'He certainly seems very qualified for the post,' she said reluctantly.
'But?' Luke bit out the word. 'What's wrong this time? Let me guess. You don't trust men with brown eyes, his feet are too large, you didn't like the colour of his tie?'
She flushed, her fingers flicking the edge of the folder laid out on the desk in front of her. This was the ninth candidate they'd interviewed for the position of manager over the past few days, and so far she'd raised objections to each one.
'I just wondered if perhaps he was a little too old...I mean, he's only recently taken early retirement from his last job --'
'And soon realised that he'd made a mistake,' Luke interrupted impatiently. 'What's the matter with you, Mike? This is beginning to verge on the farcical.'
'I don't think we should rush into anything, that's all,' she said lamely.
'I hardly think it's "rushing into things" to employ someone of Steven Evans's calibre. In fact, "we're" damn lucky to get him and if we don't move quickly someone else is going to snap him up.'
'You're right,' she agreed unhappily. 'He's ideal.'
'And it's an added bonus that he'll be able to start virtually straight away.'
'I suppose it is,' she mumbled, thinking the exact reverse.
Luke rose to his feet in a swift, controlled movement. 'I'm going to see what's happening in Ops.'
'Do you seriously think we're going to have some diversions?' she asked as he walked to the outer door.
'I should say there's a strong possibility if the weather doesn't improve at Gatwick and Heathrow, and it remains clear here.'
Mike leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily as Luke closed the door behind him. She'd hoped that it would take months to find a suitable replacement for Andrew, not merely three weeks. With the installation of a new, competent, experienced manager, it wouldn't be long before Luke decided that his own presence at the airport was unnecessary.
He would probably be relieved to go, she thought with a painful twist of her heart. Not only did his interest in her appear to have waned, but she was beginning to suspect that he was becoming increasingly bored with Kingston Air now that it was operating so smoothly, the airline's transition to handling agent having been completed without a hitch last week.
Mereton Holdings was demanding more and more of his attention. The company executive jet was now based on permanent standby at the airport and Luke made frequent trips abroad, as well as up to London, compensating for his absence on his return by working late into the night at the airport.
Other than for a couple of business lunches, she hadn't once seen Luke outside the airport since the day they'd spent exploring Dorset together. There had been no more invitations to dinner, no more shared expeditions to the coast.
All her heart-searching had been for nothing. There was no need to make any decision about her relationship with Luke—because it was now non-existent. Mereton Holdings and Kingston Air between them monopolised his every waking hour. He simply no longer had time left for her.
Sometimes, he seemed so preoccupied that she doubted he was even aware of her existence, despite her physical proximity. At other times, some sixth sense would alert her to his presence, and she would turn her head and discover him standing in the open doorway of his office, watching her with dark, inscrutable eyes, but whether he was thinking about her, or she just happened to be in his line of vision, she had no idea.
She missed him acutely on the days he was absent from the airport, and yet when he was there she felt tense and on edge. Occasionally he would casually, almost absent-mindedly, invite her to lunch in the staff canteen, but she always refused the invitations on some pretext or other, wary that in a less formal setting she might inadvertently betray herself. It was vital that he should never suspect the strength of her feelings for him, not simply through pride but because it would make the situation at work even more unbearable than it was already.
She, too, was putting in long hours at the airport, her administrative knowledge and skills improving daily, and she usually returned to Rakers' Moon in the late evening, too tired to do anything but eat a solitary supper and tumble into bed. Then invariably, as tired as she was, her sleep would be disturbed by images of Luke, and she would finally fall into a restless slumber just before dawn, to be woken shortly afterwards by the insistent clamour of her alarm clock.
Unenthusiastically, Mike selected a folder at random from her in-tray. She hadn't appreciated until the past few weeks just how much mundane, tedious paperwork was involved in running the small airline, and was finding it increasingly irksome to be stuck behind a desk for most of the day. Sometimes she gave in to temptation, and escaped from the confines' of her office and went for a brisk walk around the airport to clear her mind, always drawn in the end towards the engineering section. She missed her old job, she thought ruefully, and was beginning to have grave doubts about her aptitude for administration.
She glanced up as the outer door was flung open.
'Gatwick's clamped in fog. Visibility at Heathrow is just on limits and trending downwards,' Luke announced laconically and then grinned. 'First diversion, Corfu en route to Gatwick, expected in twenty minutes.'
Mike pushed back her chair, her eyes brightening with anticipation. This was more like it, she thought with elation, slamming the folder shut.
'The paperwork of Victor Uniform, the 737 from Malaga,' Mike murmured, edging her way through the crowded operations-room to where Luke was seated opposite the senior duty officer.
'Thanks.' Luke took the large envelope from her hand and deposited it in a tray with the outer aircraft documentation awaiting his attention. 'Anne...' he glanced over his shoulder '... would you go down to the Customs hall, please, and see how Jackie's coping? Tell her the end is in sight,' he added with a quick smile. 'Sue, the passengers for the outbound Palma should be arriving by coach any minute now. They've all been checked in and issued with boarding cards at Gatwick, so you can take them straight through Security and Immigration.'
Both girls immediately replaced their uniform hats and gloves and headed for the door.
Mike perched on the edge of an empty desk, resting her throbbing feet, and surveyed the exhausted faces around her. Some of the staff had been on duty since half-past five this morning and it was now nearly nine o'clock at night, and yet not one of them had complained. They'd worked tirelessly through the day with virtually no break, and it was only now that the pressure had eased that their weariness was starting to show.
There was a knock at the office door and, as she was nearest, Mike went to answer it, slightly taken aback to find herself confronted by a large, overalled man clutching a number of cardboard containers.
'I was told to come straight through,' he announced. 'Pizzas.'
'Right, thank you.' Luke came up behind her and collected the boxes, fishing in his pocket for some money. He looked around at the assembled staff. 'Hope you all like pizzas,' he smiled. 'Now take them through to the crew-room and then go home,' he ordered. 'You too,' he added, turning to the senior duty officer. 'I'll see the Palma out.' He paused and added quietly, 'And thanks.'
'What about the inbound Guernsey?' someone asked immediately.
'I'll stay on and meet that,' Mike said swiftly, her eyes resting on Luke's dark head. He had been in his element today, she thought, her mouth curving softly, his enthusiasm affecting every single member of the staff. Even now, as exhausted as they were, they were reluctant to go home.
In addition to their own schedule and charter services Kingston Air handled twenty-nine flights diverted from Gatwick and Heathrow. Some of the aircraft had night stopped and would be positioned back to their base airport in the morning. Others had departed for a variety of European destinations with a fresh crew on board, and passengers transported down from London.
Without Luke's cool, calm leadership, his skills as a co-ordinator, Mike had no doubts that the day would have dissolved into complete pandemonium. It had still b
een chaotic, she thought with an inward smile— but an organised chaos.
The sudden influx of nearly three thousand extra passengers into the small, provincial airport had placed a severe strain on all its facilities. The arrivals lounges hadn't been designed to cater for such numbers, and on occasions there had been no option other than to keep passengers waiting on board their aircraft until the congestion in the over-crowded lounges eased. The unavoidable delay had inevitably caused some passengers to become irritable and bad-tempered, but, Mike remembered with a rush of pride, every one of the airline staff had remained cool and calm, had dealt with even the most abusive of passengers with unfailing courtesy and patience—only letting off steam when they had returned to the operations-room.
The two girls returned from the Customs hall, announcing that the last coachload of passengers had departed for London, and Luke dispatched them to join the others in the crew-room.
'I'll go and see the Palma off,' he murmured to Mike, picking up the paperwork, 'if you'd like to listen out for the Guernsey.' He paused on his way to the door and studied her tired, drawn face. 'You look exhausted,' he said quietly.
'I am,' she admitted, the concern on his face making her stomach dip, 'but it's been worth it.' Hazel eyes locked into grey ones and simultaneously they both started to grin.
'We did it!' Luke grabbed hold of her hands and swung her around in front of him. the use of the plural warming her as much as the pressure of his fingers. He looked and sounded as elated as if he'd just completed a multimillion pound boardroom deal, Mike thought, feeling closer to him than she had for weeks, loving him so much that it was a physical pain.
His face sobered and slowly he drew her towards him, his eyes holding hers.
'Mike...' His hands threaded through her silky curls, tilting her head upwards and his mouth, warm, firm and sensual, took possession of hers.
There was no steady rise of languorous pleasure but an explosion of senses as all Mike's pent-up longing of days was released. Her lips parted under the urgent demands of his mouth, her hands reached up and clung to the hard, muscular shoulders. The blood roared in her ears. She was spinning out of control, oblivious to everything but that driving ache deep inside her, that desperation to be even closer to Luke.
'Alpha November to Kingston Air.'
She heard Luke's sharp intake of breath as he lifted his head and looked towards the radio, his eyes dark and disorientated as if he, like her, was having difficulty in recalling his surroundings.
'I'll answer it,' Mike said shakily. 'The Palma...' she reminded him.
He nodded wordlessly, abruptly stooped down to retrieve the papers scattered on the floor at their feet, and then strode out of the office.
Taking a deep, controlling breath, Mike moved across the room to the radio, her responses .automatic, and then slumped weakly down on to a chair before her legs gave way, and covered her face with her hands. Luke had virtually ignored her for the past three weeks and yet he'd only had to touch her and she'd responded with a passion that was both terrifying and humiliating. Tentatively she touched her swollen lips with the tip of her tongue, and cringed inwardly, her eyes clouding with self-condemnation. What had happened to her pride? Her self-respect? She'd betrayed herself completely tonight... She might just as well have shouted out her love for Luke over the Tannoy. Oh, God, how could she have been so weak, so mindless...?
'Is there a time on the Guernsey?'
Vaguely she registered the airport luggage hand standing in the doorway, looking at her questioningly.
'Yes. The aircraft's just called in,' she told him quickly. 'ETA about five minutes.'
She forced herself to her feet, slipped on the uniform coat she'd borrowed earlier in the day from one of the cabin crew, and followed the overalled figure down the corridor.
* * *
Mike waited until the last passenger had collected his suitcase from the baggage hall and then reluctantly began to retrace her steps back to the Kingston Air offices, wishing desperately that she could simply go straight to the car park and drive home to the sanctity of Rakers' Moon. She dreaded having to face Luke again tonight. She felt too vulnerable, her nerves raw and as taut as a steel wire. Deliberately she schooled her features into a blank, impassive mask and then wondered why she was even bothering with the subterfuge. Wasn't it a little late to assume such pretended indifference to Luke?
She found him in the operations-room seated at one of the desks, his dark head bent over a pile of paperwork. Silently she entered the office and hung up her coat, watching him all the while from under her lashes.
She licked her dry lips. 'Is there anything I can do to help?' she addressed the lean back, her voice calm and controlled.
'No, thanks, Mike.' He flicked her a glance over his shoulder. 'I should be finished in a couple of minutes.'
'If it's all right, I may as well go straight on home, then,' she said briskly, picking up her handbag, relieved that this ordeal wasn't going to be prolonged any further.
Her relief was short-lived as Luke suddenly flung back his chair. 'No, it damn well isn't all right!' he thundered, his eyes blazing at her. 'You're not leaving this room until I've had a few straight answers.' Swiftly he crossed the floor and stood towering over her. 'What the hell's been the matter with you these last few weeks?' His hands closed over her shoulders like a steel clamp, holding her immobile.
'I don't know what you mean,' Mike said weakly, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.
'Don't you? Three weeks ago I spent the day in the company of a beautiful, warm, caring, responsive woman.' The anger had drained from his face. His voice was soft, caressing her as he'd earlier caressed her with his mouth and hands. 'That evening I had to go to Geneva.' He paused, and Mike jolted as his hands dropped to her waist, her pulses beginning to beat erratically. 'On my return I found a cold, impersonal stranger.'
Shock waves tingled down her spine. She was the one responsible for the coolness that had existed between them over the past weeks. It wasn't Luke who had changed—but her. She might have told herself that she was prepared to risk a casual liaison with him, but it had all been bravado and deep down she'd shied away from the very thought. Subconsciously she'd erected a protective, defensive barrier around her, deliberately trying to shut Luke out both mentally and physically.
'At first I thought you were sulking because I'd been forced to cancel our dinner date that evening.'
'That's absolutely ridiculous,' she denied hotly.
'Is it?' His head was bent towards her, his breath warm against her cheek.
Mike swallowed, mustering every ounce of self-control. 'D-didn't it ever occur to you that I simply didn't want to become involved with you any further?' Her heart was pounding so loudly that he must surely hear it.
'Yes, it did.' He touched her forehead with his lips. 'And that's why I kept my distance.' His mouth brushed over her cheekbones. 'But I don't believe that's true any more. Look at me, Mike,' he demanded hoarsely, 'and tell me you want me to leave you alone.'
She gave an involuntary gasp of shock as he eased her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and his fingers seared her naked flesh, moving in a slow, sensual rhythm across her back.
'This isn't fair,' she choked, shivering as his hand slid round to her rib-cage and then curved around the swell of her breast.
'And have you been fair to me?' he muttered thickly, his lips trailing a scalding path down her throat. 'Do you know what it's like seeing you every day, wanting to hold you, to touch you... and watching you flinch every time I come anywhere near you...?' He crushed her against, him, his face fierce with desire, his eyes dark, heavy with need.
'Luke,' Mike said frantically, feeling her own control slipping away, her suppliant body melting into the hard, male frame. 'Someone might come in...'
'Come back to my cottage.'
'No! I can't... I don't want to...'
'Stop pretending.' Luke's mouth was against her ear, his tongue teasing the
sensitive spot beneath it. 'You want me to make love to you as much as I want to. Admit it, Mike. You can't run away forever.'
'I...' It was pointless to deny it, nor was she going to be able to resist him for much longer, she thought desperately. Summoning all her strength, she pushed against the hard wall of his chest, and jerked herself free of his restraining arms, hastily tucking her blouse back into her skirt. 'I don't want a casual affair with you. I c-couldn't deal with it.'
'There is nothing casual about my feelings for you,' he rasped harshly. There was a leap of anger in his eyes. 'What the hell do you think I'm proposing? A one-night stand?' Abruptly, he turned away and walked over to the window and stood staring out into the darkness.
Uncertainly, Mike moved towards him. 'Luke?'
He looked down at her with frozen eyes. 'You may as well go home,' he dismissed her curtly. 'I'll lock up.'
'OK.' She felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. She collected her belongings and then paused in the doorway. 'Goodnight, Luke.'
He had resumed his stance by the window, and if he heard her he gave no indication of it. Mike's face tightened. He'd accused her of sulking earlier, she recalled. Wasn't that exactly what he was now doing, simply because she'd declined to go back to the cottage with him? Throwing a scornful look at his back, she closed the door and walked swiftly down the corridor, through the empty terminal and out into the cool night air.
She took a deep breath and began to walk towards the car park. She'd won a battle with herself tonight, she supposed, but she felt no sense of victory. Her hands, thrust deep into the pockets of her jacket, clenched into tight fists. She wanted to scream, to burst into tears, to bang her head against a brick wall...anything to relieve that twisted, aching feeling gnawing inside her.
She fished into her handbag for her car keys, unlocked the door of the Porsche arid slipped into the driver's seat. She was just about to turn on the ignition when the car phone buzzed. Her immediate reaction was to ignore it, but it continued to ring insistently arid unenthusiastically she reached out a hand and picked up the receiver.
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