The Flyboy's Temptation

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, but J.T. had managed to navigate every obstacle with a grace that was almost superhuman.

  They didn’t make many men like J.T. and his band of brothers anymore.

  And the way that man could make her shudder and moan with a touch... Ugh. How was she ever going to forget that heat?

  No man would ever measure up to J. T. Carmichael in the sex department. The man had been...extremely talented.

  She should’ve given J.T. her address. But then he would’ve shown up and where would that have taken them?

  Her heart rate leaped at the idea of seeing J.T. at her door.

  Wishful imaginings were harmful in the long run, she chastised herself when she lingered a little too long on that fantasy.

  Nothing had changed. They were still incompatible in the big scheme of things and that wasn’t likely to change. She wasn’t about to embark on an ill-fated relationship that was doomed from the start.

  She’d have to be a complete idiot to do that.

  Hope was alive thanks to J.T.—she couldn’t forget that part.

  Had she hurt him by walking away? Hope liked to think that she hadn’t crushed him, but in her heart, she knew she’d caused terrible pain.

  How did she know that? Because she’d felt it, too.

  Each step away from the hotel had been agony. Climbing into the cab as if nothing had happened was like swallowing razors.

  And each night since, she’d been tormented by dreams that’d left her aching and reaching for someone who wasn’t there.

  Her bed had never been so lonely until now. There was definitely a J.T.-sized deficit in her life right now and she alternated between being irritated at her weepiness and intensely depressed over how weepy she was.

  Tomorrow she had a meeting with Deirdre to discuss the details as she knew them—edited, of course—about the South American incident. It was a formality, but a necessary one to satisfy the authorities and clear Tessara of any responsibility.

  The report was also necessary for the insurance company to release funds for the damages done to the lab and any payout to the families that might be required.

  It was all very tidy.

  That should’ve appealed to her.

  The fact that there were very few loose ends to tie up should’ve made her sigh with relief, but instead she was troubled by how neat it was.

  Shouldn’t there be more paperwork? More questions?

  Just like when Tanya was killed.

  Business as usual. Life goes on.

  But Tanya had been more than her supervisor; she’d been her friend.

  “There’s a rumor out there that there’s more to life than science,” Tanya had teased over Chinese food in the break room late one night. “I’m thinking of signing up for one of those online dating sites and testing out that theory.”

  “You could end up with a serial killer.”

  “That fear is so 1990s. Everyone knows that the professional sect doesn’t have time to socialize in the traditional ways, so places like eSoulmate.com fill the gap. I like that it separates people into two categories, those most likely to be looking for a fun, but ultimately short-lived relationship and those who are marriage material.”

  “Oh?” Hope raised an eyebrow as she slurped down her chow mein. “So what exactly are you looking for? A hot sweaty time or matrimony?”

  “Well, to run the risk of sounding like a pathetic sap, I’d love to find someone who I can get hot and sweaty with and still end up with a ring on my finger. Maybe a hot physicist or something.”

  “Are physicists hot?” Hope asked dubiously. “Have you seen the physicists walking the halls at Tessara? Definitely not hot.”

  “True. But I find intelligence very sexy. However, I also find burly men in kilts sexy. Do you think I can find those attributes in one man?”

  Hope laughed. “Good luck. Can you imagine Wesley in a kilt?”

  “Wesley Gibson? God, no. Nobody wants to see that.”

  “There’s your answer. I think you have to take one over the other.”

  “In that case, I’ll take a torrid affair with a hot, intellectually inferior guy and then when I’m finished with him—or rather my vagina screams for mercy—I’ll start looking around for the guy who will father my children and fantasize about the man who used to bend me in a pretzel.”

  At that Hope broke into peals of laughter and nearly choked on a soggy noodle.

  “Good luck,” she managed, and they both dissolved into giggles like teenagers.

  Hope broke out of her reverie and realized her water was cold.

  “I miss you, Tanya,” she murmured as she climbed from the tub and released the plug to drain it. “I hope heaven is overrun with sexy, smart guys with great burly thighs just for you, my friend.”

  Hope wiped at the sudden tears and tucked her robe around her.

  She’d never admit it out loud, but she missed J.T. more than she should.

  J.T. had been her smart, sexy—no, incredibly sexy—adventure and she hadn’t been ready to give him up.

  Sighing heavily, she climbed into bed and tried to find sleep.

  J.T. had planted questions in her head—questions without easy answers.

  Was there a mole embedded within Tessara? And if so, did that mean she was still in danger?

  More than ever she wished J.T. were beside her.

  But that wasn’t logical.

  Nothing about their relationship had been logical.

  Maybe that’d been the best part.

  23

  HOPE STEPPED OFF onto the level-four lab and was surprised to find Deirdre flipping through her notes. It was hard not to react by ripping them out of Deirdre’s bony fingers, but somehow she managed a false smile.

  “Good morning,” she said, wondering why Deirdre would be using her notebook for light reading. Deirdre had access to her finalized findings, which were submitted each week, but her scribblings were her own. “Anything I can help you find?”

  Snapping the notebook closed, she gestured, saying, “Follow me, Dr. Larsen,” and walked at a brisk clip from the lab into the offices.

  Tanya’s office, still closed since her death, made Hope swallow the immediate lump that bobbed in her throat. She knew Deirdre was interviewing Tanya’s replacement, but for Hope no one would measure up to her friend.

  Deirdre didn’t seem affected in the least by Hope’s grief and wasn’t sympathetic, either.

  In fact, they’d been business as usual the day after Tanya had died.

  Going straight to the point, Deirdre said, “Tell me about the project you and Dr. Fields were working on when she died.”

  Hope paused, arranging her answer in her head. “We were working on the C1H4 protocol, but we were unable to crack the gene sequencing.”

  “None of the samples were viable?” Deirdre asked, even though Hope knew her notes supported that assumption.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “So why the trip to the South American lab?”

  “Dr. Fields wanted me to acquire the Ebola sample so we could cross-reference our findings against the parent virus.”

  “And a courier service couldn’t have accomplished this?”

  “She didn’t trust the courier. Plus, to be honest, I’d admitted that I’d never been to South America and it was on my bucket list. She said if I could combine business and pleasure, I could pick up the sample for her.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Interesting? How so? Was this outside of company policy?”

  Instead of answering, Deirdre asked another question. “Your expense request is quite large. Care to explain?”

  “Unbeknownst to me, someone had been following me. Perhaps the
same people who broke into the South American lab. They shot at the plane I was on and it crash-landed in Mexico. I managed to get to the South American lab only because of Mr. Carmichael’s help. Is there a problem with the expense request?”

  Deirdre waved away the question. “That’s not the problem. Just trying to solve a small mystery. It seems odd to me that someone was chasing after you. Why? The attack on the Brazilian lab was due to gang violence. What possible cause would someone have to shoot down your plane? Pardon my rudeness, but I didn’t realize you and Tanya were working on anything of importance.”

  This was it. Deirdre had realized that she and Tanya had doctored the books. The plan had been to contain the samples at the South American lab, but to list the samples as nonviable, and thus what would be destroyed was simply biological waste.

  But if Deirdre knew that Tanya and Hope were lying, which side was Deirdre on?

  She heard J.T.’s voice in her head, warning about the possible mole in Tessara, and she held back the urge to tell Deirdre the plain truth.

  “I have no idea, but it was very frightening,” Hope said, holding Deirdre’s gaze without flinching. She was a terrible poker player, but she knew it was important to convince Deirdre that she was telling the truth.

  “Yes, I can only imagine. You must’ve been relieved to take a commercial flight home.”

  “Very much so. I’ve had my fill of charter planes.”

  “As would I.” Deirdre grabbed a piece of paper and signed off on the expense request, then slid it over to Hope. “Your expenses have been approved.”

  Hope smiled and rose. “Thank you.” Assuming Deirdre was finished, she turned to leave, but Deirdre’s voice at her back stopped her dead.

  “Do you know of Anso DeLeon?”

  Hope swallowed and turned, affecting an expression of vague recollection. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”

  “Mr. DeLeon is a patron of the sciences. A philanthropist who has donated millions to Tessara for research projects. It’s thanks to his generous contribution that your lab project was funded at all.”

  “Oh? What a nice man.” She nearly choked on the words. “Forgive me—why do you ask?”

  Deirdre steepled her fingers. “He was killed three days ago. Home invasion in his South American home. Isn’t that a strange coincidence, that he was killed during the same time frame as your visit to Brazil?”

  “Very.”

  “Hmm...the world has lost a great man.”

  Hardly. The world was a better place with him gone. “Sounds like it.” Sweat began to gather at Hope’s temple. “Was there anything else you needed?”

  “No, I think you’ve answered my questions sufficiently.”

  Hope forced a smile. “Great. I’ll head back to the lab.”

  “Yes, I would like you to continue the work on C1H4. Your notes seem promising.”

  “Of course,” Hope answered, wondering how long she could sabotage her own work before Deirdre caught on. J.T. was right—maybe she ought to start shopping her résumé after all.

  Hope hustled down the hall, her brain whirring faster than a centrifuge. Everything about that meeting had set her hair on end. Was Deirdre corrupt? Was Tessara as bad as J.T. thought it was? Good people worked for Tessara; she knew that because Tanya had been one of the best.

  She slipped into the restroom, needing a minute to calm her beating heart. The walls were closing in. Tessara didn’t feel safe any longer. More than anything, she wished J.T. were around to protect her. Under most circumstances she was very “I am woman, hear me roar”, but her South American experience had taught her the value of a big, strong man with a bigger gun having her back.

  The fact that Deirdre even brought up DeLeon’s name made her break out into a cold sweat. Was Deirdre in DeLeon’s pocket? She would’ve had access to Tanya and Hope’s research.

  A sick, queasy feeling sat lodged in her gut, twisting the bagel she’d eaten for breakfast.

  As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she realized she felt more trapped now than when she’d been hurtling to the ground in a rapidly descending plane.

  What was she going to do?

  She didn’t know who to trust or where to turn.

  To quote Tanya...she was in quite a pickle.

  * * *

  J.T. RECEIVED TESSARA’S check in the mail and immediately handed it over to Teagan, but he felt no sense of satisfaction at seeing all those zeros.

  “Nice to be in the black again,” Teagan said. When he saw J.T.’s expression hadn’t changed, he added, “It’s been a week since we got back and you’ve had her address. Why haven’t you gone to see her?”

  “What’s the point? I’m not that guy who chases after women who’ve given him the brush-off. There are plenty of fish in the sea—isn’t that how the saying goes?”

  “Yeah, well, this one was different.”

  He scowled. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because it’s been a week and you’re getting worse each day. Yesterday you just about bit my head off when I asked you if there was any more beer in the fridge.”

  It was true. He’d been thinking about Hope, and the fact that he was still thinking about her when he should’ve moved on was putting him in a foul mood.

  The worst.

  “Just go talk to her. Maybe things look different now.”

  “Why would they look different? She doesn’t want to be with me. She was pretty plain about her meaning. She’s a brainiac, and I’m just a pilot.”

  “An ex-fighter pilot in the Air Force, Special Forces—don’t forget that part,” Teagan replied, clearly amused at how bristly J.T. was being. “Is this what love looks like? If so, I think I’ll pass.”

  “I’m not in love,” J.T. shot back, but just the thought of Hope made his heart ache. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “Yeah, it’s called Cupiditis.”

  He skewered Teagan with a dark look when Teagan laughed at his own joke.

  “Okay, all kidding aside, your pride is keeping you from going to her, not some belief that she doesn’t want you. You want her to come to you—that way you’re the one in control because that’s the way you operate.”

  “That’s utter bullshit.”

  “Oh, c’mon, you know I’m right. What would happen if she showed up right now? Would you tell her to hit the bricks or would you pull her into the bedroom and make things awkward for the rest of us?”

  He had to grin. Their hotel sex had been pretty vigorous and the walls had been thin. J.T. didn’t need to insult Teagan by lying; they both knew the score. “She doesn’t want me,” he said mulishly. “That’s her loss.”

  “I’m no expert on love, but I saw the way she looked at you. What if she pushed you away to protect herself? Maybe she’s just as gun-shy about love as you are.”

  J.T. opened his mouth to shoot his brother down, but there was something that rang true. What if that were the case and they were both doing the same thing?

  “Just go see her. Figure things out. Stop being afraid and see where it takes you.”

  “What if takes me straight to the bottom? I really don’t feel like being kicked to the curb twice.”

  “I’m not going to lie—it could happen, but what if it doesn’t? What if she’s happy to see you? Wouldn’t that be worth the risk?”

  He considered the possibility and the fact that his heart tripled in beat at the idea told him what he needed to know.

  “Am I being a giant pussy?”

  “The fact that you have to ask means you already know the answer.”

  “Asshole. You could’ve lied.”

  Teagan laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Stop your bellyaching and go get your woman.”

&n
bsp; His woman.

  He liked the sound of that.

  Hopefully, Hope did, too.

  Otherwise, his heart was about to take another beating of epic proportion.

  24

  MAYBE SHE WAS paranoid, but every shadow seemed menacing and every sound was like a harbinger of potential danger. Had Tanya been aware that her days were numbered or had she gone about her day, popping into Subway for a sandwich, only to die moments later with a turkey on sourdough in her hand?

  Hope felt as if the Grim Reaper were counting out the sands in her hourglass, which was ridiculous because she didn’t believe in stuff like that, but her brain was playing tricks on her.

  Last night she could’ve sworn she’d heard someone in her living room, but when she’d gotten up to investigate—holding a baseball bat for protection—there’d been nothing out of place and no one lurking to murder her.

  It was official: she was totally paranoid.

  Even at Tessara it felt as if eyes were on her. When before she’d blithely walked the halls, her mind occupied with formulas, now she was watching for possible moles.

  How did a mole act?

  Were they overtly sneaky and suspicious-like or did they smile at you in the cafeteria and offer to share their homemade banana bread like Yvette in Lab Three?

  She was barely sleeping and her eyes were beginning to cross.

  When her shift ended, she gratefully shut down her station, cleaned her lab and went straight home. She didn’t even run through a drive-through to pick up food, because she just wanted to fall into her bed and forget how her life had been turned upside down.

  She also wanted to forget that stupid ache in her heart whenever she thought of J.T.

  Several times Hope had thought of calling Blue Yonder in the hopes that J.T. would pick up, but she chickened out before she could put the thought into motion.

  What was she going to say to him?

  “Sorry, I was a jerk and I really do care for you”? “Please come back and sleep beside me because I’m scared of my own damn shadow these days”?

  It would be easy to cop out and say that the only reason she missed J.T. was that he made her feel safe during these weird times, but that wasn’t it. He made her laugh, he drove her crazy and the sex was sublime.