High-Stakes Playboy (12 page)

In point of fact she had. And the dream had bordered on mental porn. Even now, her body responded a little in recollection of the things her unconscious had imagined the two of them doing.

“Why, Miss Stringer. Is that a blush I spy blooming upon those rosy cheeks?”

She swatted his arm. “Hush up. It’s not nice to embarrass a lady.”

“I almost came to your room,” he confessed.

The notion galvanized her. All of a sudden, her body was languid in the seat. Hungry. Restless.

Archer’s nostrils flared and his voice dropped into a husky timbre. “Would you have let me in?”

Honesty forced her to mumble, “Uh-huh.”

He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. She knew the feeling. All of a sudden, the air in the cockpit was crackling, charged with sexual energy that all but fried everything and everyone in its path. If the helicopter had a problem today, it was on Archer’s head. He was the one who’d generated this crazy energy field between them. She’d been perfectly prepared to sulk at him through the whole flight. But now she was going to struggle to keep her hands off him and her eyes on her work.

The mechanic stuck his head in Archer’s door without warning, and she jumped about a foot in the air. “Your girl’s ready and waiting to fly for you, Archer.”

The guy backed out and Archer shut the door, laughing a little under his breath. A quick glance at Archer’s crotch showed that he was every bit as turned on as she was. Well. This was going to be an interesting flight.

“Are you safe to fly right now?” she asked him cautiously.

He made a strangled sound somewhere between laughter and a groan. He ground out, “Yeah. I’m good.”

She couldn’t resist getting a little payback and muttered, “I hear you’re better than good.”

“Do tell,” he murmured as he opened his checklist. She smirked as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a second and shifted uncomfortably in his seat before starting running his various checklists. Yup. This flight was going to be very interesting indeed.

* * *

Archer closed his eyes against the lust surging through his groin. He could smell the sweet, needy musk of Marley’s body.
Ready and waiting indeed.

This was madness. He should back away from her. Give some decent guy an opportunity to catch her eye. To make her happy. To treat her the way she ought to be treated. He did not deserve her. His mother and all the other women in his life had seen what a mess he was. Had dropped him like a hot potato. But damned if he didn’t want Marley worse than life.

Sure, he’d been horny and chased after skirts for the easy sex as much as the next guy, but nothing he’d ever felt had prepared him for the way he wanted her all the damned time. This wasn’t simple lust. Every cell in his body hungered for her. It consumed him. Completely.

And he’d
blown
it with her. She had every right to be chippy with him. Sure, he was doing his best to charm her out of her snit. But it was a well-deserved snit nonetheless.

Prescott called out across the ramp on a megaphone, “Ten minutes to countdown.”

Work called. “We’ll...talk...later. I have to do a little flying now, sweetheart. I have no intention of crashing and burning until I’ve made things right between us.”

Swear to God, the temperature went up in the cockpit a few degrees as her libido ratcheted up even more. The woman was a sexual volcano waiting to blow.

She nodded and looked for all the word like speech had deserted her.

“Work first, baby. Then play.”

“Promise?”

“Oh, hell, yes.” But the little voice in the back of his head taunted him that he wasn’t the guy for her. And it refused to shut up for even a second, telling him over and over that she wasn’t his sandbox to play in.

She let out a hard, relieved breath that made him laugh reluctantly. He knew the feeling. How in the hell was he going to break it to her—that they couldn’t be lovers—without breaking her heart?

But first, he had to get through this flight.

Without killing them both.

* * *

Marley went through checking out her camera by rote. She was so intoxicated by being close to Archer that she could hardly remember her own name, let alone what she was supposed to do to prep her equipment. He looked as distracted as she was. Of course, he had a flight over another fake combat zone looming before him. A brief vision of that mountainside racing toward them flashed through her head. He’d be all right, wouldn’t he? There wouldn’t be another episode like the last one, would there?

“Archer, the calibration on my camera is off a little. Do I have a minute to jump outside and adjust it before we have to go?”

“Yes. But be quick about it.”

She went outside and knelt in front of the helicopter, adjusting the mount, which must have bent a little in yesterday’s explosion. A movement out of the corner of her eye made her look up. She scowled to see a familiar, hulking form strolling toward her.

“Hey, Gordon,” she said reluctantly.

“You’re not going up with him again, are you?”

“Well, yeah. It’s my job.”

“Can’t you set up your camera to be remote controlled or something?”

She frowned at the big man. “Not really.”

He swore colorfully. “Look. Archer’s a head case. I saw what he did the other day. You shouldn’t fly with him again. He’s gonna get both of you killed.”

Gordon’s warning was a dagger of doubt to her gut, but she still said stoutly, “It’ll be okay. Archer’s a fine pilot. I trust him.”

“With your life?” he asked skeptically. He shrugged. “I tried to warn you. Sorry, babe. Let me know when you’re ready to date a real man.”

“I am dating a real man, thanks.” Lord, it felt good to say that. And even better, it made Gordon scowl and stomp away from her. She might still be furious with Archer, but they were by no means over.

She climbed into the seat beside Archer, feeling a fair bit more charitable toward him after their earlier clash.

He asked tersely, “Was Gordon respectful toward you, or do I have to kick his ass when we land?”

“He was fine. He asked me out on a date—reasonably nicely for him, I might add—and I said no.”

“Persistent bastard.”

She had to give Gordon credit, though. At least he’d been a little concerned about her safety. She had to give Archer credit, too, for making her feel safe and protected, neither of which were sensations she was in the least bit accustomed to. They were nice. Very nice. Most of her remaining irritation at Archer for doubting her drained away. God, she was such a pushover where he was concerned. Either that, or she had fallen a lot harder for him already than she’d realized.

Archer smiled over at her a little as he asked for takeoff clearance, and her heart melted at the gesture. He was trying to act nonchalant about this flight, but his forehead was tight, and lines of stress pulled at the corners of his eyes. And still, he went out of his way to reassure her. He really was a decent guy. Who was she kidding? She’d totally fallen for him. It was a done deal.

As the engine cranked up and the rotor started to turn, she murmured, “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain, darlin’.”

“I’ll be more concerned if you aren’t at least a little tense about this flight, Archer.”

“Okay, fine. I’m a little tense. Happy?”

“Relieved. Just tell me what I can do to help.”

“You get the best camera shots you can. Impress the hell out of Adrian Turnow.”

She reached out to touch his arm and his muscles went rock hard. “We’ll get through this together.”

“It’ll be a low-speed pass down into the valley today,” Archer said a little too calmly. “I’ll slow to a hover beside the Sikorsky and the stunt guys will do their thing. Just so you know, a hover isn’t an easy maneuver. Of course, I happen to be a magnificent pilot and will give you a steady platform for your shot. But if it’s windy or turbulent, we could move around a little.”

“Of course you’re magnificent.” She grinned. “But the inertial stabilizers in my camera mount will compensate for small movements, anyway,” she replied as she glued her face to her viewfinder.

Adrian Turnow handed the conn over to Steve Prescott, and the countdown to special effects commenced. Everybody sounded a little tense over the radios after yesterday’s explosion.

She reported in and duly started filming as the narrow valley came into view in her lens.

“Talk to me, baby,” Archer murmured.

Without lifting her face from her camera, she said, “Could you speed up a little as we head down the head of the valley? It’ll give us a sense of rushing headlong into the battle.”

“Coming up.”

The view moved past a little faster outside. “Perfect.”

“There’s Gordon’s chopper. Big green blob at our eleven o’clock. See it?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, bringing the Huey into focus.

“Do me a favor and flip him the bird when we get close. My hands will be busy on the controls.”

She snorted with laughter. “You got it.”

She zoomed her lens in on Gordon’s aircraft as it swept across her field of view, swooping down aggressively to a few feet off the ground. Stunt men and actors started jumping out of it and into her shot.

“Why doesn’t the helicopter just land to offload the soldiers?” she asked curiously as her camera rolled.

“Land mines.”

Yikes.
“But the soldiers are jumping to the ground. If there’s a mine, they’re gonna trigger it, right?”

“They’re expendable. Helicopters cost a lot of money and are finite resources. Even a few feet of separation above a land mine makes a significant difference in survivability. You saw yesterday how explosions throw helicopters aside without destroying them.”

She shuddered. “That’s pretty cold logic to save the machine but sacrifice the people.”

“That’s war.”

He sounded bitter. But then, she supposed he had a right to. “It must suck being a little cog in a big war machine. Do you ever feel like just a number?”

“Pilots are expensive and finite resources, too. It costs millions to fully train us. Grunts, not so much.”

“Wow. That’s harsh.”

“I never said I agree with that sort of thinking. That’s just how it is.”

The last soldier leaped off the other helicopter and the bird began to rise into the air as she completed her shot. A wash of turbulence slammed into their helicopter and Archer swore under his breath. Minerva rocked violently, and he fought the controls grimly. He’d no more regained control of her than an explosion erupted directly in front of them at a distance of not more than fifty feet. Clods of earth pelted them as a plume of smoke and flames spouted from the earth.

Marley jerked backward, startled badly, even though the explosion had been briefed in this morning’s walk-through of the day’s shoot. Archer lurched nearly as hard as she did. Both of them were jumpy today. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea having the two of them flying together like this after all the mishaps they’d had.

Right. Like it was a better alternative to spread the jinx around to all the other pilots, too. She really needed to seriously consider quitting this job. She would in a heartbeat if it wouldn’t wreck her career and any chance of her ever breaking into film cinematography.

It wasn’t like she had her overnight camera-operator job to go back to. She’d gone all in and resigned that position when she took this job. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But she was well and truly stuck now. She had to see this movie through no matter what accidents erupted around her. Besides, it wasn’t like she was going to do anything that took her away from Archer. Even if it killed her.

Now all that remained to be seen was whether or not she would be fired because of the damned jinx...and whether or not Archer would survive the curse that clung to her regarding men.

Blessedly, the remainder of the flight went uneventfully. They returned to base and she left Archer to refuel the helicopter and put Minerva to bed while she headed back to the motel. Separate vehicles seemed to be a good idea at the moment, given yesterday’s disastrous trip back to town and the SUV that had nearly run them off the mountain.

She strolled toward the bus stop where the crew bus would eventually arrive. But before it could show up, a big Jeep pulled up with two other guys in it. Gordon Trapowski was at the wheel.

“Heading back to the motel?” he asked civilly enough.

She nodded.

“Get in. We’re headed back to the studio. I’ve got time to make a quick run that way and make it over to the soundstage to rehearse my stunt sequence.”

With the other guys in the vehicle, too, she was inclined to take him up on the offer. Sometimes the crew bus took up to an hour to make a single circuit of the sprawling movie set. Besides, maybe she could get some more out of him about Archer’s last military mission.

The guy in the passenger seat hopped in the back and she took his place beside Gordon, who wasted no time demanding, “Archer flip out on you again?”

“Again?”

“He ’bout ran you into the side of a mountain a few days ago. He still pulling weird stuff like that on you? Just say the word and I’ll get his ass grounded.”

“No. He’s fine,” she blurted in alarm. “Just fine.”

Trapowski looked over at her shrewdly. “You sure? Don’t protect him if he needs to be put down. Not only will he get you killed, but it’s bad for him not to take time off if he needs to.”

Even if he did make Archer sound like a rabid dog, Gordon did make a valid point. Still, she felt deeply uncomfortable talking about Archer behind his back, particularly with a known enemy of Archer’s.

“Do you know anything about the kind of flying Archer was doing right before he came home?” she asked Gordon.

He puffed up importantly. “Yeah. Sure. I know all about military flying.”

“Can you tell me anything about his flying overseas?”

“Nah. That’s classified.”

She was half inclined to believe he didn’t know anything and was using the whole classified bit as a cover-up.

“I can tell you one thing about that bastard, though. He ain’t all together up here.” Gordon tapped on the side of his head.