Chase gave her a long, hard look, and she shifted uncomfortably. Did he know what she was thinking? Keeping her eyes downward she walked to the cockpit and peered inside. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she turned around to face him. “Where’s the pilot?”
A slow grin spread across his gorgeous face, white teeth gleaming as the smile broadened. Scarlett scanned the back of the plane. As far as she could tell, it was just the two of them. Who was going to ‑‑ Oh!
A large hand circled her arm, directing her into the tiny room. Head held high, she refused to let him see any concern in her face. That would just be icing on the cake for a plan that was already going far too well for him. Slipping between the pedestal and large leather chair, she took her place in the copilot’s seat. Her gaze fell upon the instrument panel, and she wondered if all those little switches and knobs were actually important.
“If you want something to eat or drink, now’s the time to tell me.” He toggled a switch on the center pedestal and then leaned forward to press a small button on the overhead panel.
The engines started almost immediately, and she could feel her stomach tighten. “You have nothing that could possibly interest me.” Scarlett stared straight ahead as he moved behind her, hoping the true meaning of her statement would be driven home for him.
When he failed to reply, she glanced over her shoulder, only to find he wasn’t there. Leaning left as far as possible, she tried to get a look down the plane, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Facing front quickly, she searched the cockpit for something that would allow her to radio for help. A headset hung behind her, but she couldn’t reach it with her hands tied behind her back.
Glancing downward, she noticed a radio handset hanging beneath the control column. Her pulse sped up as she fantasized about calling for help and having armed police swarm the runway ‑‑ stopping them just before takeoff and hauling his ass off to prison. Bending forward to take a closer look, it seemed like all she had to do was grab it, press the little button in, and be heard by whoever was on the receiving end. She could do that with her hands tied, as long as she could yell loudly enough for someone to hear her, couldn’t she?
Shimmying forward on the sheepskin coverlet, she twisted her body around and did her best to squat down until she could reach the radio with her hands. Still no sign of her kidnapper, she clutched the small plastic square and removed it from the base. Bracing herself against the chair, she tried to angle the microphone upward, giving her a better chance to be heard. Fumbling with the buttons, she pressed one of them in and turned her head to the side, trying to get her mouth as close to the microphone as her anatomy would allow.
“Hello?” Scarlett released the button and waited for a reply. Nothing. She pressed it in again, determined to be heard by someone. Anyone! “Hello? My name is Scarlett Montgomery, and I’ve been kidnapped! I’m on a black plane owned by Preston Turner. He’s taking me to Italy! Uh ‑‑ not Preston Turner himself, but his son! Please send someone before it’s ‑‑”
The cabin door closed suddenly, interrupting her plea for help. She dropped the handset on the floor and tried to stand up, but there just wasn’t enough space to do it gracefully. Careening forward, she flinched in preparation for a crash landing. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, stopping her forward motion instantly. Placing a knee on the seat to balance herself, Scarlett flung her hair out of her face and stared him straight in the eye. “I reported you over the radio and gave all the details.” She couldn’t help speaking in a slightly singsong voice. The kind a child would use to taunt a sibling.
“I heard.” Chase turned her around, gently pressing her down into the seat. “I especially enjoyed the ‘black plane’ part. Very technical.”
She fidgeted in her chair for a moment. If he knew, why was he so relaxed? Why wasn’t he in a hurry to takeoff or get them back into the car and head for Canada or someplace? Dear God, she hoped he wasn’t planning a kamikaze, Thelma-and-Louise-style ending to prevent his capture! “The authorities will be here any minute.” She gulped softly.
“This is a private plane, Scarlett, taking off from a private airfield.” His voice was calm as he pulled the seatbelt harness over her head. “I’m not subject to government-mandated searches. She’s fueled and ready to go, because my flight plan was approved last night, and the hangar crew set her up before they left. U.S. Customs will not be paying us a visit. You’d do well to accept your situation.”
Scarlett sucked in her breath as he drew one of the harness straps between her thighs. Their eyes met as he fastened the buckle, his fingers lingering at her waist. She bit her lip nervously. His gaze was penetrating, and she had to force herself to look away. She was a prisoner here, which meant she had no business getting turned on. By any of this. Especially not the constant manhandling, etc. Normal people didn’t get turned on by that kind of thing.
Who said you were normal? a voice chided.
Bah! Scarlett wrinkled her nose and shifted her thoughts. Was he telling her the truth about the police? How could they not care? Didn’t they want to be sure he wasn’t transporting drugs or kidnapping anyone?
“Next time you call in the cavalry” ‑‑ he reached into his pocket and retrieved the makeshift gag ‑‑ “don’t use the internal PA system ‑‑ you’ll get better results.”
Scarlett felt herself blush. Damn it! She bit down on the silky material as it passed through her teeth, frustration welling up in her chest. She had been sure that would work! He grabbed the headset from the back of her chair and placed the headphones over her ears. Her eyes immediately focused on the tiny microphone attached to it.
“I’m the only one who can hear you.” He chuckled as he took his own seat. “Behave, and I’ll untie you once we reach cruising altitude.”
A nasty retort popped into her mind, but she forced herself to keep her cool. Besides, with the gag in her mouth, she couldn’t do more than grumble, anyway. If he really meant to untie her, she might as well keep her temper in check until he did. Pouting heavily, she sank down into the shearling material and moped as best she could. There was no stopping this, apparently.
She watched as he placed his own headset on and buckled himself in. The man was so large his knees almost touched the control column. He flipped a few switches and reached for a knob on the pedestal, electronic static whizzing through her ears as he changed frequencies. She listened curiously as some kind of weather forecast filled her headphones. When it was over, he pulled his cell phone out of his slacks and flipped it open.
Sliding one of his earphones off, he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. Since he wasn’t speaking into the headset mic, it was difficult to hear what he was saying. She could, however, see him pull her passport out of his shirt pocket and open it to the main page. Barely able to hear his request to add an extra person to the flight plan, she was at least relieved to know someone knew where the hell she was going, even if they were unaware of the circumstances. A few seconds later, he snapped the phone shut and placed it in one of the console pockets to his left.
Headset back on, he turned the radio to another setting and pressed a tiny button on the control wheel. “Clearance delivery, Global niner-three-seven-alpha at hangar niner, IFR to Savina, Italy.”
There was a brief pause before another man’s voice popped into her earphones. “Global niner-three-seven-alpha, squawk one-seven-six-seven, cleared as filed, contact Ground 155.26.”
Chase repeated the information over the radio and tweaked a number of instruments on the control panel, presumably testing them before takeoff.
Scarlett felt a tingling between her thighs. There was something unexpectedly sexy about watching him talk to whomever he was speaking to. His air, intense focus, and tone of voice screamed power.
You’re being kidnapped by a gorgeous, übermasculine pilot! The little voice sounded absolutely giddy.
Settle down. That’s not Fabio flying the plane!
Fabio who? the voice sighed dr
eamily.
Rolling her eyes, Scarlett turned her attention to the cockpit interior. She’d never seen one before. The overhead panel and center pedestal were absolutely covered in switches, buttons, and knobs. How could he possibly know what was what?
“Ground” ‑‑ he was talking over the radio again ‑‑ “Global niner-three-seven-alpha at Hanger niner with clearance to Savina, Italy. Ready to taxi.”
“Niner-three-seven-alpha, what a lovely surprise,” a woman’s voice purred through the radio. Scarlett’s head whipped toward Chase, a scowl on her face. Casanova had nothing on this guy. And, judging from the raised eyebrow, he found her reaction more than a little entertaining. “Taxi alpha,” the controller continued. “Hold short runway two-one, contact tower 112.2.”
“Hold short runway two-one, contact tower 112.2, three-seven-alpha.” Chase flipped a couple of toggle switches, moved a few levers, and started pumping the pedals at his feet. As the plane began to taxi forward, Scarlett pursed her lips and started praying that he knew what he was doing!
Take a deep breath and try to relax. Count some sheep or something.
Yeah, right. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as possible, she did her best to pretend this was all a bad dream. The plane came to a stop as he contacted air traffic control and waited for the reply.
“Global niner-three-seven-alpha, cleared for takeoff runway two-one. Contact Departure 133.15 after takeoff.” Another woman’s voice, but at least this one wasn’t throwing herself at him over the airwaves!
As Chase responded, he reached over and gave Scarlett’s harness a good, solid tug, startling her into opening her eyes again. Seemingly convinced it was properly fastened, he reached for the thrust lever and began to push it forward. Slowly, but steadily.
The noise of the engines grew, and she could feel her stomach begin to vibrate slightly. She couldn’t tell if it was a case of nerves or the sheer power of the plane itself. She dealt with it the best way she knew how. She closed her eyes. Again. More tightly than she’d ever done in her entire life.
The power increased until the only sounds audible were that of their combined breathing into the headset mics. At least now she understood why they had them on. Peeking through lowered lashes, she got a look at the tarmac ‑‑ as well as the headlights would permit, anyway. From the corner of her eye she could see him take hold of the yoke as they started down the runway, immediately prompting her to snap her eyelids shut again.
“Relax, Scarlett.” His voice was soothing, somehow. “The worst is almost over.”
Yeah, right!
The jet picked up tremendous speed, and she could feel her body being pulled back into the chair as they left the ground. If the Porsche had been exciting, this was excitement to the nth power. And knowing the man seated beside her was in total control of the plane only served to set that tingling in motion again. Her knickers were going to be soaking wet by the time they reached Italy.
“Chicago Departure, Global niner-three-seven-alpha, departing Sidney Field.” Chase pulled back on the yoke.
“Niner-three-seven-alpha, climb and maintain flight level three-five-one.”
Chase copied the instructions, his voice filtering through her mind as the hum of the engines reverberated through her body. It was somehow relaxing, the rich timbre of his voice, combined with the peaceful lull of the motors.
Yawning sleepily, she turned as much to the side as possible and snuggled down into the sheepskin coverlet. Tonight’s escapade, combined with sheer exhaustion, was beginning to catch up with her. Short of jumping off the plane, she had no choice but to go wherever he wanted to take her now. At least he couldn’t pester her anymore; he’d have his hands full with flying the plane. It had to be, what, nine or ten hours before they reached Italy? If she was going to escape once they got there, she was going to need to catch up on her sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Scarlett was just awake enough to know she had a smile on her face. The kind you’d expect to see on one of Michelangelo’s angels. A delicious warmth radiated from behind her body, and she sighed peacefully, content to remain this way for the rest of whatever.
Or at least until we land.
Blue eyes flew open as every bone in her body went rigid. Her mind kicked into high gear, trying to differentiate between dream and reality. As she scanned the cabin, it all came rushing back, her temper rising as each memory presented itself. Her fury was nearing an all-time high, and she had every intention of letting him experience the brunt of it.
Flinging a leg over the side of the bed, she gasped as a sinewy arm snaked around her waist and pulled her backward. Her bottom connected with a very male physique, and she gasped. A physique which had very little clothing covering its muscular surface. Outraged by his apparent nakedness, she elbowed him in the ribs.
“I should’ve left your restraints on.” He grunted and threw back the covers.
Scarlett’s eyes flew to her wrists. She was free! And no longer gagged! Her gaze returned to her captor, insults at the ready ‑‑ until the last bit of quilt fell away from his body. She could feel herself staring. She couldn’t help it. The detail in this man’s shoulders was absolutely astounding. As he propped himself up in the bed, the muscles in his chest, arms, and even forearms flexed heavily beneath his weight. Two-hundred and some odd pounds of sleek, well-oiled machine.
“Do I get a turn?” He sounded amused.
Wrinkling her brow in confusion, she blushed when his meaning hit home. She was gaping. Staring. Practically drooling. If he didn’t have to fly the plane ‑‑
Scarlett spun around to face the cockpit, eyes wide with concern.
“Autopilot.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his arms.
The feel of his warm skin against her own very nearly made her purr. It was enough to temporarily disarm her. Until she realized he wasn’t the only one sporting next to no clothing. “Where are my clothes?” Her tone was accusative.
“Over there.” He indicated one of the large reclining chairs. “You fell asleep soon after take off.” His fingers brushed over her lips, and she struggled to keep her focus. “I thought you’d be more comfortable here.”
“And you thought I’d be even more comfortable without my clothes.” She glared at him.
“You don’t meet my definition of undressed.” His gaze roamed across her cleavage. “Would you like to see what does?”
Scarlett’s mouth fell open as his hands moved the clasp on her bra. “No ‑‑ no, you’re right. I’m clothed,” she sputtered. His hands ceased their movement, and she sighed with relief. Until another thought occurred to her.
“Why are we in the same bed?” She tried to sit up, but found herself locked in his embrace.
“Bombardier doesn’t offer bunk beds in their option planning.” His eyes twinkled. “Besides, you’ve been alone for hours. I’ve only been here for the last fifteen minutes.”
His arms tightened around her waist, and she moaned, enjoying the power in his touch. Unfortunately, he was still a letch, and she couldn’t let desire interfere with her rational mind. Flattening her palms against his chest, she pushed herself backward and made for the edge of the bed. “Can’t you find a willing woman?”
Before her feet could hit the floor, she found herself flat on her back, Chase Turner’s godlike body hovering above her. The move had nearly knocked the wind out of her, which explained why she was suddenly breathless. At least, that’s the excuse she was sticking to.
Strong fingers delved through her hair, tilted her head back on the pillow, and angled her neck upward. His other hand slid under her hips, raising her body until it touched his. Lowering his head to the hollow of her throat, his lips grazed her skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. Within seconds, goose bumps covered every square inch of her body.
His fingers drove deeper into her locks, his grip tightening as he pulled her head toward him. She gasped as the move electrified her senses and
turned her nipples into tiny, hardened peaks. This is what he’d done to her on the terrace. It was the move that replayed itself in her dreams every night thereafter. It was the move that could make her his, if he ever found out.
“You’ll be willing.” The huskiness of his statement made her belly flutter.
Scarlett’s mind was begging her to let him have his wicked way when her back suddenly hit the mattress. Her eyes flew open as he disentangled their bodies and slid off the divan. Where the hell was he going? And why was he going now?
“The door on the right is the lavatory.” He dipped his head toward the back of the cabin. “Your suitcase is the room adjacent to it. You have ten minutes to get yourself presentable and back to the cockpit.”
Staring openmouthed as he pulled his slacks on, she had the distinct impression he’d wound her up just to see how she’d handle being left high and dry. Fury crept its way into her lungs, making her want to scream her head off and count all the ways she hated him. But he’d probably get off on that.
Giving herself a quick once-over, she realized she looked pretty damned hot at the moment. A white lace bra showing off her lovely 34Ds, and a cute pair of lacy boy-briefs which looked fantastic on her long legs, particularly when she did the Work-It walk.
Biting her lip seductively, she inched her way to the edge of the bed, her movement slow and unhurried in order to give him the best view. Her feet touched down on the carpet, and she stretched slowly, letting an earthy moan fill the back of her throat. He was too far to the right to get a look at his face, but he was close enough to know he’d stopped moving. He was watching her. Let him. Let him get a good look at the woman he’d never find himself in bed with again.
Strutting like a cat in heat, she headed for the back of the plane. She’d almost reached it when a steely hand came down across her bottom. “Owww!” She howled like a wounded animal before turning around to face her attacker.
“Not the type of attention you were hoping for?” he called casually over his shoulder as he headed for the cockpit.
Stealing Scarlett Page 9