Free Hoodwinked by Diana Palmer

relaxed in my life or enjoyed a woman’s company so much.”
    She turned to look at him, her eyes soft and excited. “Really?”
    â€œReally. You’re good for me.”
    She lowered her eyes shyly and went back to the eggs. “I like being with you, too, Jake.”
    He felt uncomfortable at the use of his nickname. He shifted in the chair. “How do you like working for Blake?” he asked suddenly.
    â€œI like it very much,” she confessed. “Except that poor Mr. Blake worries so much,” she added. “He’s been a bundle of nerves this week. That’s not like him at all.” She shrugged, unaware of her companion’s intent stare. “Maybe it’s this Faber-jet problem. It’s made us all nervous.” She glanced at him. “Do you suppose somebody could be trying to sabotage it?”

Chapter Four
    O h, did you burn yourself?” Maureen exclaimed. She rushed for paper towels while Jake gritted his teeth against the pain from the sudden splash of hot black coffee on his big hand.
    Her question about sabotage had caught him off guard and he’d almost given the show away with that clumsy movement. He forgot the sting of the hot liquid, though, watching her concerned face and the quick, deft movements of her slender hands as she mopped his hand and wrist and frowned over the red burn mark on the darkly tanned flesh.
    It had been years since anyone had fussed over him. She didn’t appear to be doing it because she wanted to impress him. She seemed genuinely to care that he’d been hurt.
    She was leaning over him, her soft eyes concerned, her hands gentle as they rubbed some soothing ointment over the burn. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I must have bumped the table. I’m so clumsy—”
    â€œI knocked the cup with my hand,” he corrected. “It wasn’t anything you did. What is that stuff?” he asked, frowning as he watched her rub it in, her fingers small against his huge hand.
    â€œAntibiotic ointment,” she murmured. “It’s mostly for cuts and bee stings, but it’s all I’ve got and maybe it will help.”
    â€œDo you always fuss over people like this?” he asked, his voice faintly dry.
    She glanced at him. “Well, yes,” she said apologetically. “I wanted to be a nurse, but I get sick if I see blood.” She sighed and sat down beside him. “Who am I kidding? I’ve never tried to be anything except what I am. I only have an adventurous spirit. The rest of me is pure coward.”
    â€œI’d say it was lack of opportunity,” he murmured, smiling at her. His eyes grew thoughtful. “When I was your age, I hired on a tramp steamer and went to the Canary Islands and Fiji and Hawaii,” he said, reminiscing. “I worked on a sugarcane plantation on the big island in Hawaii, and then I worked as a clerk for one of the small airlines. I learned to surf over there. Got pretty good at it, too, despite my size,” he added dryly, noticing that she was hanging on every word. “Then one of the pilots started teaching me how to fly, and I was hooked.”
    â€œIs that where you learned to work on airplanes?” she asked, her eyes curious and soft.
    He hesitated. “Yes. Of course.”
    â€œIt must have been very exciting. Didn’t your parents mind?” she asked.
    â€œThey went through the ceiling,” he recalled. “But I was used to going my own way. I wanted to see what I could do on my own. I think I surprised them as much as I surprised myself.” His dark eyes grew serious. “You see, Maureen, it isn’t enough to want things. You have to go out and get them. Dreams are fine, but only if they lead to solutions.”
    â€œYou mean I have to take chances, now and again,” she said.
    â€œThat’s part of it. You have to be willing to make sacrifices, as well,” he added