“Looks good in here. We just have to inspect the cockpit, and then we’ll get you in the queue for takeoff.”
Why won’t they leave?
“Appreciate it. Do you know how long a wait that will be?”
“We’re thinking we can have you back in the air within an hour after refueling.”
“That’d be great.”
The door opened and then shut. I could hear their voices as they faded away.
We sat there in silence for a couple of moments, and then, without ceremony, I shifted her as far down my thigh as I could.
“Sorry.” Her apology was a breathless whisper.
I pressed my head harder against the wall and willed my mind to think of something, anything, other than the soft, warm woman who sat on my lap.
“It’s fine.” I could hear men talking outside the plane, and the occasional thump as they worked.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.”
She paused long enough for me to hope that she had dropped it. Then she whispered, “You don’t sound fine.”
I needed to get out of this closet. “Don’t talk unless you have a question.”
She paused for a couple of moments. “Are you okay?”
A short laugh punched out of me. This chick would try the patience of a saint. “I need to think.”
About anything except how much I want you sitting back on my dick. I decided to turn the tables on her. “Why are you scared of closets?”
She shifted her weight in discomfort. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Now that sounded intriguing. Before I could press her, I heard the door of the bunk room open. Keys jingled in the lock and then the crew member’s face appeared as fresh air rushed over us.
“The inspector is gone. Stay in the bunk room until takeoff.”
Without another word, he disappeared back out the door.
CHAPTER SIX
BLAIRE
I scrambled off Viktor’s lap and practically tumbled out of the closet. Behind me, Viktor was slow to follow. My face was burning, and I turned away from him, trying to hide my embarrassment. There was no mistaking what had just happened. Viktor had clearly told me to remain still, but I had continued to move in his lap, in ways that probably had felt overtly suggestive. My face burned at the thought of me practically gyrating on him.
To the point that he had gotten aroused. I was incredulous. Before this moment, I had never gotten the sex vibe from him. Viktor presented as this indifferent, ruthless soldier who put a gun to people’s heads for a living. On a good day, Viktor would feel cold and clinical.
I could never have sex with someone like him.
This whole situation felt suddenly precarious. What if he made a sexual move toward me? Was I safe, or should I try to escape now? I spun around and faced him. He was sitting on the bunk, his back against the wall, his knees up and his gun resting on one knee. His eyes looked at me—like, really looked at me, but as we stared at each other, I saw no passion, no interest, nothing but weary resignation.
I chewed on my lip. “We should talk.”
“No.”
“This is a conversation I need to have.”
“I don’t.”
This man was impossible. It was beyond frustrating to try and communicate with him. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”
His laser gaze cut into me, and his accent sounded like a whip. “You think I want to have sex with you?”
His words stung, so my retort came out harsher than it should have. “Just making sure you can control yourself.”
He made an amused noise.
I crossed my arms. “What?”
“I know your type.”
It was ridiculous that his words inflamed me, but they did. “My type? You know about my type? What exactly is my type?”
“Wealthy and pampered. You pretend you aren’t into guys like me—but that hasn’t been my experience. Maybe your little moves in the closet were to try and turn me on.”
His words first shocked and then outraged me. It felt good to be angry; I was tired of being afraid. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.”
He leaned his head back against the wall, and he shut his eyes. “When you were younger, you probably had a crush on the gardener, especially when he got all hot and dirty.”
“He was older than my grandfather.” But his grandson wasn’t. I flushed as I remembered my teenage crush on Ben, the source of both fascination and temptation when he walked around without a shirt on. “Besides, this isn’t about me.”
“Sure sounds like it.”
The guy had a sharper tongue than I had given him credit for. “Tell me why any woman as pampered and wealthy as me would want to be involved with someone like you.”
“I’m a soldier. I live in the real world.”
“Is that supposed to be an answer? What does that mean?” I taunted.
He pinned me with a look that I felt down in my spine. “Guys like me know how to fuck.”
Sweet. Baby. Jesus. I felt my chest and face flush with heat. “Your confidence is quite unbelievable.”
“You asked.”
This conversation was going off track. I tried to remember my original reason for starting it, but I couldn’t seem to get past the mental image of him slowly stripping in front of me. “I need your assurance that you can control yourself around me.”
What would happen after he got naked? I felt myself blush again.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I may be your type, but you’re not mine. You’re safe.”
I felt almost disoriented. Everything seemed too sharp, too real. During my panic attack, he had held me, kept me safe, and spoken to me in such a reassuring voice. Through the fog of my terror and panic, he had soothed and comforted. Is that what he’d be like during sex? Would he soothe me and pin me down with a gentle strength while I thrashed with passion? The thought confused me as I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to scrub the images from my mind.
I hated this conversation, so I worked hard to change it. “Are we really going to Cambodia?”
“Yes.”
“What happens next?”
“We head back to Vietnam.”
“To get our paperwork?”
“Yes.”
“How are we going to get out of Cambodia and into Vietnam if we don’t have that paperwork?”
“Very carefully.”
“That’s a non-answer,” I informed him.
He opened his eyes a slit. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”
Suddenly, I felt exhaustion wash over me. The adrenaline of my panic was wearing off, and now I felt almost weak. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
He moved over, giving me half the cot. I crept up beside him and sat myself close to the edge. I glanced at Viktor.
He sat completely still, his eyes closed again.
“Are you going to sleep now?”
“No.”
Taking advantage of his closed eyes, I studied his profile. Every bit of him looked powerful, including his neck and jaw. His nose was straight and his eyelashes surprisingly long and full.