Susan Napier - A Lesson In Seduction

‘No, I’ll be parachuting out halfway there,’ he said drily.

Considering that they were on a non-stop, terminating flight, his sarcasm was justified, but just as Rosalind was appreciating his glimmer of wit he spoiled it by adding ponderously, ‘That was rather reckless of you, cutting it so fine. You could have wasted your ticket.’

‘Nonsense; I had it timed perfectly to the last second,’ she lied airily. ‘When you’ve flown as often as I have you’ll realise that there’s an art to minimising boring waiting times.’

‘Right,’ he murmured, eyeing her flushed complexion, slicked with perspiration from her dash to the plane, and the green shirt which clung in interesting patches to her dampened skin.

Rosalind rummaged in her bag and produced a moistened towelette which she used to blot her face, uttering a sensuous sigh of pleasure as the cooling alcohol evaporated on her hot skin. He was still in his suit, she noticed, although he had removed his jacket and tie as a concession to the heat; his ubiquitous laptop was jammed under his feet. Was he going to work all the way across the South China Sea, the way he had across the Pacific?

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