Kimberly Meter - The Flyboy's Temptation

It would be a miracle if they survived.

And J.T. worried...they might be plain out of miracles.

* * *

HOPE SURGED TO the surface with a huge gasp as her lungs screamed for air. Mist from the waterfall sprayed her face as she tread water looking frantically for J.T.

Oh, God, please don’t be dead. “J.T.?” she called out, desperately hoping that some kind of luck—even if she didn’t believe in luck—was on their side.

J.T. popped up from beneath the water and she nearly cried with relief. She swam to him and immediately went into his arms, so grateful that he was alive that she didn’t care that he was a relative stranger. Immediately aware of the strength rippling in his arms as he held her afloat, she found herself a little breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, and all she could do was nod gratefully.

“You’re alive,” she said, smiling through tears that had suddenly appeared without warning. “I thought you were dead when you didn’t surface right away.”

“More weight...went deeper,” he grunted, his arms tightening around her, water spraying all around them.

“I was scared,” she admitted, pushing away the wet hair clinging to her face. “I thought for sure we were both dead.”

“Not dead yet,” he said with a ragged smile, showing no signs of letting her go, and she was okay with that.

More than okay.

Was it bad that she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go?

Of course it was.

“Well, glad you didn’t die,” Hope said, reluctantly pulling away so she could gather her wits before they floated away along with her self-respect.

“That makes two of us,” he said from behind her as they swam away from the falls to climb onto the rocks lining the bank of the river.

Hope cautiously stood on a slippery flat rock to survey where they’d landed.

“It’s like something off a postcard,” Hope noted with wry amusement at the raw natural beauty of the scenic lagoon as her gaze traveled up the waterfall. She shuddered at how high they’d fallen. Had she really just gone over the falls like a skipping stone? She didn’t even like staying on the top floors of hotels! “But I never want to do that again.”

J.T. paused in shaking his head like a shaggy dog to squint up at the falls. “Yeah, that was an adrenaline rush, wasn’t it? Reminded me of the time I went bungee jumping off the Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado. I thought I was going to piss myself. It was great.”

“I don’t understand the fascination people have with putting themselves in terrifying situations simply for the biochemical response created by saturating your brain with fear hormones.”

J.T. shrugged as if he’d never taken the time to ask the question, nor did he care. “It was fun. We went out for beers afterward. Good times.” He eyed her with interest. “You mean to tell me you’ve never done something simply for the thrill factor?”

“My idea of a thrill does not involve the potential of bodily injury.” Hope made her way gingerly from the rocks toward the bank. Turning to watch him as he followed, and trying to keep from staring at his perfectly molded physique, she added, “Besides, I find scientific discovery thrilling. You may not realize this, but a lab can be filled with excitement.”

He laughed at her claim, but when she cast him a sharp look, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll take your word for it.” He maneuvered around her, holding his hand out to help her navigate the final rock.

Hope slipped and he yanked her into his arms before she could land on her behind. Sheltered in the warm cove of his arms, Hope had a hard time remembering why it wasn’t completely natural to be cozied up to J.T. as if they were a newlywed couple enjoying an exotic honeymoon.

“Thank you,” she murmured, intensely aware of how wonderful it felt to be pressed against all that solid muscle and just how long it’d been since she’d enjoyed the company of the opposite sex.

Hope gazed up at him, unable to break eye contact, even though she knew she should. “Extreme situations often cause an emotional response to the opposite sex that could be misconstrued as attraction,” she explained, not only for his benefit, but for her own.

One dark eyebrow went up. “Are you feeling a misplaced attraction, Dr. Larsen?”

God, yes. “N-no, I was just saying...in case you’re feeling something...that it could be a false notion.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You can let me go now.” But please don’t. Heaven help her, she wanted to do something reckless. Maybe it was the whole falling-off-a-cliff thing that was messing with her head, but it was really hard to ignore the overwhelming urge to seal her lips to his, if only to celebrate that they’d freaking survived what should’ve killed them.

“Those guys were shooting at us,” Hope said, shuddering. “If we hadn’t jumped...”

“Yeah, best not to think about that. Besides, we made it. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Good idea.”

Their lips were inches away from touching. It would be so easy to close the distance. His arms felt warm and secure tucked around her, their bodies fitting together almost perfectly.

“You’re a good guy to have around in a crisis,” she murmured.

“And you bring trouble,” he countered with a sexy grin. “Good thing I like that about you.”

Don’t kiss him. Don’t confuse the adrenaline of the moment with an inappropriate attraction.

The advice was solid, but it took a superhuman effort to disengage her hold around his neck and step away. Leaving the comforting feel of his solid body immediately made her feel vulnerable.

“What kind of snakes are in Mexico? Water snakes? Venomous? Constrictors?” she worried, scanning the dense foliage and the ground for anything that resembled a snake. “That’s all I need, a snake bite to go with this already harrowing experience.”

“I see your precious cargo made the fall, too,” J.T. noted.

She double-checked her bag, breathing a secret sigh of relief when she confirmed that the special carrying case was still locked safely and securely. He frowned as he said, “You know, you could’ve drowned with that thing weighing you down. What’s so special about that cargo that you’re willing to die for it?”

Hope forced a light laugh. “No, no, a deal is a deal. No questions.”

But he wasn’t laughing.

“That was before I was shot at, my plane was ruined and I went over a cliff with nothing more than a prayer. What the hell are you carrying around?”

Take a chance. Tell him. But even as she opened her mouth with the thought, Hope stuffed down the impulse, dismissing it as stupidly reckless—more so than kissing J.T. would’ve been—and switched gears.

She shouldered her pack and offered a sunny smile. “Nope. Best you don’t know. Now, can we get moving? Daylight is wasting.”

“That answer is getting real old,” he growled, running his hands over his head, sending droplets everywhere. “You’re a stubborn thing, you know that?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’?” she shot back coyly, yet her insides trembled with her need to come clean with J.T. Just get the job done. Deliver the virus. Those were the priorities. What did it matter what her hot pilot thought of her? “And yes, I am stubborn. I think it’s one of my best qualities.”

His gaze snagged on her chest area before bouncing away as if scalded. She gasped when she realized how completely see-through her blouse had become. She might as well have been naked. “Oh, goodness,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I didn’t realize...”

“I didn’t take you for a pink-hearts kind of girl,” he teased gruffly, referencing the tiny hearts that dotted the dainty white bra beneath her blouse.