His Flight Plan Read online

  “Me with none of my stuff.” She shook her head, too exhausted to say anymore.

  “I’m sorry. What I can do for you—”

  She held a palm up halting his speech. “Are your next words going to end with this way to your flight to Salt Lake City?”

  He chuckled. “No, Miss Stanfield.”

  “Then save it. I’m done with special offers from your airlines.” Reaching over the counter she took her baggage claim slip, then turned and walked out. To her there was nothing else needing to be said. She might as well get to the hotel and sleep.

  * * * *

  “Hey, Twan, how’s it going?”

  “It’s O’Hare…crazy as hell, Drake.” Antwan lifted a suitcase from the stopped carousel and carried it to his claims office.

  “That’s too true.” Drake followed his friend. The two of them had been friends for years. First high school and then attending the same community college, as their family finances hadn’t offered much of a chance of four-year college. Besides, Drake had always wanted to be a mechanic. So a university wouldn’t have done him any good to attend.

  “I saw you all have another plane down.”

  Drake leaned against the wall across from where Antwan was working at his counter. “Hell, yes. The part is scheduled to come in on the next flight. But the bird won’t go out until tomorrow. If these customers knew how shitty these planes were for this airline they’d never board them. I’m amazed they stay up.”

  “That’s because they hire damn good mechanics that can put Humpty Dumpty back together again.” Antwan pointed at him.

  “Yeah, but it gets old. It’s been eight years now with this company since I signed on. You remember then, before the recession, before cutbacks on everything.” He tipped his head back, giving it a little bang against the wall. “Now it’s just frustrating as hell. I bust my ass, just to make sure the planes remain airborne. Because if one of them drops out of the sky…”

  “The CEO will be looking for any mechanical error to pin it on.”

  He shot a look at his friend. “Damn right. Not on my watch.” Drake had been crew mid-shift manager for four years and he only worked with the best on his team. He always ensured every one of his members stayed up on their training, both mandatory and voluntary. All he could do was hope that things he had in the works would pan out…soon.

  Antwan went out and brought back two more suitcases.

  “What time are you getting off tonight? You feel like a beer over at the sports bar?”

  “I wish, man. I’m working a double. I don’t get off until three.” Antwan hissed out a breath.

  “Lyle again?” Drake shoved away from the wall.

  “Hell, yes. That man is just like the planes, can’t work for one damn reason or another. They need to fire him, but he’s the hub manager’s nephew.”

  “Family connections of the rich.” Just another example of the politics they had to deal with for the airline, Drake thought with disgust. “Well, I’m going to head out and let you get back to work.” He held a hand out to Antwan.

  His friend gripped it, shook and ended it with them bumping shoulders. “Before you go, Drake, I need a favor if you don’t mind.”

  “What’s that?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark blue uniform pants.

  “There was this customer.” Antwan shook his head, his brow tightening. “I felt sorry for her. Amway Continental has given her one hell of a day. By the time I saw her she’d been at the airport for over eight hours. She was on that last mechanical situation.”

  “Ah. Where is she now?”

  “At the hotel, doesn’t leave out until tomorrow. But her bags left without her and she had nothing but her purse and laptop case. I tried to give her the complimentary toiletry bag. However, she wouldn’t even let me get that far, she just walked out.” He held up the green and white bag with the airline logo on it.

  “Antwan the sensitive. She must have been a looker,” Drake teased, knowing his friend had been happily married for three years and never even considered cheating on his wife.

  “She could look like a boot, man, and I’d still feel that no one should have a day like she’s had.” Antwan placed the bag on the counter. “You mind delivering that to her on your way home? I’d take it, but like I said…I’m stuck here.”

  “Sure. Since I’m headed home instead of to a bar with my friend,” Drake joked. “What’s her name?”

  “Kiera Stanfield.” Antwan tapped the bag. “I owe you one.”

  “To hell with that. You owe me two. I was going to make your ass buy tonight.” He backed up toward the door.

  “What? Why?”

  “You recall the Cleveland and L.A. game? Your ass lost. Lakers got beat. That means you owe me a beer.” Drake pointed at his friend and smiled.

  “Damn. That’s right.” Antwan laughed. “Don’t forget the bag.”

  Drake shook his head. “If her day has been as bad as you say, she deserves better items than that bargain crap in that bag.” Smacking the doorframe, he headed out.

  “Thanks,” his friend shouted behind him.

  Giving him a thumbs-up over his shoulder, Drake continued toward the employee door that would let him out closer to his car. He’d take care of the stop for his friend, then get home and hopefully catch the game he had recorded from Thursday night. Not the end of day relaxation he was looking for, but it would do.

  Chapter Two

  Kiera heard the knock on the door just as she got off the phone with Brigitte, telling her about the luggage situation. Glancing at the door, she wished she had placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob. However, since no one but her best friend knew she was here it most likely was the hotel and they would knock anyway.

  Getting up from the desk where she had her cell phone plugged in, she crossed to the door. The way her day was going they probably were here to tell her the room had been double booked and she had to go. Checking the peephole, she saw the side profile of a man in some sort of utility uniform. Frowning, she left the latch on the door as she pulled it open.

  She’d seen enough murder and suspense movies where a poser shoved the door open and attacked a helpless, stupid woman. That wouldn’t be her.

  Peering through the crack the thick, gold bar allowed she stared at the man, barely seeing more than a sliver of his features. “Can I help you?”

  “Miss Stanfield?” His voice had a low, husky timbre.

  Nice and unique, she couldn’t help herself from thinking. It reminded her of Matthew McConaughey without the Southern drawl. He could be related to the movie star with his sandy brown hair and the strong chiseled features she could see.

  “Who’s asking?”

  His smile was only one-sided. However, even through the narrow crack it caused her stomach muscles to contract.

  “I’m Drake Rhine from Amway Continental Airlines.”

  Lifting an eyebrow she looked him up and down. “You don’t look like an agent.”

  “I’m not. I’m one of their mechanic managers,” he declared.

  “Unless you’re here to tell me you’ve put that plane back together and I can leave this town, I don’t want to hear from you all.”

  “Afraid no—”

  Hearing enough, she started to close the door.

  “Wait! Antwan Worley sent me. The baggage guy.” He placed his hand against the door, keeping it open. A bag dangled from his clenched fingers.

  Recalling the name on the nice man’s tag at the airport, she pulled the door back as far as the latch offered and waited.

  “He’s a good friend of mine.” The man who said his name was Drake lowered his hand back to his side. “Antwan was concerned about you not having anything tonight and he never got a chance to give you the complimentary airline overnight kit.”

  She glanced down at the bag at his wrist. “So you say, but that bag is not marked with the airline logo.”

  His smile encompassed both corners of his mouth this time
and there was a small twinkle in the one gray eye she could see. “True.”

  If she thought his voice did a number on her, his smile made her heart race. This man had too much appeal, making her not trust him even more. Hell, all serial killers were good-looking, nice men—Ted Bundy was a great case in point.

  “To be honest, the stuff we give out to customers is cheap. I just thought you’d prefer at least something that would hold up longer than brushing four teeth.” He paused, his face going serious. “Unless you only have four teeth and I’ll go back and get the other stuff. I don’t want to offend you.”

  The staid look didn’t fool her for a moment since the humor lighting his eyes never went away.

  “No worries. I have all thirty-two I’m supposed to, minus my wisdom teeth.” She bit into her bottom lip, trying to keep from smiling.

  He waved the bag back and forth. “I also grabbed you chocolate bars, one dark and one milk. Not sure which you preferred.”

  Chocolate was her weakness. Pushing the door shut, she removed the latch, then pulled it back open. “Two strikes. I like white chocolate.”

  His smile returned. Seeing it fully as she stared into his handsome face, she almost swallowed her tongue. The man had to be six three to her five eight. He had a set of killer shoulders that filled out his uniform shirt completely. He probably could have used the next size up, even though the buttons weren’t stretching. This man, with the embroidered nametag with DRAKE and Mechanic Manager beneath it was her idea of delicious white chocolate.

  And that’s what caused her to freak a little. She hoped he didn’t think she was flirting with him by her comment.

  He snapped his fingers. “I should have gone with all three.”

  “Thanks anyway.” She took the bag he offered her. “I appreciate your friend’s thoughtfulness.”

  “Besides the toothbrush and candy there are a few other travel-size things that should get you through the night and morning.” His gaze perused her body, then returned to her face. The twinkle had diminished some by the admiring tilt of his head. “I picked up a nightgown too, nothing fancy. I figured you needed something to sleep in, but I’m sorry to say I misjudged the size by a lot.”

  She was a curvy girl, so she took his words as a compliment. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “Remember that when you see it.” Those steel blue eyes held hers.

  Smiling, she nodded. “Thanks again.” She gripped the door handle.

  There was a long pause between them; nothing more needed to be said.

  Drake turned and started away, then stopped. He faced her again. “Can I buy you a drink?” He held his hand up. “It can be coffee or tea, before you think I’m trying to get you drunk.”

  Laughing, she folded her arms under her breasts. “What I think is that you’re trying to make sure I don’t make a complaint.”

  “Do what you feel you need to, I don’t have a thought on that one way or the other. However, I figured maybe with the night still being early you might have a little free time in a strange city.”

  Squeezing the door handle, she concentrated on the cool metal in her grip instead of the sexy man before her. This was where she always found herself in trouble. Hardworking, everyday men always caused her insides to go to mush. And good-looking ones to boot. True, this man wasn’t a starving artist like most of the men she dated, but she was sure there would turn out to be something lacking in him—financial or in character. There always was for the men she ended up with.

  “What do you say?”

  “I probably shouldn’t. I don’t do so well in Chicago cold.” She stared down at his black scuffed work boots, trying to keep her gaze off the defined lines of his face and his fit body barely concealed beneath his uniform.

  “You don’t even have to leave the hotel. They have a great restaurant downstairs. I’m sure there wasn’t much in the way of food offered to you on the plane. And the terminal your flight was located in is at the end of a long concourse and there are no restaurants or even kiosks down there. I know.”

  The sureness of his voice drew her eyes back to his face.

  If those sexy gray eyes could be pleading, they were at that moment.

  She smiled, but was still convinced she should just hole up in her room instead of giving in. However, her stomach chose that moment to remind her that the half sandwich she’d eaten on the plane from Charlotte at eleven with her glass of wine that afternoon was long gone.

  Hearing the loud rumble, Drake tilted his head back and chuckled.

  Damn, how could a man’s throat muscles turn me on? But she couldn’t pull her gaze away. She wanted to lick along the side of the tendons and veins. Inhaling, she tried to get her hormones under control.

  “Well, I have your stomach’s vote, now how about you?”

  “Fine.” Why fight it? It was just dinner and a drink in the safety of a public place. She could afford to spend an hour with a nice guy and then return to her hotel room alone. One-night stands were not her thing, so she wasn’t worried that she wanted to drag him back upstairs and jump his bones.

  Her sex pulsed with the beat of her heart. It had been way too long since she had something hard working between her thighs besides her vibrator. Which was in her suitcase at the Salt Lake City airport. But, she’d just have to deal with the present ache by not dealing with it.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  She realized she’d just been standing there staring at him. “Give me a few minutes.”

  He nodded.

  Closing the door, she tossed the bag on the bed and looked into the mirror over the desk where her laptop case sat, still not opened. She looked tired and a little washed out, but not a fright. Getting her purse from the bed she dug out some lip gloss and refreshed the faded color, then took out her compact and swiped at the shine of oil around her nose and forehead. Unlike her mother, she didn’t wear heavy amounts of makeup, but she still believed there was nothing wrong with a little enhancement for a woman. Fingering her tight coils, making sure they had not flattened out too bad from her travels, she considered her reflection.

  If she had been home, she would have slipped on a cute dress and heels. But, having to settle for her only outfit besides the mystery pajamas in the bag, she removed her blazer and decided to go with a casual look, especially since they were not headed outside. Her teal shell complimented her complexion and black slacks fine. She hoped the restaurant wasn’t too chilly.

  With nothing else to do, she unplugged her cell phone, then placed it in her purse and walked to the door, to her not-a-date dinner companion.

  * * * *

  Damn. That was all Drake could repeat to himself from the moment she opened the door, and even now after they both had ordered and were sitting in the semi-crowded restaurant.

  The deep-sienna beauty across from him was breathtaking. Not because of any fancy clothes, even though he could tell what she wore was of high quality, but there was something about her. She had a great sense of humor and a smile that could knock a man back on his heels. He couldn’t even begin to start on her shape. He loved a woman with a healthy amount of curves. And Kiera had the perfect hourglass shape.

  Now, that he’d seen her, he felt foolish about the balloon nightgown he’d picked up for her. It would be huge. He wished he’d chosen something a little sexier instead of conservative. Tonight, he’d like to head home and imagine what she would look like in a lacy number that conformed to her large breasts and full hips.

  She met his gaze across the table. Her eyes were hazel with more green than brown. Twenty minutes ago when she’d cracked the door open and a single eye had stared at him, assessing, he wanted to shove at the door just to see the other one. However, he was pretty sure that would have freaked her out and she’d have slammed the door and probably called the police.

  He liked the fact she was smart and cautious. He had expected any moment for her to have asked him to slide his identification beneath the door. A woman cou
ld not be too careful.

  “Tell me about yourself.” He wanted to hear that sultry voice of hers again.

  “There’s not much to tell.” She dragged her glass of water closer to her but didn’t drink from it.

  “I’m sure that’s not the truth.” He watched her lift one shoulder and let it down slowly. “Why are you headed to Salt Lake City?”

  She glanced off in the distance before returning her gaze to him. “I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with the CEO of the Boys and Girls Club of America. Even though the headquarters is in Atlanta, just three hours from me, he spends a lot of his time traveling around the country. He offered me time on his schedule while he was in Utah. I took it. Now…” Her voice drifted away.

  “So, you’re still not going to make it when you get in tomorrow.”

  “If there are no more delays and now that I’ve switched airlines. Uh…no offense.”

  He raised a hand to halt her apology. “None taken, believe me. I think you made the right choice if another company can get you there on time.”

  Lifting her water, she sipped. “I’m crossing my fingers and toes. I’d do my eyes too but I need to be able to get where I’m going.”

  “Very true.” He smiled. “May I ask why you want to meet with him? Charity, volunteer work, or something?”

  “No. I run a community center.”

  “You do? Impressive.”

  “Be more impressed because I started it from scratch.” She tilted her head, a saucy smile on her lips.

  “Wow. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a community center worker.”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”

  The waiter chose that moment to arrive with their meals and wine. The man set tilapia and rice pilaf with a side of asparagus before Kiera.

  “Be careful, sir, your plate is hot.” He placed a sizzling oval-shaped cast-iron skillet down with a steak topped with mushrooms and a side of asparagus and a sweet potato. After pouring red wine for him and white for her, the waiter left them to their meal.