Page 22 of Air Affair

“Christ, woman.” He throbbed at the suggestion. There was no denying what his cock wanted.

“I want you, Hank, and we may never have this chance again.”

He kissed her softly, gently, and everything inside her melted.

“Not today, princess.” With that he pulled away and climbed into the cockpit, coming back down moments later with a tool kit.

She remained leaning against the fuselage, panting and not entirely sure her legs would support her yet. Closing her eyes, she squeezed her fists and tried to calm the fever he’d left her with. Her whole body was aflame. Didn’t he feel the same? How could he walk away?

Because he respected her. He put her wellbeing above his gratification, unlike every other man she’d ever met. It wasn’t any easier for him than it was for her, she was certain. That was not a dispassionate kiss. For a glorious moment, he had lost control and unleashed his full, animal need, and she had savored every second of it. But somehow, it wound her up even more that he had stopped short. No one did that. She should know. She’d been fending off unwanted advances ever since she grew breasts.

Damn his chivalry. Couldn’t he see she was a woman in need?

She shoved off from the plane, deliberately not looking at him, and walked to the opposite end of the field. There was a patch of purple wildflowers. She picked a dozen or so and started to weave them together into a flower crown, like she used to do when she was a little girl on outings with her nanny. If she was Hank’s princess, she might as well play the part.

Deliberately turning her thoughts away from the man beneath the airplane, she contemplated what she would face when she returned to New York, and the invisible bars of her life closed in around her. The remaining tingles of warmth fled, and her stomach clenched.

Her father would be furious. There was no question. But she couldn’t go forward with marrying Edward now. Everything in her rebelled against the thought of spending her life with him.

It wasn’t just his mistress. It was his lack of interest in her as a person, his obsession with power and money, the fact that he called her hysterical for objecting to what any self-respecting woman would find intolerable. At first, she thought he would give her a modicum of freedom, respectability, but now she saw that he only offered a different kind of cage.

Edward was just like her father, too consumed by his own schemes to value her as she deserved. He offered what she wanted only to placate her so that he could gain access to her father’s money. He didn’t truly appreciate her in her own right.

Even if it meant Papa disowned her, the engagement was over. She could teach. After all, she had a B.A. in history from Smith College. She spoke fluent French and could read Latin. Her knowledge of American and European history was exceptional. Surely someone would be willing to hire her. If teaching didn’t work out, she could become a shop girl. She was certain she could get work at a makeup counter. They always looked for pretty faces to sell their product. Or perhaps she could sell flowers?

It wouldn’t be easy. She’d spoken to enough working-class suffragettes to know the struggles they faced. And she herself had never struggled a day in her life, surrounded by servants who took care of her every need. But the freedom of such a life called to her—freedom to live as she chose, freedom to love as she chose. Her gaze strayed to Hank, and she shook her head. It was silly to think there was anything for them but these few stolen hours.

She put the finishing touches on her floral crown and donned it before going to check on him.

“Hank,” she said, leaning down so he could see her face. “How is it going? Is there anything I can do to help?”

He gave her an odd look that lasted a little too long. “When my sister was little, she always wanted to play princess, but my brother and I would only cooperate if we got to be knights and fight with swords. She’d get bored while we whacked at each other with sticks and so she’d start weaving flowers together like you’re wearing now. I never would have admitted it to her at the time, but I always thought she looked so pretty in her flower crowns.”

She laughed. “Believe me, I know all about being the only sister with brothers. I have three of them you know—not that any of them will speak to me after my scandal. Where are your siblings now?”

“Kate’s back in Michigan with her husband Jeremiah. They help Ma with the farm.” He paused. “My brother died in the war.”

The grief in his eyes made her heart ache.

“I’m so sorry. That must have been a terrible loss.”

He turned back to his work without a word.

She wanted to ask him more about his brother, but it was clear he wasn’t feeling forthcoming. “Do you go back to Michigan often to see your family?”

He wrenched something loose with unnecessary force. “Twice last year, but I haven’t been yet this year. I owe them a visit.”

“Do you fly when you visit?”

He laughed. “Do I look rich enough to own my own or even rent a plane? I take the train same as everyone else.”

“Be glad you’re not rich. It’s a curse. Everyone wants your money, and no one cares about you.” She was feeling the sting more than usual this morning.

“I care about you, and I don’t want your money,” he said, pausing in his work.

“That’s unexpectedly sweet of you to say.” She didn’t think he was after her money, but she also didn’t expect him to care about her beyond the animal attraction they shared.

“What? You think I can’t be sweet?” He wiped his greasy hands on a rag then put them in his pockets as he leaned in to claim her lips. He didn’t want to muss her outfit, she realized. It was a gentle kiss, soft and beguiling, filling her with a hungry ache. And then he stopped. Again.