Free Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll by Mia Dymond Page A

swallowed hard before she forced her brain to process
what she’d agreed to. Her spontaneity was now officially out of
control. She moved her gaze to rest on several swiveling chairs in
the center bolted to the plane’s belly and decided the one in the
middle would be the better choice. If the plane were to crash,
being sandwiched between Hawke and Max just might cushion the blow.
And really, what a way to go.
    Rachel forced thoughts of tangled metal out
of her brain while she melted into the buttery leather seat,
snapped the silver seatbelt across her lap, and silently said a
prayer. While she made several, mental, life-altering promises,
Hawke and Max settled into the neighboring seats.
    She caught Hawke’s frown out of the corner of
her eye. “Are you nervous?”
    Rachel bit her lip. Terrified . “Not
really. Airplanes have the lowest death rate per one hundred
million miles of travel.”
    Hawke glanced at Max. “Did you know
that?”
    Max nodded. “I also know that if this plane
does crash, we don’t have anything to worry about until we get
ready to land.” He grinned at Rachel. “Forty five percent of
crashes happen on landing.”
    Rachel couldn’t stop the smile that split her
lips. The delectable Max was a closet-case nerd.
    Hawke shifted in his seat. “I vote we talk
about something other than plane crashes.”
    “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,”
Rachel mumbled.
    “Don’t be.” Hawke dismissed her with a wave
of his hand. “I spend a lot of time in the air.”
    Max pushed himself out of his chair. “No need
to mention what you do up here.”
    Hawke’s eyes widened and Rachel stifled a
giggle. The warm feeling of camaraderie between the two men took
the place of fright for a few brief seconds. And then the plane’s
engine roared to life. Rachel grasped the armrest until her
knuckles turned white.
    Max nodded toward the nose of the plane.
“I’ll be up front.”
    Hawke turned in his seat to face her.
“Rachel, have you flown before?”
    She gave him a weak smile, one she hoped
would disguise her terror. “Once or twice,” she managed to say. “I
don’t get out much.”
    “How about a drink?”
    She gave him her best yeah, right look. Didn’t he remember how well she held her liquor? “No, thank
you. I’ll be fine, really. I brought a magazine to distract
me.”
    Rachel leaned forward to pull her
Architectural Digest out of her bag just as the plane lurched. The
breath left her lungs in a whoosh as the seatbelt gave her stomach
a nice sucker punch.
    “On second thought,” she said as she braced
herself back against the seat and squeezed her eyes closed, “I’ll
just sit here and enjoy the ride.”
    “Rachel.”
    She groaned and rolled her head toward the
sound of Hawke’s husky voice. She forced her eyes open. “I’m being
ridiculous.”
    Heat warmed her as he placed her hand in his
and braided their fingers. “I promise, we’ll be fine.”
    She gave his hand a slight squeeze to
convince him she wasn’t afraid. “Of course we will. Mechanical
failure accounts for most air accidents and I’m sure you checked
out the plane, right?”
    “Um, no.”
    Rachel’s eyes rounded until her vision
blurred. The man obviously spent thousands of dollars on an
eye-catching machine and didn’t check the mechanical systems? Her
mouth fell open to speak but nothing came out.
    “Max did,” Hawke assured her, “and he’s
sitting in the cockpit with the pilot.”
    Rachel released a slow breath and attempted
to compose herself. “Max can fly this beast?”
    Hawke’s throaty chuckle soothed her knotted
nerves and she began to feel tension leak from her muscles. “I
haven’t found anything Max can’t do.”
    Attempting to distract herself from the fact
the plane was now creeping down the runway, Rachel glanced around
the cabin. “Did you design this yourself?”
    Hawke twisted his lips. “No, I leave design
to people like you.”
    “It’s very tastefully