A Kiss in the Dark
Page 22
“Well, you thought wrong.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Sedona slid him a last sidelong glance before turning to look out the window. This whole trip was fast becoming a nightmare of huge proportions. It was completely unfair that one of the Membership should be part of her team. She needed to set Ken straight immediately, or they’d have a tough time working together. And the last thing she needed was for Angel to believe they were involved in any way.
She sneaked a look at Angel, and then colored hotly. He was watching her, and the expression in his dark eyes was thoughtful.
* * *
ANGEL WATCHED AS Sedona wrestled her suitcase, laptop and overnight bag through the doorway of her hotel room and then closed the door firmly behind her. He shook his head slightly in bemusement and turned his attention to his own door, directly next to hers.
The woman was a complete contradiction and damned if he could figure out what was up with her. He’d heard the rumors about her, even down on the flight line. Personally, he wasn’t convinced she was some kind of man-hater. She just had a zero-tolerance policy for stupidity. He’d heard she was one of the agency’s best engineers. He’d even read a couple of her technical reports and had to agree. Personally, he believed the malicious whispers about her stemmed from the feelings of inadequacy she engendered in her male counterparts.
He’d seen the way she looked at him when she thought he didn’t notice. He wasn’t conceited, but he recognized female appreciation when he saw it. And Sedona Stewart, despite her acerbic and sometimes mannish manner, had appreciated just about all she could see of him in the scant seconds he had caught her looking.
Normally, that would be all the incentive he’d need to begin a pursuit, but there was something about Sedona that made him hesitate. It had nothing to do with her looks. She was attractive enough, but her cool reserve made him reluctant to explore just how appreciative she might be. He liked his women on the adventurous side, and Sedona didn’t strike him as the daring type.
Stepping inside, he closed the door to his room, noting it had a balcony overlooking an interior courtyard where the pool and hot tub were located. He could hear the shouts and cries of several kids as they splashed in the water. Dumping his bags on top of the bed, he opened the sliding-glass doors to let some fresh air into the room, and paused when he noticed movement on the balcony next to his.
He leaned against the doorjamb just inside the room and watched as Sedona moved over to the railing of her balcony. She had shed the navy blazer she’d worn during the flight, and she was barefoot. Her toenails were painted a glossy shade of cherry-red.
She stretched her arms up over her head and loosely linked her fingers together. Then she arched her back and bent sideways at the waist, first to one side, then the other. The movement pulled the fabric of her modest, button-down shirt taut across her breasts. Angel’s eyebrows went up. Maybe not so mannish, after all.
Stepping carefully back into the room, he quietly pulled the drapes closed, reluctant to disturb her. But even with the curtains drawn, he couldn’t get the image of those brightly painted toes out of his head. Not that he had a foot fetish; they just weren’t what he’d expect to see on her. They intrigued him. Made him wonder what other feminine attributes she kept hidden from the rest of the world.
They’d agreed to meet downstairs in the lobby for dinner, but that was still several hours away. If he hurried, he could head over to the hotel gym for a quick workout before he had to meet Sedona. He’d make a few phone calls first, to let his commanding officer and the guys at the naval air station know he’d arrived, and to confirm they’d be at the hangar to begin inspecting the grounded jets first thing in the morning.
It felt good to be back in California. He’d been stationed at Lemoore Naval Air Station early on in his career. He’d done his initial flight training there in an F-14 Tomcat. He hadn’t thought anything could be more thrilling than flying that fighter jet, until he’d climbed into the cockpit of a Coyote to conduct test flights on behalf of the navy. Then he’d been deployed aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln, an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf, and life was just about as perfect as it could get.
During the ten months he’d been aboard the carrier, he’d flown more than sixty sorties from her deck in support of the war against terrorism, and he’d accomplished each one flawlessly. At least, he amended, until that last one. Yep, that one had been the last straw for his commanding officer, who had seen to it Angel was taken out of combat flight.
He tried hard not to be bitter that they’d shipped him to a manufacturing plant on the East Coast to perform test flights. He knew he was lucky they hadn’t busted him back down to lieutenant. At least they hadn’t completely clipped his wings.
When they’d first assigned him to Aerospace International’s facility, nearly eighteen months earlier, it was to be a three-year stint. Angel knew he’d been given the assignment as a sort of reward. Extended shore-based assignments were highly sought after by guys who had spent months at sea. It was an opportunity to attend school, to strengthen family bonds and to recharge.
Angel didn’t need any of that.
He’d already graduated from the Navy War College, he had neither wife nor kids, and the only thing that recharged his engines was combat flight. So when he’d been deployed to the navy carrier after just six months of performing test flights, he’d been thrilled. Not that conducting test flights was a bad gig; there was a certain thrill in taking a jet on its maiden voyage into the skies. He just didn’t want to do it for the rest of his career.
But according to his commanding officer, after the stunt he’d pulled during his last sortie, that’s just what would happen if he didn’t straighten up and fly right—literally. So he’d sucked it up and resigned himself to completing his shore assignment, with the knowledge that it would only be for another eighteen months, and then he’d be back aboard a carrier.
Close to thirty minutes later, he finally pushed open the doors of the gym, and stopped dead in his tracks, riveted. The workout room was empty except for one other person.
Angel’s brain almost shut down at the sight.
It was a woman, standing with her back to him. Well…sort of. She was bent over at the waist, legs slightly apart as she gently bounced the palms of her hands against the floor. She wore a pair of tight biking-style shorts, and Angel was transfixed by the sight of her perfect rear, displayed to full advantage by her position. It was lusciously heart-shaped, and he wondered rather dazedly how those cheeks would feel in his hands. She wore some kind of sports bra, and above the waistband of her shorts, her skin was smooth and golden. He couldn’t see her face, but through the inverted V of her splayed thighs, her breasts bounced enticingly with each move she made.
Every cell in his body urged him to walk up behind her, grasp her hips and press himself against the feminine softness she so blatantly presented to him. Stifling a groan, he held his towel low in front of himself and moved swiftly to the opposite side of the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an instant physical reaction to a woman, but yep, there it was.
He scanned the equipment in the room and settled on the treadmill. It was the only piece of machinery that faced the wall, away from the temptress. He decided a quick five-mile run would take his mind off his libido and allow him to warm up before he tackled the weights. He had just settled into a nice stride when he realized there was a mirror on the wall beside him, providing him an unobstructed view of the woman. She was on the floor now, legs splayed wide as she bent forward, head down, and grasped her toes.
His eyes narrowed.
Her auburn hair was pulled back in a thick, glossy braid. When she straightened, she raised her arms above her head and stretched her spine before bending low over the other extended leg.
Angel very nearly fell off the treadmill. As it was, he lost his smooth stride and had to grasp the handles of the machine and do a quick two-step to regain his balance
.
Goddamn. It couldn’t be. Could it? But when she raised herself upward again and twisted in his direction, her eyes met his in the mirror. She froze, arms stretched over her head, her supple breasts thrust forward beneath the stretchy material of her top.
It was Sedona Stewart.
If the expression of horror on her face was anything to go by, she was just as shocked to see him. Angel swiftly recovered his composure and even managed to give her a benignly polite smile, as if he hadn’t just been thinking about thrusting into her, while cradling her sweetly curved backside in the palms of his hands.
In the mirror, he saw her blush and was momentarily transfixed. The flush of color spread slowly downward, until it seemed her entire body was rosy. She gave him a brief nod and scrambled to her feet.
Angel stared. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t an expert where women were concerned, but he prided himself on having a good eye. But holy mother of God, who would have ever guessed that hidden beneath her conservative business attire was a body like that? It was better suited to pole dancing than sitting behind a desk.
As he watched, she snatched up a towel and a bottle of water she’d left on the floor. Damn. She was going to bolt. She hesitated, her hand on the door, before she looked over at him.
“So…I’ll see you at seven o’clock?”
His breath was coming a little unevenly. He told himself it was from his exertions on the treadmill. “Yes, but I hope you’re not leaving on my account.”
She turned even rosier, if that was possible. “No,” she said quickly, and Angel knew she was lying. “I’m—I’m done with my workout. I was just cooling down when you came in. So…I guess I’ll see you later.”
As if unable to help herself, her eyes slid down the length of his body. Angel tightened beneath that swift scrutiny. Her eyes flew back to his, and his gaze was drawn irresistibly to her mouth when she ran her tongue over her lips. And in the brief instant before she turned away, he knew.
She wanted him.
But before he could say anything more to her, she yanked the door open and was gone.
Angel was hardly aware of the treadmill churning beneath him. His body was operating on autopilot, his long strides easily keeping pace with the machine. But his mind was spinning. He still couldn’t comprehend that beneath the all-business exterior Sedona presented to the world was a lush, tantalizingly feminine woman.
Christ, hers was the kind of body men fantasized about. He felt a little dazed, not only by her physical attributes, but his own reaction to them. He was still slightly aroused, and that was just from looking at her.
He gave a huff of disbelieving laughter. Had he really thought she held no appeal for him? He recalled the habit she had of moistening her lips with her tongue. He wondered if she was even aware she did it, or that when she did, it drew one’s eye to the ripe fullness of her lips. He wondered how they would feel beneath his own.
He was sweating.
Glancing down at the display on the treadmill, he realized he was already halfway through his five miles. He felt as if he hadn’t even expended himself. He was vitalized, charged with a new energy. He recognized it as keen anticipation.
It was the same way he felt when he climbed into the cockpit of his fighter jet to complete a combat mission—the hot, pounding adrenaline of excitement, the sheer rush of going into the unknown. It was the thrill of the hunt, of finding his target and nailing it. Of coming in fast and low, dropping his payload and streaking away before the object ever knew what hit them.
It was how he felt now, thinking about Sedona Stewart.
He wanted her.
Angel wondered if two weeks would be enough time to entice the prickly, straitlaced Sedona Stewart into his bed, then decided it had to be.
He’d never failed a mission before, and he wasn’t about to start now.
5
SEDONA GLANCED AT her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was three minutes past seven and she’d been pacing her hotel room for a quarter of an hour. Should she knock on Angel’s door? Wait for him to knock on hers? Stand outside in the corridor and cough discreetly until he heard her?
She wished for the first time in her life that her experience with men went beyond competing with them for promotions. Establishing personal relationships with them had never seemed all that important before.
From the time she’d been a young teenager with an uncanny aptitude for math and sciences, her life had revolved around her education and subsequent career. Even now, she could hear her father’s voice. If you want to succeed in this world, you have to be willing to sacrifice. Your looks may get you the job, but your brains will get you to the top. You have to be tough to make it in a man’s world.
She knew he’d only had her best interests in mind. A successful man, he believed his oldest daughter should demand the same respect—and salary—he had. As a senior vice president of a Fortune 500 company, he’d traveled frequently and worked long hours. When he was home, he ruled with an iron fist, ruthlessly steering his children in the direction he thought they should go.
At fifty-five, he died of a massive heart attack. Her mother had found herself alone, lacking any practical skills beyond child rearing and the ability to plan dinner parties. While there was a sizable life insurance policy, nothing could compensate for the years of loneliness she’d endured.
Sedona was grateful for her career and her ability to support herself, but she had to admit, her ambition to succeed in a man’s world had done nothing for her on a personal level. She had few friends, male or female. She’d never had a real boyfriend, at least none to speak of, and never for any length of time. She spent her evenings at home watching reruns of Sex and the City, vaguely shocked at the blatant promiscuity and sexual freedom the characters portrayed, and secretly wishing she could be more like them.
She thought about how Angel had looked at her in the fitness room. For just an instant, his expression had been taut and hungry, as if he wanted to eat her alive. A primal awareness had surged through her and a slow, pulsing throb had settled low in her abdomen. It had scared her so much she’d bolted, praying he hadn’t seen the naked desire she’d felt for him.
Back in her room, she berated herself for being such a coward. She wanted Angel Torres. She’d fantasized about him more times than she cared to admit. She should have stayed. She should have continued with her stretching exercises; maybe acted coy and asked him to show her how the weight machines worked. She’d been a total wimp, but no more. She was going to change her attitude and go for what she wanted.
As she paced, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and stopped to examine herself with a critical eye. Lacking anything overtly feminine in her wardrobe, she had finally settled on a pair of faded jeans topped with a sleeveless blouse in a soft, moss green. She had debated over what to do with her hair, and finally opted to wear it loose around her shoulders, where it gleamed in soft waves of red and gold. She wore no cosmetics, unless a quick slash of tinted, fruity lip balm across her mouth counted.
For her, these concessions were huge, but would they be enough to attract Angel’s attention? Hopefully, because if he didn’t show at least a tiny bit of interest in her as a woman, she wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to go through with her plan.
She was going to sleep with Angel Torres.
Well…she hoped it would be more than just sleeping, actually. A lot more. She remembered again all the hard, lean muscle he possessed, and the ease with which he’d worked the treadmill. Her imagination conjured up sultry images of him directing that strength and stamina into a different kind of workout. The images she carried of him in her mind had even inspired her to fill several pages of her sketchbook.
She’d made up her mind about what to do as she’d fled the fitness room, her heart still beating hard from the jumble of emotions he stirred in her. She was going to have him. It hadn’t been as much a conscious decision as a physical imperative.
She’d never done anything so reckless in her entire life. She recalled Mike Sullivan’s comments about hiding in her hotel room each time she went on business travel. She’d always been so concerned about her reputation that she’d pretty much denied herself any enjoyment. Her father would have said there was a name for women who consorted with their male colleagues after hours. He’d have had no respect for those women, and Sedona reluctantly acknowledged it was one of the reasons she chose to remain alone and aloof.
But her father was gone. There was nobody to criticize her behavior except herself. How much worse would she feel if she let this opportunity slip away? If she was ever going to fulfill her fantasy, now was the perfect time. She was at a point in her life when she had decisions to make, both personally and professionally. Her entire life had been spent setting her own dreams aside in order to please others. Well, now it was time to please herself.
Sedona admitted Angel was out of her league. On a sexometer, he was off the charts. She might be able to keep his interest for the short run, but eventually he’d move on. She was prepared for that. This wasn’t about keeping him. It was about taking control of her life and finally doing things to please herself. She had the distinct feeling that having Angel in her bed would please her very much.
But she didn’t have much time to accomplish her goal. She had no idea how long the inspection of the grounded jets might take. She’d told her boss she was resigning but hadn’t been truthful about why, except that her career wasn’t advancing as she’d hoped.
While she had initially given just two weeks’ notice, she’d finally agreed to stay with the agency long enough to complete the Coyote inspections, however long that might take. They could be on the West Coast for weeks, or they could get lucky and identify the cause of the mishaps within the first few days. Either way, they couldn’t stay at Lemoore Naval Air Station indefinitely, and once they returned to the East Coast, her employment with the agency would be over.