Paris or Bust!

by Kate Hoffmann

  A single smoldering look, which at the moment, was consuming her, making her a little sweaty, a little tingly, a little dizzy even, so she put her hands on his arms for balance.

  He stared down at them, then looked at her.

  Oh my, he had hard muscle beneath his shirt. Her fingers squeezed, testing, her knees quivering again when nothing gave.

  “Kylie…”

  Fascinated, utterly unable to help herself, she squeezed him again. “Yeah?”

  “You’re…touching me.”

  She was. She couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I like it,” he said in a voice that sounded a little ragged. He gripped her when she might have pulled away. “I like it a lot.”

  Suddenly her entire body forgot its own pledge. It was humming, craving, yearning, and when she looked up into Wade’s face, his mouth slowly curved into a wry smile.

  “Say the word,” he said huskily, with one more trace of the pad of his thumb over her mouth. “Just say the word and I’ll touch you back. I’ll be quite happy to touch you back, Kylie.”

  She almost went for it. She certainly, suddenly, desperately, wanted to. But she just realized something else…Wade stood there, looking at her patiently. He understood her enough to know she required patience. Buckets of it.

  And that, she decided, was the worst part of the morning. Not the reporters, or the pictures they’d almost gotten. Not her grandmother looking for a date amongst the clients.

  But Wade knowing her so well.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  K YLIE WENT BACK into the lobby, with Wade not far behind. He had a flight-she knew because once again she’d peeked-and would be gone the rest of the day on a charter to Santa Barbara.

  Good.

  She needed the rest of the day to recover from the feel of his hands on her body. In less than two minutes he’d dissipated most of the stress tension in her neck, replacing it with a different sort of tension altogether.

  One that wouldn’t be easily assuaged by working on an airplane engine.

  When she stepped into the lobby, Kylie automatically braced herself for the worst. Her mother had probably single-handedly destroyed the phone system again, or somehow managed to break down dispatch.

  “Honey!” Daisy called, waving her over. “I just reheated your stress-relieving tea, come and get it.” She held out the mug, then swept a stray strand of hair off her daughter’s face. “You seem a little pale,” she murmured. “What’s the matter?”

  Nothing, except every hormone she had was on full alert. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay, but drink your tea, you need some color in your cheeks.” She patted her hair. “I was thinking about going a shade lighter to celebrate. What do you think?”

  “I’m going to my office.”

  “But what about my hair? I don’t want to look too old.”

  Kylie looked at the woman who wasn’t quite fifty and looked two decades younger. “Mom, you look like my only slightly older sister.”

  “Oh, honey. Really?”

  “Really.”

  Daisy grinned. “You’re such a good daughter. Now about you…I don’t suppose you have a hairbrush and lipstick lurking under all that mess on your desk? Because now might be a good time to find them.”

  That “mess” was their livelihood. “Yeah, right, mom. Lipstick on my desk. Funny stuff.” Kylie went to her office. In the center of her desk sat a little pot of daisies. There was also a little sack lunch with a sticky note attached that said “eat me.”

  Her mother.

  And her heart sighed. You’re a good daughter, her mother always said, but suddenly Kylie saw the flip side. “You’re a good mother, too,” she whispered in the empty room.

  But she still didn’t look for a hairbrush or lipstick.

  WADE FOUND IT amusing how Kylie took all the press over the next few weeks. She glowered, scowled and grumbled her way through the days when it came to anything contest related, and yet seemed to thrive on running the airport. Watching her in charge-flying, wrenching, all of it, turned him on.

  But then Family Voyager magazine wanted a spread in their next issue with all the nominated mothers and their children. Kylie appeared to look forward to that about as much as one would a root canal. On impacted molars. Without drugs.

  Wade hadn’t mentioned his offer to buy the airport, and knew that even though she was up against the wall financially, she wouldn’t bring it up, either.

  But oddly enough, that was okay, because he was distracted with something else, something disturbing.

  He wanted Kylie more than he wanted the airport.

  They were night and day, he and Kylie. He knew that, and yet they shared so much. They were both bullheaded, and far more likely to walk into a fight rather than away from one.

  They also had both worked hard for their dreams, and had a passion for flying.

  And they both figured love would never play a serious part in their lives.

  He had a bad feeling he was wrong there, and was man enough to admit it. But he was also man enough to let Kylie figure it out for herself.

  With his help, of course.

  For two weeks he’d been running into her as often as possible, timing their entrance into the maintenance hangar down to the second, so that he could brush a hand low on her spine as he held the door open for her. Or squeeze past her in the lobby, making sure to touch her hip, to flick the bill of that baseball cap she wore in favor of doing something with the short mop of hair he so loved.

  It worked, too, he could tell because her breath would catch, or she’d stare at him wide-eyed, a little bewildered, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with him.

  Which made them just about even, as he didn’t know what to do with her, either. Correction-he knew exactly what he wanted to do with her, which was toss her in his bed and follow her down to have his merry way with her hot little bod.

  Beyond that, he had a sinking idea he knew what else he wanted…and since it involved more than he’d ever wanted before, he decided to dance around that for a while and concentrate on the lust aspect.

  And getting her into his bed.

  On the day of the scheduled magazine photo shoot for Kylie and Daisy, he found Kylie in front of the vending machine in the deserted mechanics office. She had her hands on her hips and a frown on her pretty face. Before he could say a word, she kicked the machine.

  A candy bar fell out. “Now that’s more like it,” she muttered, and tore into the chocolate.

  “Skip breakfast again?” he asked mildly, smiling when she whirled to look at him. “I should tell you, that snarl on your face makes me want to shove you up against that wall and kiss it away.”

  She turned her attention back to the machine. “I’d do just about anything for that Babe Ruth bar in there.”

  He nearly swallowed his tongue. “Anything?”

  “Maybe even give you that kiss of my own free will.”

  For that he’d do a lot more than buy her a candy bar, but when he pulled change out of his pocket, she snickered. “Oh, like that’s going to work.”

  He didn’t care if he had to tear apart the entire vending machine with his bare hands, he was going to get her that candy bar, and she was going to give him the promised kiss. He was already hard just thinking about it. The money dropped in, he pushed the button, and like magic, the requested candy bar came out.

  She stared at him in such utter surprise when he handed it to her, that he nearly grinned. “Now about that kiss,” he murmured, stepping close.

  With a narrow little laugh, she backed up a step, hit the back of her knees on a low table in front of the couch, and sat down on it hard. “But…that machine never works, not without a well-placed kick and three times too much money.”

  “So you were lying about the kiss?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she tipped her head back to look up at him. “I never lie.”

  “Didn’t think so.” Sinking to his knees before her, he to
ok her hands and wrapped them around his neck and said, “Give me your best shot then.”

  She tried to tug her hands free, but he held them in place. “Are you welshing on your promise?” he asked.

  Her mouth was only inches from his, and it was open. Most likely with shock. Or maybe just plain irritation. But her lips were bare and full, and since her tongue darted out to lick them, also wet. “Fine,” she said. She squeezed her eyes tight, puckered up, leaned in a little bit…and waited.

  And waited.

  Finally her eyes flew open. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded.

  “You promised to kiss me.”

  Irritation definitely swam in those eyes now, and once again she leaned forward, puckered tight as a drum. But this time her mouth touched his, even if it was the light, chaste kiss of a friendly cousin.

  When she pulled back, she smiled. “Duty complete.”

  “Duty?” He laughed. “You afraid of a simple kiss, Kylie?”

  She looked away. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, fine!” She yanked her hands back. “But kissing you is never simple. It makes me…”

  “What?” He put his hands on her hips, squeezing gently. “It makes you what?”

  “It makes me…” The expression on her face assured him she was holding back.

  Big surprise there.

  But then the radio at her hip squawked. Daisy’s voice broke the mood. “Kylie Birmingham, you’re behind schedule. Get your tush up here and get dressed and spritzed up for the photo shoot.”

  Kylie leaned her head back and studied the ceiling. “You know everyone at the airport can hear her talk to me like that,” she said to Wade.

  “There’s nothing wrong with her loving you.”

  “Yeah.” With the sigh of someone holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, she moved away.

  “Going to get dressed and spritzed up?”

  “Suppose so.”

  He eyed her baseball cap and coveralls. “Do you even know how to do that?”

  “Shut up, McKinnon. What?” she said when he surged to his feet and stopped her with a hand to her wrist.

  “For the record?” he said quietly. “You scare me, too.”

  KYLIE WENT to her office, and everyone waiting there had a bomb to drop. Daisy held up a fitted, flowery sundress. Lou held up a piece of mail and looked guilty and since the dress gave Kylie hives, she addressed her grandma first. “What have you done now?”

  Lou smiled a bit guiltily. “Uh…maybe you’re too busy to go over this.”

  “Spill.”

  “You’re being audited.”

  “Because?”

  “Because your number was up? I don’t know.”

  Kylie closed her eyes, but her mother shook her, then shoved the dress in her hands. “Get this on. We’ll deal with the audit after the photo shoot.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Lou said. “Wade said he’d take care of it.”

  “Wade?” Kylie asked.

  “Turns out he’s got an ex-girlfriend who works high up in the IRS. In fact, he’s probably talking to her right now.”

  Why did that make her more grumpy? With a sigh, she started to strip. “Come near me with that thing,” she warned her mother as she hefted a curling iron, “and I’ll have to get mean.”

  Daisy just shook her head, then came after her anyway.

  Lou unzipped her makeup case, which was the size of a bowling ball bag.

  “Oh, no,” Kylie said with a laugh, backing up. “No way.”

  “Yes, way. You look like death warmed over. At least use blush.” Lou pulled out a bright red blush powder with a brush the size of Kylie’s head.

  “Mom,” Kylie said, panicked.

  Daisy sighed again. “Oh, leave the girl alone,” and then it was Lou’s turn to sigh.

  “Fine. But don’t complain to me when you look horrid in the photos.” She proceeded to put two big red circles on her own cheeks. Then she pulled out a siren-red lipstick, carefully and thoroughly lining her lips before kissing the air and smiling proudly. “See? I look great. You should really let me help you.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Lou sniffed.

  Kylie could deal with Lou’s attitude, and she’d deal with Daisy’s, too. She could deal with shoving herself into a long, thin, spaghetti-strapped sundress, and even with applying a little mascara. She could deal with being overworked and underpaid, and she could deal with an audit.

  But when she was all done dolling herself up, when she’d walked out of her office, when Wade had turned toward her, dropping his jaw and the file he held, she realized the one thing she couldn’t deal with.

  The way he looked at her as though she was pretty. As though she was hot.

  Her knees wobbled, infuriating her. Yep, she could deal with just about anything…except him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  W ADE STOOD in the lobby, stunned into silence by the vision heading toward him. She wore a long, flowery sundress that hugged her curves and a tough-girl grimace on her lips. Attitude screamed with every swing of her hips. Her eyes blared irritation and impatience, and when they landed on him, uncertainty was added to the mix. Her lips shined with some light glossy color he wanted to eat right off, her hair lay gently around her face, framing the bite-me expression he’d come to count on.

  And that body…he’d never really realized how mouthwatering it was.

  He wanted to devour her.

  An equally made-up Daisy followed Kylie toward where the magazine photographers had set up at the far end of the lobby. Being a slow business day, with no scheduled incoming flights, every employee in the place stood around, ogling their boss.

  Wade understood, because he stood there, too, his own news completely forgotten, watching the photographer try to coax a natural smile out of Kylie. She was as stiff as a board, and though he doubted anyone else saw past her orneriness, he did. She felt uncomfortable in the limelight, and probably would have given her last penny to get out of it.

  Feeling an unexpected surge of sympathy, he moved in close. “Excuse me,” he said, pushing his way through. “Got a message for Kylie. Excuse me.”

  She visibly braced herself, most likely waiting for a comment on her looks, but she was going to be disappointed. He didn’t need the makeup and fancy clothes to see that she was the sexiest, most hauntingly beautiful, most amazing woman he’d ever met. Undoubtedly, he could see the real Kylie far better in her everyday clothes, but this was a nice change. Real nice. “I have something that just might put a genuine smile on your face,” he said in her ear.

  “Today nothing could put a real smile on my face.”

  He let his lips brush the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his entire body tightening when she shivered. “Really?” he wondered. “How about the audit is indefinitely postponed?”

  Pulling back, she narrowed her eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Where’s my smile?”

  “You probably agreed to sleep with her.”

  He lifted a brow. “Would that bother you?”

  “Not in the least.”

  He just looked at her, and she let out a snort. “Okay, yes, it’d bother me. Happy?”

  “Oh yeah.” He stroked her jaw. “But it was just a phone call, Kylie.” He stepped back just as she let out the genuine smile he’d wanted to see, and the photographer snapped the shutter.

  Wade leaned in one more time. “And all you have to do for me in return? Smile like that. At me.”

  Then he wisely vanished before she could smack him.

  TWO NIGHTS LATER Kylie was alone, once again buried in engine work on a customer’s plane. She stood on a ladder, stretched out, trying to reach a particularly unreachable bolt.

  Behind her, the radio was turned up as high as it could go so she couldn’t think for a change.

  Normally this would fulfill her, as she loved nothing more than a late night by herself buried in an airplane.r />
  But normal no longer applied to her life. She’d had to charge the fuel for their tanks this morning, because she hadn’t had enough money in the accounts to cover the purchase. The new client had never materialized, and though she had a lead on two more, if they didn’t call soon, it might be too late.

  It was entirely possible she was going to have to sell the airport. That burned. But she finally had to admit her love for the place wasn’t enough. It needed more than she could give.

  Wade could give it. She’d read his proposal, she knew what he planned. With his marketing savvy and fancy connections, he’d have this place hopping in no time.

  Damn him.

  She didn’t begrudge him his success, she just wanted it for herself, too. Did that make her a bad person? Probably.

  He hadn’t kissed her again.

  Her fault. She didn’t want more kisses. Hell, she could hardly concentrate now with the power of the last one still messing with her head.

  Damn it, she couldn’t reach the bolt. Wriggling just to the point of no return on the ladder, she realized she had the wrong size wrench. Of course she did.

  Suddenly the right size appeared at her hip, extended to her by no other than the tall, dark, enigmatic man she’d been thinking about.

  “Hey.” He shot her a crooked grin that destroyed her from the inside out. “Need any help?”

  Oh, boy. Loaded question. Yes, she needed help easing the tension strung tight inside her. Yes, he could ease that tension with just a touch, a kiss. And no, she wouldn’t let him. “I’m fine.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you make everything so damn difficult. Why can’t you admit, just once in a while, it’s okay to lean on someone?”

  “I don’t need-”

  “I know.” He tossed up his hands, then shoved his hands through his short, spiky hair. “You don’t need anyone. Well, I think that’s stupid.”

  She blinked. “Are you calling me stupid?”

  He stared at her. “How can you be so smart, driven and beautiful, and yet so absolutely pig-headed at the same time?”