Free Crash Landing by Lori Wilde Page A

She felt so disloyal lusting after Gibb when Emilio was back home unaware. She was absolutely, positively not doing anything with Gibb, no matter how much his sultry looks made her body shiver.
    “I’ll go get the cooler,” she mumbled, ducking her head. Making eye contact with him was dangerous. Already, she felt edgy, achy and the sexual tension increased with every passing second.
    “Stay put. I’ll fetch the cooler,” he said. “You’re shivering.”
    Not from the cold, but from being so near him. “Okay.”
    He trotted away and for a few minutes she breathed easier until he returned with the red Igloo cooler and she made the mistake of meeting his eyes again.
    Whoosh! Five alarm blaze.
    From inside of her. Not out.
    She’d never experienced anything like this. Not ever. Too bad it was the kind of passion she’d always been searching for. Why did she have to find passion with a wealthy American? She belonged in his world about as much as a biplane belonged in the space program. And in her world, he was just another client, someone for her to fly where he needed to go.
    Except right now, they weren’t in either of their worlds. This was a strange no-man’s-land and that was the problem. No ground rules. No code of ethics. No road map.
    Gibb set down the cooler and scanned the area.
    “What are you looking for?”
    “Something to use to skewer the wieners on.”
    Sophia burst out laughing.
    “What’s so funny?”
    “You.”
    “What about me?” He found a dead tree limb and broke off a couple of small branches.
    “Never in a million years would I have expected you to skewer wieners.”
    “Why not? I don’t look capable of wiener skewering?”
    “Caviar skewering, maybe, but wieners?” She shook her head. Then again, looks could be deceiving. With looks like his, he could have any woman he wanted skewering wieners for him.
    “Do you think I have a stick up my spine simply because I have money?”
    “Yes, sort of.”
    “What did I do to lead you to that assumption?”
    “You wear a suit. Every single day while you are at a mountain resort.”
    “I wasn’t there on vacation.”
    “So I gathered from your constant phone calls.”
    A suspicious expression crossed his face. “You’ve been watching me.”
    “I have.”
    He dropped the tree branches and stalked closer.
    She stepped back
    His eyes were narrowed. His body tensed.
    Her stomach fluttered. Every time he stared at her, it knocked her off-kilter. “What is wrong?”
    He moved closer. It was too close. “Are you a spy?”
    “Please do not get in my face,” she said calmly, even though her knees wobbled.
    “Are you a spy? It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”
    Where was this coming from? What was he talking about? “A spy?”
    “You heard me.”
    “For who?”
    “Anyone. Everyone. Fisby Corp.”
    “Who?” She blinked.
    He still hadn’t backed off. His face settled into lines. “If you’re not a spy, why were you watching me?”
    “Are you serious?”
    “Deadly.”
    “Why have I been watching you?” She swept a hand at his clothes. “Look at you. A gorgeous, exciting man in an Armani suit shows up in my quiet little corner of the world and I’m not supposed to look?”
    A toothy grin broke through the frown and his shoulders relaxed.
    “I am not a spy. You are simply...” she paused, searching for the right phrase “...eye candy.”
    * * *
    “Y OU THINK I’ M gorgeous and exciting?”
    “Oh, please, don’t even pretend you don’t know you’re the sexiest thing on two legs.”
    He raked his gaze over her. “Look who’s talking.”
    Sophia dug her bare toe in the ground. He said that now, but she could not compete with the likes of Blondie.
    “So are we cooking those wieners or not?” She changed the subject. There was already enough tension between them, best to smooth over the spy accusations.
    He retrieved the tree branches, skewered the wieners and handed one to her. They sat side by side on the sand