Page 4 of Hidden Resolution


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“No!” But she was a bald-faced liar, and they both knew it. Heat flared in her face, betraying her, so she decided coming clean was the best course of action. “Okay,yes. But can I help it if you smell like bottled temptation?”

His obnoxious bark of laughter turned heads.

Face within five seconds of spontaneously combusting, Shonda ducked lower in her seat. An eyeball peeped through the seat crack, and she resisted the urge to poke it, thereby blinding her nosy neighbor and teaching them to mind their own fucking business.

Mr. Egotistical concluded it would be fun to tease her.

“Soooo,” He drawled as if they had all day, and damned if it didn’t sound provocative in his Southern baritone. “You like the way I smell.”

The smirk was uncalled for, though.

She glared. “Yeah, well, I like how cupcakes smell, but it doesn’t mean I indulge.”

“Pity.”

“That I don’t eat cupcakes?”

“That you don’t… indulge.”

“I didn’t say I don’tindulge, indulge.”

“‘Indulge, indulge’? Code for sex?” he taunted.

“What else would it be code for?” she snapped. “As if you didn’t start it with your sexy bedroom eyes and that voice and your suggestive?—”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she’d done it again! What the hell was this man doing to her brain? Melting it, that’s what. “Stop talking to me now. Please.”

His deep chuckle hit her right between the eyes, dumbfounding her.

“If you change your mind aboutindulging, I’ll gladly initiate you to the club,” he said with an elevated self-confidence no person should possess.

She shouldn’t have wished for their plane to go down in a fiery crash, but the embarrassment of their stupid conversation was killing her way too slowly. Shonda opened her mouth to retort, with no real idea what she’d say, when a crackling announcement drowned her out.

The passengers were asked to return to their seats and fasten their safety belts. Flight attendants raced to collect cups and other items they’d passed out, urging everyone to put their tray tables upright as they hurried past.

Mason touched the woman’s arm to get her attention. “What’s happening?”

“Just turbulence.” Her pseudo-calm reassurancegave way to a yelp as the plane dipped.

A second announcement directed the crew to find their seats and buckle up. The plane rocked and righted itself, sending a symphony of gasps throughout the first-class cabin.

Shonda gripped Mason’s hand.

When the captain spoke next, it was to inform them of engine failure and the need for an emergency landing.

“Okay,” Shonda blurted.

“Okay, what?” Mason asked her, clearly confused.

“Okay, let’s do the Mile-High thing. If we’re going to die, we might as well go out with a bang.”

For the longest minute, he stared at her.

Unspeaking.

Unmoving.

An instant later, he shoved the divider out of his way and captured her lips with unerring accuracy.