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Seventeen
When Wynn glanced at his watch, he saw that forty-five minutes had passed since he’d made it into the restricted area.
Fliss was alone in this mess. And he had told her there was nothing between them but sex. His heart clenched. Where was she?
Finally...at last, he spotted her. Sitting on the bare ground. Wrapped in a silver emergency blanket, her head bowed.
He approached her cautiously, crouched in front of her. “Fliss.” He said her name quietly.
She didn’t look up.
“Fliss.” He touched her knee this time. She was wearing black pants, ankle boots and a pink turtleneck. But no coat. “Fliss. It’s me. Wynn. Talk to me, honey. You’re okay. I’m not going to leave you.”
She lifted her head, her eyes glassy with shock. Her lips were blue. A tiny smudge of blood on her cheek worried him. “I don’t have my stuff,” she said, sounding confused. “They wouldn’t let us take our carry-ons or purses.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t have my driver’s license or my credit cards. I don’t have anything,” she whispered.
Wynn took her face in his hands. Seeing her wet cheeks and drenched blue eyes killed him. “That’s not true,” he said gruffly. “You have me.” Every cold, brutal word he had thrown at her came back to haunt him, making his throat raw and speech damn near impossible.
He rose to his feet and addressed a nearby female EMT. “Ma’am. Has this lady been checked out?”
“Yes, sir. No injuries. But shock, of course.”
“May I take her now?”
A uniformed police officer joined the medic. The man frowned at Wynn. “In about half an hour we’ll start loading the passengers on a bus to drive them to the terminal.”
“Not this one.” Wynn stared the man down. He wasn’t leaving without Felicity.
“How did you even get out here?” the officer asked.
Wynn pulled out his phone and showed his credentials. “She’s cold and miserable. I’m happy to give you every bit of my personal contact information, but I’m taking her home.”
The cop looked at Felicity. “Do you want to go with this man, ma’am?”
Felicity peered up at the officer from her seat on the ground. She studied his face, and then she turned to look at Wynn.
A sick feeling flooded his veins. What was he going to do if she put up a fight? He couldn’t kidnap her.
After what seemed like forever, she spoke. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like to go home.”
It was a helluva long way from the runway to where Wynn had parked his car. Felicity was in no shape to walk that distance.
He helped her to her feet. “I’m going to carry you,” he said, making his words matter-of-fact and calm.
She stared at him for the longest time. “No,” she said simply. “I’ll walk.”
Before he could say a word, she turned and began trudging toward the distant terminal, the silver blanket dragging behind her.
Wynn cursed helplessly. “You can’t,” he said. He grabbed her arm, halting her progress. “You were just involved in an airplane crash. The shock is impairing your judgment.” He took the emergency wrap from her, removed his heavy coat and put it around her shoulders. Then he bent to scoop her into his arms.
But she eluded him. For the first time, he saw the cloudy confusion in her eyes go clear for a moment. Her gaze judged him and found him wanting. “I’m going to walk.”
By the time they made it to Wynn’s car, Felicity was stumbling, but she refused to let him touch her, not even to hold her elbow.
He opened the passenger door, she got in, and he ran around to the driver’s side. When they merged into the constant flow of airport traffic, Felicity twisted her hands in her lap. “I need to borrow a credit card, please,” she said, “until I can take care of my accounts.” Her voice was flat. “And please drop me at the Wellstar Hotel. It’s the cheapest, closest place to stay.”
Wynn reined in his temper. “Don’t be absurd. You’re coming home with me.”
They were stopped at a light. Felicity jerked open the car door. “No, thank you,” she said. And then she was gone, swallowed up in a crowd of people crossing the intersection.
