herself from asking, ‘Jeez, Adam, would you grab hold of a woman like that?’
He shot her a sideways glare.
‘Let me know when you want to find out.’ He flexed his fingers and looked down at the controls. ‘Keep going.’
The throwaway invitation sent a thrumming pulse of anticipation to the centre of her body, even though Roane knew instinctively it had been a knee-jerk reaction to her runaway tongue. ‘Towards you the nose comes up—away the nose goes down. But I warn you, you touch the throttle at any point I may have to kill you myself before we hit the ground…’
He swallowed. ‘And that’s where exactly?’
Roane somehow managed not to laugh. She knew he wouldn’t appreciate it, even if she did tell him her urge to giggle was partly because she was finding the chink in his armour so humanizing. Adam wasn’t the kind of man who would like being told vulnerability was appealing, was he? So instead she reached for his large hands, her smaller ones nowhere near able to cover them as she curled her fingers around his.
‘Between us.’ She kept her gaze focused on their hands when he turned to look for the throttle, the heat of his skin beneath her cool fingers mesmerizing beyond belief to her. What would hands that size feel like on her body? Images immediately flickered through her brain in answer to the silent question, so that when she spoke her voice sounded embarrassingly breathless to her.
‘There. That’s it. A little forwards the nose drops…a little back…and…erm…’
She’d made the mistake of glancing up at him. When she found his face disconcertingly close to hers she faltered; his intense gaze focused on her mouth as she damped her lips. The man really did have the most ridiculously thick eyelashes.
‘The—uh…the nose comes up…’ She swallowed and forced air into her aching chest. Then his scent hit her. She’d been aware of it since they’d closed the cabin doors, but up close…up close and with the heat of his skin to magnify it. Dear heaven…
Roane was no expert, but she was a long-time fan of scented candles. There were notes of citrus in there, maybe blackcurrant…and then there was a hint of sandalwood, a suggestion of mulberry and just possibly a whisper of amber. It was the most enticing combination…
She breathed deep and practically sighed with contentment as she exhaled.
He was staring at her.
And he continued studying her with silent intensity, leaving Roane floundering. ‘Okay, well, erm…left is left and right is right. Basically…’
The smile started in his eyes. ‘Said that too…’
Well, how was she supposed to concentrate with him sitting as close as he was, looking the way he did and smelling as good as he was? Letting go of his hands, she sat back in her seat.
‘Don’t move the stick a minute.’
The change was so smooth it would have taken an expert to notice it. Then Roane was in control again. If Adam was seeking control by asking for the impromptu flying lesson, then she could understand that, she supposed. Having control of her plane again immediately made her feel better. He might be able to take possession of her body’s reactions simply by breathing in and out. But by distracting herself with the everyday business of flying Roane could focus her mind elsewhere. She could.
‘Just relax and feel my movements through the stick. That’s it. Smoothly…’
Suddenly the control she had took on sexual undertones for her. She’d never been in a relationship with a man where she’d had the courage to be one of those women who took control. She’d never asked to be touched a particular way or in a certain place; nothing that might have made the experience better for her. Nope, Roane’s method had always been more along the lines of making approving mumbles and hoping he got the message. But in her plane, where she was totally in control of her environment, even giving instructions to a man like Adam Bryant seemed like the most natural thing in the world to her.
Unfortunately the fact it was a man like Adam made her think about what it would be like to give him a different set of instructions. Like a breathless, Kiss me, Adam. Or, Touch me, Adam…
Since when had she been so obsessed with sex?
Feeling the vibration of the engine through the stick Roane stifled a moan, squirming on her seat in an attempt to ease the unfamiliar tension she felt between her legs. Thankfully when she glanced at Adam he seemed engrossed enough with flying not to have noticed so she damped her lips and told him, ‘Okay. Now you try.’
His fingers flexed around the stick while Adam took a breath and tried to ignore the move she’d just made—he’d seen that shimmy of her hips on the seat. She was more distracting than the flying lesson.
Of all the things he’d mentally prepared for there had never once been the scenario of being instantly viscerally attracted to his little brother’s woman. And woman she was, no matter how much the ‘little girl’ tag he’d given her as a kid still seemed appropriate. Everything about her was little: little fine-boned hands, little wrists he could circle comfortably with his thumb and forefinger, little waist he could probably have spanned with both hands, little breasts that would easily fill his palms…
Yet everything she did and said belied any air of fragility her body intimated. Not that she came across as tough—quite the opposite. She had an air of vulnerability to her that Adam found compellingly fascinating. Not a bad thing considering where he was.
Adam hated small planes.
Her softly feminine voice filled his ears. ‘There you go. You’re flying.’
While Adam focused on the combination of what he was doing and his physical awareness of the woman sitting beside him Roane took the silence to mean she could try making conversation again.
‘Is it weird being back?’
‘At the Vineyard?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘How can it not be? You’ve been gone a long time.’
Adam didn’t take kindly to being called a liar, even subtextually, frowning as he spoke. ‘“My witness is the empty sky.”’
There was a brief silence.
‘Voltaire?’
‘Kerouac.’
When he looked sideways at her she was staring at him and Adam liked that she couldn’t figure him out. It could stay that way as far as he was concerned.
‘You have dozens of these, don’t you?’
Adam felt his mouth twitch. ‘A few.’
‘As a way to avoid making conversation?’
Nope, he could make conversation when he wanted to. ‘You’re not good with silence, then, I take it.’
‘I’m fine with silence.’ Said the woman who had babbled nervously at him all the way through the airport concourse.
