“Wouldn’t hurt so much if you had more padding down there,” he offered.
Kimber shot him a glare. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with my behind.”
“I thought that was my job—delivering your behind to the Maldives to…meet your boyfriend, did you say?”
“That’s correct.” Gil would be landing in Singapore soon. He was disappointed, rightfully so, that they wouldn’t be arriving together. But she’d make it up to him with the leopard-print bra and crotchless panties. The extra suitcase of lingerie would be her saving grace.
Finn stopped the SUV at a pay booth and removed his wallet. “By the way, the bill for parking in the short-term pay lot for all this time will be added to your tab.”
“Fine,” she mumbled.
While he flirted shamelessly with the young attendant, Kimber had a chance to study him more closely. He had what some might consider a nice profile of bold, clear features, but it was compromised by the day’s worth of dark beard that gave credence to his story of staying up all night. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, but he had the loose posture and demeanor of someone ten years younger. Everything about him—the cluttered vehicle, the loud shirt, the lack of manners—was in opposition to everything she believed in about pushing oneself to excellence and integrity. It was beyond her how some people could set their personal standards so low.
When the attendant passed him a receipt, Kimber noticed the woman had written her name and phone number on it. He pulled away, seemingly satisfied with himself. Kimber rolled her eyes.
The SUV windows were down, ushering in hot, arid air. Her hair blew in disarray, but she was too tired to care. She stretched up to see out the windows and take in her surroundings. Dubai was a dense city, with towering skyscrapers and elevated highways. Construction cranes were everywhere, speaking to the rate of progress.
“First time in Dubai?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Great city, great people,” he said, then reached behind his seat again. This time, he withdrew two yellow apples. “Want one?”
She practically pounced on it, then bit into it greedily.
“What do you do back in the States?” he asked, then bit into his own apple.
“Attorney,” she said between bites.
He made a rueful noise in his throat. “Too bad.” He turned his attention back to the road, blatantly unimpressed.
Kimber frowned and concentrated on devouring the apple and not falling off the crate. “How far to the other airport?”
He shrugged. “It depends on traffic. And it’s actually more of an airstrip than an airport.”
She didn’t care as long as they could get airborne sooner rather than later. Kimber gnawed the apple down to the seeds.
“Hungry much?” he asked with a grin. He took her core and tossed it out the window.
“Thank you,” she mumbled self-consciously, then removed a handkerchief from her purse to wipe her hands. She felt his gaze on her, sizing her up. It made her squirm because she knew he didn’t approve of her, that he thought her, her luggage and her occupation were frivolous. She withdrew a compact and groaned inwardly at her pale, makeup-less reflection. She swiveled up her pink lipstick for a quick fix, but when she tried to apply it, the SUV swerved, leaving her with a bright streak on one cheek.
Kimber gasped and Finn burst out laughing.
“You did that on purpose,” she accused, wiping at her cheek with the handkerchief.
“Put that stuff away,” he said. “No one here cares what you look like.”
She stiffened at his rebuff. “I care.”
“Ah, loosen up, Fancy Pants.”
She frowned. “Don’t call me that. And don’t tell me to loosen up.”
“Get told that a lot, huh?”
“No.”
He laughed, which only irritated her more. She refused to look at him, concentrating, instead, on the scenery. Dubai could have been any large city in the States, except for the onion-dome architecture, soaring palm trees and the road signs written in Arabic. Another difference was that everything looked new and was tinged with a beautiful golden-pink sheen from the mesmerizing sky palette. And despite the streets being clogged with vehicles and the sidewalks being packed with people, the pace was decidedly slower. Fewer honking horns, more chatter. The reduced tempo could be attributed to the pervasive heat, she knew, but she also recalled Elaina’s comments about life in this part of the world being more relaxed.
It was an existence alien to Kimber. In fact, anxiety crowded her chest at the thought of all the billable hours a company would forgo in a week’s time, the business that wouldn’t transpire, the items on a to-do list that wouldn’t get done. The relative lethargy would drive her mad.
“Can’t you go any faster?” she asked, glancing at the speedometer.
“Nope,” he said cheerfully.
But soon they’d left the city behind and were moving through a less dense area. Tree copses and sparsely grassed fields became more common, interspersed with pockets of residential areas. When Kimber spotted a small plane rising in the distance, she breathed a sigh of relief. They must be getting close. Good thing, too, because her rear end was numb and, she feared, might be forever imprinted with the waffle design of the plastic crate.
“Here we are,” he said congenially, then slowed and turned onto a paved road that stretched across a field.
The going was bumpy, though, and Kimber sucked in breaths against the keen pain of bouncing on the crate. After an interminable length of time, a large, long, metal building came into view—the hangar, she assumed. Finn slowed the vehicle and pulled into a parking lot populated with Lamborghinis and Rolls-Royce and Bentley limousines.
Obviously many private planes were housed there.
She groaned in relief when the SUV came to a stop, but it was a few seconds before she could lift herself off the insidious crate. To his credit, Finn did walk around and open her door. But to her dismay, Kimber practically fell into his arms trying to climb out.
“Whoa,” he said, steadying her.
Their gazes locked and she was struck mute by the merry light in his brown eyes. It was so unfamiliar, this glib cheerfulness. The lines on either side of his mouth spoke of the ease with which he smiled and laughed. It was unsettling…and suspect. Kimber became aware of his warm hands on her waist and arm, and she jerked away. The man was probably used to seducing every woman in his path with a tickle and a grin.
She stepped back and smoothed her hands over her wind-whipped hair. Her suit was a mass of wrinkled fabric, her soft leather pumps were scarred and dusty, and her panty hose sported a two-inch wide run. “Where can I change clothes?”
Finn moved to the back of the SUV and removed her bags, setting them on the ground. Then he withdrew a black duffel and hooked it over his shoulder. “You can change right here.”
She looked around the parking lot crowded with cars. “Here? Isn’t there a bathroom inside the hangar?”
He made a rueful noise. “Not for female types, I’m afraid. The facilities are primarily for pilots and employees, all of whom pee standing up.”
“So I’m supposed to change clothes right here in broad daylight?”
“I’ll hold up a towel for you.” He grinned. “And I won’t even look—unless you want me to.”
Outraged, Kimber lifted her chin. “No, thank you. I’ll wait until we land.”
“Suit yourself. Let’s go.”
He closed the SUV hatch and took off walking toward the hangar, leaving Kimber openmouthed. “Aren’t you going to help me with my luggage?”
He turned around, but kept walking backward. “That whole not-packing-more-than-you-can-carry thing still stands.”
Kimber gritted her teeth in frustration, then retrieved her suitcases and followed him, telling herself that her time with the odious Finn Meyers was almost over. A few more hours, then she never had to lay eyes on him or his flowered shirt again.
CHAPTE
R FOUR
FINN’S MIND AND BODY were clicking away as he walked toward the hangar. He was loathe to walk away from paying work, but Kimber Karlton was more of a handful than he’d anticipated.
Sure, she was the run-of-the-mill high-maintenance American female—he’d expected that. What he hadn’t expected was his perverse need to rankle her, to push her buttons, to bring her down a notch. Maybe she reminded him a little too much of himself at one time.
Or maybe he was simply homesick for that independent feminine sexuality that seemed exclusive to American women. Kimber Karlton had the mind of an attorney and the body of a cocktail waitress. Every man’s dream.
And nightmare, he reminded himself with a mental shake. Her sister Elaina was compensating him well, so he’d best keep his mind on business.
He shouted hello to Arif, the young man who had towed Finn’s Cessna 152 from the hangar.
“Hello, Mr. Finn. She is ready to fly.”
“Thank you, Arif.”
Something behind Finn had caught the young man’s attention. Finn turned and watched as Kimber struggled toward them with her two suitcases. “I hope she’s ready,” he muttered.
“The lady is your passenger?” the young man asked. “I will help her.”
“No.” Finn stopped him. “You’ll offend her if you offer to help. American women want to do everything themselves.”
The boy nodded solemnly. “I have heard this about American women.” He studied Kimber with blatant interest, then turned back. “But she is pretty, yes?”
Finn frowned. “Trust me, Arif. They only look like that to get you into their cage, then they will eat you alive.”
Arif laughed. “That is not just American women, Finn. That is any woman.”
“You have a point, my friend.”
“With all that luggage, are you sure you don’t want to take your larger plane?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“But—”
“I’m sure, Arif.” Finn extended a one-hundred-dirham note. “Load the smaller suitcase only.”
Arif’s eyes widened, then he took the money. “Yes, sir.” The young man handed Finn a log to record his flight plan. “When will you return?”
“As soon as possible,” Finn said. But when Kimber dropped her bags next to the plane and lifted her defiant blue gaze to his, he muttered, “And not soon enough.”
* * *
KIMBER LOOKED over the toy plane that Finn stood next to and her stomach bolted. “This is your plane?”
“Yep.”
“It’s a tin can with a propeller.”
His mouth quirked. “Don’t worry, the rubber bands holding it together are strong.”
She swallowed hard.
“Kidding, okay? It’ll get us up and down.”
“In a horrific fiery freefall?” Kimber lifted her arms and shook her head. “I can’t ride in a plane this small.” She waved vaguely toward the hangar. “Get another, preferably adult-size.”
He scowled. “This is it, Fancy Pants. If you’d rather take your chances getting a seat on a commercial flight, just say the word and I’ll take you back to the airport.” He made a rueful noise. “’Course, my fee still stands.”
Kimber bit down on the inside of her cheek. She was sleepy, hungry, grungy and at least one of the other seven dwarfs she couldn’t think of at the moment, but she was determined not to cry in front of this man. She’d just keep reminding herself that within a few hours, she’d be in paradise with Gil and they would laugh over her misadventures with the slackard pilot. She angled her head. “Will I have to sit on a milk crate for the duration of the flight?”
Finn grinned. “No.”
She took a deep breath, then puffed out her cheeks in an exhale. “Okay.”
Finn looked her up and down. “Looks like you weigh what, about a buck twenty-five?”
“Yes…why?”
He tapped the log. “I need to record the cargo.”
“Cargo?” She arched an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you’re not married?”
“Nope.”
“Shocker.”
Finn gestured to the young man standing next to him who had been watching their exchange with avid interest. “Kimber, say hello to Arif.”
“Hello, Arif,” she said, sticking out her hand.
“Hello, miss.” He blushed and shook her hand.
Finn turned to her. “After I finish the preflight check, we’ll be ready to go. You can go ahead and get in.”
Arif helped her into the plane. The cockpit was the size of a love seat. Her heart thudded in her chest and her hands felt clammy. The heat inside the metal plane was oppressive. From her purse she removed a moistened towelette and dabbed at her hairline. Unfortunately there wasn’t a mirror over the visor, or even a visor. But she was too tired to care what she looked like. And as Finn had so elegantly put it—no one here cared.
Certainly not him.
She watched him through the windows as he circled the plane, checking the underside of the wings, withdrawing into a tube a clear liquid she assumed was fuel, then holding it up to analyze it. This was a side of Finn she hadn’t yet seen—thoughtful and methodical, a man who knew his stuff. It made her feel safe. And it made her wonder how and why he’d ended up here in Dubai.
Not that it wasn’t a glorious place as far as she’d seen. An exciting place, to be sure, and Finn Meyers was certainly the adventurous type. But despite his happy-go-lucky nature, there was something aloof about the man, something intriguing…
The pilot-side door opened and he jumped inside. “We’re ready to take off.” He pointed to a compartment on her side. “Airsick bags are inside if you need one.”
“Where are the parachutes?”
“Ha, good one. Don’t worry—we won’t be that high.”
“You mean, if we fall out of the sky, we’ll still be okay?”
“No, I mean if we fall out of the sky, we’ll hit the ground before we could deploy a parachute.”
Kimber sat back in her seat. Dear God, what had she gotten herself into?
Finn put on headphones and started the engine. The nose propeller whirred to life and became a blur. The noise was so loud, it settled the question of whether she might catch a nap on the way. Her teeth rattled from the vibration. The plane began a slow taxi out to a runway. Finn was talking to someone in the tower throughout. Suddenly the plane surged forward and they were airborne. There weren’t any armrests to grip, so she dug her fingernails into the seat. She closed her eyes tight as the feeling of weightlessness took hold in her stomach. Focusing on breathing in and out took her mind off the fact that they were hurtling through the air in a windup plane.
“Open your eyes,” Finn shouted with a laugh. “You’re missing out on the fun part.”
Slowly Kimber opened her eyes and oriented herself. She swallowed and waited a few seconds to see if her stomach was going to revolt. When it didn’t, she peered out the window to see they were circling back over the small airport. From the runway, Arif waved with both arms. And next to him on the ground….
Kimber’s eyes went wide. “We left one of my suitcases!”
Finn made a clicking noise with his cheek. “Yeah…about that—we didn’t have room.”
She gaped at him. “But those are my clothes! What am I supposed to wear?”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You still have one suitcase.”
“But it’s full of…” Lingerie and bathing suits and other frivolously optimistic things, like strawberry-flavored body liqueur.
“Full of what?”
“Nothing.” Her mouth tightened in anger. “You had no right to leave my suitcase behind!”
“I’m the pilot—I had every right. This plane only holds 520 pounds.”
She did the math in her head and frowned. “How much do you weigh?”
“One eighty.”
“With my weight, that’s barely above three hundred. My suitcase couldn’t weigh more than forty
pounds—that’s way less than 520!”
“But that’s not counting the wood.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “What wood?”
He sucked in air. “Guess your sister forgot to tell you about that part.”
She set her jaw. “What part?”
“I have to make a pit stop in Sri Lanka to pick up wood for my house.”
She blinked. “Come again?”
“I’m building a house and I can get wood in Sri Lanka that I can’t get anywhere else. I told your sister that was the deal—we stop in Sri Lanka on the way to Maldives.”
“Can’t you take me to Maldives first and stop in Sri Lanka on the way back to Dubai?”
“No can do. The wood will be gone by then. It’s a special shipment—I have to get there today.”
Kimber tamped down the panic bubbling in her stomach. “Okay, that shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. We could still be in Maldives by late afternoon, right?”
“Uh…no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have to go to a remote place to get the wood. But don’t worry—I’ll fly you to Maldives first thing in the morning.”
Indignation shot through her. “That’s unacceptable!”
He shrugged. “Sorry. That was the deal.”
“But my boyfriend is expecting me in Maldives this evening!”
“So call him.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed the vile words that sprang to the back of her throat. “Of course I’ll call him, but the point is, I want to be there tonight, not tomorrow morning!”
“Ah, come on—what difference will a few hours make?”
“A big difference!” she cried.
“Have you ever been to Sri Lanka?”
“No,” she mumbled.
“So look at it as an unplanned adventure.” He grinned. “Besides, you and your boyfriend would both be too tired to enjoy tonight, anyway.”
She gasped. “How dare you!”
He winked. “We need to get you something to drink as soon as we land. That’ll help loosen you up.”
Sand, Sun...Seduction! Page 3