Crash Landing (14 page)

“She sounds like quite a woman, your mother. Must be where you get your spunk.”

She flashed him a tense smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Granting me this chance. I know saving an endangered flower is probably not a big deal to you...”

He looked her squarely in the eye. “Sophia, I appreciate rare and beautiful things.”

Her lips parted and her eyes flared warm and grateful. Had she understood he was talking about her?

She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Let us listen and see if we can hear them coming.”

They worked in silence until they’d made a dozen nooses. They heard noises in the forest, but no human footsteps. Not yet.

“What now?” Gibb asked.

“We set the snares.” She showed him how to set the traps. They had six hidden and set on the jungle floor when they heard the men’s voices.

“They’re coming,” he said. “We have to leave. I’m not going to risk them finding you.”

“The more snares we get—”

“Sophia,” he said firmly, brooking no argument and taking hold of her arm. “Let’s go. Now.”

* * *

T
HEY
HID
AMONG
the vegetation on the opposite side of the clearing from where they’d set the traps.

Sophia rubbed her sweaty palms against her shorts. Humidity plastered her hair to her head. This had to work. If it didn’t work the beautiful orchids would be destroyed. It was probably illogical, this determination to try to save the orchids. Gibb’s plan had been much more rational. Steal the smugglers’ boat while they were stealing the orchids and get away to safety. But that would mean leaving both the orchids and El Diablo vulnerable and she couldn’t do that without making a last ditch effort to stop the thieves.

Her knees were starting to ache from crouching. Where were those orchid thieves? They had a map. What was taking them so long?

Gibb rested a hand on her shoulder and immediately she was soothed. “Patience.”

She shifted her position to kneel on the ground. Her heartbeat throbbed loudly in her ears. The smell of ghost orchids filled the air. Gibb had looked straight at her when he said he appreciated rare and beautiful things. Well, in her eyes, he was the rare and beautiful thing, as rare and beautiful as a ghost orchid, whereas she was as common as a weed.

It was comforting to have him with her. They did make a great team and she was surprised at how easily he’d picked up fashioning noose snares. Gibb Martin was a quick study and she was lucky to have known him.

She wrapped her arms around herself as sadness wrapped her in its damp arms. Soon, this adventure would be over and she and Gibb would return to their own lives and be nothing more to each other than a sweet memory of a short, red-hot affair.
Don’t think about it now. Orchid thieves are coming. Be on guard.

Male voices and the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard. The men were not far away.

“¿Qué crees que sucedió a la gente en el avión?”

Gibb squeezed her arm.

Sophia pressed her lips to his ear, breathed in his masculine scent and whispered, “They’re wondering where we are. If they catch us...”

He slipped his arm around her waist, held her against him, and gave her a look that said
I would die before I let them hurt you.

In front of them, the vegetation parted and the first man appeared. It was the one who had found Gibb’s suit and he was carrying the shotgun.

Ice froze Sophia’s blood.

The man took one look at the orchids, and his eyes widened.
“Ah, la orquídea fantasma!”
he exclaimed.

The other two men appeared carrying the blue plastic tub and the garden spades. They dropped their load and stood staring with their mouths hanging open.

The ghosts were a spectacular sight, but Sophia knew the men were seeing the flowers not for their rare beauty, but for the many dollars they would bring.

The first man settled the shotgun down on top of the blue plastic tub.

Sophia tasted hope. Maybe, just maybe, this loco idea of hers would work. Beside her, Gibb tensed, ready to spring into action.

The three men rushed forward at once, but time seemed to slow curiously. Sophia held her breath.

The first man hit a noose snare seconds before the others. The trap snagged his ankle, and the long end of the vine jerked him upward into the bald cypress where Gibb had secured the other end. Blindsided, the man screamed out.

His buddies whipped around, distress on their faces. The second man stepped backward into another snare noose and he too was flung upward. The two men dangled upside down, blinking and looking confused.

The third man sprang for the shotgun.

This was what Sophia had dreaded, that not all the snares would work and one or more of the men would get away.

Gibb leaped to his feet, charged through the clearing like an enraged bull elephant, letting loose with a frightening war cry.

Caught off guard, Sophia fell backward onto her butt.

The third man grabbed up the gun, pivoted. He was going to shoot Gibb! If Gibb got shot it would be all her fault.

“No!” Sophia screamed.

But Gibb was quicker. Head down, he rammed the man in the kidneys like a linebacker sacking a quarterback. The shotgun flew from the man’s hands.

Sophia didn’t even remember how she’d got there. Raw instinct and emotion must have driven her. One minute she was there on the ground, the next minute she had the shotgun in her hands, and she was standing over the orchid thief, the barrel pressed flat against his belly, one eye closed as she stared down the site.

With a cocky flourish, she threatened,
“No se mueven.”
Don’t move.

13

G
IBB
CHUCKLED
ALL
the way back to the plane as they marched the three wannabe orchid smugglers ahead of them. Again and again, he pictured that priceless moment when Sophia jammed the gun into the thief’s belly and spouted that classic line, her long dark hair swirling around her, her eyes narrowed, her face intense.

She was the coolest woman in the world. What a badass, his little Sophia!

They’d found duct tape amid the orchid harvesting supplies and made good use of it by binding the sullen men’s hands behind their backs. They were none too pleased to have been bested by a woman.

That made Gibb chuckle even more. Don’t mess with the daughter of an orchid-loving mother.

When they arrived at the beach, Gibb made the men get into the boat. Keeping the shotgun pointed at them just in case they got some silly idea about trying to escape, he stepped over to the plane where Sophia was rummaging for her tool kit.

“You were impressively awesome back there,” he told her.

“Not so bad yourself. Head butting the guy.”

“See, proof that we make a good team.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Sophia...” He paused, not sure what he wanted to say.

She took his platinum bracelet from her pocket. “Are you ready for this?”

Was he? Sure, he wanted to get off the island, but once they were on their way, everything would change. This had been a special moment in time and he didn’t want it to end, but it wasn’t reality. They both knew that.

He gulped. Nodded.

“I’ll have to destroy the bracelet. You do understand that.”

“Yes.”

“Just making sure because I know it’s a symbol of your bond with your buddy.”

“I appreciate that.”

She stared deeply into his eyes. “We don’t have to do it, you know? Now that we have the boat.”

His chest tightened. “It would take us much longer to get to Island de Providencia by boat and we would be abandoning your plane.”

“I see.” She looked disappointed, as if she
wanted
to take longer to get to civilization. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on his part.

“See what?”

“You’re still determined to break up your friend’s impending marriage.”

“Yeah,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I am.”

She shook her head.

“What?”

“It all comes down to what you’re willing to sacrifice, doesn’t it?”

Gibb frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Give up the symbol of your brotherhood with Scott.” She dangled the bracelet from her fingers. “Or give up control.”

The scar on his chest twinged. He pressed his knuckles against it. Was she right? Was this all a bid for control on his part?

“Symbol loses,” she said and took a pair of wire cutters from her tool kit and handed them to him. “You do the honors.”

After glancing over at the men in the boat who glowered at him, he set down the shotgun. Gibb gripped the handle of the cutters, slipped the short, sharp blade between the links. Images flashed through his mind of that trip to the Great Barrier Reef. The stingray attack. The pain. Scott’s face blurring as Gibb slipped in and out of consciousness. Then later, when they got their matching bracelets and strapped them on their wrists simultaneously.

To severe the bond or not?

Preserve the bracelet, but by doing so miss the opportunity to stop Scott from making a grave mistake. Or snap the link and hopefully achieve his goal.

His eyes met Sophia’s. She waited patiently. “Are you pretty sure this will work?”

“I think so, but there’s no guarantee.”

You had to take a big risk to gain big, right? Just do it. Just make a decision and act.
That had always been the secret of his success. Why was he waffling now?

Resolutely, Gibb clipped the bracelet.

* * *

I
N
LESS
THAN
an hour, Sophia repaired the rudder cable and they took off from the island. Gibb was back in his suit, although it was a little worse for wear.

They gave the men in the boat water before they left them. When they arrived in Island de Providencia they would send the authorities to apprehend the thieves.

The takeoff was smooth, professional, the rudder patch job made with links from his platinum bracelet worked. But of course, Sophia was both an accomplished pilot and mechanic.

During the short flight, they spoke of nothing important—the clean shower they wanted to take, the good meal they hoped to eat. Sophia mused about getting a new cable put on her rudder. Gibb tried to keep from being obvious when he sneaked glances over at her. God, the woman was stunning in so many ways. Neither one of them spoke about the sexy night they’d spent in the jungle. Already, it seemed so far away.

They landed on Island de Providencia a little after one o’clock on Friday afternoon. Had it really been less than forty-eight hours since they’d left Bosque de Los Dioses? It seemed a lifetime ago.

Sophia headed for the FBO to see if they had a mechanic on duty who might be willing to replace the cable. Before she left, he slipped her a credit card. “To grease the wheels.”

She started to protest, but he balked. “Your plane broke because of me and I said I would cover all expenses. Take it.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank
you.
”

They lingered for a moment, and then she turned and walked inside the building, leaving Gibb with a choice to make. When should he have his private jet come pick him up? At this point, he couldn’t worry about whether spies were tracking his plane or not. Getting a commercial flight out of here would be a logistical nightmare.

The issue was how close did he want to cut it?

He used a cell phone app to calculate the time and distance from Miami, where his corporate jet was hangered, to Island de Providencia. The flight would take four to five hours. He could be in Key West before midnight if he asked his pilot to leave now.

Or...

Just then, Sophia came out of the FBO smiling and waving his credit card.

Or, he could have his pilot pick him up early tomorrow morning and have one last night with Sophia. His heart knocked at the thought.

He pocketed his phone and moved toward her.

Note to self. Buy plenty of condoms.

She hurried over to him.

“Hi.” Gibb smiled back, feeling sappy and romantic.

“Hi,” Sophia answered breathlessly.

“Did you find someone to replace the cable?”

“It seems to be my lucky day. They have a cable that fits my plane and they can install it this afternoon. The credit card you gave me to grease the wheels went a long way. Thank you.”

“I was thinking,” he said, “since we’re both waiting on transportation, after we report the orchid thieves to the police, that maybe we could get a motel room, have a shower, buy some clean clothes, grab a bite to eat...”

“Make love?” she dared.

He lowered his eyelids. “That, too.”

She surprised him by leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

B
Y
7:00
P
.m. that evening they were sitting on the patio of a beachside bungalow drinking rum cocktails with little pink umbrellas in them. Sophia wore a red spaghetti-strap sundress that Gibb had bought at an overpriced tourist boutique and he had on khaki shorts and a blue V-neck T-shirt. They were enjoying the sunset and eating sweet-flesh langostino with their fingers.

She gave him the once over. “I like seeing you this way. Relaxed, unhurried, loose.”

“I have to admit, I like being this way. It’s nice. Being here with you is nice.”

“Ditto.”

They sighed in contented unison. Too bad it couldn’t last forever.

“Mmm,” Sophia said, popping the last langostino into her mouth and licking her fingers. “Beats the heck out of wieners.”

“I don’t know about that. I really enjoyed our campfire cookout.” Playfully, he reached out to run his foot along the back of her calf.

“You know what I keep thinking about?” she murmured.

“What’s that?”

“The box of condoms you bought.”

Gibb’s grin stretched from one side of his face to the other. “Say the word, sweetheart, and I’m there.”

She got to her feet, held her hand out to him. “Word.”

He guided her into the bungalow and they fell into bed like it was the most natural thing ever. There was no awkwardness between them. Everything flowed like they were a couple who had been dancing the tango together every day for fifty years.

Gibb undressed her slowly. Kissing her between each step. Down her arm went one spaghetti strap and he gave her three kisses, one on the lips, and two on the neck.

He went on like this for the longest, loveliest time and then he stopped, took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to him. “Should we talk about this?”

She shrugged. “What is there to say?”

“I thought after everything that has happened we might want to explore the possibility—”

She shook her head. “There is no need to define what we are doing. No need to give it a name. Just be in the moment, Gibb. Enjoy what is in front of us.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“We have tonight. It’s enough. Tomorrow you will fly east and I will fly west. We will go our separate ways.”

“We’ll see each other again. When I return to Bosque de Los Dioses.”

“We should not continue our relationship after tonight. What we had on that island, what we’re about to have on this island, won’t hold up in the light of day. The flame will burn out in the clash of our real worlds. In your heart you know that.” She splayed a palm over his scarred chest. “There is nothing wrong with seizing the moment and sucking every last ounce of pleasure from it and then letting go.”

His eyes glittered in the dim light. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yes,” she lied.

She did not want him to say something that would give her hope, because she knew they were a mismatched pair. Soon enough, he would go back to his hectic world and come to see that the time he’d spent with her was nothing but a lovely interlude. She was okay with that. Just as long as she didn’t have hope that they could be anything more than they already were—temporary lovers.

They looked at each other and the fire rolled over them. The passion they felt for each other could no longer be denied. They finished stripping off their clothes in a mad frenzy, foreplay be damned.

Her bare belly was pressed against his flat, rippled abdomen and his hard erection nudged between her thighs.

An erotic energy zapped through her entire system. His mouth claimed hers while his hand began to explore. His fingers made circles at her navel while his lips teased hers. She closed her eyes, savoring everything.

Then his tongue arrived at the peaks of her jutting breasts. His tongue flicked out to lick over one nipple, while his thumb rubbed the other aching bud.

Her eyes flew open and she lifted her head up off the mattress. She had to see what he was doing to make her feel so good. Her gaze latched on to his lips as she watched him drawing her nipple in and out of his mouth.

His tongue laved her sensitive skin as he suckled her. She writhed against him, trying to push her body into his, needing more. Silken ribbons of fevered sensation unfurled straight to her throbbing sex. Her inner muscles contracted.

“I want to feel you inside me, Gibb. I want you now.”

He reached for the box of condoms resting on the bed, ripped it open, yanked one out, but sent the rest of the packets flying around the room.

“Here, let me.” She took the condom from him with trembling hands and sheathed his hard shaft.

She positioned him, inviting him in.

He moaned low in his throat, a uniquely masculine sound of pleasure and lowered his body down over hers. He was kissing her again, her mouth, her nose, her eyelids, her ears. He was over her and around her and at last, he was inside of her.

“Sophia,” he whispered her name, soft as the ocean waves outside the open window. The one word caressed her ears as he rotated his hips to tease and torment her.

His eyes glowed in a soft light from the tiki torches on the patio shining through the window, his thrusts gentle and slow. He captured her lips, roughly, but lovingly and their mouths clung as he increased the tempo of their mating.

“More,” she begged. “Please more.”

He quickened the pace. Sophia raised her hips, egging him on.

Soon, she could not tell where he began and she ended. No separation. Their connection was absolute and it filled them in every sense.

She all but hummed with joy. Their oneness made her feel strong and resilient. It rippled through her, stoked her desire.

His body stiffened and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in as deep as he could go. Release claimed them both and he called out her name in a low, guttural cry.

Sophia awoke sometime later to find herself cradled in the crook of Gibb’s arm, his hand gently stroking her hair. Her head was nestled against his chest and she could hear the steady thumping of his heart.

Home. It felt like home in his arms.

No. She must not think like that. Could not think like that. It was simply too dangerous.

The urgency of their previous mating had died down and in its place was a gentle softness. His fingers massaged her scalp, sending sweet shivers skipping down her spine.

She traced the ridges of the scar on his chest with a finger. His lips touched her temple and drew a path of kisses down to her cheek.

Immediately her body responded.

“Enjoy,” he murmured, smoothing his palm over her shoulder.

But how could she enjoy when he was running his other hand over her breasts, lightly teasing her nipples? He shifted and his mouth replaced his hand, his tongue sucking gently on her beaded peaks. And there went those exploring fingers, tracing down her midriff and sliding between her thighs.

He didn’t make a misstep. Every stroke took the intensity up a notch. He kissed the underside of her chin, his lips wickedly hot. Then he turned her on her side and placed his hip against her butt. He bent her right leg and edged in closer, positioning himself to sink into her from behind.