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She nodded and started her car. He didn’t try to kiss her again, and she drove away. At the gate, she peeked at the rearview mirror. He was still standing there, hands tucked inside his pockets, gazing after her. Electricity arced between her and his image in the mirror, the way it had when they’d faced each other.
Could she be falling for him? After meeting him only a few days ago? No way, she was passionate about her career, stimulated by her interesting trips, addicted to the endless sky. No kiss could substitute for her joy of flying. No man could replace all that she had.
In a way, it was good for her to distance herself from Rick Lambert. A weaker woman would let the stunning man trample on her feelings, but Madison Howell had met all sorts of men during her various flights. Many had made passes at her, many had taken her out and collected a goodnight kiss. A few had tumbled her on a bed or a sofa. None had imprinted himself for long in her thoughts. In a few days, she would forget Rick like the many before him.
Reassured by her strong attitude, she exited her car and rushed into her condo. Over the years, she’d become an expert at packing the essential for a last-minute trip—one of each, white pants and shorts, printed blouse, black t-shirt, skirt and dress. Rolling her clothes neatly in her carry on, stuffing underwear and bra in the corners, her toiletry bag in the meshed pocket, a pair of sneakers in the outside pocket, and her laptop in the padded pouch. In her large handbag, she added her travel wallet that held her cards, money, phone, pens, passport, and other essentials.
Her packing done, she indulged in a hot shower, shampooedher hair, and blew it dry. More relaxed physically, she slipped on her short nightie and stretched out on the bed, eager for a blissful, dreamless night.
Sleep eluded her. An hour later, she cursed, squeezed her eyes, and opened them wide in the dark, unable to block the sensual pictures swirling in her sleepy mind—Rick crushing her in his arms, covering her face and body with blazing kisses.
No way, I’m going nuts.
How could she erase this tormenting picture from her mind?
A glass of milk should help her sleep. She dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen. Two glasses of milk later, she was still awake, upset, and exhausted.
Was she already in too deep?
Her phone blipped alerting her to a message from Rick. As if she didn’t have enough trouble wiping his image from her mind. She clicked on the message. A picture of Rick, or at least his naked chest, reclining against the bed headboard, holding a drink high in a toast.
Cheers to you, Madison. Thinking of you. Wishing you a safe trip. I wish I could go with you.
Studying his muscled chest, she smiled and licked her lips. Darn, what a stunning man.
She chuckled, raised herself up against the head of her bed, held up her almost empty glass of milk, and took a selfie.
Back at you, Rick. Thinking of you. Wishing you could come with me.
On that cheerful note, she switched her lights off and drifted to sleep.
Her alarm awakened her at eight. She changed into leggings, sports bra, and a t-shirt, and slipped on her socks and sneakers for an hour at the building’s gym. Nothing like an hour of strenuous exercise to clear her mind. She reread Rick’s text and her response and burst out laughing. If he wanted to play theseducer, she could answer with the same tone.
Five minutes before eleven, she checked herself in the mirror one last time and nodded at her image of perfect flight attendant in uniform and comfortable wedged-heel shoes, her hair pulled into a bun at her nape, her diamond studs in her ears—her first bonus’ investment—and the right amount of makeup and perfume. Grabbing her carry-on handle, she strapped her handbag to her shoulder, stepped out of her condo, and locked her door.
Living in a condo in a high-rise provided the amount of comfort and security she needed and allowed her to travel without worrying about herhouse.
In navy pants and long sleeve polo the same color, Rick waited near a gray sedan she hadn’t seen before.
“Good morning.” He took her carry on and opened the car door for her.
“Good morning. Thank you for coming, although you didn’t need to.”
“I wanted to. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll put your luggage in the trunk.”
A couple of minutes later, he settled behind the wheel and buckled his seatbelt. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
“Excellent.”
“Thanks to the glass of milk or my text?” He chuckled, his devilish dimples playing havoc on her senses.
She laughed. “Both. The milk and your text.”
“I had trouble sleeping and was tempted to come and share a drink with you.”
“Glad you didn’t. It wouldn’t have helped me sleep.”
“I know.” His eyebrows shot up. “But it would have helped my lousy mood. Then I decided against it.”
