which needed her sharp mind in its offices more than he needed her soft body in his bed.
The plane banked more sharply, turning in preparation for the final approach, and the twin rows of lights on the ground shone brighter and closer in the darkness. A tiny laugh emerged from her tightened throat. “People always see light coming toward them in their final moments, don’t they?”
Instinctively he slid his hand over hers as those troubling protective instincts fired his neurons without asking permission. Her poor hand was so cold, her fingers gripping the metal armrest with grim determination.
“Don’t worry, I’ve landed here probably a thousand times. This turn is a normal part of the…” His words trailed off as she slumped in her seat.
He immediately unbuckled himself and supported her head. He held her steady as the plane bumped down on the tarmac.
“Sara.” He patted her cheek gently with his fingertips. “Wake up.”
Her skin was ghostly pale, her soft lashes lowered, lips slightly parted.
Her breath was sweet on his face as he leaned into her. He allowed his lips to brush her skin as he whispered her name once again. Her cheek was the color and texture of a delicate rose petal. So soft under his lips, cool.
His memory tormented him with the image of Sara drinking in the aroma of the roses he’d given her in his office.
Those roses were nothing but clutter to him until that moment—dying things that mocked him with his own mortality. But as she enjoyed their subtle perfume and admired their doomed loveliness, he had seen their beauty in a new light.
Lately he could see many things in a new light.
Sara was so unlike any other woman he had met. A bewitching blend of innocence and experience, candor and caution, she knew when to listen and learn, and when to take the reins and go her own way. A plain little thing? If only she were.
She didn’t stir.
His arm brushed against her breast as he shifted position. The nipple tightened under her silky shirt in response to his touch. He sucked in a breath.
“Sara.”
He stroked a strand of her golden hair away from her forehead, soft as fresh-spun silk. His fingers struggled with the urge to bury themselves in the fall of hair on her neck and his lips pulsed at the sight of hers, slightly parted as if waiting for a kiss.
The kiss of life?
She is breathing, fool. His urge to settle his mouth over hers had nothing to do with medical exigency.
Elan wheeled around as he heard the door to the cabin open.
“I hope the flight was satisfactory, sir. Good Lord, is she asleep?”
“She’s fainted.”
“But she’s breathing?”
Elan nodded as the pilot strode across the cabin and leaned over Sara. His gut tightened as he watched the other man bend low over her body, close enough to enjoy her scent.
“She’ll be fine.” The aggression in his voice surprised him and caused the pilot to step back. “I shall carry her.”
He took perverse pleasure in bumping the pilot roughly out of his path as he reached for her. He shoved his arms underneath her, steeling himself against the pleasure of touching her.
But no steel could withstand the torturous burden of longing that rocked him as her slender body fell against his.
“Sara.” He uttered her name as a talisman against the forbidden desire that roiled in his belly. It must be a crime of some magnitude to lust after a woman who wasn’t even awake.
Her eyelids fluttered. His heart constricted at the thought of those jade-and-gold eyes opening to meet his. He leaned his face closer to hers, his mouth almost touching the petal softness of her skin. “Wake up,” he whispered.
Her lips parted and a rush of emotion and sensation shook him, making him glad his feet were firmly planted on the floor. He hugged her closer, fighting the urge to kiss her back to wakefulness.
“Er, Mr. Al Mansur, perhaps I should call an ambulance.” The pilot’s voice forced its way into his ears from a million miles away.
“That will not be necessary.” Elan spat the words at him, irritated at the interruption. He wanted to watch his sleeping beauty awaken.
Sara’s golden lashes fluttered again and her eyes sprang open. He felt his face crease into a broad smile as she looked at him in astonishment.
“What the…?” Suddenly her eyes were wide with fear and she kicked and struggled in his grasp. He wrestled to hold her still, not sure why, but enjoying it all the same.
“Put me down!” She writhed like a tiger cub and a huge chuckle welled up inside him and burst out as he lowered her to her feet.
“Gladly, madam.”
She fussed over rearranging her suit and tucking her hair behind her ears. She looked around, obviously trying to get her bearings. “What are you grinning at?” The fire flashed in her eyes.
“I’m glad to see you awakened. And fiery as ever.” He chuckled again.
She glanced quickly around the cabin. “We’ve landed.”
“We have indeed,” he said with mock gravitas. He could not help but enjoy her confusion. Feet planted apart, she stood poised to take on a host of attackers. He was almost tempted to throw a shadow punch and watch her spring at him like a tigress.
The pilot had opened the exterior door. “Perhaps we should help the young lady down the stairs. She may still be light-headed after her fainting spell.”
“Yes, would you please carry our bags?” With one swift step Elan swept Sara off her feet and into his arms. He was unable to suppress another grin as she twisted and wriggled, struggling to free herself from his grip.
“Put me down! I can walk just fine.”
“We’ll take no chances. Your unconsciousness may have aftereffects. I’ll carry you to the ground as a safety precaution.”
“This is ridiculous!”
Sara bucked against him, trying to loosen his grasp. He half expected her to bite him. He merely tightened his arms around her.
“Don’t fight me. I’ll put you down when we reach the ground,” he reiterated. The throaty rasp of his voice surprised him. She gave him one last jab in the ribs with her elbow, which served only to widen his smile.
She jerked her head back to look him in the face. “Stop smirking!”
“Pardon me. I’m simply glad to see you alive and…kicking again.” He bit back another chuckle.
Sara’s lovely face creased into a frown. Somehow it tickled his funny bone more that she couldn’t see the humor in the situation.
