A delicious lassitude swept over her as his embrace tightened. She allowed herself to lean against him.
"Yes, Kelly." That honeyed voice of his filled her with sweet fire."Give in to me." His hands slid down her spine. He cupped her buttocks, fingers insistent upon her, hot and demanding, granting her no quarter. "I won't let you fall."
His mouth covered hers and she gasped at the first intrusion of his tongue sweeping past her lips, invading her mouth. She felt it in her breasts, in the tensed muscles of her thighs, in the sudden pulsing of her very core. The rush of sensation was so violent, so intense, that her knees buckled and, true to his word, his strength kept her standing.
He tasted of brandy and she eagerly closed her lips around his tongue, allowing herself the exquisite pleasure of drawing deeply upon it until he gasped violently. The warmth of his breath, the delicious nip of his teeth, the sweep of his tongue as he tasted every crevice, every hidden secret spot.
She was losing her mind. She knew it yet did not care. This moment, these feelings flaring to life within her, were worth all that came before--and all that may come after.
His hands still cupped her buttocks as he expertly maneuvered her until her back was pressed against the wall, the wood cool against her shoulders and spine. She needed that wall, needed to find something sturdy and unyielding in a world that was shifting crazily beneath her feet...
His fingers moved down to the tops of her thighs and she heard the slither of silk as he inched her skirt up higher and higher. The air of the cabin was cool against her heated skin but the contrast only heightened the feeling of being consumed by a fever she couldn't control.
He played with the lacy edge of her garter belt, his palm pressed flat and warm against her bare stomach and she couldn't withhold the tremor of pure desire that rippled through her.
"That's it," he whispered for her ears alone. "Give over to me, Kelly." His fingers splayed low across her belly, then cupped her heat, her moistness. "Show me. Let me know what I do to you..."
She was drenched in sensation. The low vibration of the jet engines. The smell of spice and brandy. The fine Egyptian cotton of his shirt as her fingers trembled at the ivory buttons. The deep mesmerizing emerald of his eyes as her body opened for him, begged for him, urged his fingers toward the fiery honeyed center that yearned for him.
A thousand impressions rushed in at her. Too soon...too fast…Oh, dear God, too good to be borne...
She stopped thinking, stopped worrying, stopped wondering if what she was doing was wise or smart or totally mad.
It didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered except the way he made her feel.
The steady hum of the jet's engines matched the beat of her heart as she opened his shirt and bared his chest. His skin was warm, tanned a burnished gold by the sun and her eye followed the furring of dark curls that led down toward his waistband and beyond.
How odd that she, a woman who prided herself on control, had none at all when it came to this man.
And yet it felt so right, so inevitable, to be in his arms, as if this was the moment the rest of her life had been leading her toward.
The plane hit an air pocket and dipped suddenly, a sharp rollercoaster drop that brought them even closer.
She laughed softly against his mouth. "Now you know how you make me feel, Max. From the first moment..."
The thrusting of his hips was deliberate and almost paganly sensual and she gasped as a flame of fire shot downward from her belly.
"I know," he said, voice low and thrilling, "and I can do more."
She ran her hands over the swelling muscles of his chest, his hard male nipples tickling her palms and sending pinpoints of exquisite sensation throughout her body. She was sensitized beyond endurance--her throat, her arms, the curve of her back--there wasn't a part of her that wasn't affected by his nearness.
"I wish we were somewhere else," she whispered as he kissed his way down her throat. "I wish--"
"A bed." His hands eased her opened dress from her shoulders."And time to enjoy."
"Yes." They had privacy there in the drawing room and they had time before landing on Tranquility Island, but her hidden romantic heart had conjured up visions of a wide and welcoming bed, of satin quilts and big down pillows and a window overlooking a garden.
To Max's everlasting credit, he didn't laugh at her or belittle her fantasies as her husband before him had done so many times.
Instead he cupped her face gently--with hands so large that had she any sense at all remaining she would be terrified--and looked into her eyes.
"I can give you those things," he said as a thrill of inevitability raced up her spine. "All of them, Kelly."
Sweeping her up into his arms, he kicked open a door at the far end of the room and she found herself staring at her fantasy come to life.
He carried her into the room as if she weighed no more than the dark blue quilt tossed casually across the huge bed.
There was really no reason why she should be surprised. From the first moment they met, he'd had the unnerving ability to slip behind her defenses in a way no one had ever managed.
Or ever tried.
It couldn't last--there was no reason to think it possible for this wonder to go on beyond the month they would be together. Maximilian Steel was nothing like her; the world he lived in went far beyond anything she'd ever known--or would ever know.
"But how--I mean, there's no way you could possibly--"
"I didn't," he said, his strong arms tight around her as the plane rode another current of air.
"Coincidence?" Her voice was almost lost in the sense of wonder she felt.
"Kismet." He kicked the door closed behind them. "Or fate or whatever name you want to put to the inevitable."
"It is that, isn't it?" she asked as he strode toward the bed. "From the first moment."
Without breaking their embrace he lowered them both to the bed and she sighed in wonder as the gentle curves of the mattress molded themselves to the curves of her body. The bed was bathed in sunlight, a violent blaze of yellow streaming through the row of windows to either side of them.
"I cannot give you a garden," he said, sliding her dress down her body inch by mind-shattering inch, "but I can at least give you the moon."
There beyond the window an odd daytime moon battled the sun for a piece of the sky; the earth below seemed tiny and inconsequential. Rivers and streams, homes and parks and monuments to mankind's brilliance mattered not at all when seen against the backdrop of the limitless sky.
And it would take a limitless sky to hold the rainbow of emotions tugging at her heart as they faced one another, naked and defenseless, in the uncompromising light.
His eyes glittered emerald and gold and she trembled at the power she had given him over her heart.
"No one but you, Kelly." His words reached her through a delicious fog of desire and anticipation. "And no one ever again."
She knew they could not offer themselves innocent in the ways of love but this experience, this coming together as they streaked beyond the clouds, would belong only to this moment.
Only to them.
"Max?"
"Yes?" The look of vulnerability on his powerful face shattered the last of her defenses.
"We've waited long enough."
She opened her arms to him.
Chapter Seventeen
In a life distinguished only by its lack of achievement, Max felt he must have done something wonderful at least once along the way to deserve the happiness he found in Kelly's arms that afternoon.
Some act of kindness, some long-forgotten act of decency must have been recorded somewhere to account for this extraordinary good fortune.
Beyond the cabin windows the sky slowly began changing from turquoise to the violent orange and crimson of an early winter sunset and those fiery colors were a perfect backdrop for the flames that shot through his body each time he looked at the woman who slept in his arm
s.
Kismet, Steel had called it.
Fate, said Brody.
In a lifetime of failed opportunities how fine it was that he found love in the one world he understood: the sky.
From the first time he'd sat strapped into a seat on a rattletrap transport bound for Nam, he'd known being earthbound was only a slower way to die.
As the metal monster hurtled its way into the sky, he'd known a surge of pure unadulterated joy that nothing in his life to that point even came close to duplicating.
And, up until Kelly Madison stepped into his life, that still held true.
Right now, seven miles above the earth, away from radios and televisions and the chains of gravity and time, he had it all.
The man who had nothing, who wanted nothing and deserved even less, found himself possessed of more heaven than a saint dared to dream of.
The plane and the expensive clothes and high-flown words may belong to Maximilian Steel but the heart he gave to her that afternoon was Brody's and no one else's.
Too bad she'd never know.
He'd waited a lifetime to find love and now the love he found belonged to another man.
#
Ryder paced up and down the length of his own private compartment until he was afraid he'd wear a hole in the fuselage of the jet.
What he wouldn't give for one of Alistair's fancy foreign cigarettes right at that moment.
Anything to give him something to do besides wait.
Max--a loose cannon if there ever was one--was back in the drawing room suite alone with Kelly Madison and it was anyone's guess what was going on.
Actually Ryder had a pretty good idea exactly what was going on and he didn't like it one bit. Not that he had anything against sex, mind you, because he didn't--it was just that sex had a way of weakening even the strongest man's defenses and, at the moment, Max was a man ready to surrender.
Lucky thing Kelly was on the side of the good guys.
The alternative didn't bear contemplation.
Alistair had said don't worry. Take them to Florida and continue full steam ahead on plans for the New Year's Eve party in Rio. That was where Ryder's attention should be focused--not on the extremely private actions of two consenting adults.
Sure he knew that PAX viewed them as pawns on a larger chessboard but PAX had a tendency to look at problems with the dispassionate eye of a computer, forgetting the important fact that people rarely acted in a logical or, for that matter, predictable fashion.
Variables like love and jealousy and greed had a way of knocking even the best computer off-line in the span of a heartbeat. Alistair, of all people, should understand that.
Yes, Kelly Madison and Max Steel were only part of the plan they'd put into motion--the bait necessary to lure a bigger fish into PAX's net.
But put them together, have them functioning as a unit--hell.
Anyway you cut it, it was sure to spell trouble.
He'd been there.
He'd seen firsthand what it was like to be forced to spin lie after lie to a woman who deserved only the truth.
When he met Joanna he'd been recovering from a broken leg and a broken spirit. He'd lost the edge, had his fill of PAX and ugliness and death and wanted to see if he could survive in the real world once again.
Joanna stepped into his life and it was as if he'd found the midnight sun. The secrecy of PAX ran counter to the openness she demanded of him and it wasn't until she joined forces with him one day on the Cornish coast that he understood what love and courage really meant.
Fate had been kind to him and Joanna but he couldn't help but wonder if miracles could happen twice.
They'd better--for everyone's sake--because Ryder was afraid it was going to take a miracle and nothing less to hang a happy ending on this story.
#
Proceed normally.
Viktor had said that last night and it had taken every ounce of dramatic training Sean Ryan had at his disposal to keep from laughing in the man's face.
Normal.
What in the name of all that was holy passed for normal these days? It had been so long since Sean had even a passing acquaintance with normalcy that he'd be damned if he could remember.
But then he was damned anyway you looked at it, wasn't he?
There was very little chance of living one's life in a normal fashion when thugs with more brawn than brains dogged your every move or when transmitters were embedded into your teeth like tiny gold fillings or when men with eyes darker than his soul told you your own daughter was in danger.
The note for Kelly was still in his pocket. Last night had been so bizarre to seem almost surrealistic. Max Steel standing there in the hallway of Madison Dynamics, the plum waiting to be picked by Viktor and his comrades and Sean frozen in place.
If Sean hadn't known better he might even have liked the man despite the way he looked at Kelly, his eyes all hungry and male.
Fine time for a father to decide to act like one.
Where had he been when she was growing up and facing her first sweaty-palmed date?
Where had he been when she married that bastard who'd only proved what Sean had said all along: men couldn't be trusted.
Good questions all.
Good questions without answers.
Last night had ended with a boozy decline into melancholy and still the letter remained in his pocket. This morning he'd been too hung over and guilt-ridden to taxi over to her office and leave the envelope on her desk so he'd nursed himself with hot coffee and aspirin and thought depressing thoughts about face lifts and gravity's power.
He had a luncheon appointment at the Russian Tea Room with Sy Stone, a washed-up director looking to make his comeback on the small screen, and the two of them had been shown to a table so far back it was almost in Minsk.
The director was incensed, threatening to toss a samovar at the maitre d but Sean had managed to cool him off with a vodka rocks and before he knew it, it was nearly two in the afternoon and he still hadn't connected with Kelly.
It occurred to him that this was the perfect time and place--Viktor's goons may be watching him but they certainly hadn't the forethought to tap the phones at the Tea Room so Sean signaled for a phone to be brought to his table while the director was occupied chatting up this year's blonde at one of the prestigious booths up front.
"Kelly Madison, please."
"Sorry, sir, but Ms. Madison isn't available. May I take a message?"
"Is that you, Natalie?"
A pause. "Mrs. Stryker is in a meeting. May I take a message, sir?" the woman's voice repeated.
"Will Ms. Madison be available later?"
"I really can't say, sir."
He replaced the phone, feeling vaguely disturbed. He dared not risk exposure by walking the envelope over to the office himself but there was nothing to stop Sy Stone from doing it, was there?
Across the room one of Viktor's women raised a glass of tea in mock salute and Sean smiled.
If he did nothing else with his poor excuse for a life, he was going to see to it that Kelly didn't pay for the sins of her father.
He was down but he wasn't out.
Not yet.
#
Max awakened her with a kiss as they flew over the Georgia/Florida border.
"About another hour," he said, his breath warm against her ear. "I wanted to give you time to dress."
"I wish we never had to land." She looped her arms around his neck and savored the deeply satisfying sensation of his strong body covering hers. "If I had my way, we'd fly around the world and watch the sun set a hundred times."
He chuckled and pressed a kiss along the side of her neck. "If I had my way..."
His words sent a voluptuous shiver rippling through her and she buried her face against his chest.
How easy it had been between them--yet how profoundly beautiful. Their movements had been simple but there had been nothing simple about the flood of deep emotion those movements unlea
shed.
She felt as if she could soar above the clouds without the plane, powered only by the sheer elation his touch kindled inside her.
"I'm afraid I've compromised my professionalism," she said with a rueful laugh. "This is hardly the way to initiate a teacher-student relationship. You may want to consider another--"
He captured her mouth in a heated kiss.
"Never, Kelly." How serious he sounded. How unlike the self-assured man she'd first met. "You were hired because you were the best in the business. That is still the case."
Relief washed over her like April rain. "I admit I'd wondered about your reasons."
"It is common knowledge that Madison Dynamics is the top of the line."
"Really?"
"Really." He swatted her derriere through the cream-colored Pratesi sheets. "The bathroom is through those doors," he said pointing through a tiny alcove to the right of the bed. "Not a great deal of hot water but enough for necessities."
She sat up, letting the quilt drop away from her torso, glorying in the fact that she had the power to move him with her beauty. "It would be a shame to waste the water on just one person," she said, her tone bland. "Sharing would seem the wisest course of action."
Max rose from the bed, a magnificent statue of a man come to life before her. He held out his hand to her and she swung her legs from the bed with a graceful movement meant to please.
"I love intelligent women," he said, his eyes feasting on her body.
"Yes," she said, glancing down. "So I noticed."
Chapter Eighteen
Max had been right the first time: nothing that happened in the sky was real.
As long as the PAX jet was airborne he and Kelly Madison had a chance at happiness but as that jet circled Tranquility Island he had a fierce desire to grab the controls from the pilot and keep the fantasy aloft just a little longer.
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