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“Oh, hell no,” he answered. “What would I do with a soul mate when I’m never in one place long enough to grow roots?”
“Exactly.” Marly nodded toward the plane. “Besides, I have my soul mate.” She patted the plane’s fuselage. “He doesn’t argue with me much, sweeps me off my feet and carries me anywhere I want to go.”
Pitbull frowned. “Your plane?”
Marly shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about him cheating on me.”
“Until another pilot comes along,” Pitbull pointed out.
“I don’t have to cook for him,” Marly continued.
“You have to feed it aviation fuel, which can’t be cheap,” Pitbull countered.
“He doesn’t care what I wear or whether I put on makeup.”
“You got me there.” Pitbull’s lips twitched for a second. He stared at Marly’s fresh, clean face and sparkling blue-gray eyes. “But seriously, you don’t need makeup.”
Marly’s cheeks filled with a soft pink color, giving her a more feminine look. “Thanks. And for that, you win the prize.”
Pitbull’s lips curled into a wry grin. “What prize?”
Marly smiled. “Copilot’s seat.” Before Pitbull could protest, she clapped her hands sharply and faced the men standing around the plane. “If you’re ready, we can get this show on the road.”
“But—” Pitbull started.
Buck pounded Pitbull’s back. “Congratulations, you lucky dog. You’ll have the best seat on the bus.”
“If you like it so much, you take it.” Pitbull waved a hand toward the plane.
“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of such a prime location.” Buck winked at Marly. “I’m sure the pilot will take very good care of you.”
“You know damn good and well how I feel about this plane,” Pitbull grumbled low enough for Buck to hear without clueing Marly in on their earlier discussion.
Buck cupped the back of his ear. “What’s that you say?” His brows rose high, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “You were going to tell Marly how you felt about her pride and joy?” He whacked Pitbull in the back hard enough to send him staggering forward. “Go ahead. Tell her how much you love flying in fixed-wing aircraft.” The bastard crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Marly stared at Pitbull, another smile tugging at her lips.
Caught between Buck’s taunts and Marly’s expectant stare, he did the only thing he could. He lied. “I can’t wait to ride shotgun.”
Marly’s eyes narrowed briefly. If he hadn’t been watching so closely, he would have missed it. But then her face cleared and she grinned. “Great. I’ll brief you on how to land this baby in case something happens to me.”
Pitbull shot a horrified glance her direction. He ran his gaze from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. “Holy shit, Marly. You aren’t expecting to croak while flying, are you?”
She laughed, a throaty, surprisingly sexy sound that caught and held Pitbull’s attention, despite her random threat of dying while in flight. His heartbeat ratcheted up and his groin tightened. What the hell? Marly wasn’t the kind of woman he usually found attractive. He went for dark-haired, curvy women who knew how to flirt and didn’t expect anything past a one-night stand.
Marly’s face lit and her eyes shone. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m as healthy as a horse.”
His heart hammering against his ribs, Pitbull forgot to be angry or disconcerted about having to ride in the cockpit of the aircraft. For that moment, he was lost in Marly’s laughter and smile.
Damn. This couldn’t be good.
He tore his gaze from her fresh face and happy smile to watch, without really “seeing,” as his teammates climbed aboard the aircraft and settled into their seats.
“If you’re ready,” Marly said beside him and touched his arm. “I’ll close the door behind us. Really, I’m fine. I won’t pass out and die during our flight.” She held up her hand. “Scout’s honor.”
He frowned. “I’m holding you to that promise. And I doubt seriously you were ever a Scout.” Then he ascended the steps into the tiny plane. Hunkering low to keep from bumping his head, he passed down the aisle and settled into the copilot’s place on the right.
Taking full responsibility for the aircraft, Marly secured the door behind her and joined him, resting a hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself into her seat.
Where her hand had been remained warm long after she removed it. If he were honest with himself, he’d own up to the tingling sensation sizzling through his body at her touch. Obviously he’d been too long without a woman in his bed. But now was not the time to be thinking of such a thing.
Marly was the pilot, nothing more.
“Buckle up, buttercup,” Marly said, fastening her safety straps. Over her shoulder, she told the others, “As you all well know, this isn’t your usual jetliner flight. I’ll be your pilot, or rather, copilot—with Pitbull’s assistance—and flight attendant. Please fasten your seat belts and keep them fastened until we land. There will be no beverages served on this flight, and there is no lavatory.” She gave the guys in the back a wicked grin. “If you should need to relieve yourself...hold it until we make our refueling stop halfway there.”
“Well, damn,” Buck complained. “I wanted a beer.”
T-Mac followed with, “And I was really looking forward to the peanuts.”
Big Jake waved a dismissive hand. “Ignore the whiners. We’re all set. Let ’er rip.”
“And by ‘let ’er rip,’ he means make a smooth takeoff and an even smoother landing,” Pitbull mumbled.
“I heard that.” Marly’s pretty pink lips twisted. She slapped a headset against his chest. “Wear these so you know what’s going on.”
He slipped the headset over his ears and plugged the wires into the communications ports. “Do I want to know what’s going on?”
She leaned back and gave him an assessing stare. “Pitbull, are you telling me you’re afraid of a little ol’ plane ride?” Her brows rose into the hair swooping down over her brow.
Buck leaned forward. “Bingo! Give the lady a prize.”
Marly shook her head. “You have nothing to worry about. I have over three thousand hours flying this plane alone, and more in other types of aircraft. I started flying at thirteen, over fifteen years ago. I think I can handle it.” She checked the instrument panel, flicked several switches and started the engine.
As the propeller spun into action, Pitbull’s gut clenched.
“Relax. We’ll be there before you know it,” Marly said into the mic.
Her voice filled the earphones of his headset, reassuring Pitbull when he needed it most.
Marly spoke to the nearby air traffic controller, got her instructions and started the plane taxiing toward the runway. “With all you go through as a navy SEAL, I can’t believe you’re afraid of flying.”
“I’m not afraid of flying,” Pitbull said through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the armrest at his side. “I’m afraid of crashing.”
“But you fly in helicopters all the time,” Marly reasoned, pushing the throttle forward. The aircraft gained speed as it barreled down the runway.
“I do it as part of the job.” Pitbull tensed, praying the runway was long enough. “And helicopters don’t eat up thousands of feet of runway to take off.”
Still grinning, Marly kept her gaze on the runway ahead. “Yeah, but when the propeller stops, helicopters drop like a rock to the earth. Airplanes, on the other hand, can glide for miles.” Just as they neared the end of the runway, the plane left the ground, the wings seesawing slightly as they lifted the craft into the air.
Pitbull leaned back, willing the plane to continue its climb. “Planes can glide for miles, but they still need thousands of feet of runway to land. Helicopters don’t. Besides, I’m used to flying in helicopters, not planes.”
Her hands steady on the yoke, Marly handled the aircraft like the expert she was. “Stick with me and I’ll have you singing a different tune.”
Pitbull shot a glance her way, his groin tightening despite the knot in his gut. He’d like to stick with Marly long enough to get to know her lithe body and the taste of her pink lips. The woman was sexy when she was all into her element of flying.
Pitbull wished he could enjoy the view more. And he might if he could relax, like she said, and enjoy the ride. But this wasn’t Pitbull’s preferred method of transport. It would take a whole lot more time in the craft for him to get even remotely comfortable. In the meantime, he’d suffer through, for the sake of the team.
* * *
MARLY ALMOST FELT sorry for Pitbull. Once she was over five hundred feet in the air, she shot a glance his way.
The man was as tense as a drawn bowstring. His knuckles were white where they curled around the armrest, and he stared through the front windshield unblinkingly.
She couldn’t talk him down from his panic. She’d already tried. The best she could do was to land the plane safely and smoothly.
Marly had to admit Pitbull had been the one to catch her eye among the navy SEAL team members. His hard-packed body, square jaw and intense expression made her heart flutter, an occurrence she hadn’t experienced in her twenty-nine years. Until she’d met the SEAL team and Pitbull.
Knowing he had a deep fear of fixed-wing aircraft didn’t diminish his attraction in the least. It actually increased it in Marly’s eyes. It proved he wasn’t perfect, like she’d originally thought. After her first encounter with the team, she’d read up on the elite units of navy SEALs and what it took to become one. And wow! This man sitting beside her had braved some of the worst conditions and treatment, muscled through and had become one of America’s best.
From what she’d learned from others among the team, they’d deployed multiple times to the Middle East, Africa and other places around the world on deadly missions. Pitbull couldn’t be afraid of much, if he strode headlong into danger.
Marly had waded into dangerous situations on more than one occasion and been scared she wouldn’t emerge alive. But somehow, she had. Many times she’d considered moving back to the States and setting up a charter service there, but her mother still worked in the small villages of Africa, helping serve the poor and sick. Until her mother left Africa, she figured she might as well stay. Marly didn’t have friends or family in Virginia, where she was born. Why go back?
She glanced over at the man in the seat beside her. Perhaps if she had someone to go home to...
Not that Pitbull was that someone. Marly had grown up independent, running wild in the villages where her mother and father had worked. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a full-time relationship. Freedom was everything to her.
And sometimes, with that freedom came loneliness.
Time passed. Marly made the scheduled stop to refuel at a small airfield halfway to their destination in northern Kenya. Her landing was so soft, she could have been kissing the ground. It didn’t matter—Pitbull had a death grip on the armrest anyway.
The men clambered out, made their visit to the latrine and hurried back as the attendant completed the refueling. Pitbull offered to let someone else sit in the copilot’s seat, but there were no takers.
Marly hid a smile. She didn’t want someone else riding shotgun. She liked the view inside the cockpit.
Her takeoff was a little less graceful as she hit a couple pockets of air that tipped the wings slightly, making the plane wobble on the ascent. Marly sighed. She couldn’t win every time.
Over the next hour, the color slowly returned to Pitbull’s knuckles as he loosened his grip on the armrest.
Marly glanced at the savanna ahead and spotted some of Africa’s finest wildlife. She turned her head toward the rear of the plane. “If you look out to the southwest, you’ll see herds of water buffalo and zebras.”
The men in the seats behind her leaned forward and peered through the cabin windows.
Pitbull sat forward and craned his neck, scanning the land below.
“If you look carefully, I’ll bet you can see a pride of lions lurking nearby.” Marly tipped the nose of the plane downward.
Pitbull sat back, his grip tightening again on the armrest. “What are you doing?” he said, his voice clipped, his lips pulled back into a tight line.
“It’s okay,” Marly said. “I’m getting a little lower so you can see the animals.”
“Isn’t that what the safari is for?” Pitbull asked.
“Yes, but you can’t see the vastness of the herd from the ground like you can from the air.”
Buck laid a hand on Pitbull’s shoulder. “Stop worrying and start drinking in this amazing view.”
Pitbull closed his eyes briefly, sucked in a deep breath and let it out before nodding and reopening his eyes. “You’re right. I need to stop worrying. This plane will get us there.”
“And the excellent pilot,” Buck added.
Marly shot a grateful smile over her shoulder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
And then, without warning, the engine sputtered, coughed and died.
Marly set the plane altitude for the best glide speed and turned her focus to the control panel. Her experience and training kicked in.
“What’s happening?” Pitbull’s voice said into her ear.
She didn’t respond, needing every second of her attention on safely landing the disabled plane. Because they were so low already, Marly mentally went through an abbreviated emergency checklist and lowered the landing gear, all while scanning the surroundings for a suitable place to land.
Marly keyed her mic. “Mayday, mayday, mayday.”
“Holy hell,” Pitbull whispered beside her.
She’d promised to keep him safe on this flight, probably jinxing them all in the process. “Bravo-bravo-niner-eight-niner, experiencing engine failure. Bearing down on the savanna twenty miles north of the All Things Wild Safari & Resort, seven souls on board.”
The air traffic controller acknowledged her distress call and offered to send a rescue crew to the location of their transponder.
Marly eased back on the yoke, trading airspeed for altitude, aiming the plane in the direction of the longest, flattest spot on the huge field. Unfortunately, it was occupied by a herd of zebras and water buffalos.
She couldn’t take her gaze off the ground ahead, so she raised her voice loud enough that the men in the rear could hear. “Gentlemen, brace yourselves for a rough landing.”
Chapter Two (#u09893b2c-705e-55c4-aee3-4f4a6e1c10ee)
When the engine cut out, Pitbull’s heart slammed against his ribs and pulsed through his veins until Marly gave the warning to brace for landing. Then, as with all dangerous assignments, he drew into himself and focused on the mission.
In this case, it was to survive and get everyone out of what would surely be burning wreckage, if they were lucky enough to be alive upon landing.
“Move, damn you,” Marly muttered into the mic, her concentration on the zebras trotting across the field in front of the descending plane. “Move.”
The closer the plane grew to the herd, the faster they ran.
Pitbull leaned forward, his breath lodged in his throat, counting the seconds until they ran over the black-and-white-striped creatures. Just when he thought they’d hit one of the animals with the landing gear, the herd split, shooting out to each side of the aircraft and far enough away that the wings didn’t touch them.
The plane floated toward the earth, slowing, slowing, slowing...
A horn sounded.
