Yvonne Lindsay - Tangled Vows

“This is a nice kitchen,” she said, striving for more neutral conversational territory. “Did you have it installed or did it come like this when you bought the house?”

“I bought the house pretty much as you see it,” he said. “With the exception of the furnishings and art. Why don’t I show you the rest before we head out?”

She nodded and followed him as he led the way out of the kitchen and through to a casual sitting area. A massive television dominated most of one wall.

“Wow,” she exclaimed. “All you need is a cooler in the side of your chair and you’ll be living every man’s dream, won’t you?”

“Hey, when I watch the air races I want to feel like I’m in them, not just a spectator.”

“I understand. Although nothing quite beats the real thing.”

“Speaking of which, are you going to take me up in your Ryan anytime soon?”

“I heard you don’t like being a passenger—that you prefer to hold on to the controls yourself.”

She said the words lightly, but she understood them on her own level. She’d spent years side by side with her grandfather restoring the Ryan to flying condition and had worked really hard to earn her rating to fly it. No one took that plane up but her.

“Where did you hear that?” Ilya asked, his brows drawing into a straight line.

“Oh, it’s pretty common knowledge around the airport. You know how people talk.”

“What else do they say about me?” Ilya asked, moving closer to her.

She could feel the heat that emanated from his body. It was like a magnet, drawing her closer. She nearly always felt cold, but with him around, she doubted she’d ever need an extra layer again.

“Oh, that you’re a hard worker and a reasonable boss.”

“That’s it?”

“Hey, you wouldn’t tell me what was in the smoothie, so I’m not sharing all my secrets. A girl’s got to hold something back, right?”

He laughed again and Yasmin felt her lips kick up in an answering smile.

“So I’m an overbearing pilot, a hard worker and a reasonable boss.”

Her grin widened at the chagrin with which he said the word reasonable . “I never said overbearing. But if the shoe fits...?”

He reached out to catch her shoulders with his hands. Heat seared through her top and penetrated her skin. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. Was he going to kiss her again? Part of her hoped he would, while the other... The other part wasn’t ready to face the tumult of sensation he set off in her. It was a weakness she needed to learn to shore up, and swiftly, if they were to remain on an even playing field when it came to this marriage. She had too much to lose otherwise.

To a lot of people, marrying sight unseen just to save her business was an extreme measure. Heck, even to her it was extreme. But to win the Hardacre contract, she had to be married. It was as simple as that. It was frustrating that, in this day and age, her business was held hostage by Wallace Hardacre’s wandering eye and his wife’s jealousy. But if getting married meant she’d win the five-year exclusive contract ensuring her company had the income stream to not only keep it afloat but eventually allow it to expand and create more jobs, she was prepared to do it.

All she’d had to do then was find a husband. Fast. She’d just never expected that husband to be Ilya Horvath.

Ilya snapped his fingers, dragging her out of her reverie.

“Earth to Yasmin. I feel like I lost you there for a moment.”

She forced a smile. “Sorry, just thinking about my grandfather,” she fibbed.

“I never met him but I heard he was a wizard mechanic. Not an aircraft engine he couldn’t fix, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He was always better at mechanics than people.”

“Was it hard growing up with him?”

“Yes and no. Obviously I missed my mom and dad. They’d cruise by when they were in the area, still do occasionally. But Granddad gave me stability, which I didn’t have with them. And he taught me the value of silence.”

“Is that a hint?”

“Oh, heavens, no. Not at all. It’s just some people seem to need to fill a silence with noise, rather than simply letting the silence fill them for a change.”

Ilya nodded. “I think I know a few people like that. Come on, let me show you the rest of the place, then we can head out in the hills.”

* * *

She was fit and strong, Ilya thought appreciatively as they reached the crest of the hill that would afford them the best view across the valley. And she didn’t complain, either.

“That was quite a climb,” Yasmin said, as she stopped and put her hands on her hips.

Her breathing was only slightly labored and she’d barely broken a sweat even though the temperatures had begun to climb into the seventies very soon after they’d started hiking.

“It’s worth it for the view,” Ilya commented as he came to stand beside her.

And he wasn’t just talking about the stunning Ojai Valley vistas, either. The woman standing next to him was a picture of perfection. She glowed with natural good health and vitality, a far cry from the kinds of women who moved in his circles. At the back of his mind he couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about her, too. But of course there had to be, he told himself as he turned his gaze from her to the valley that spread before them. They worked at the same airport. They’d both been fed stories of how their families had been friends then feuding rivals. They knew of each other, even if they didn’t actually know each other. Even so, the little niggle persisted that he knew her from somewhere else.

“You were so lucky last year’s fires missed your home,” Yasmin said, looking around at the flora fighting to regenerate on the hills around them.

“I was luckier than a lot of people.”

“Your property looks like an oasis from up here,” she commented.

“It certainly feels like it after a hard day in the office.”

He heard her breath hitch. “We agreed not to talk about work, remember?”

“Right. My mistake.”

He clenched his jaw. It had only felt natural to mention work. After all, it had taken up more than half of every day of his adult life. It was going to be harder than he thought to compartmentalize things, to exclude her from what was essentially the core of his world. But then again, he reminded himself, in time she would become the core of his world—wouldn’t she?

A tiny animal sound came from somewhere behind them.

“Did you hear that?” Yasmin asked, looking around.

“Yeah. There it is again.”

Ilya walked cautiously toward the source of the noise, wary in case the animal was unfriendly. Yasmin showed no such care. She pushed past him into the undergrowth.

“Oh look, it’s a puppy. The poor baby.”

She scooped the mess of dirt and multicolored fur up into her arms and cradled it to her. The puppy whimpered.

“Is he hurt?” Ilya asked, stepping forward.

It maddened him that people could be so cruel as to abandon their animals, and this one looked very definitely abandoned. The puppy bore a narrow blue collar, which hinted that at some stage it had had an owner who cared enough to buy it one. There was a road that passed not too far from this point. It had probably been dumped along there. Possibly even thrown from a passing car if the grazes on his paw pads were anything to go by.

“Not too badly, I think. But he’ll be thirsty, poor baby. I wonder how long he’s been up here.”

Ilya poured some of the water from his bottle into the palm of his hand and offered it to the puppy. The animal weakly lapped it up. The little guy was probably dehydrated. Ilya kept adding a little trickle of water until the puppy stopped drinking.