Authors: Donna Kauffman
She had a sudden image of Jack pushing the Jeep over the badly rutted roads, and cringed. Now that she knew that on top of it all he’d flown here
from L.A., his fatigue the day they met was even more understandable. She was amazed he’d made it to the bungalow on his own two feet.
He pulled into a space behind the main building that served as terminal, flight gate, and air control tower and got her first look at Jack’s plane. “It’s very … small.” She’d meant to say “nice,” but the truth had snuck out instead.
“Great, isn’t she? Cessna 172, seats four, flies like a dream, and as of six months ago, she’s all mine.” He hopped out, then turned to get their bags from the backseat. “Just let me stow these on board,” he called to her. “I have to do a preflight check and run my flight plans past whoever’s playing controller today.”
April nodded and watched him in stunned silence as he efficiently went about the preparations. His quick, deft movements as he looked over the plane reassured her. She was still getting used to the idea that he was a pilot. The long ride to the airport had been loud and not real conducive to conversation. She’d spent the first half of the trip trying to figure out where “pilot” fit in with “photographer” and the second half determining to have the answer by the time they returned to the Cove.
She hopped down from the truck and, after making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, locked it up. Jack had gone inside the rather rustic terminal, so she wandered over to the plane.
“We’re all set,” he said, coming up behind her just minutes later. “Your chariot awaits.”
A few minutes later she was strapped into the copilot’s seat and watched the tiny airport disappear from view as Jack banked the plane and headed toward the mountains to the east.
“How long have you been flying?” She had to raise her voice to be heard even though the cockpit was barely big enough for the two of them.
Jack dropped his headphones around his neck and smiled as he answered. “Let’s see, I’m thirty-five, so, I guess about ten years or so. My uncle flew and I was always interested. Later on I realized it was a skill that would come in handy with my career, so I got my license.”
He made it sound as if he’d learned to drive a car so he could get to work. Yelling questions in a noisy plane wasn’t the best way to learn about his past, but she was too curious to wait for a better opportunity. “Just what type of career do you have? I thought you were a photographer.”
He looked over at her, his translucent green eyes probing hers for several long seconds before he turned his attention back to flying. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer, he spoke.
“I’m actually a photojournalist.” Jack cast a quick glance at her, then looked back at the panel in front of him. Since she absorbed that bit of news in silence, he went on. “Some of the places I go
for stories aren’t exactly conveniently located off a highway exit. Flying planes and occasionally helicopters has gotten me into places I couldn’t have reached otherwise.” He didn’t add that it had also gotten him out of those places in one piece a few times too, but another quick glance at April’s face told him it wasn’t necessary.
It should have unsettled him that she read him so well, but instead it was strangely reassuring. Still, he wished he knew what she was thinking. He’d hoped to know a bit more about her background before revealing more of his—at least what it was that had spooked her and sent her running from the United States all the way to the other end of Mexico. He didn’t like not knowing if something he’d done in his past might somehow turn her against him. But he wouldn’t lie to her. She deserved to know as much about him as he did about her.
“So, you worked mostly foreign assignments?”
He sensed there was more to that question than random interest, but he answered it honestly. “Yes,” he responded, raising his voice over the noise of the unpressurized cabin. “Mostly the Middle East, occasionally Europe or South America. Usually political or governmental-unrest kind of stuff.”
April blew out a deep breath. She knew that kind of “stuff,” as he called it, could be dangerous, that he could have been killed. The very idea of him
risking his life repeatedly to get a few pictures and a story turned her stomach into a lead ball.
All at once things started to fall into place, little fragments of conversation she’d had with him regarding his reasons for being at the Cove. “Do you think you’ll go out on another assignment when you get back to L.A.?”
Jack jerked his gaze toward her and held it as long as he thought he could. How in the hell was he supposed to answer such a loaded question at twelve thousand feet? “I don’t know, April.” It was a far more truthful response than he’d thought it would be. It was also the only one he had.
April lapsed into her own thoughts and Jack turned his attention back to flying the plane. It was killing him not to ask her what she was thinking: about him, his career, his future plans. About whether she would like to be a part of the latter. He realized that it was the sudden importance of his need to know that kept him silent.
They were lucky to encounter little disturbance over the mountains, or air pockets as they crossed over the dense tropical forests near the city of Oaxaca, but April still sighed a breath of relief once they were safely on the ground. As he’d promised, it was mid-afternoon when they deplaned. She stood with their gear as Jack disappeared into the Oaxaca terminal to find the
transporte terrestre
counter to arrange for one of the yellow
taxis
to
take them the nine or so kilometers into the city.
She hadn’t been to the ancient city in several years. The state capital, it also had the largest population of the native Zapotecs. An intensely proud and private group, they were regarded by many as below second class, mainly due to their lack of education. A wry grimace crossed her face as she railed inwardly at the harsh irony that it was this attitude that kept them from being educated in the first place. She thought about the meeting tomorrow and felt a wave of fatigue at the task ahead of her.
She suddenly wished she were just here with Jack to rest and relax. It was disturbing to realize just how much she needed that break. At least this time away from the pressures of the Cove might help her figure out where she was headed with Jack. She turned her thoughts to the night ahead and shivered, as if the breeze that whipped across the open concourse was chilly rather than muggy and warm.
The idea of spending an entire night in a soft bed surrounded by Jack’s big, hard body made her skin heat again. She jumped when a large hand gripped her shoulder.
“Sorry. You looked a million miles away. What were you thinking about?” Jack put his arm around her shoulders and herded her toward the taxi that was waiting about fifty feet away.
The flush on her skin deepened. She knew it
was silly of her, but she couldn’t come out and say she’d been picturing them in bed making love with wild abandon. “Just about the trip. I guess we should be getting to the hotel. Carmen made reservations at the El Presidente; it’s one of the nicest hotels in Oaxaca.”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Does it have big beds and clean sheets?”
She smiled up at him. Had he guessed her thoughts? “I should hope so. Why?”
“If it has that and room service, I don’t care if it’s a Motel 6.”
She laughed and watched the cabbie watching Jack load their luggage into the trunk. If a tourist showed the slightest inclination to help himself, most locals were more than happy to indulge them. Their driver was apparently no exception. “I wouldn’t count on room service if you need sustenance quickly.”
Jack’s smile turned wicked as they climbed into the backseat. She moved to the far side to allow him some room in the cramped quarters, but he pulled her tight to his side. “If you’re in the room with me, I promise, I’ll never starve.”
Out of the corner of her eye April noticed the taxi driver watching them in the rearview mirror. She shifted a micrometer away from Jack—all his grip would allow—and said, “
Hotel El Presidente, 5 de Mayo 300, por favor
.”
She gave the instructions in her haughtiest CEO voice, but the effect was ruined when, in perfect Spanish, Jack added, “And there’s extra in it for you if you get us there pronto.
Comprendes
?”
Apparently the cabbie did, because he turned his attention back to the road and floored the gas pedal. April would have been flung against the door as they careened out of the lot if not for Jack’s hold on her. “You might want to tell Mario Junior up there to slow down if you want us to get there in one piece,” she muttered, only half upset that Jack had taken over—again.
“April?”
“What?” she grumped, not trusting his soft voice.
“Be quiet and kiss me. We’ll be there before I let you up for air.”
As usual, he was right. But she didn’t mind so much this time.
The
El Presidente
was actually a converted sixteenth-century convent, a fact that amused Jack to no end. His amusement faded, however, when he found that Carmen had booked them into adjoining rooms. Jack immediately asked for different accommodations, but this time April overruled him.
He glared at her as she accepted the room keys, but kept silent until they were in their rooms. The
only smile she got out of him was when she’d quickly stepped in and prevented the bellman from taking Jack’s silver camera case. Now that they were all alone, she wished she could think of something else that would make him smile again.
Jack leaned back against the closed door, eyeing her as she stood in front of the window across the room. “Did I miss something?”
She didn’t pretend not to understand. “No.”
He pushed off the door and closed the short distance between them. “Then why the two rooms?”
April shrugged but didn’t look away. “This is all still new to me, and I just thought it might be best if we had some space. I don’t know, just in case.” As her voice trailed off, she thought she saw the anger leave his expression and his eyes darken in concern.
“In case I learn something in the next two days that would make me want my own room?” She looked away, and he reached out and pulled her to him by her upper arms. “Look at me.”
She realized she must have mistaken the look of concern. His voice contained barely concealed fury. She looked up at him and it was confirmed by the icy paleness of his green eyes.
“I want to know you, April. I intend to know you. Better than anyone else, more thoroughly than anyone ever will. If that idea scares you then join the crowd—it scares me too. But I’m not hiding,
and I’m not running. The woman who kissed me under that tree wouldn’t either. That’s the woman I want.”
Shaking with need and in fear of the wild emotions his heated statements had set off in her, she tried to pull out of his grasp. He wouldn’t let her go. “If you want to know me then you’re going to have to take all of me, Jack Tango. The woman who made love to you on her own desk is a very new part of me.” She didn’t have to add that it was a part only Jack had ever known; the flare of his pupils told her he understood that. “But I’m not into playing games either. I just know that there are parts of me, of my life, that may make you change your mind, okay? You ask me to trust you, and I want to. You want to talk scared? You don’t even know the half of it.”
Anything else she was about to say was cut off as his mouth came down hard on hers. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, as if her life depended on it. She kissed him back because she was very afraid that one day it
might
, and that she couldn’t count on him being there then. He was here now, and that had to be enough.
Jack moved from her lips to her throat; he pulled her arms around his neck and moved his hands down her sides to her hips. The fear in her voice when she’d lashed back at him had been expected, and still he’d felt an overwhelming urge to carry her to
the bed and push deep inside of her until she never doubted him again.
It was the certainty in her voice, however, that caused a cold finger of dread to creep into his heart. What if she didn’t let him help her? And, God help him, what would he do if she asked him to and he didn’t know how?
He yanked his lips from her shoulder and forced himself to gentle his grip. He pulled back and waited until she looked up at him. Her eyes were huge and such a deep shade of brown, he thought he might drown. He felt his heart drop to his stomach at the trace of resignation he saw in them. “Tell me, April,” he commanded, his voice made harsh out of fear. “It’s the only way I can prove to you I won’t run. And I don’t think this relationship can go any farther until you know that.”
Her bottom lip, reddened from his kisses, trembled slightly, and he damned himself for putting her through this.
“Okay. But not this minute. I need—”
Her voice broke off in a strangled cry and Jack pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, then pulled her head to his chest. Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, he whispered, “Yeah, it’s okay. I know.”
He dropped soft kisses on her hair and stared out the window behind her into the waning Mexican sunshine. “Listen, why don’t I get out of here for a
while. I’m sure you have some heavy-duty planning to do for the meeting and I’d like to explore the area and set up a few shots for tomorrow.”
After a pause she said, “All right.”
Her voice was rough with unshed tears, and it took all his will to let her go. He scooped up his canvas bag and quickly loaded it with the few things he’d need for his scouting trip. “I’ll probably be out till dark. If you want, I can have them send up something for you to eat.” He chanced a look at her. She’d turned her gaze out the window. “Or we can have a late meal out somewhere. I’ll find a place while I’m out.”
His easy manner cost him a great deal, but it was worth it when he saw the tension in her shoulders lessen as she relaxed slightly. “Sounds good. If I get hungry before then I’ll call for something.” Her voice was softer, but she kept her back to him.
With nothing else to say, Jack walked to the door.