Coffee and Cockpits (13 page)

He pressed his forehead against mine with the barest of brushes before pulling away. “I’ll let you rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll know how long we’re stranded here. For now, good night.”

I pursed my lips, deciding if I should just kiss him and take the responsibility from his hands. But what he said made sense. Our brains were fuddled with the crash. If I kissed him—when I kissed him—it should be with no confusion as to our motives.

Taking a step toward my fale, I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I had to force myself not to bolt up the steps and lock myself in. Instead, I meandered down the pebbled path, and collected my trolley placed by the front door. I stepped inside as Liam waved from his balcony.

Returning his wave, I retreated into my own space and drew the blinds. Just knowing Liam was so close teased and bedazzled me. He proved level-headed in an emergency, and my instincts screamed he could protect me from anything. I didn’t want to think—‘he big alpha male and can protect me’—but I couldn’t deny the thread of contentment knowing I was safe when he was around. It was soothing but exciting all at once.

The only problem was the moment I was in the room with solitude and silence my body craved a pulsing beat and rhythm. Sitting in a quiet room wasn’t going to cut it. No matter how gorgeous the understated elegance of island décor was. The furniture was hand-tooled, the carpets hand-woven. The roof was vaulted with sprigs of grass sprouting here and there.

Dang namit, I wish I didn’t have to give into the need, but I’d never sleep otherwise.

Quickly striping from my uniform, I dumped it all on the floor and opened the envelope of cash. It was double the normal amount. A bit of island shopping would be in the cards if we were still here tomorrow. I supposed the airline felt rather guilty for letting their crew fly a faulty plane. Then again, until the exam of the aircraft came back, we wouldn’t know what caused the crash. 

Inside the cash envelope was a letter addressed to all of us. I moved to the mosquito-net draped bed and opened it.

Circumstances of KA93 from Auckland to Samoa.

Due to an unknown problem, flight KA93 suffered electrical malfunctions, and landing gear failed to engage which resulted in an emergency landing at 1700 hours.

The crew: Nina Poppins, Joslyn Duncan, Samantha Wiggins, and pilots: Liam Mikin and Captain John Anderson are assigned rooms at the Lagi Loto until further notice. The aircraft will be entrusted to Samoan International Airport and inspection will be overseen by head engineer Nikolai Rivers.

More information will be forthcoming but will consist of one of these scenarios:

Scenario One:

Crew will wait until Kiwi Air can arrange passage home, either on another service, or on one of their scheduled flights. (Next flight to Samoa is not scheduled until six days from now.)

Scenario Two:

Crew may find their own way off the island and be reimbursed to a realistic dollar value.

I re-read the beginning. Oh my God. Nikolai Rivers was going to be here. I stared at the time. What if he was already here? 

My heart beat faster at the memory of dancing with him in Sydney. If he was here, I might be able to get my fix after all.
You’re using him, Nina
. So what if I was. I needed to purge my nervous energy from today and I refused to entertain the small sliver of guilt at what Liam would say if he knew.

Not wasting another moment, I stripped out of my turquoise blue corset and stockings, and unhooked my garter belt. The last thing to go was my lacy G-string, and it landed on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

The shower was heavenly as I washed away the grime of stress. I bounced on my heels as I blow-dried my hair and applied the usual make-up before slipping into a grey dress with a tight bodice.

After devouring a few of the complimentary biscuits from the minibar, I was out of my fale and charging through the gardens.

* * * * *

The hotel was too big; I found out almost instantly. There were five bars: One poolside, one beachside, one open-air in the lobby with gentle notes of a piano player, and another in the restaurant upstairs. The last one I checked was a little ways from the fales and the threads of island music, flutes, and drums pulled me along, caught in its spell. Sure, my neck prodded me with pain, and I knew I shouldn’t dance with an injury, but so what. I survived a crash. I’d do what I want… within reason.

 I gasped with pleasant surprise when I entered the canopied dance floor. It was all open air. The constant island temperature didn’t require walls.

My skin already had a soft sheen of sweat from the balmy night. Staff smiled when I arrived and a young man bowed. “Drink, milady?”

I laughed. As if. I was no lady. “Milady? I don’t think I’ve been called that before.”

The waiter chuckled too; his black hair twinkled with the red and pink fairy lights from the ceiling. He winked. “A pretty woman like you should be called a lady all the time.”

“Flirt.” I joked back. “You’ve twisted my arm. I don’t normally drink, but I’ll have a Sex on the Beach.” I deserved a bit of alcohol after today.

He raised an eyebrow. “Excellent choice, milady. The beach is just there.” He pointed behind me to the sounds of swishing water on sand in the darkness.

I swatted his arm, disbelieving how bold he was. I could get him into serious trouble for that. I wasn’t angry, though. It was nice to joke and let my guard down.

“I’ll have it in liquid form, please. And a large glass of water.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said in his thick Samoan accent. He headed to the bar to place my order, and I made my way to a vacant table with high stools on the rim of the small dance floor.

The gentle breeze from the ocean fluttered my hair; I wondered briefly if I should put it into a pony tail. If Nikolai was here, it would stick to my back as I grew hot from dancing.

It was as if I summoned him. The instant I thought about him, he appeared on the edge of the dance floor.

I froze.

He scanned the tables. A few guests were strewn around, indulging in conversation or tapping their foot to the mellow beat of music. It took several passes before his eyes settled on me.

His face lit up, then he coughed, wiping away the anticipation glowing in his eyes. He couldn’t fake it. He’d been looking for me, too.

I smiled as he made his way over. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He chuckled, sliding onto the stool opposite me. “I heard you broke a plane.”

The busboy arrived and placed a pink concoction, complete with umbrella and pineapple slice, in front of me. I choked on my sip, unable to hold back my laugh. “You’re blaming me for crashing into paradise?”

He nodded, flicking a messy brown lock from his forehead. “Yep. You’re mischievous. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sabotaged the plane to get me here for a night of dancing.” He winked. “Am I right?”

Stress melted off me, and the last kinks in my neck dissolved. Liam popped into my thoughts interrupting my budding happiness, and guilt subdued me again. Guilt? Why guilt? It wasn’t like I was with Liam—sure my feelings for him were complicated, and we shared a few moments, but beyond that we were strangers. But there was something… some tug telling me he was more than he seemed. 

Refocusing on the present, I took a sip of my drink. “You’ve been looking in every bar in the hotel for me. Don’t deny it; you want to dance with me as much as I want to dance with you.” It didn’t bother me to admit it. There was no shame in dancing. It was pure, undiluted fun.

He slapped his forehead. “My plan has been foiled. Dammit. Was I that obvious?”

I smiled. “Not at all. It’s nice to know someone who likes to get as sweaty as me.”

His eyes changed from hazel to smouldering brown. “Oh, I like getting sweaty all right. And not necessarily on the dance floor.”

My heart fizzled, and I thought it safer to ignore his comment. I downed my Sex on the Beach and stood. “Should we get the show on the road and ask them to turn on some proper music?”

Nikolai jumped off his stool, cracking his knuckles. “Leave it to me. If they don’t have what we need, I do.” He pulled a flash drive from his black jeans, looking very pleased with himself.

I resisted the urge to clap. That had been a concern of mine. We were willing to dance, but if the music wasn’t right, it would’ve all been for nothing.

I tried not to gawk at Nikolai’s figure as he walked to the bartender and struck up conversation. He was well-built with sweeping back muscles hiding beneath a loose green t-shirt. I couldn’t help comparing him to Liam. Liam was bigger in broadness and height. Nikolai was swift and toned—a dancer’s body. But there was something untamed about him that hinted at rule-breaking and naughtiness.

A few laughs and a slap on the back later, the music changed from island sway to Salsa heat. Every nerve ending in my body sprang to attention; my feet tapped in rhythm. It began in my toes, trickled to my ankles, and crept up my calves. Inch by bodily inch, I became alive until my senses were smothered in Salsa notes. 

Ah, this was what I needed.

What I wanted.

Liam’s heated look outside my fale distracted me, but I pushed it away. Liam was dangerous—provocative and tantalizing. I could easily get swept away with lust.
Don’t deny he means more to you than that, Nina.
I shied away from the thought. Could I afford to let my emotions be involved? Sure, I’d promised myself to sample every experience, but letting my tender heart break free from its self-imposed prison and get drunk on the anticipation of love again—it asked a lot of courage.

Nikolai on the other hand was easy and fun. One night with him would equal burned calories and sweat. Not scorned feelings or tears. I’d take option two any day. Not that I had any calories to burn—a few biscuits didn’t constitute as dinner. I made a note to order something before I went to sleep.

Nikolai came back, holding out his hand. “Ready to shake your tail feathers?”

I looked behind me, pretending surprise. “Feathers? I don’t have feathers.”

He reached around and pinched my butt.

I slapped his hand away. He captured it instead, laughing. “Was that a yes?”

“If you keep your hands off my butt, then yes.” I cringed at how excited my voice was. I hoped the crew were so knackered no one left their rooms. I wanted to purge myself on the dance floor. To let loose with Nikolai. Dancing was private; I didn’t want my colleagues to see.

Nikolai jerked his hand and the inertia spun me onto the dance floor. My dress fluttered around my legs, and I relaxed for the first time since I boarded the plane.

My heart was high in my chest thrumming with the beat, and my hips swayed to the tempo. I didn’t want safe and virginal tonight. I wanted fierce, passionate dancing. Something that left me panting and my feet screaming in my heels.

I think Nikolai felt the same. The look he gave me wasn’t tame like it was last night. His jaw was set, eyes trained on my lips. He grinned tightly, showing perfect, white teeth. He tugged me to slam against his chest; musky body spray and freshness encased me.

His hot hand branded my lower back as he pulled me even tighter. We moved straight into a Merengue sway. My thighs burned as I followed his lead. My mouth parted as areas of our bodies brushed.

I didn’t know this man, at all. And I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to. All I needed from him was a good swing.

As the music melted into me, I tried to place the beat. It wasn’t one I’d heard—a Lambada but with an island undercurrent. It conjured images of palm trees and teal oceans mixed with Mardi Gras and mayhem from Rio de Janeiro.           

Nikolai didn’t let up the pace and spun me countless times, occasionally hooking my leg over his hip to grind to the beat.

I was in my element, laughing sultrily as he bent me backwards, running a hand down my throat, chest, and stomach as I dipped. His fingertips left a trail of fire in their wake.

The songs all merged into one, and we were both panting hard by the time we stopped for water.

The guests and wait staff clapped as we took our seats. I was so caught up in the song, I hadn’t noticed we were the only ones on the dance floor. Oops.

“You’re a great dancer, Nina.” Nikolai said, once he’d chugged back two glasses of water from the bottle we summoned over. “Where did you say you learned again?”

Ah, that was sneaky—asking again. I hadn’t told him the first time when he’d asked.

Wiping my forehead from excess sheen, I answered, “I was lucky enough to catch the eye of an instructor at one of the local dance studios.” Lucky my ass. The prick. “He told me he’d teach me for free if I entered competitions with him. Apparently, I was a natural.” He was a two-timing scoundrel, and I should’ve seen him for what he was and not blinded by the glamour of dancing. I shrugged. “So I accepted.” And got my heart broken. The end.

“Did you dance in a lot of contests?” Nikolai leaned forward, his elbows on the table; the breeze mussed his hair a little.

I dropped my eyes. I didn’t like to brag, but every contest I’d been in, I won. However, I never knew if it was because of my talent or jerk-ex’s. “A few,” I muttered. “My teacher was very good. I was lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. He was right. You
are
a natural. You listen to your body and aren’t afraid to go with the way you’re feeling. To abandon your thoughts and give in to what your body wants. That’s rare to be able to switch off and just… be.”

I blushed, waving to take the limelight off me. “What about you? You’re pretty good yourself. Where did you learn?”

“My family has always danced. My mom taught Salsa part-time at the local school and was in a few competitions, but she stopped when she married my father as she didn’t want to make him jealous.” He laughed. “Of course, then Dad felt guilty she stopped so he learned, even though he had two left feet. They’re a good partnership now.”