’d known for certain that what she was feeling was real, she might have explored it, might have been tempted to do something she hadn’t done in years and give in to her attraction to him. But he’d seen her eyes, not once but twice and now; she’d never know for certain if it was her he was attracted to or if it was her eyes, as had been the case so many times in her life.
She just wasn’t ready to take that chance, wasn’t willing to go through the heartache when the spell or whatever it was wore off and he discovered that she wasn’t quite as attractive as he’d thought she was. It had taken her a while to figure out how her eyes affected men, affected her, and what she’d decided was that the best way to avoid heartache was to avoid romance.
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