Free Falling for Mr Wrong by Joanne Dannon

mine, yes?”
    The tyres squealed as Ilan confidently rounded the next bend. He grabbed the borrowed kaffiyeh off his head and tossed it on the empty passenger seat.
    “I think you’ve been watching too many James Bond movies,” Nate said with a grunt.
    Ilan laughed and continued to drive them back to Nate’s hotel.
    Despite the air conditioner pumping out cold air, the back-area was reminiscent of her day at the resort. A trickle of perspiration leisurely made its way down to her spine, her shirt glued to her skin.
    Nate grunted. “Tilly, you have to move.”
    She fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m too heavy?”
    He sucked in a breath. “No, your knees are digging into my thigh.”
    “Well I didn’t complain about your elbow and my rib.”
    “ Sheket , kids!” Ilan’s voice interrupted them.
    Nate’s warm breath brushed her neck and Tilly was sure Ilan had switched the air con from cold to hot.
    “Tilly, you need to get off me.”
    She placed her hands on the floor, on either side of his neck to hoist herself up.
    “You’re doing push ups?”
    She bristled at his incredulous tone. “I’m trying to get up.”
    “How do you expect to get to the seat doing that?” The skin around his jaw tightened.
    Hmm. Good question .
    “Oh, for godsake.” He placed his hands under her armpits, lifting her up before tossing her unceremoniously onto the back seat.
    “Gee, thanks, I think,” she said pulling herself into a seated position.
    Still lying on the car floor, Nate’s teeth gritted. “My leg is stuck.”
    “Your fault for being so tall.” She said all too smugly before securing her seatbelt.
    He gave her a dirty look. “Enjoying yourself?”
    “Yes, thank you.” She could not help the smile that made her lips twitch in amusement.
    Twisting his torso, Nate muttered a couple of obscenities which were directed at his cramped legs. “Can you lift your feet?”
    She lifted the legs, tucking them under bottom. “Better?”
    His face grew a darker shade of red as he shifted inch by inch to raise himself. Despite much huffing and puffing, he seemed to be stuck to the floor. “You need to help me.”
    Actually, she preferred not to. Watching him struggle had given her an enjoyable, visual treat. Muscles bulging, sweat glistening his skin. A girl would have to have rocks in her head not wanting to watch the show.
    Sighing with reluctance, she leaned over to lock wrists. Dismissing the electrical surge shooting up her arm, she tugged hard. He grunted. She grunted.
    With an almighty heave, she pulled him upright before he fell on top of her.
    Courtesy of the rear view mirror Ilan said, “Get a room.”
    “It’s not what you think!” She flushed hotter than the desert sands.
    “I know what I saw.” He gave them a knowing wink before returning his gaze to the road.
    “It’s a little cramped here,” Nate muttered. Using the seat, he leveraged himself up just as Ilan took another sharp turn that would impress professional race car drivers.
    Nate was flung sideways landing onto Tilly.
    “You should be wearing a seatbelt,” she reprimanded, in her best schoolteacher imitation.
    “Like I didn’t know that,” he muttered from clenched teeth before sliding to the other passenger seat.
    She turned towards the window pretending to be interested in the spectacular desert views. Since leaving the hostel, Nate had been a comforting presence, especially with her jangled nerves over the reporters discovering her. How had they? Nate’s warm breath caressed her neck whilst whispering reassuring words during their Great Escape making her forget about the men chasing her for the story. Again, for a few minutes she was a young woman having fun, on holidays, away from the stress of the past.
    His solid presence, holding her close, had been enough to wave away the apprehension swirling in her belly. Once they had passed the hostel’s gates, Tilly had barely considered the reporters. Her focus revolved around the cosy