Kate Hoffmann - Paris or Bust!

“I’m coming up,” Wade said again.

“No,” she replied, sounding slightly less calm now. But damn it, she didn’t want him to see how stupid she’d been to walk on the one weak spot on the entire roof. “Why don’t you go fly your last charter for the day.”

“How do you know I have one more?”

“Uh…” Because if anyone was stalking anyone, she was stalking him. Every morning she looked his schedule over, checking the weather, memorizing where he’d be flying, picturing him out there… “Daisy mentioned it.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Oh yeah, she needed help, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to him. “I’m quite sure. But…thank you. Thank you very much.”

WADE WENT. He did so because he knew damn well what Kylie had done, and knew she’d never admit to needing anyone, much less him. But at least she was still ornery as hell, so he figured she couldn’t have hurt herself too badly.

Damn her. He went up into the attic to verify for himself that Kylie was really good and stuck, and yep, there were her two long legs dangling through the rafters.

Too bad she wasn’t wearing a dress.

Then he cancelled his charter. A first. That he cancelled it for a woman really bit. He went back outside, but waited a good half an hour first, until the building cleared out and everyone had gone home. He waited an extra half an hour just because.

Then he climbed the ladder until his head was level with the roof. “Still here?” he asked of the woman half-in and half-out of the building.

She’d been studying the sunset, but turned her head to look at him through narrowed eyes.

“Ready to admit you need help?”

“Oh, has hell frozen over?” she asked sweetly.

He grinned and, reaching out, brushed a stray tendril of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. He loved the feel of her skin, so soft, and he loved the scent of her. No fancy perfumes for Kylie, heaven forbid, just the irresistible scent of shampoo and woman. Because he could, he leaned in, pressed his face to her hair, inhaling deeply.

Interestingly enough, she shivered. “What are you doing?”

“Smelling you. You smell good. Are you cold, Kylie?”

“No.”

“Ah.” He climbed up the rest of the way and carefully sat right next to her. On the unrotten spot, of course.

She was frowning, his Kylie. “What does that mean, ‘ah’?”

“It means if you’re not cold, you shivered because of me touching you.” He tucked another wayward strand of hair behind her other ear and goose bumps appeared on her arm. Stroking a finger down that arm, he watched her eyes go dark. She bit her lower lip.

“Admit you need my help,” he said softly.

“No.”

He danced his finger down her neck, over her throat, to her racing pulse. She trembled, and unbelievably, so did he.

“Look at us,” he whispered. “Both shaking from just a simple touch…we should give this a go.”

“I’m…not into you.”

“Really? What was that kiss about then?”

“It was about the spiked punch. And anyway, it was a long time ago. It wouldn’t happen now.”

“Hmm.” He ran that finger over her collarbone and her nipples beaded.

He went hard as a rock. “So you’re saying I could kiss you now and you’d feel nothing.”

“R-right.”

Bracing his feet of the roof molding, he wrapped an arm around her and tugged, until she popped free…and ended up in his lap. The now filthy, curvy, hot Kylie squirmed like crazy, trying to scramble out of his arms, but he put his mouth to her ear and said silkily, “I dare you to sit still for another kiss.”

“Don’t be stupid-”

“I dare you to sit still,” he repeated. “And not respond.”

She stared at him.

“Double dog dare you,” he whispered, tracing a finger over the dust on her jaw. “Come on, Kylie. Prove to me there’s nothing here to wonder about.”

She swallowed hard.

“What’s the matter, you chicken?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, then.” He leaned close enough to drown in her annoyed yet curious-in-spite-of-herself gaze. “Remember now, hold still. No jumping my bones. No showing how badly you want me, or I get to claim a prize.” And when her eyes flashed, he bit back his grin and put his mouth over hers.

A T THE TOUCHof his mouth to hers, Kylie thought, Oh. My. God. The man had the most amazingly perfect kiss on the face of the earth. Tender, warm, firm…just right.

Completely beyond herself, she let out a helpless little sound because she wanted more, more, more, and what did he do?

He pulled back! Pulled back and shook his head at her. “No sound,” he whispered gruffly. “Don’t want me to get any ideas, right? And no touching,” he added, unwinding her arms free of his neck-how had they gotten there?-and holding them at her sides. “No talking, no nothing.” His voice sounded thick and raspy, as if he was having trouble breathing. “Because if you’re not careful, I’ll think you want this, really want this.” And before she could slug him in the belly for laughing at her, he’d put his mouth back on hers.

The gentleness was gone now as he dove in, hot and hard, claiming, possessing, using his lips, his tongue, his teeth… She struggled to free her arms and wind them around his neck, her hips arched to his, but his hands held her immobile.

He pulled back again, staring down at her with fathomless eyes, his mouth grimmer than she’d ever seen.

She opened her mouth, to say what she had no idea, but he put his fingers over her lips, shaking his head. Then he pushed her off his lap and went down the ladder, disappearing into the night.

Guess I passed his little dare, she thought dimly, hot as hell in the cool night. When had night come anyway?

Damn it.

Damn him.

THE NEXT DAY Kylie hadn’t even opened the glass doors to the airport lobby when two reporters stepped out in front of her and shoved a microphone in her face.

Beyond them, inside, she could see her mother behind the reception desk, laughing. And one Wade McKinnon in front of that desk standing there with casual ease, also smiling.

What were they laughing at?

Even from here she could see the speculative gleam in Daisy’s eyes…no doubt she was going to try to set Kylie up with him.

She should have stayed in bed.

But in bed she couldn’t be at the airport. Surrounded by everything that was such a comfort.

Besides, in bed, she’d lie there thinking about the night before, being in Wade’s arms, his mouth on hers, driving her right out of her living mind.

And maybe she’d forget why she couldn’t add one more person to her load.

“Kylie Birmingham?” Reporter number one stepped even closer. “Tell us how you feel about your mother’s essay, about the heartbreaking way she wrote about you.”

Kylie blinked in surprise. “I…” Should have read that essay, apparently.

Daisy happened to glance up and catch her eyes. Was it Kylie’s imagination that her mother flushed guiltily? No, it was not. And it wasn’t the reporters that made her mother do so, her mother loved reporters.

Which left Wade McKinnon.

They were plotting something. The thought was confirmed when Daisy broke eye contact first.

The tall, sexy man who kissed like heaven didn’t so much as glance in Kylie’s direction, but he was still smiling. Conspiratorially.

Oh, yes, they were most definitely up to something.

“Ms. Birmingham? About your mother? Can you tell us about your relationship? Does she require your help to run this airport?”

Ha! “No comment,” she said. “And no pictures,” she told them when one lifted a camera. Looking at her mother, she stalked into the lobby. She strutted right up to them in midlaugh and pointed at the both of them. “Stop it.”