Page 34 of Air Affair

“I envy you your freedom,” she said. “You can be with who you choose.”

He laughed. “Not always.”

“Oh?”

By way of answer, he leaned in and kissed her. “If it was up to me, this wouldn’t be the last time I saw you.”

“Maybe I can find a way.”

What was she thinking? This was madness. If they got caught, it would cost her everything, not to mention what it would likely cost him.

“No. It’s too dangerous for you. You shouldn’t risk everything to see me. I know you love danger, but this is too much. This is goodbye, princess.”

Even as he said it, the rush of the risk hit her, and she realized she was going to do it because of the danger, not despite it. Nonetheless, she kept quiet. Before she spoke, she needed a plan.

“What time is it? We’ll need a few minutes to pull ourselves together before your friend comes for us.”

Hank checked his watch. “Good point. We have fifteen minutes.”

“I should visit the powder room to fix my hair and makeup. Can you button me up?”

He did so slowly, kissing her neck as he went. “I don’t want this to end,” he said with a sigh.

“Neither do I.”

As she repaired her appearance, a plan began to form. She knew the exact excuse she would use to see him once again.

Too soon, Hank’s friend Walter returned to escort them downstairs. They rode down in the ornate elevators in silence, Hank holding her hand. And then it was time to hail a cab and say goodbye.

“So long, princess. I’ll remember tonight for the rest of my life.” Hank gave her one last sweet and gentle kiss before helping her into the cab. “I know I’ll never see you again, so I wish you all the love and happiness in the world.”

“Oh, Hank,” she said with a sly smile. “Never say never.” She blew him a kiss, closed the door, and gave directions to the cabbie.

As the lights of the city flew by in a blur, her mind was spinning with ideas. This most certainly was not the last time she would see Hank Hawley, not after a night like tonight. Breathing in, she could still smell his manly scent mingling with her magnolia perfume. It made her smile. She had to see this man again, and her birthday gave her the perfect excuse.

12

Hank’s head felt as if someone was chiseling it apart. He opened an eye to find the morning light blinding him through his bedroom window. Looking down, he realized he was fully dressed, including his shoes. He was going to kill O’Donnell next time he saw him.

Why did they drink so much whiskey?

Rory Belmont. That was why.

He squeezed his eyes shut. There wasn’t enough whiskey in the world.

Rolling over, he picked up the milky white card on his bedside table with gold print inviting him to Aurora Belmont’s birthday gala, a benefit for the Pilots’ Benevolent Association to be held at the Waldorf on July twenty-first. Major Fleet handed out the invitations himself, saying he received them from Major Belmont. He told them he expected every one of them to attend.

Hank didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, not that he could do either in front of Major Fleet. It had only been a week since he last saw her. Despite his determination to let her go, the woman had arranged a goddamn gala in honor of an organization he invented, all to get his attention. As if she didn’t already have it. As if he could think of anything else after that night on the roof of the Flatiron building. It was unbelievably reckless and more than a little flattering that she would go to such lengths, but the risks were too great. What did she hope to accomplish by inviting him to a grand affair where everyone would be watching?

Yesterday, after the invitations were handed out, O’Donnell immediately turned to him and waggled his eyebrows. The moment they were dismissed, O’Donnell’s onslaught began and didn’t end until Hank spilled everything to him in a bar over far too much whiskey. Well not everything. He refused to provide details of what happened that night at the Flatiron, but O’Donnell drew his own conclusions.

Christ. He’d gone and told the biggest gossip he knew his biggest secret.

Sure, O’Donnell had sworn he wouldn’t tell a soul. “I’m your friend, you big oaf,” he said. “I’m not going to let you or her get in trouble because of me. Besides, you’re going to need my help if you want time alone with her at this shindig.”

“How do you figure?” Hank asked, already dreading the response.

“You’ll need an alibi when you sneak away, someone who can swear you left for reasons wholly unrelated to Miss Belmont. You wouldn’t want people drawing conclusions when the two of you sneak away at the same time.”