Zena Valentine - Star-Crossed Lovers

Still, she didn’t think she could bear to tell Kale and risk losing Amanda to the Caldwells’ archenemies.

Whatever action she took or didn’t take in the matter, the truth might eventually be revealed now that Kale was a regular customer, and if it was, all of them were going to be hurt in some way. Better, she thought, to determine how close Kale was to figuring things out. If he should discover Paul was Amanda’s father, his accusations and bitterness were likely to curdle the air. And she wouldn’t blame him.

She disliked working on accounts payable, and when she caught herself writing the wrong amount on a check, she ceased her efforts, and stared out the window at the nice flurry of activity on her airfield.

In spite of the uncomfortable heat, people were coming to fly airplanes, their own that were hangared there and hers that they rented. She saw her sleek six-passenger aircraft turn from downwind to base leg and knew that Harry, her part-time pilot, was returning with officers from one of the corporations that regularly used her flight service.

There was a line of three planes at the gas pump occupying Chaz.

She put away her books and went down to the counter.

She wandered into the lounge to visit with the men who sat around because they loved flying and at the moment had nowhere to go. Sometimes there were a few women around, too, but seldom.

There was no profit in idle pilots sitting around the lounge, but Jessi encouraged it nonetheless, as Rollie had, because she liked the camaraderie. She liked to hear the old-timers talk about tail draggers and tease the younger pilots about the minimal skills required nowadays to fly “tricycles.”

Being a pilot made you a part of a special fellowship. She had felt it the first time she set foot in Rollie’s lounge, and she had known immediately that she wanted to be a part of it. After her first ride aloft, she recognized that a whole new world had been opened to her, a world she was born to.

At times like this she missed Rollie, whose devotion to flying and his friends had left a gaping hole in her life.

And then she felt a bite of guilt because in recent days her thoughts of Rollie had been insidiously replaced by thoughts of Kale Noble, who, as Chaz fantasized, was bedeviling her.

She grinned when he came through the door, having handed off his briefcase to Phil, and the words fell from her lips, “Well, just think about the devil and.”

He eyed her from where he stood by the counter, his white cotton shirt stained with sweat and fine splatters of mud. His black hair was blown out of its natural waves, and strands were plastered to his gleaming skin. He looked rugged and earthy, sensual and elegant.

She stared at him from the lounge. He ran a hand over his ruffled hair and headed for the rest room. When he emerged, the mud splatters were less evident, his face was clean and his hair combed.

“Does that place across the parking lot sell liquor?” he demanded.

“There’s a bar,” she replied.

“Good. Let’s talk there,” he said, reaching out a hand in an impatient gesture to have her join him. He didn’t ask. He just made the decision and expected her to agree.

Well, the talk was her idea and he had reluctantly gone along with it. So let him be high-handed about choosing the site. She had intended to meet in the restaurant anyway.

They walked across the parking lot in awkward silence. She wondered again whether she was doing the right thing, or whether she should keep mum and avoid the risk of triggering further suspicions from Kale.

If her timing would prove to be bad, or if he would lose his temper again and pull her within his body force as he had done before, she would once again find him kindling wild sensations, wrecking her inner balance.

Too late, she recognized she was only dreading the aftermath, not the experience.

Kale ordered a glass of ice water followed by a martini. Jessi ordered lemonade.

“Nothing stronger?” he questioned.

“I’m on call for the chopper tonight,” she explained, not telling him she rarely drank. It interfered with flying. Besides, most of it tasted like caustic medicine, she thought.

“The chopper? On call for what?”

“We have a contract for emergency air ambulance service. One of us is always on call. See?” She tapped the beeper attached to the belt of her shorts.

“So you’re also qualified to fly a helicopter,” he observed.

“Chaz, too. Unfortunately, we’re the only two, and so one or the other of us is always on call, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But we don’t have many calls.”

“You put in a lot of hours,” he murmured, draining the glass of ice water. “So you’re finding there are drawbacks to owning your own business?” He flung the words at her as though it was righteous consequence for her ambition.

“It never seems like too many. I love it,” she replied.

“I feel the same way about my business. I always have, even as a teen. I couldn’t wait to get through engineering school and be a real part of the company.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I remember.” She remembered that his father hadn’t been concerned about Kale’s education, or where he finally found employment. Yet how fortunate he was that he had a son like Kale who could competently take over.

“I didn’t expect as much responsibility as I got, though, or so soon. My father lost interest after Paul’s accident. He always planned that his financial son would actually run the business when he was ready to give it up.” Kale’s voice was low and hard, but she heard every word, all of it familiar facts. “I would simply be chief of engineering when the Noble boys eventually took over.”

He looked up at her, his eyes simmering. “There wasn’t much left of the business by the time I got out of school. My father, well, he has, uh, withdrawn over the years.”

She didn’t know what to reply. It was all so brutal, the consequences of the accident that Charlotte had caused.

Finally, she said, “I was always fond of your father, and I was especially fond of Paul. I’ve thought of them both many times over the years, especially at Christmastime.” Christmas Eve had always been a special time for the Caldwells and Nobles.

His lean dark face took on dramatic shadows in the dimly lit atmosphere, highlighting the rugged lines. He was not overtly accusing, but she felt the guilt nevertheless for the pain her family had caused.

“You must have dedicated much of your life to Noble Engineering for it to be the success it is,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he conceded in little more than a whisper. “Other things have been neglected.”

“No family?”

He hesitated, staring hard into her eyes. “No wife. No chil- dren. Yet. No home in the ‘burbs. I find I don’t even get away on vacation often enough,” he said.

“Where do you go on vacation?” she asked in a desperate attempt to get the conversation into another direction. His lack of family was none of her business, and why should she care anyway?

“The last one was with a, er, friend to the Grand Caymans. I didn’t want to be gone a whole week, but once I was there, a week didn’t seem long enough,” he said, leaning on his elbows, looking at her steadily.

Did he see her reaction? Could he see how his words affected her, sending tiny explosions through her chest? A friend? Well, of course, it had been a woman. She hadn’t seen a wedding ring and assumed he was not married, and now she knew he had never got to the altar at all. But if a woman friend traveled on vacation with him, obviously he was in a serious relationship with her, she concluded.

“I thought you would have married long ago,” she murmured.