Alfonso was sitting on her other side. She kept bumping him, grinning sheepishly, and resumed trying not to slide out of the harness and die.
With every shift of the helicopter, every bump of turbulence, her body became more attuned to Maxence sitting right beside her. Every time she thought she had controlled her mind, his scent like cinnamon incense would fill her nostrils. When she tried to settle her body so that she wouldn’t react to him, the helicopter would roll, and then she found herself draped over Maxence, no matter how she tried not to move, or else his shoulder and chest would lean against her.
The pressure of his body on hers brought back memories of their skin sliding together in Paris, the chiseled crevasses of his skin and muscle as he moved, and his effortless grace and satiny skin.
Her body warmed, anticipating his touch.
The fabric of her clothes felt rough against her skin over her chest, back, and between her legs as her flesh grew more sensitive.
Maxence didn’t look at her except for the occasional glance and apologetic smile when they jostled. After about fifteen minutes, he tapped a few times on his phone and settled back to read.
Dree wished she had loaded a book onto her phone, but she didn’t know when she’d be able to charge it again. The outlets in the convent had different prongs than the hotel had in Paris, three thick prongs instead of two round ones. At the convent, she’d borrowed a converter from a sister who had one of every type of converter in a box. As soon as Dree had plugged it in, the electricity went out for two hours, and the phone had only gotten about fifty percent charged before she’d had to leave. She’d just turned it off.
Dree looked out the front windshield. Foothills crumpled the fabric of the land ahead of them, but the flight seemed to be skirting the larger mountains.
Turbulence rattled the helicopter. Dree gripped her straps and squeezed her eyes shut.
Warmth and a hard male body flopped across her, but from the wrong side.
When she opened her eyes, Alfonso was half-turned in his harness, and his arm crossed her body, grabbing onto her seat. His far leg pointed toward the cockpit, and his green eyes expanded with surprise. He mouthed,So sorry,but Dree couldn’t hear anything over the helicopter noise and her protective earmuffs.
His foot must have slipped from where he’d been bracing himself, and he’d fallen over her. She mouthed back,That’s okay,and gave him a thumbs up.
Alfonso smiled a happy smile at her like she had made his day for not taking offense.
He was really good-looking when he smiled like that.
Like,reallygood-looking. Impressively so. His teeth were white and perfectly even, and he had a shy smile. His cheekbones and jaw on his oval face weren’t as pronounced as Max’s or even Isaak’s, but he looked more refined, more European, maybe.
Dree had noticed earlier that both of Max’s school buddies were uncommonly handsome, but this was, of course, a mission with the charity. Hooking up was not on the agenda. She should not be calibrating the relative hotness of her fellow charity workers.
Alfonso tilted his head a little like he might be about to say something, not that she was going to be able to hear even a lick of what he said, but he glanced above her head.
His smile faded, and he sat back in his seat.
When Dree turned back to facing forward, Maxence was turning to look back at his phone.
Had he just—
No, surely Alfonso had just realized that speaking would be futile and decided to wait until they got down on the ground.
The helicopter ride lasted a little over two hours. By the end of it, Dree was desperate for the cooler air of the mountains in the Jumla district. The heat from Maxence’s body continually washed over her, and her skin was so used to seeking his that she had to keep her hands clenched around her harness’s straps to keep herself from accidentally reaching for him every time a bump in the atmosphere made her panic.
Finally, as the helicopter crested a low mountain range and turbulence jostled the seat under her tush, a long runway cut through a ragged grid of crop fields in a lush valley. As they neared, houses dotted the fields and sprung up around the small airport like a ring of mushrooms, many capped with vibrant blue roofs.
The helicopter settled onto a helicopter pad at what appeared to be a tiny but functional airport, and the whine of the engine descended as the blades slowed.
Dree jabbed the buckle of her seatbelt to release it and lunged toward the door, dancing over Batsa, who hadn’t moved fast enough.
When she glanced back, Maxence had also gotten out of his harness and was braced against the back of the helicopter. Fire filled his eyes, and his set jaw looked like he might be grinding his teeth.
He must hate flying, too.
Dree fled from the helicopter and pretended the reason she’d run was to oversee their backpacks and supplies being unloaded from the rear compartment.
The guys stumbled off the helicopter after her, blinking in the late morning sunlight and establishing their bearings.
Isaak leaned over and braced his hands on his knees, panting. Father Booker absently patted him on his back while he examined rows of mountains in all directions sawing the sky beyond the buildings of the town.
