Smart and Sexy (18 page)

“A ticket for your next flight to Cabo,” he said.

Bailey rifled through her purse and pulled out the last of her cash and slapped it on the counter.

Noah pushed it away.

Bailey pushed it back.

The airline representative divided a bemused gaze between the two of them. “I can split the cost, fifty-fifty.”

“No.” Noah pushed his card toward the representative while palming Bailey’s cash, which he handed directly to her. “How about the
next
time we fly commercial, you buy,” he suggested.

“But you never fly commercial.”

He smiled. “I know. Come on, let’s do this.” He looked up their gate number, then at the long, long walk they had to make, and sighed. “What do you think the chances are that they’ll serve something more than peanuts on board?”

“Slim to none?” she responded and tipped back her head to look into his face.

And caught him.

He’d been talking to her with a light teasing tone, keeping his touch casual, but though his head was bent close to hers, nothing about the tense, still way he stood was light or teasing as his eyes carefully and thoroughly and continually scanned the area around them.

“Expecting trouble so soon?” she asked softly.

His gaze dipped momentarily to hers. “With you? Always.”

“Noah.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Did you tell Kenny where you were off to before you sentenced your phone to cell hell?”

“No, but it won’t matter. We’re going to the last place the money could be. They’ve been following me; they’ll have figured it out by now. They’ll be watching for me.” The spot between her shoulder blades began to tingle, and she turned around, looking.

No one was paying her any mind at all, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. “You think they’re here, too.”

Noah didn’t say anything to that as they made their way through the line to get past security. Ahead of them, security agents opened up two more lanes, calling out warnings for everyone to remove their shoes, jewelry, and keys. The crowd collectively obeyed with the usual grumbling.

Noah toed off his athletic shoes, stuck them in a bucket, and then handed her an empty bucket to use.

Bailey bent to unstrap and untie her sandals. One of these days she was going to get over her shoe fetish and just buy regular, easy-to-put-on and easy-to-pull-off shoes.

Okay, probably she wasn’t. She carefully set her Nine West sandals in the bucket and watched them move on the conveyor belt until they vanished from sight.

“They’re going to be okay,” Noah said dryly.

She nodded, hoping her underwire bra didn’t set off the alarm as it had the last time she’d flown commercial.

“Sir.” Another uniformed security officer waved Noah to come on through.

Just as he stepped under the metal detector, and just as Bailey was dumping her purse into her gray bucket, she heard the voice calling through the crowd.

“Bailey!”

And everything within her went still.

Kenny
.

Clutching her purse, she whipped around.

Her brother was weaving his way through the crowd, his gaze on her, his face creased into tense lines. “Wait!”

“Bailey,” Noah said urgently from the other side of security. He made a move to come back through, but the security officer stepped in front of Noah. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Bailey!” Kenny yelled again. He was wearing a white button down and trousers, not looking anything like a wanderlust carpenter.

She had no idea how he’d pinpointed her exact location, but the thought terrified her. If
he’d
found her, then the others could, too. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, and before that it had been months, so she wasn’t prepared for the changes he’d undergone.

He’d always been an athlete, albeit a bit of a pampered one. But the muscles he’d refined in basketball, track, and baseball had faded. On top of that, he’d lost weight. His face seemed too thin, almost to the point of gaunt.

Worse, his eyes were hollow, and haunted.

And leveled right on her.

“Excuse me,” he said to the people in his way, pushing past them one at a time, his expression growing more and more desperate. “Excuse me—”

“Hey!” A huge guy who looked as if maybe he was a linebacker for a living, shook his head. “Dude, wait in line like the rest of us.”

“I just need to talk to—”

“A hell to the no,” the linebacker dude said firmly, slapping a hand to Kenny’s chest. “Get in line.”

“Get through security,” Noah said tightly, looking as if he might leap back over the security table, the officer be damned.

“Bailey! Bailey, it’s not what you think!” Kenny shouted, now being held back by a security guard who’d stepped in front of him. “Don’t go!”

She stared at him, throat tight, eyes burning. “I have to. You know I have to.”

“It’s not there. Please. Trust me. You don’t understand—”

Another security guard joined the first, and now she could no longer see Kenny at all.

He wanted her to wait. Possibly so that he could get more men in place.

More men to take her down.

Kill her.

Oh, God, Kenny.

And turning her back, she walked beneath the metal detectors toward a waiting and clearly relieved Noah.

T
hey boarded their plane without any trouble, though in Bailey’s case, she half expected to be held back for being over the weight limit, since she felt so heavy and stressed she could hardly move.

She was bringing Noah back to the place of his personal hell for her own gains.

How could she do that?

Leaning in, he put his mouth to her ear. “You’re thinking so loud over there that I can’t hear the flight attendant’s emergency spiel.”

She managed a smile for him, one that turned more real when he returned it.

“Why don’t you try to sleep?” he murmured. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

True enough. She hadn’t managed to sleep more than a few minutes last night. Although, to be fair, that couldn’t be blamed squarely on this. Nope, she’d burned the midnight oil in Noah’s arms, letting him de-stress her.

Many times.

Yeah, as a stress reliever, Noah Fisher was pretty amazing.

Thinking it, she glanced at him, sitting next to her, his eyes watchful as they rose to altitude and the seat belt signs went off, his body prepared for whatever came his way.

He caught her staring at him and gave her a what’s-up look. Everything about him was focused on her, and in his eyes was the capacity to handle whatever she dished out. Whatever life dished out. Just looking at him made her feel incredibly alive, and shockingly…happy.

When she didn’t say anything, he cocked a brow. He was so inherently male, so unintentionally sexy, she could have laughed, could have thrown her arms around him, could have opened her mouth and told him she was falling, and falling hard, and any of those reactions, or all of them, were real. Utterly and one-hundred-percent real, as nothing else was in her life at the moment.

Oh, boy. The surprising depth of her feelings for this man after what—two days?—completely and totally unnerved her.

How am I going to let him go?

It was going to hurt, more than anything else. Suddenly she needed a moment for her own private little pity party, and she scrambled to unbuckle her seat belt.

“Bailey?”

“Bathroom,” she choked out. “I need the bathroom.” She stumbled over his long, folded legs to get out of the row.

In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. She was in the midst of the biggest nightmare of her life. So what did it say about her that she could fall for him?

Had
fallen for him?

The knock at the door nearly startled her right out of her own skin. “Bailey,” came Noah’s low voice. “Open up.”

Before she could tell him to go away, another voice, a female one, came through the door. “Sir, there’s another bathroom—”

“Yes, thank you, but I’m with her. Bailey, let me in.” This he said directly to the door, not quite as politely.

He was losing his patience.

“Sir,” came the flight attendant’s voice, also losing patience. “I’m afraid that’s against policy. You can’t both go in there.”

Bailey stared at the door, stifling the shocking urge to giggle.

Giggle, in the middle of her personal hell.

But evidently, Noah was not going to give up, because he tried a different tactic. “I know it’s against policy, ma’am, but my wife’s had an incredibly rough day.”

Wait a minute. Wife? Had he just said…
wife?
Bailey turned from the mirror and gaped at the locked door.

“She just lost her father,” Noah was saying. “And her brother, and—”

“Oh, dear,” whispered the attendant. “The poor thing!”

“She’s upset—”

“Of course.” This from the attendant, in a low, commiserating voice. “Does she need anything? A drink, anything?”

“Frankly?” Noah said. “Me. She needs me. In there.”

The attendant apparently agreed because after a short silence, Noah’s voice was back, a low whisper this time, and much closer to the door, almost as if he were kissing it. “Bailey? Let me in before she changes her mind.”

Bailey once again glanced at herself. Her eyes were just a bit wild, as if she was a woman on the run for her life, as if she had a man whose mere voice made her just a little weak, trying to coax her into letting him in—“Noah—”

“Do it.”

She’d no more than pulled back the occupied lever than he’d slipped inside and locked the door again.

She braced herself, but he smiled. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi back.” And then she couldn’t help it; she let out a helpless laugh that sounded so close to a sob she had to clap her hand over her mouth again.

With a finger, he stroked a strand of hair off her face, while never taking his eyes off hers. “How’s it going?”

“Terrific.”

“Uh huh. You going to ever talk to me?”

His hair was falling into his eyes. His shoulders were so broad they blocked out the harsh light. All she could see was his face, a face she’d come to rely on, need, want…

“Bailey?”

Love
. She loved him so much.

“Is this about Kenny?”

No, but as that was also on her mind, it was a fine diversion. “He said it’s not what I think. I don’t know what he meant by that.”

He grimaced. “He’ll say whatever he needs to—”

Bailey didn’t say anything to that. She realized he didn’t want to add to her misery by agreeing that Kenny had to be guilty as hell.

“He said it’s not there,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“How would he know that unless he’d been in contact with the men who’ve been following me?”

“It’s possible he went himself,” Noah said. “Maybe he already got the money, and then outran the others.”

“And kept it?” She paled at that thought even as her heart started a slow, heavy beat. “If they catch him…” Oh, God. Didn’t bear thinking about.
Kenny. God, Kenny, what have you done?

Noah squeezed her hand. “Then there’s the other possibility…”

“Which is?”

“That he doesn’t know where the money is, that he hasn’t found it yet.”

“Then why warn me off?”

He looked at her, and she let out a long breath. “Because he wanted it all for himself,” she whispered, and felt her eyes fill.

Noah looked at her, muttered, “Fuck it,” and pulled her close.

“He won’t be that far behind us,” she said against his chest, voicing her fears out loud as adrenaline kicked into her system. “It won’t take him, or the others, that long to find another flight.”

“No,” he agreed grimly, holding her tight. “We’ll definitely have company. Look, it’s not too late. We can get Brody to come get us, and get Shayne’s brother involved. Get restraining orders, and—”

“And what?” she asked. “The fact is, Alan screwed those guys. Unscrupulous or not, he owes them that money.”

“Fine. The money is theirs. Let
them
find it.”

“Noah—”

“Look, you can’t really believe that even if you manage to find it and hand it over, this whole thing is just going to go away? That they’re going to just let you go?”

She stared at him, then squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face.

He gently lowered her hands, and when she found the courage to open her eyes, he was watching her with that deep, penetrating look that never failed to catch her breath.

“You’re not alone,” he said.

Was it wrong to want to melt into him at that? She was a strong woman who wanted to handle herself and her problems by herself, but…but she ached for him. Needed him in some fundamental way that felt right. Definitely not a concept she was used to. No, she wasn’t alone. She was with a man who’d, so far at least, never let her down.

Never would.

The marvel of that was enough to drop her to her knees, but he was standing so close she couldn’t have dropped anywhere.

“You’re not alone,” he repeated, looking tall, big, fierce.
Gorgeous
. “Say it.”

Her heart kicked it up another gear. And other parts of her body, too. She felt warm, too warm, and…sort of as if her skin was too tight. If he didn’t touch her, she thought, she was going to die. “Noah—”

“Say it, Bailey.”

“I’m not alone,” she whispered, putting a hand to her chest to keep her heart from bursting right out. And then there were the other reactions going on, all erogenous zone-based.

Adrenaline, she told herself. Just sheer adrenaline.

“Now believe it,” he demanded.

“I’m not alone,” she repeated again. “Because I have you.”

He nodded. He had his hands on the sink behind her, on either side of her hips. His arms were bent so that their faces were level, their mouths a mere breath apart.

“So now what?” she managed just a little hoarsely.

“Now…” Nudging her back against the counter, he invaded her space, and everything within her leapt to attention.

He kissed her jaw, sank his teeth into her earlobe, and let out a slow breath in her ear.

She shivered wildly. “We should probably go back to our seats.”

“Yeah. Have you ever made love on a plane?”

“No.” Already breathless, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She’d never made love on a plane. “I never really thought we could—
Oh
,” she murmured as he lifted her onto the narrow counter. Her entire body went on high, hopeful, quivering alert. “Here?”

In answer, he slid his hands to her thighs and pushed them open. Then he stepped between them, slipping his hands beneath her bottom to haul her up against him.

“Okay, here,” she said desperately, and almost before she got the words out, he’d shoved up her skirt, hooked his fingers in her panties, and tugged them down.

“The attendant—” she gasped, but then he’d opened his jeans and pushed inside her in one movement, and talking was beyond her. So was thinking.

He let out a low, raw sound of pure pleasure, and gripping her hips, nearly pulled all the way out.

A soft cry escaped her.

She couldn’t help it, she needed him back in, needed him hot and hard and throbbing inside her, right now, now,
now
.

“Shh,” he said, and covered her mouth with his to ensure it, and then, oh, God, and then he began to move. Suddenly all her fear and anxiety and nerves…everything…went away. Flew away. Her existence went from overwhelmingly complicated to amazingly, shockingly simple.

Just as it always did when she was with him.

How did he do that?

She didn’t know, just held on, bringing his mouth back to hers, letting him and everything he was work its magic.

The approach to Cabo was smooth enough, but Noah found himself white knuckling the armrests regardless. The location was the stuff of his nightmares, made all the worse for being the passenger, with absolutely
no
control.

So much for being over himself.

He needed to work on that.

The pilot banked the aircraft, and Noah caught a good upfront view of the landscape, specifically where he’d fallen out of the sky and hit the desert-like hills.

“Noah?” Bailey was looking at him with concern and regret lining those gorgeous baby blues. “You okay?”

“Perfect.” He felt a drop of sweat run down his temple. “Is it hot in here? I think it’s hot in here.”

Bailey didn’t say a word, just entwined her fingers with his and held on tight.

He found himself pathetically grateful, and for the first time since…well, ever, he wanted to set his head on someone’s shoulders and let go.

Bailey’s shoulders.

Wasn’t that a kick. He wanted to reach out to the woman who was causing him all this grief.

The pilot banked to the other side, just to give everyone a view of the ocean, and Noah’s stomach flipped over and revolted. He’d had that view as well, thank you very much, up close and personal. He didn’t need to see it again.

Jesus
.

Landing anywhere close to this place was never going to be smooth enough for him.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you all right?” This from the female passenger on the other side of his aisle.

“Yes,” he said as lightly as he could through his clenched teeth. Bailey was holding his hand, stroking his arm, and still, still goddamnit, he was sweating. “I’m fine,” he said. “Fine.”

Bailey just kept touching him, and he tried his damnedest to suck it up because he was making her feel even worse about getting him down here, but he just needed a damn moment.

Or two.

When they finally touched down, he resisted the urge to kiss the ground. They made it to the terminal without him further humiliating himself and without any other incident, but Noah had no doubt that
that
streak of luck and fortune would not be lasting long.

Not when Bailey was around.

She was sharp as hell, she made him smile, hell, she made him want to walk around
singing
for crissakes, and she was gorgeous to boot.

No doubt, he had a major thing going for her, but there was no question—she had a knack for bringing the trouble.

He’d been momentarily sidetracked while helping her to join the ranks of the Mile High Club in the airplane bathroom, but now that he was thinking with his head, at least his big one, some of the euphoria from the great sex began to fade.

That they hadn’t been able to put their hands on the so-called hidden money was a bad sign.

Her brother showing up at LAX was a bad sign.

Bad signs all over the place, and it made him feel edgy. He was missing something, something big.

That much he knew.

What he didn’t know for certain was if Bailey was missing it, too, or if she just hadn’t shared it yet.

He hated that thought.

They got through the airport and car rental without seeing any action and were on the road in a beat-up old Blazer, old being the operative word, driving down the main drag, surrounded by the dry salty heat of Cabo, when his cell phone began vibrating. “Fisher,” he answered.

“You’re not skiing, you’re not boinking a ski bunny, and you’re not piloting Trouble-Walking to Cabo. Where the hell are you?” Shayne demanded.

“Do you really want to know?”

“You’re already in Cabo.”

“Bingo.”

“You flew commercial.”

This wasn’t a question, but a statement of disbelief. Noah glanced over at Bailey, who was watching him. She had her window down. The wind was playing havoc with her hair, which she was trying unsuccessfully to hold back. With her arms lifted, attempting to corral her hair into submission, her neck was exposed.