was high, his golden-brown hair blown back by the light autumn breeze tunneling beneath the plane. And he had an unbelievably great mouth curved into a smile. A wide one that hinted at unspilled laughter lurking behind those sensual lips. She suspected that behind his dark sunglasses, his eyes were laughing, too.
Laughing at her.
Wonderful. One of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her entire life had just heard her muttering about groovy dudes and free love. All while she looked like Marcia Brady before a big cheerleading tryout.
“Guess I should have worn my bell-bottoms and tie-dyed, peace-sign shirt,” he said.
She feigned a disapproving frown. “Your hair’s much too short, and not nearly stringy enough.” Tsking, she added, “And no mustache?”
The sexy smile was companion to a sexy laugh. Double trouble, either way you sliced it. “I hate to admit it, but I’m not a Bob Dylan fan, either. I guess I really can’t turn on, tune in and drop out.”
“What a drag! If you say you can’t play ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ on the guitar, I’m afraid I’m going to have to shove you into the engines of that 747 over there.”
He held both hands up, palms out. “Peace! I really do dig the threads, sister,” he said. “They’re pretty groovalicious.”
“Ooh, how very Austin Powers of you.”
Wincing as if she’d hit him, he muttered, “Do chicks really go for dudes with bear pelts on their chests?”
“Not this one,” she admitted with a laugh, liking this stranger already, despite her initial embarrassment. “Obviously, if you own a calendar, you know today’s Halloween.”
“Yeah, I heard that somewhere. That could explain why I passed a group of Hannah Montanas and Sponge-Bobs walking down the street on my way here.”
“I don’t know whether to be more sad that kids have to trick-or-treat in the daytime, or that you know who Hannah Montana and SpongeBob are.”
“Nieces and nephews,” he explained.
The affectionate way he said the words made her suspect he liked kids, which usually indicated a good nature. One point for the hot guy.
Correction, one more point for the hot guy. He’d already scored about a million for being so damned hot.
She also noted that he’d said nieces and nephews … not kids of his own. Single?
He glanced around at the other small planes nearby, and the few airport employees scurrying around doing the luggage-shuffle waltz. “So, nobody else got the invite to the costume party?”
Just her. Wasn’t she the lucky one? “I was supposed to be picking up a regular passenger and she made me promise to dress up. This is definitely not my usual workplace attire.”
“Rats. Here I was thinking I’d suddenly been let in the super-secret club. The true reason charter flights are so popular. You’re saying it really is just to miss the long lines at security, and have some travel flexibility? It’s not the hot pants and go-go boots?”
She shook her head. “‘Fraid not. But don’t forget, you also get to drink more than a half-cup of warm Coke and eat more than four pretzels.”
“Well, okay then, we’re on.”
Amanda suddenly sighed, acknowledging what she’d managed to overlook. For just a minute or two, she had been able to convince herself that some sexy, passing stranger had noticed her and come over.
Passing by on a private, secured tarmac? Don’t think so.
He wasn’t some random passerby, she just knew it.
“Oh, hell. You’re my passenger.”
“If you’re headed for Chicago, I think I am.” He stuck out his hand. “Reese Campbell.”
Cursing Mrs. Rush and Halloween and that stupid vintage clothing store on eBay, she put her hand in his. “Amanda Bauer.”
Their first touch brought a flush of warmth, a flash of pleasure that was unexpected and a little surprising. The handshake lasted a second too long, was perhaps a hint more than a casual greeting among strangers. And while the exchange was entirely appropriate, she suddenly found herself thinking of all the touches she hadn’t had for so long, all the inappropriate ways that strong, masculine hand could slide over her body.
Instant lust. It was real. Who knew?
She stared at him, trying to see the eyes behind the sunglasses, wondering if they had darkened with immediate interest the way hers probably had. Wondering what she might do about it if he returned that interest.
Get a grip.
Amanda regretfully tugged her hand away, pushing it down to her side and sliding it over her satin-covered hip. Her fingertips quivered as they brushed against the bare skin of her upper thigh and she suspected her palms were damp.
Forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath, she managed a smile. “Well, thanks for choosing Clear-Blue Air. We …”
“Love to fly, and it shows?”
It took her a second, then she placed the old Delta slogan. Her smile faded. The guy was way too hot to also be quick-witted and flirtatious. She could handle one at a time—it just became a little more distracting when they were all wrapped up in one extremely sexy package.
You can handle him. No sweat. Just stay professional.
Professional. While she was dressed for a love-in with the local beatnik crowd and this guy was both gorgeous and freaking adorable. Right.
“It’ll be a quick trip,” she said, gesturing toward the steps and moving back so he could ascend them ahead of her.
No way was she going in first, not with the length of the damn hot pants. Her cheeks were pretty well covered as long as she remained still. If she walked up the steps with him behind her, however, all bets would be off. He’d get an eyeful, and it wouldn’t be of London, or France. Because the stupid shorts were too form-fitting to wear even the most skimpy of underpants, unless they were ass-flossers, which she didn’t even own.
“Wait,” he said, pausing on the bottom step. “Aren’t you going to say ‘Fly me’ or at least ‘Welcome aboard’?”
She didn’t. The softly muttered word that came out of her mouth was a lot less welcoming. And had fewer letters—four to be precise.
He shook his head and tsked. “Not exactly the friendly skies. Haven’t caught the spirit yet this morning?”
“Make one more airline slogan crack and you’ll be walking to Chicago,” she said.
He nodded once, then pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his tousled hair. The move revealed blue eyes that matched the sky above. And yeah. They were twinkling. Damn it.
“Understood. Just, uh, promise
