Penny tapped her nails against the table surface, then inadvertently met his gaze. Ramsey O'Keefe studied her, meticulously, and though she was certainly used to being scrutinized, she didn't care for the unfamiliar sensations he caused. She wanted to look away, knew she should since she didn't want to give him the wrong idea, but she couldn't. His chocolate eyes seemed to coat and swallow her as she mumbled her credit card number to the operator, unable to break away.
"Hello? Hello? Wainright here. Who is this?"
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Penny's attention jolted to the call. "Tony? Hi, It's me." She shifted away from O'Keefe.
"Where the devil are you, my dear?"
"About thirty thousand feet up."
"Excellent, Hank is just pulling off the exit, I believe. And a bit too fast." Penny heard Hank give their ETA. "If you can make that time," Anthony growled, "you're fired!"
"You can't fire him, Anthony. He's my driver."
"You should, my dear. This dinosaur is actually listing to one side with every turn."
Her lips twitched. Hank could be going forty miles an hour and Anthony would think it was the Indy 500. "That dinosaur is worth a fortune, Anthony."
"As if you ever cared," was his reply. The connection crackled and his voice faded.
"Ahh, Tony—" She swallowed, gathering nerve. "I have a guest with me."
Dead silence. Then, "You can't be serious?" His shocked voice was enough to make her cringe.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Penny glanced briefly at Ramsey, who was doing his best to unnerve her with that penetrating stare. Half twisted toward her, his torso was braced by one elbow on the chair arm, hands clasped, booted ankles crossed. The stark outline of his broad thigh against the pale interior held her attention. Damn those legs.
"Penelope? Penelope?" filtered through the phone. 'Are you all right?" Ramsey leaned forward slightly, eyes digging deep into her composure, and Penny bristled, turning away. "Penelope!" Tony shouted.
"What!" she hissed back.
He tisked into the receiver. "Testy, aren't we? Are you regretting your gracious invitation?"
Yes, she silently screamed. Yes! But instead she said, "Any word?"
"I'm sorry, dear. Can't hear—what was—?"
Penny frowned softly. Funny, the connection wasn't fading on her end. "Have they contacted you?" she repeated.
"The Bahama rescue are—" the connection drifted, then
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returned. "This is ridicu—! Too many build—talk to you— the ground—"
The line went dead, and Penny replaced the phone, quick fear accelerating her heart beat.
Tony knew something.
"Who captains this ship?"
Penny glanced up; he hadn't moved, but his smile was gone. "What? Oh, a pilot. Daniel." She waved toward the front.
"The voice in the grate?" He pointed to the vented white plate.
"No, yes, the guy that was at the door?" He looked even more confused. "Wait a sec." What had Tony discovered, she wondered as she punched the intercom.' 'Daniel, we're coming up." Then she stood, gesturing for him to join her.
Ramsey started to rise, but the harness jerked him back down. Penny's lips twitched and she looked away as he cursed and released the latch. Then he was there, close and towering over her, his dark head grazing the cool beige ceiling. His rough fingertip touched beneath her chin, tilting her face toward his and for one wildly exciting moment she thought he'd actually kiss her.
"Ahh, lass, I would bear the point of a blade if 'twould gain me m'lady's smile." The words were softly spoken, sincere, and Penny looked away.
"This way, Mister O'Keefe." Oh, why did I do this?
Ramsey sighed, his shoulders drooping as she moved around the partition and rapped on the door. It popped open, revealing Daniel just dropping back into his seat and replacing his headset. Penny ducked, stepping into the cockpit. His blond copilot smiled brightly, pulling his headset to one side as he looked beyond her to Ramsey.
"Daniel, Wes, this is Mister Ramsey O'Keefe."
Ram nodded absently, his gaze on the magnificent view beyond the glass.
"And believe it or not, he's never seen a plane."
Both men looked at each other, then their guest.
"I know, crazy, isn't it? How about explaining a little to him?"
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"Sure thing, Miss H." Daniel gestured for Ramsey to come closer.
"I'll leave you fellas to this . . . stuff," she said, waving at the mess of dials and switches before turning to leave. The plane hit an air pocket, and she jolted into Ramsey just as he was entering the cockpit.
Straddling the threshold, he caught her about the waist with one arm, steadying her, and Penny's gaze flew to his.
In that brief instant, in the one inescapable swift press of his hard body to hers, he consumed her, his dark eyes probing, reaching inside her chest and squeezing on her heart, his very presence fracturing the shield she'd taken years to perfect. He made her think of warm hands sliding over wet skin, thick soul-stripping kisses and the pleasurable surge of hard slick masculine flesh that had been only a faded empty dream til now. Her insides simmered, hot and dampening, and she dreamed of more.
And Ramsey felt the steaming rush down to his boot heels, searching her liquid-green eyes for some sign she was experiencing the same stirring heat as he. For the space of breath he saw her, only her, exquisitely fragile, alluring, and unspeakably needy and it weakened him, unmaned him, an ache like he'd never known afore tearing through him so roughly he felt his bones would snap. His lungs tightened. Her fingers flexed on his coat sleeve, and he tenderly brushed the red strands fanning her cheek, smoothing them behind her ear.
The too intimate gesture jerked her senses back to the interior of the cockpit. "Excuse me," came laced with impatience and Ram immediately lowered his arm and backed up, allowing her to pass. He stared after her for a moment, then turned his attention to the ship's captain.
But not before Daniel stole a covert glance at Wes. Both men couldn't help but notice that exchange; it practically left tracks.
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Chapter 9
Penny slipped around the partition separating the galley from the cockpit door and sagged against the cool aluminum cabinets. Her pulse throbbed wildly in her throat, hummed in her ears.
She was actually breathless, she realized, closing her eyes.
Oh God.
She felt stripped, as if he'd torn through her soul, saw her ugly secrets and plucked them out one by one for the world to see. It was reckless to let him affect her like this. Ramsey O'Keefe was a dangerous man, different in ways she couldn't name. It wasn't just that he talked oddly and acted like a child in a toy store, but as if he held some intangible power. Over her.
And she had to take it away. And would. She excelled at that; blocking anything and anyone with the strength to hurt her, to venture near enough to discover a weakness and destroy her. It was why—God forgive her—she'd foolishly asked Tess to risk her career. And her life.
Exhaling slowly, Penny rolled around, flipping her hair back over her shoulder as she opened a refrigerated compartment and took out a diet soda. His deep resonant voice filtered to the small alcove outside the cockpit when he asked how the
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air remained cool. Right out of the dark ages, she thought again, popping the top and draining half of the soda before pressing the cool can to her warm cheek. It didn't help.
Moving to a seat, she dropped into the soft cushion and tried to relax while slowly finishing off the soda. She stared at her hand wrapped tightly around the white aluminum, recalling the brief press of his rock-hard body, still imprinted against hers. And the ridiculous pleasure it gave her. For an unguarded moment the woman in her relished the sweet unexpected burst of passion they'd shared and imagined his kiss, warm and slow and lushly wet. Ramsey didn
't seem like a man who'd hurry through anything, if given the chance. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been realty kissed, except by another actor before a loaded camera, with eighty people watching to see if she got it right.
She cursed Ramsey O'Keefe for making her realize it was too vague and pitifully uneventful to matter. Damn. Her tapered fingers slowly crushed the container, the can's hollow grind scraping against her taut nerves. She pitched it across the aircraft, missing the waste bin.
Damn, damn, damn.
Even if she'd invited him along, she would stay clear of him.
Rummaging in the bottom of her handbag for a rubber band and brush, Penny swiftly braided her hair high on her crown. Who did this guy think he was anyway, making her feel as if she had something to hide.
Don't you? a little voice said.
Penny jammed her brush back into her already crammed purse.
"I simply enjoy my privacy, that's all," she said aloud. You 're lying.
"I'm not!"
Then why did you invite him when you want privacy so badly? Why, when he makes you think about what you've missed?
Penny covered her ears.
Finding out it's not such a nice little world you've built, aren't you?
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"Oh, shut-up!"
"Is this a frequent affliction, lass?" came softly, amused and as deep as the sea.
Penny's head snapped up, her hands falling to her lap. He was leaning against the galley wall, arms folded over his chest, a teasing smile on his lips. It annoyed the hell out of her. "Had your fill of modern technology, Mister O' Keefe?'' She waved toward the cockpit
His brows furrowed, just noticing she avoided answering any question remotely concerning herself. "Captain Fanelli tells me this ship is yours." The good captain had imparted a great many facts, God love him.
"It is." She didn't care for the way he was staring. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"With women of wealth? Nay." His smiled broadened to a grin. "I've conversed with a few."
Conversed, my ass, she thought, snidely.
He straightened, moving toward her, and Penny's gaze unwillingly dropped to the rolling gait of his hips, those long powerful legs adjusting so easily to the plane's sudden shake through turbulents.
"I once knew a woman who owned an entire fleet, but—"
Her gaze jerked up, eyes sharp and narrowed. ' 'But what?'' she prodded, yet had the distinct feeling he was laughing at her.
"The lady reveled in her power, delighted in the comforts her coin provided."
She relaxed back and crossed her legs. "And you're implying?''
Ramsey marveled at her cool delivery. " 'Tis clear that not even this magnificent flying ship brings you a farthing's worth of pleasure."
"This flying ship gets me where I want with the least amount of trouble. And that's all I need."
"Is it, lass? I wonder." He leaned down to adjust the twisted collar of her blouse. "What would truly bring you pleasure, Mistress Penelope Hamilton?" His warm fingers lingered at her nape.
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Penny stayed perfectly still. "Back off, Mister O'Keefe," she said tightly, resisting the ridiculous urge to nuzzle his callused palm.
Ram's features softened with understanding as he let his hand slowly drop. "I frighten you."
"Believe what you w—"
"Why is that, do you think?" he went on as if she hadn't spoken, his dark eyes briefly sketching her features. "I vow this day to see no harm befalls you, Mistress Hamilton."
The husky timber of his voice made her skin prickle with a gentle tingling and she had the sudden image of clashing broad swords, silver knights, and champions of the heart. Could you live in my dreams, chase away the demons? If only he could, she thought fleetingly, then immediately crushed the childish fantasy, disliking what this man did to her carefully guarded emotions, her thoughts, and heaven help her, the sensations she believed—hoped—were dead.
"Find a seat, you two," Daniel's voice blared over the speaker. ' 'And buckle up.'
He gazed into those feline-green eyes for a moment, then made to return to his former seat. "Mister O'Keefe?"
Ramsey turned to see her gesture to the space beside her. He smiled, and her heart did another one of those peculiar flips,
'As much as I'd enjoy the pleasure of your company, lass.'' He plucked at the folds of his shirt. ' 'I reek of the sea and fear my continued presence would offend you greatly."
Penny nodded as he settled on the opposite side of the craft. For the first time she noticed he was badly in need of a shave and some fresh clothes. She could kick herself for being so insensitive to the barest humane comforts. She had, after all, asked him to join her.
Why, the little voice asked. Why?
''How should I know," she hissed and Ramsey glanced over, amused. Penny flushed, looking away.
Tempting fate? the voice needled. Perhaps you're looking for—Nothing! Not a damn thing, and especially not in Lancelot O'Keefe. Bringing him along was stupid, and she struggled to
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remember why she didn't have friends or lovers. Why she had to keep her distance.
' 'Final approach, Ramsey,'' came over the intercom. ' 'Look out to your left."
The lady had the most peculiar habit of talking to the furniture, Ram thought with a grin, pleased he knew what Captain Fanelli meant. Focusing on the fluffy white moisture rising above them, he fingered the list of books the young captain recommended he read on the subject of flight and aircrafts. Knowledge was power, Ram knew, feeling the ship's descent through the clouds. The engine's hum turned to a whine as it had when they ascended, and Ramsey watched the land materialize below. He tried to absorb it all; the jagged white coastline, the roofs of shops and homes with small very blue lakes aside them, all crowded together around the—what had Fanelli called it? The airport, aye. The closer they came to the earth, the more apprehension Ram experienced. Fanelli assured him 'twas safe, this docking of the ship, yet he couldn't control the fear toying with his pulse. The ground rose up to greet them and the abrupt jolt made him suck in his breath. Wing flaps shifted like bird feathers, the massive engines screaming like a wounded eagle in their effort to stop. The bird ship—nay, the airplane, rolled for several hundred feet, turning slightly afore all was still. Only then did he release the air captured in his lungs.
"Welcome to sunny Florida, Ramsey," the pilot drawled over the intercom. "Ninety-two degrees in the shade."
Ramsey glanced at Mistress Hamilton, but she was already out of her seat and moving toward the door. And Ramsey did not mistake the frigid temperature surrounding her now.
' 'Allow me,'' Wes said, popping open the seal, then lowering the staircase as the familiar Rolls sped across the asphalt toward them. Miss H. fidgeted impatiently as the hydraulics took their time. "The usually unflappable actress actually looked a little flustered, Wes marveled as she flew down the steps.
Ramsey released the harness and left his chair, his hand extended to Wes. " Twas an experience I shant soon forget, lad. My thanks."
Wes grinned, shaking his hand vigorously. He liked this guy.
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Daniel emerged from the cockpit, smiling. "Leaving us so soon?"
"Aye. I suppose." In truth Ram didn't know what he'd do now and looked outside. A silver-blue carriage stopped afore Mistress Hamilton, the shiny door flinging open. A tall fair-haired man stepped out and every muscle in Ram's body clenched as she threw herself into his open arms, kissing the fellow soundly. A spurt of jealousy tore through him and he gave the tender scene his back,
"Tell me, Captain," Ram said in a tight voice. "How does one moor this vessel?"
Hugging Anthony, Penny darted a look over his shoulder to the jet, thankful Mister O'Keefe remained within the shadowed interior. "I missed you, Tony," she whispered, then stepped back.
&n
bsp; It was only two weeks, he thought, his blues eyes inspecting her from head to toe. "You've lost weight, my dear."
"And you're going gray," she returned, then twisted toward the driver as the automatic window lowered on a hum. ' 'Hi, Hank. How's everything?"
Hank smiled brightly, then glared at Wainright. "He's got to be the worst backseat driver in reported history!"
"You exceeded the speed limit three times!" Anthony blasted.
"Hey! We're here, aren't we?"
"Barely."
"For Pete's sake, you two are like bullies in a play yard," Penny said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
Hank opened the door and climbed out, muttering something about luggage as he stomped off.
Penny immediately turned to Anthony. "What have you heard?"
Anthony stared into those wide hopeful eyes and hated to break her heart. ' They've called off the search. Permanently.''
She gasped. "Why? I paid for more rescue teams and—"
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"They have a witness, Penelope, a protected witness who says he saw her jump off the Nassau Queen."
"That's the same news as before and—"
Anthony pressed a finger to her lips, wrapping an arm around her waist. His voice was low and unspeakably sad. "He said she was carried away by a shark."
"Dear God." Tears glistened her eyes, and she hid her face in his shirt front. She couldn't cry, her tears spent days ago. Now it was simply the heartache of the truth sinking in. A shark. It was too horrible to imagine and a long moment passed before she said, "It's my fault, Tony. Mine!" She jerked on his lapels. "If I hadn't been such a coward—"
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