‘I’m sorry for blubbering all over you.’
‘It’s okay.’ His fingers slowed as something in his gaze changed, heated. Her breath caught.
The hand at her jaw moved back, curving around her nape, his thumb settling against the underside of her chin. He used it to apply gentle pressure to tilt her head further back.
His gaze settled on her mouth. Oh, man—was he going to kiss her?
Unable to stop herself, she licked her suddenly parched lips.
‘Molly…’
The word was whispered. A statement, not a question. But she heard the request nonetheless.
Dear Reader
One would expect a seasoned traveller to love the adventure of flying from place to place, living in lands far from home, learning about new cultures and different types of food. That’s me! All except for the very first point: flying from place to place. During my adult years I’ve lived outside my home country more than I’ve lived within its borders. That means I have to fly. A lot. And you know what? I tremble every time I step foot on a plane.
My father—a man I look up to—spent his life around planes. He served with the Hurricane Hunters, a group of brave souls who fly into hurricanes gathering information. And later, during his time with the Navy, he worked as a flight mechanic aboard an aircraft carrier. He still loves planes. I should have inherited a little of that love, right? Nope. My husband still has to grip my hand during each and every take-off. What would I do if I were married to a pilot? That simple thought led to DOCTOR’S MILE-HIGH FLING—the story of a rescue pilot and the doctor who works with him.
Thank you for joining Blake and Molly as they experience the joy and heartbreak of working under very difficult conditions. Their dedication to their patients helps Molly overcome her fear and rise to meet each new challenge. Best of all, this special couple finds love along the way. I hope you enjoy reading about their journey as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Sincerely
Tina Beckett
Born to a family that was always on the move, Tina Beckettlearned to pack a suitcase almost before she knew how to tie her shoes. Fortunately she met a man who also loved to travel, and she snapped him right up. Married for over twenty years, Tina has three wonderful children and has lived in gorgeous places such as Portugal and Brazil.
Living where English reading material is difficult to find has its drawbacks, however. Tina had to come up with creative ways to satisfy her love for romance novels, so she picked up her pen and tried writing one. After her tenth book, she realised she was hooked. She was officially a writer.
A three-time Golden Heart finalist, and fluent in Portuguese, Tina now divides her time between the United States and Brazil. She loves to use exotic locales as the backdrop for many of her stories. When she’s not writing you can find her either on horseback or soldering stained glass panels for her home.
Tina loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, or friend her on Facebook.
Check out her exciting debut,
DOCTOR’S GUIDE TO
DATING IN THE JUNGLE.
Doctor’s
Mile-High
Fling
Tina Beckett
www.millsandboon.co.uk
To my two greatest heroes:
my father and my husband. I love you both.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
A FINE line existed between taking a dare and actually going through with it.
Molly McKinna was about to cross that line. Belted in and ready to take off, she glanced out of the window at her partner in crime, who simply made a rolling motion with his hand: get on with it.
Easy for Doug to say. His clammy fingers weren’t the ones glued to the sides of the copilot seat of the small Cessna.
Flying. Why did it have to involve flying?
“Are you ready?” The flash of a hard dimple signaled the rescue pilot’s amusement, but he could laugh his head off for all she cared. As long as he brought her back from Dutch Harbor alive.
She agreed with Doug, really she did. She had to decide if she could hack the flight from Anchorage to the Aleutian islands before accepting the job. But why did she have to choose a location where the only mode of transportation involved whizzing across the ocean as if shot from a giant slingshot?
You’d think being born to a bush pilot would give her an innate love for flying. But since her father, a man with thirty years of experience, had died in a plane crash on this very same route while she’d been in medical school, she no longer had much confidence in the whole flying scene. In fact, she’d avoided it ever since.
And yet here she was. Desperation sometimes bred stupidity.
Realizing the man at the controls was awaiting her reply, she mumbled, “Do I look ready?”
Either he didn’t hear her, or figured that was as close to an affirmative answer as he was likely to get, because his mouth quirked once again before he revved the engines to a howling fury and raced toward the end of the tarmac.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…
Then they were off the ground and climbing fast.
She only realized her eyes were screwed shut when her traveling companion’s deep voice broke through the whine of the engine. “You can let go now.”
Cracking open one eyelid, she glanced sideways and encountered the pilot’s strong tanned jaw, the lightest dusting of dark stubble making him look more human somehow. When she’d first arrived at the airport, he’d seemed a little annoyed at being recruited to fly her to check out the medical facilities on the islands. Moments later, she’d decided she’d either imagined his reaction or he hid his emotions all too well.
Even so, she couldn’t blame him for being irritated, since he’d wound up having to watch and wait while Doug had given her a pep talk about cars being more dangerous than planes. Not that his speech had helped calm her racing heart!
No way could she run now, though. She was strapped in and hanging high above the sea. And she still had the return trip to look forward to.
“So the flight takes three hours?” Molly forced her hands off the seat and into her lap, linking her fingers in what she hoped was a reasonable facsimile of casual indifference.
“Depending on weather conditions, yes.”
“And today’s conditions are…?”
“For this time of year?” He slid a sideway glance at her and raised his brows. “About normal.”
Normal.
Molly gave an inward eye roll. Well, that certainly gave her a lot to go on. Why did every pilot she’d ever met speak in that deep soothing baritone that only made her want to scramble for the nearest life vest? Did their final exam include an “octave” test or something? Were the pilots with high squeaky voices ejected in mid-flight?
Her teeth came down on her lip. Okay, the words ejected and mid-flight were officially banned from her vocabulary.
“I’m sorry about your father.” He looked straight ahead. “He was a good man.”
“You knew him?” That surprised her—enough to let her push aside some of her fear. She’d seen the hunky pilot around the hospital from time to time. She even knew his name was Blake Taylor, but her father had never mentioned him when he’d been alive.
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