Free A Werewolf in Manhattan by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page B

it.
    “Sir,” the flight attendant said, “I’ll have to ask you to turn off your phone.”
    “Right.” He quickly put his cell number in a vacant speed dial position. Then he powered down the BlackBerry and handed it back to Emma as the attendant went through the seat-belt-and-flotation-device spiel. “You now have me on speed dial, letter z.”
    “Oh.” She looked annoyed. “I guess that’s okay.”
    “You can change it on Sunday afternoon.”
    “Don’t worry. I will.”
    He settled back in his seat and tried to imagine himself running through the forest. Flying made him uneasy, which was another reason for choosing first class. Wolves weren’t meant to be suspended thirty thousand feet in the air. Flying made his ears hurt and dried out his sinuses. When he flew alone, he drowned out the engine noise by wearing top-grade earphones tuned to a medley of forest sounds, but that wouldn’t be happening today.
    As they taxied down the runway, he gripped the armrests and swallowed. Visualization wasn’t working for him this morning.
    Emma must have noticed, because she glanced at him with undisguised curiosity. “Aidan, are you afraid of flying?”
    “No.”
    “You are so! It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people are spooked by the idea of being up in the air with no visible means of support.”
    “Thanks for that description.” Aidan closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Each time he did this, he promised himself he’d try hypnosis next time. But he never remembered until it was too late and he was headed for the airport.
    “I’ve found the best remedy is distraction,” Emma said. “So let’s talk about something unrelated to flying. How about the weather?”
    Aidan groaned. “Ice on the wings. I’d forgotten about that. We could end up with ice on the wings, and we’d go down like a rock.”
    “Okay, then politics. The world situation.”
    “Terrorists. Somebody could be on the plane with a bomb, and we’d never know. On a train or a bus, you have a fighting chance, but up in the air—”
    “How about my love life? We could talk about that.”
    Aidan opened his eyes and turned his head to stare at her. “You’re going to tell me about your love life?”
    “See? You’re already distracted.”
    “Go on.” It did help to focus on her. He couldn’t very well take her with him on every future flight, but for now, she was a great solution. “What about your love life?”
    “You know that boyfriend I told you about?”
    “Yes.” He knew way more about Dougie-boy than she could imagine.
    “We’re taking a break from each other.”
    Ah. It shouldn’t have mattered to him at all, but a surge of excitement told him it mattered, all right. “Since when?”
    “Yesterday.”
    “Emma, if this has anything to do with me, that’s not good, because I—”
    “It does and it doesn’t. It does because I had such a great time on Wednesday night that I realized Doug and I might not be right for each other. So I thank you for that. We needed to take a break.”
    “Look, if you’re thinking we might hook up, there are several reasons why that wouldn’t be a good idea.” All he had to do was figure out which ones he could tell her without making her suspicious about his family.
    She laughed. “You are so right about that. Several I can think of.”
    “What do you mean?” He’d thought he’d have all the reasons on his side.
    “Well, I’ll be the first to admit that my next lover will be physically more like you and less like Doug.”
    “That’s flattering.” He sincerely doubted her next lover would be physically anything like him.
    “I can’t deny that I’m very attracted to you physically. But I’m looking for someone who recycles the Sunday Times .”
    “I do that.” Why he felt the need to mention it was beyond him. Besides, he only left instructions for his maid to recycle it, which might not count for as much in her book.
    “I’m glad you do. Recycling is a small