Zero Control

“Turbulence. It’ll be fine.”

A sudden stillness settled over her. She sighed deeply and all the air fled her lungs. She felt a million different things at once. Safe, desired, happy, confused. The shock of recognition passed through her. He was a stranger and yet it was as if she’d known him her entire life. How could that be?

In that split second of surprise, she felt as if she’d met her match, identified the other half of life’s jigsaw puzzle. She was like a lost traveler, wandering in a foreign land, who’d stumbled upon a field of flowers indigenous to her homeland. No, not just the flowers of her homeland, but the same glorious mix that once grew in her own backyard. She gave no thought to whether he was friend or foe. Her impulse was simply to rush to the sweet smells of home.

Roxie’s heart surged toward Dougal, and she knew in that moment she’d totally lost all control. How in the hell was she going to pull off corporate espionage when all she could think about was pulling off Dougal Lockhart’s clothes?

“YOU CAN LET GO OF ME NOW,” Roxie said.

Dougal loosened his grip, and she struggled to get to her feet. The plane lurched again sending her right back into his lap, and a small gasp of surprise escaped those perfect pink lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist again. “Maybe you should just sit tight until we get through this turbulence.”

Even as he said it, he had to clench his teeth to fight off his stirring erection. Getting a boner with her on his lap might be totally natural, but he was certain it would alarm her. It alarmed him. He was supposed to be in charge of passenger safety on this plane, not coming on to a guest.

He took a deep breath and immediately inhaled her heavenly scent. Her delicate aroma encircled his nose, played havoc with his brain cells. The fragrance, coupled with her body heat, slicked his mind with desire and he couldn’t think of anything but her.

Bad idea. Okay, no more breathing.

She wriggled in his lap, and Dougal swallowed a groan. This was crazy. He had to put a stop to it. “Um, maybe we should get you back into your seat.”

“But you said—”

“Buckle you down tight. That’s what you need. Buckled down.” Why had he said that? Now he had an image of her, seat belt resting against her lower abdomen, the buckle right at the level of her—

Stop it!

Before she could feel the erection he could no longer control, Dougal transferred her quickly into her seat, settled back against his own chair, plucked a glossy magazine from the pouch on the side and plunked it into his lap as camouflage. He prayed she hadn’t spied the overt evidence of his desire. He cast a glance over at her. She stared at him, wide-eyed.

His pulse jumped. Her gaze searched his face for a long moment. Stunning blue eyes, full of innocence. She smiled coyly, lowered her gaze and then turned to look out the window.

What was that look all about?

The plane jerked, shuddered. Several of the other passengers gasped out loud. Roxie splayed a hand at the base of her throat.

He rested a palm on her shoulder. “You hanging in there?”

The tremulous glint in her eyes told him she was frightened, but the firm jut to her chin suggested she was toughing it out. Her vulnerability tugged at him.

“Are you sure it’s just turbulence?” she whispered.

Until Roxie had asked the question, he was almost positive the lurching of the plane was nothing more than turbulence, but now she had aroused his suspicion. Could there be something amiss with the aircraft?

He thought of the death threats Taylor had received. Immediately his mind conjured disturbing scenarios. Taylor had hired him because she feared someone might tamper with the planes, and he’d agree with her that the possibility existed. To that end, he’d been with the pilot when he’d done his preflight check, and Dougal had personally searched the private jet, but he wasn’t a mechanic. An expert saboteur could have rigged something up that neither he nor the pilot had detected.

The plane vibrated.

This time the collective let out more than just gasps.

Concern for passenger safety got Dougal’s mind off his attraction to Roxie and back on his job. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood.

“Is something wrong? You look worried.”

“I’m going to speak with the pilot about the turbulence.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Thank you.” She exhaled an audible sigh.

Dougal made his way up the aisle toward the cockpit. He was forced to pause and brace himself each time the plane pitched like a boat in a tropical squall. He tapped on the cabin door with a coded knock and the copilot let him in.

“Problems?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Something’s wrong with the autopilot,” said the pilot, Nicholas Peters, a heavy-browed, stern-faced man with jowls that hinted at Russian ancestry. “Every time we try to switch over the plane pitches.”

Uneasiness rippled over Dougal. “Any idea what’s causing the glitch?”

Peters frowned, shook his head.

“Do you think someone could have tampered with the autopilot?” Dougal recalled the detailed schematics of the plane’s electrical system that had accompanied the most threatening of Taylor’s letters.

“It’s not likely,” Peters hedged. “I’m ninety-nine-percent sure it’s nothing more than a stuck valve.”

It was that one percent Dougal worried about. The pilot’s reassurance didn’t lessen the thread of anxiety pulling across his shoulder muscles. “Should we turn back?”

“Not necessary,” said the copilot, Jim Donovan. “We can fly manually. We’ve already contacted the control tower and reported the problem. They gave us the thumbs-up to continue on to London. It just means Nick and I’ll have to work a little harder on the transatlantic flight. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

That might be true, but Dougal was calling Taylor when they got to England and having her put a team of mechanics on the Bombardier, just to make sure there’d been no sabotage. Yes, he might be overreacting, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“To keep from alarming the passengers, we’ll blame it on turbulence. I was just about to make the announcement when you came in,” Peters said, and then he hit the button that allowed him to deliver the message throughout the cabin. “Ladies and gentleman, sorry for the bumpy ride. We’ve hit a bit of turbulence, but we’re taking her up a few thousand feet, and all should be clear from here on out, so sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Let me know if anything comes up that needs my input,” Dougal said.

“Will do.” Peters nodded.

Dougal made his way back down the aisle. Roxie looked at him with eyes that could break a man’s heart. He stood there for a moment as if held in place by a wire strung from the middle of his back into the plane’s ceiling, staring back, blood thick as paint chugging through his veins.

“Everything’s okay,” he said, forcing himself to slide into the seat beside her once more and noticing she had a death grip on the armrest. “You can relax.”

Take your own advice, Lockhart.

“Thanks for checking,” she murmured. “I feel better now.” Soft, light, feminine, seductive, she possessed the sexiest speaking voice he’d ever heard.

Do not start that again, stop being so aware of her.

Far easier said than done. She wasn’t the kind of woman you could choose to ignore.

“No problem,” he croaked.

“Not everyone would have taken the trouble to reassure me.”

Dougal could hardly think. Talk about eye candy. Perfectly arched eyebrows the same bewitching ebony shade as her hair. Long, lush lashes. A straight, slender nose with delicate nostrils. Her strawberry colored lips tipped up in a slight smile. Fascinating.