could just ring up a nanny service.”
“Already thought of that. They wouldn’t get here in time and my kids might not like the person they send. Olivia and Owen have taken to you.” Unable to resist, he tapped the logo just above her breast. Lightly. Briefly. His finger damn near shot out a flame like a Bic lighter. “And I do know who you are. I read enough of your proposal to learn you’ve passed your security check for airport work.”
“Well, tomorrow is usually my day off …” She dusted the logo on her shirt, as if his touch lingered. “You’ll really listen to my pitch and give me tips, mention my company to others?”
“Scout’s honor.” He smiled for the first time all day, seeing victory in sight.
“I want you to know I’m not giving up on persuading you to sign me up for Jansen Jets as well.”
“Fair enough. You’re welcome to try.”
She eyed both the children then looked back to him. He knew when he’d presented an irresistible proposition. Now he just needed to wait for her to see this was a win-win situation.
Although he needed for her to realize that quickly. “I have about two minutes left here,” he pressed. “If your answer’s no, get to it so I can make use of the rest of my time to secure alternative arrangements.” Although God only knew what those might be.
“Okay.” She nodded in agreement although her furrowed brow broadcast a hefty dose of reservation. “You have yourself a deal. I’ll call my partner to let her know so she can cover—”
“Great,” he interrupted. “But do it while you buckle up the kids and yourself. We’re out of here.” He settled Olivia back into her car seat with a quick kiss on her forehead.
Alexa looked up quickly from fastening Owen into his safety seat. “Where’s the pilot?”
He stared into her pale blue eyes and imagined them shifting colors as he made her as hot for him as he was for her. God, it would be damn tough to have this jaw-dropping female working beside him for the next twenty-four hours. But his children were his top priority.
So he simply smiled—and, yes, took a hefty dose of pleasure in seeing her pupils widen with awareness. “The pilot? That would be me.”
Two
Her stomach dropped and she prayed the Gulfstream III wouldn’t do the same in Seth Jansen’s hands.
Turning off her cell after deleting four missed calls from her mother and leaving a message for her partner, Bethany, Alexa double-checked the safety belts for both children and buckled her own. Watching Seth slide into the pilot’s seat, she reminded herself he owned a charter jet company so of course it made sense he could pilot a plane himself. She’d flown on private aircraft during her entire childhood, trusting plenty of aviators she’d never even met to get her safely from point A to point B. So why was she so nervous with this guy at the helm?
Because he’d thrown her off balance.
Boarding the plane earlier, she’d had such optimism, a solid approach in place and control of her world. In the span of less than ten minutes, Seth Jansen had seized control of not just the plane, but her carefully made plan.
The kind of bargain he’d proposed was so unexpected, outrageous even. But too good an opportunity to pass up. She needed to take a deep breath, relax and focus on learning everything she could about him, to give her an edge in negotiations.
Even knowing he must have his pilot’s license, she wouldn’t have expected someone as wealthy as him willing to fly himself. She’d thought he would have someone else “chauffeuring” while he banged back a few drinks or took a nap. Like her dad would have done during their annual family vacation, a one-week trip that was supposed to make up for all the time they never spent together during the year.
Not that she saw much of either of her parents even then. While on vacation, the nanny had taken her to amusement parks or sightseeing or to the slopes while her father attended to “emergency” business and her mother went to the spa.
Simmering over old memories, Alexa polished the metal seatbelt buckle absently with the hem of her shirt as she watched Seth Jansen complete his preflight routine.
The door to the cockpit had been left open. Seth adjusted the mic on the headset, his mouth moving, although she couldn’t hear him as the engines hummed to life. Smooth as silk, the plane left the hangar, past a row of parked smaller aircraft until he taxied to the end of the runway and stopped.
Nerves pattered up from her stomach to the roots of her hair. The jet engines roared louder, louder still, and yet she could swear she heard Seth’s deep voice calmly blending with the aerial symphony.
Words drifted back …
“Charleston tower … Gulfstream alpha, two, one, prepared … Roger … Ready for takeoff …”
The luxury craft eased forward again, Seth’s hands steady on the yoke and power. Confidence radiated from his every move, so much so she found herself relaxing into the butter-soft leather sofa. Her hands fell to rest on the handle of each car seat, claiming her charges. Her babies, for the next twenty-four hours.
Her heart squeezed with old regrets. Her marriage to Travis had been an unquestionable failure. While part of her was relieved there hadn’t been children hurt by their breakup, another part of her grieved for the babies that might have been.
The nose of the plane lifted as the aircraft swooped upward. Olivia and Owen squirmed in their seats. Alexa reached for the diaper bag, panic stirring. Did they want a bottle? A toy? And if they needed a diaper change there wasn’t a thing she could do about that for a while. Just when the panic started to squeeze her chest, the noise of the engines and the pacifiers she’d used to help their ears soothed them back into their unfinished nap.
The diaper bag slid from her grip, thudding on the floor. Relaxing, she stared across the aisle out the window as they left Charleston behind. She also left behind an empty apartment and a silent phone since her married friends had dropped away after her divorce.
Church steeples and spires dotted the ocean-locked landscape. So many, the historic town had earned nicknames of the Holy City and the City by the Sea. After their financial meltdown, her parents had relocated to a condo in Boca Raton to start over—away from the gossip.
How ironic that her parents’ initial reservations about Travis had been so very far off base. They’d begged him to sign a prenuptial agreement. She’d told them to take their prenup and go to hell. Travis had insisted he didn’t care and signed the papers anyway. She thought she’d found her dream man, finally someone who would love her for herself.
Not that the contract had mattered in the end since her father had blown through the whole fortune anyway. By the time they’d broken up, her ex hadn’t wanted anything to do with her, her messy family dysfunction, or what he called her germaphobic ways.
The way Travis had simply fallen out of love with her had kicked the hell out of her self-esteem there for a while. She couldn’t even blame the breakup on another woman. No way in hell was she going to let a man have control of her heart or her life ever again.
All the more reason she had to make a go of her cleaning business and establish her independence. She had no other marketable skills,
