by Diana Downey
I hate to admit it, even to myself, whenever I look at her, I see her vulnerability and the tragic loss shine in those blazing eyes of hers. I still remember those young, tender lips smoldering against mine, and as drunk as I was earlier, she’s lucky after the way she pressed that hot body against my hard-on, I didn’t rip her wedding dress off and fuck her in front of all her guests.
As much as I cared about Niki, Cyn is the one constantly giving me nightmares, torturing me with that ass and legs long enough to choke me. And to think I was going to ask the wrong woman to marry me.
I stuff the ring box back into the zippered pocket of my backpack and tell myself not marrying Niki is for the best. Virtual Niki and I were compatible. She told me she loved fishing, though now that I think about it she always had an excuse when I flew out to the coast.
I get up as Cyn and her husband walk to the gate. It doesn’t surprise me that they’re traveling first class. I catch up to them.
As Blaine—I believe that’s what he’s called—fishes for the tickets from his back pocket, I lean over and say to Cyn, “Your new husband must not know how to treat a princess. You’re a little underdressed.”
“It’s all good, Shane O’Flannery. Don’t spoil my honeymoon like you did my wedding.”
“I had no idea you even knew my last name, Princess. Have a nice flight.” I give her a big cheerful grin.
“I will, thank you.” From her sinister eyebrows knitted together, she must not have gotten over me leaving her on the ground. It was poetic.
It was also rude of me, but I’ve never been that deceived by a girl. A few have fooled me into believing they were sweet and innocent though. Women can be devious.
“What are you doing here?” Blaine asks.
“I’m going hunting,” I say. It's to track down the bear that killed my younger brother and put the damn thing to rest.
“Shane’s from Alaska,” Cyn says. “Sitting with the rest of the grunge in the back?” she says, returning my smirk.
He turns back around to hand the woman the tickets.
“That’s right. I’m just a commoner, Your Highness,” I say.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t forget it.”
“You’re just mad that your fantasy honeymoon has gone down in flames or rather iced over in Alaska. Why would Blaine take a princess to the wilds during hunting season?”
“Hunting season?” Doubt casts shadows in those enchanting eyes before she shakes it away. “I love the outdoors, and his name is Blake.” A pout crumples those perfect lips of hers. “I love him.”
She spins away from me and hustles on board. It would make this much easier if I didn’t get fully aroused inhaling her spicy scent and listening to that smart mouth of hers. I know how I’d shut up those full lips of hers.
I wait for cattle call before handing over my ticket. The airline returned some of my frequent flyer miles for my first class tickets for Niki and me. They may come in handy, now that I’m single and broke, but I’ve been here before.
As I go by Cyn relaxing in the cushy, oversized first-class seats, I grin at her. She buries her face into the champagne she's drinking and then into Blake’s uninviting mouth. Her new husband must be a total idiot to bring a girl like her to Fairbanks.
What does he plan on doing there with Cyn? I know what I’d do with her. I’d put her over my knee and give her the spanking a princess like her deserves and then I’d fuck her until that electric smile drowned out the lights of any big city.
Maybe Blaine likes the outdoors. Naw. He’d probably break one of his manicured fingernails, so what’s his angle? If he likes men, why be with a woman, especially one as feminine as Cyn?
When I take my seat, the stewardess comes by and rests her hand on my shoulder. “Is there anything I can get you?”
She’s a pretty brunette and probably a couple years older than me, but I don’t climb back into the saddle that easily, though I’d make an exception for that sassy Cyn.
I believed my relationship with Niki was real. At least with Cyn she admits she was looking for a wealthy asshole.
“Maybe later,” I say to the stewardess, “but thanks.”
A young girl, probably an unaccompanied minor, in her tweens takes the seat opposite of me. She glances at me sideways, pretending not to study me, letting out a nervous giggle.
“Hi,” I say, remembering the times I flew with my sister and Sky from Fairbanks to Austin to see my mom, and how every bump made Julie clutch the armrests because she was terrified of falling out of the sky.
She giggles again. “I’m Sam. I mean Samantha.”
“Shane,” I say, offering my hand across the aisle. She shakes it with another giggle, her cheeks on fire.
She leans over and whispers, “I hate to fly.”
I smile. “That’s okay.”
I was around ten when I first started flying to Austin, not too long after Mom left Dad. She even left her son from her previous marriage with Dad plus my younger brother and sister who’s a year older than Cyn.
I eventually spent the school year in Austin with Mom along with my younger brother and sister because Dad wanted us to have a better education than home schooling us in the tiny town of Tonakwa in the middle of nowhere, Alaska where he moved after the divorce.
Sam grins. “Good. I don’t want to die alone.”
Laughing, I say, “You won’t.”
It’s a night flight, so we’ll get in late. I wiggle in my seat to get comfortable, so I can sleep. The plane lurches backward. Sam’s hand clutches onto the armrest—the telltale sign of terror. My hand reaches over to hers to squeeze it.
“We’ll be fine," I say.
Her brows pinch together. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I let her hold my hand until we get into the air. “Dad or Mom in Fairbanks?”
Her lips screw up. “I live with Dad in Fairbanks. My mom doesn’t even want me.”
“You’ll get through it. My mom dumped me, too, and I turned out okay.”
Sam laughs, a blush pinking her cheeks. “More than okay.”
Her breathing increases but then relaxes when the plane levels out. “I read that planes don’t usually fall out of the sky.”
“They don’t.” After we reach cruising altitude, I get up and pull out pillows and blankets from the overhead compartment. “Get some sleep," I say, handing her one of each.
Sam scrunches up the pillow behind her before wrapping the blanket around her legs. “I think I’ll read for a bit.”
The seats are empty beside me, so I stretch out and sleep. I dream about Niki and the lies she told me. Damn it hurts. My friends back home plan on prepping the cabin for my proposal. It’ll be hard to reach them and tell them the engagement is off.
I toss in my sleep while my mind works over what Cyn said. The truth makes me a sucker, yet I miss the woman Niki pretended to be. Did she fake all her orgasms? She did scream like a porn star.
A tapping on my shoulder startles me awake, and I just about jump out of my seat. “What are you doing here?”
Cyn stares down at me then pushes my legs aside, so she can squeeze that fabulous ass past my knees and sit down in the seat next to me. She carries two glasses of champagne and spills some onto my lap, so I grumble.
“Careful,” I say. “Why are you here, Princess? Where’s Blaine?”
She frowns. “Blake fell asleep, and I’m bored. How can he fall asleep on our honeymoon?” She snorts out her disapproval.
The scent of her lingers in my nose. I rub it to brush the hot scent of female away. I can’t possibly be going through withdrawal so soon, though it was her that I was initially attracted to and still am.
I push back the seat to give us more room. “What? Blaine didn’t want to join the mile-high club?”
I wish I could stop myself from snapping at her, but she’s probably right about Niki, and I hate that. I hate that Niki is just another woman hopped up on money and appearances, like Cyn.
Cyn actually pouts. “No. I asked.”
I chuckle because no matter how much we spar I adore her. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about Nikita.”
Fuck. I hate it when Cyn tries to be nice and that I still picture her naked. I rub my chin that’s thick with a couple days worth of growth. It’ll keep my face warm in the interior. “I should’ve seen it coming.”
“No. She’s really good at hiding who she is.”
“Can we talk about something else?” Irritation creeps into my words. I don’t want to think about Niki.
“So what happen to your millions?” Cyn asks.
I take one of the glasses of champagne away from her and down it. “Aren't you pleasant? Why don’t you return to your seat as soon as you get me more free alcohol? I’d prefer a beer though.”
Her brow lifts in anticipation of my answer to her question while she ignores my request.
I recall staring absently at the 200 million dollar tax bill and thinking fuck. What the hell am I going to do? All the money is gone, except for a few million I transferred into another company. “Someone cleaned out my foreign accounts.”
She cocks that pretty head of hers. “How?”
“If I knew that, I would’ve killed the son-of-a-bitch by now, and I’d be in jail.”
“Didn’t you have partners?”
“I’m the CEO, the primary shareholder, so I’m responsible.” That’s what my lawyer told me. He’s a useless piece of shit.
“Any ideas? I doubt Nikita could pull that off. She’s not that bright.” Cyn brushes her soft breast against my arm. I hate her more because my dick stirs in my jeans. Damn thing would sit up and beg her to pat its head.
“Niki’s not dumb,” I huff out. Her fooling me proved that. “And I don’t suspect her.”
The plane hits a bump then another, waking Sam. “What was that?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, but then the plane pitches, sloshing Cyn’s glass.
She inhales it, so she won’t lose anymore. She reaches across me, extending her hand to Sam, her perky tit now poking my chest and damn if my cock doesn’t ask her to come a little closer. “Hi, I’m Cyn.”
Sam responds with a shy smile. “Sam.”
The plane shudders from another bump, and the seatbelt sign lights up. Sam grabs my hand from across the aisle, which I immediately take.
“It’s okay,” I say.
The stewardess, who’d spoken to me earlier, stops by and says to Cyn, “Miss, you should probably return to your seat.”
“I will in a moment. I have my seatbelt on.” She lifts her arms to show the airline attendant. “See? Oh, and would you bring me a beer?”
Cyn remembered. Maybe I should be nice to her.
The stewardess in first class takes a jump seat and straps herself in while the other two check the passengers. The plane bucks and plummets probably hundreds or even thousands of feet. My ears pop, sounding like a machine gun firing in my head.
Several people scream, and a few make the sign of the cross, even my heart shudders briefly. Sam cries out, digging her fingers into my palm.
Overhead bins fall open, spilling contents, and drinks and snacks fly from the seat trays. This has turned out to be a rocky ride.
Cyn grips my arm. “I can’t die. I haven’t taken my honeymoon.”
“We must’ve hit a downdraft,” I say, though I’d feel better if I were in the pilot’s seat. “We’ll be fine.”
Sam tightens her grip on my hand. “Are you sure?”
The pilot comes on the radio. “We’re experiencing some turbulence. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened.”
“I think we’ve already figured that out,” Cyn says.
Another jolt rocks the plane, and Sam screams. A stewardess stumbles and falls. Her lip hits the seatback tray and splits open, blood spilling from her mouth. She finds a nearby seat, sits down, and fastens the belt. When I glance behind me, the other stewardess is crawling to her knees. The plane hits a few more bumps, and I undo my buckle to get up.
“Don’t leave me,” Sam cries.
“I’m right here,” Cyn says, scooting over to my aisle seat. She swivels around to see the stewardess now facing us. A jagged cut runs down her forehead, and blood gushes from the wound.
While the plane pitches from side to side, I stagger down the aisle. I help the stewardess up and usher her to two empty seats. Using clean napkins from the food cart left in the aisle, I apply pressure to her forehead.
After reassuring Sam, Cyn leaves her seat and makes her way past us. She rummages around in the back and brings me the first aid kit. “Here, you go. I’ll go back to Sam.”
“Thank you,” I say, digging into the case for steri-strips. If she didn’t turn on the thoughtfulness, I could completely ignore her and that body of hers. Well, maybe.
Cyn naturally sways down the aisle, catching several appreciative glances, including mine. When the plane jostles, she falls into some guy's lap, and he says, “You can do that any day.”
She gives him one of her infectious smiles and returns to Sam where she talks quietly to her.
The stewardess says, “Thank you. I’m fine.”
After the plane levels out and the seatbelt sign turns off, I get up to return to my seat. The stewardess hands me a slip of paper.
“Call me,” she says, winking.
I don’t say anything but head back to Cyn and Sam.
“I should return to my husband,” Cyn says. “Nice meeting you, Sam.”
After she leaves, Sam says, “She’s really pretty and nice.”
“And married,” I say.
The jet finally lands, and as we deplane, Sam talks to her dad on her cell. “He’s late,” she says to me while tears well up in her eyes. “He fell asleep…again.”
“I’ll wait with you until he comes.” I yawn because it’s around three in the morning.
Hope builds in her hazel eyes. “You will?”
“Sure.” I help Sam with her luggage and pick up my checked guns while eyeing Blake and Cyn waiting on their bags.
Cyn doesn’t even give me a second look while her arm is locked onto his. They seem like the happy couple. Maybe I misjudged him.
Naw. That’s not likely. I’m still waiting on actual bones being discovered in his basement.
Sam and I walk toward the exit where rain beats on the glass.
“It’s too cold to sit outside,” I say. “Let’s wait inside for your dad.”
Sam and I sit on a bench just inside where we can watch the cars rolling by to pick up arriving flight passengers. Blake opens the door to a limo that Cyn and he slide into. As it turns out, his family does have money, so she found a suitable match.
“Your friend’s going to turn into an ice cube,” Sam says. “Hope she brought other clothes.”
“This is just an excuse to go on a shopping tour.”
Sam’s face pinches. “In Fairbanks? At the outfitters’ store?”
“It probably won’t be like other places she’s traveled to.” I’ll stop by Rick’s Outfitters myself to pick up ammo. That’s where Blaine will most likely take her if he knows anything about Fairbanks.
Sam’s dad shows up in another twenty minutes. He gets out and runs inside. “I’m sorry, honey. When the flight was delayed, I fell asleep.”
“It’s okay. Shane O’Flannery kept me company.”
“Thank you,” he says, observing me more closely. “You aren’t Dennis’s son, are you?”
“Yeah.” My dad’s popular here for trapping, hunting, and fishing.
“He’s a good man. Helped me set my traps last winter. Need a ride?”
“I’m okay.” Tonight, I’m staying on the outskirts of Fairbanks, which is probably out of their way.
I smile and say goodbye to Sam then hail a taxi to take me to my friend Oki’s house. He’s supposed to fly me out to the interior to hunt the bear that has eluded my father and me for years.
>
When I get to Oki’s house, the lights are on in his shop. He’s still up, dinking with parts from his Cessna seaplane. His husky Fang tromps over to me and rests his massive head on my thigh.
“You’re up late,” I say, placing my backpack and rifle onto the concrete floor.
Oki doesn’t look up but studies the alternator he’s holding. “I actually have a paying client in two days.”
“Another hunter?” I don’t want him going after my bear.
“No. Some dude on his honeymoon.”
“Shit.” No way could it be Cyn and Blake. “Where are they going?”
“To those rustic cabins just off the lake. They’re supposed to stay for a couple weeks.”
“They wouldn’t be Mr. and Mrs. Waits?”
He glances up. “You know them?”
Why the hell would Blake take her there? The interior could get tons of snow anytime now. “I know Cynthia. There’s something odd about him taking her out there. She’s a princess, not an outdoor girl.”
Oki shrugs. “Since they’re paying me, I’m not going to complain.”
“Like I’ve never flown you out into the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter for free, and it’s only fall.”
I rub the tension in my neck muscles. I don’t like Cyn going out there with Blake, but she won’t listen to me if I tell her not to go.
Chapter Nine
Cyn
After lunch, Blake drives me to the local outfitters where I will be decked out in the latest fishing gear. While I shop for hiking boots, Blake checks out the fishing rods.
I try on some really cute pink and purple boots. I study them in the foot mirror. They’re so me.
“She doesn’t want those,” a mesquite voice says that can only belong to my deep-rooted annoyance. Shane picks up some icky tan ones. “These are waterproof and light. She’ll try on the Merrells.” He’s the worst. Now he’s trying to ruin my honeymoon.
I fist my hands on my hips. “I don’t like those, Shane, and why are you here?”
“Because this is the best outfitters in Fairbanks and I need ammo.” The serious, worn-down expression he wears is the same as when he found my mom dead. “Let me help you. You’ll be more comfortable in these.”