A Taste of Heaven (Billionaires' Secrets Book 3) (24 page)

“I don’t think I’m everyone’s cup of tea.”

“You’re certainly mine. I like my tea strong and dark.” She felt his smile press against her cheek.

“You might be unusual in that.”

“Or I have superior taste. I’m glad no one else snatched you up yet.”

She blinked, trying not to take him too seriously. He barely knew her. “I’ve only had one real boyfriend, and that was in high school.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.” She regretted the confession, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and think she was someone else.

He stiffened. “So you’ve been single for…eight years?”

“I’ve been on dates, but none of them have really led anywhere.”

He let out a long exhale of surprise.

“I shouldn’t have told you. It’s weird, I know.”

“Only because you’re so gorgeous.”

“I did warn you I was married to my work.”

“I didn’t believe you until now. I’m almost tempted to ask you to get a divorce.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t entirely genuine. She knew plenty of women, her mother included, who’d abandoned careers they loved the moment a relationship started to make demands on their time and energy. “I’d never give up my work. It’s what sustains me.”

“I was kidding. Don’t take me too seriously.”

Now he was letting her down easy. Warning her not to expect anything of him. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” She wanted to bring back the easy calm they’d shared a few moments ago. “And you didn’t seduce me into anything I didn’t want to do. I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.” He kissed her cheek. “And now we should get some sleep.”

She snuggled against him, trying to keep her breathing slow and steady, like someone who really was about to fall asleep. Not like someone who was about to start sobbing, as she realized—in the esoteric atmosphere of a crashed luxury jet—that from now on the life she’d built so carefully would feel empty and lonely without someone to hold her close.

6

B
right spears of light pounding against Zadir’s eyelids announced that morning had come once again to the Rub’ Al Khali. He reached out for the lovely woman who’d slept in his arms, but she was gone.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Ronnie?”

“I’m in the cockpit.” Her voice stirred excitement in him. Last night had been incredible. Maybe the dangerous situation they were stuck in had unleashed some primordial energy, but he’d made love to her as if their lives depended up on it and the climax had left him too exhausted and drained to even worry about their dilemma.

He sat up and pulled clean underwear and pants from his luggage. Today, he was going to get them both out of there. He took a judicious gulp of water from his water bottle and headed for the cockpit.

She sat in the pilot’s chair, looking ridiculously poised and elegant in a crisp, white, fitted dress that set off her gorgeous dark complexion. She turned to him, eyes glowing with excitement. “I found a distress-call button. Or a pull, more accurately. Look.” She pointed to a small orange handle far up on the right among the rows and knobs and dials. “I tugged on it right away. I’ve been doing it every few minutes since.”

“Damn, how did I miss that?”

“We were focused on the radio. I think it will send a signal up to a satellite and let them know we’re in trouble. It may even give them our coordinates. You made me think of it last night when you mentioned that there might be another way to send a distress signal.”

“You’re as brilliant as you are gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek and watched a smile spread across her sensual mouth. “Hopefully, now all we have to do is sit here until help shows up. Unless…” An ugly thought had crossed his mind in the dead of night.

“Unless what?” She turned to him, her face so happy and excited that he didn’t want to share his fears.

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Unless it also summons the person who’s trying to get rid of me.”

He watched her smile fade, and she bit her lip with small white teeth. “I didn’t think of that. I suppose they thought we’d die in the crash. Now that I sent the signal more than twelve hours later, they’ll know that at least one of us survived.”

He nodded. “And they may well be the first to get here.”

“What can we do?”

“We need to hope that someone legitimate also hears the signal and gets here first. Let’s try again to raise someone on the radio.”

He donned the headphones and turned the radio dial past the endless recitation of prayers that had brought them no help. A loud burst of static made him start, and a voice in Arabic barked a question: “Is there anyone there?”

It was loud enough to be heard in the cabin, because Ronnie gripped his arm. “What is he saying?”

Foreboding unfurled in his belly. “He’s asking if there’s anyone here. You do the talking. Pretend I died in the crash, then if it’s the would-be killers they might leave us alone.”

She donned the headset, pressed the mic button and started to speak into the mic. “I don’t speak Arabic. I’ve been in a plane crash. I’m all alone in the desert. Please send help immediately.”

He watched as a roar of static tightened her muscles. Then he could hear enough to make out a different voice in heavily accented English. “You are alone?”

“Yes, I need help.”

The line went dead.

“Can you hear me? I need help?” She looked at Zadir. Then turned off the microphone. “What if they’re legit? Do I need to tell them where we are?”

“They can probably tell our coordinates from the distress signal the plane sent out.”

“Hello? Are you there?” There was no response. She turned to him, frowning. “This isn’t good. Why would they disappear like that?”

“Because they got the information they needed.”

“That I’m alone, so they can leave me to die out here?” She held the mic close to her mouth. “Hello, are you sending help?” She shrugged, and even though she’d turned the mic off, she whispered, “I want it to sound legitimate, like I’m waiting for them.”

No answer.

“It probably is the bad guys, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “But the signal would have gone out to anyone who was listening, so hopefully the Saudi authorities got it, too. I’m assuming we’re in Saudi Arabia, because most of the Empty Quarter is within Saudi borders. They may be trying to contact us on another frequency. I’m sure there’s an official frequency for this kind of thing, but I don’t know what it is so we’ll have to hope we stumble across it.”

“Let’s keep scrolling. If they could hear you, someone else will be able to hear us, too.”

Veronica’s tight body was a real temptation but he managed to keep his hands off it while he scrolled up and down the range of frequencies. She was all business today, no flirtation or mention of last night’s wonderful lovemaking. He resolved to stay focus on the task at hand.

They’d turned the volume up so loud, using the headset as a crude speakerphone, that even a burst of static fired his adrenaline. Every time they heard the familiar drone of a voice, or even some promising silence, they repeated Mayday and waited with their hearts pounding.

But no one answered.

“It’s getting hot in here.” Heat pressed against the slanted cockpit windows and poured in through the missing one.

“Soon it’ll be hotter in here than outside. We’d better go see if we can reconstruct our circle in case anyone is looking for us. The plane is probably covered in sand.”

He followed Ronnie out of the cockpit, trying not to let the lilt of her slim hips hypnotize him as she swayed across the tilted plane. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about her gorgeous body at a time when they needed to work fast to save their own lives, but it was hard not to.

It took some effort to get the plane door open, as sand had piled against it during the night. Naturally all their hard work of yesterday had been obliterated. “You go rest and drink some water. I’ll drag a circle in the sand.” He wanted to be a hero, to save both of then and whisk her off into an air-conditioned sunset. Every hour they spent out here brought them closer to the end of their water. Even if they paced themselves, their supply would last a day or two more, at most.

She jumped down to the sand. “There’s no way I could sit idle right now. Two of us will get it done faster.”

A sense of urgency fired adrenaline through Zadir’s muscles. He was sure that he was the reason they’d been stranded there and left for dead, and he had no intention of letting his enemy win.

7

“W
hat was that?” Tiny hairs stood up on the back of Ronnie’s neck. The air seemed to grow hotter and more oppressive as they stood outside the plane, wondering how to make it more visible now it was coated with a thick layer of dust. They’d cleaned off the call numbers and the windows. Now the atmosphere around them suddenly seemed to throb.

“A helicopter.” Zadir spun around. “I can hear it but not see it.”

“Oh, my gosh,” her nerves jangled. “We have to make them spot us!”

“I wish we had a flare, but whoever sent us here removed them. We’ll have to wave something. Grab an item of clothing.”

She pulled up a pair of pale ivory pants they’d laid as part of their circle, and he grabbed a white shirt. They started to jump up and down, waving the items over their heads.

Still no sign of a helicopter. Gasping already in the intense heat, she paused for breath. “Has it gone past us?”

“I can still hear it.” He frowned. “I think it’s circling around us. It must be hidden by the high dunes.”

“Do you think it could be the person who disabled the plane?”

She watched him inhale deeply. “Could be. But they may also be our only way out.”

“Not if they shoot us on sight. You need to hide inside the plane.”

“I’m not hiding. I’d rather die in the open.”

Her instincts recoiled against that fate for him, or for her. “Not me. I’d rather live to bring them to justice.”

He scanned the horizon to the south. “I see them. It’s a dark helicopter. I don’t see any markings.”

“What do rescue helicopters look like?”

“The Saudi ones are mostly white, with red stripes.”

She peered at the shape growing larger in the distance, rotors thumping. “That’s not white.” Fear clutched at her chest. “Get inside, Zadir. I mean it. If it’s the bad guys, they can take me back to civilization and I’ll send help for you.” She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him get shot, or worse.

He glowered for a moment. “I don’t want to put you in unnecessary danger. I’ll lay low at least until we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Get in the shade under the wing.” She watched as he crouched in the dark recess. If necessary, she’d use her wits to get them both out of there.

Instead of growing closer, the helicopter continued to circle around the crash site. Frustration gathered inside her. “What the heck? Why aren’t they coming in to land?”

“They’re trying to figure out what’s going on here. I think you were right to have me hide. They want to be sure you’re alone.”

“Then they’ll leave. They’ll know I won’t survive out here.” The prospect chilled her, even in the burning heat of the morning sun.

The throbbing of the rotors echoed the pounding of her heart. Someone out there wanted Zadir dead and didn’t care if she lived or died. Anger flashed through her and she wanted to yell at the dark copter, but she managed to keep her head, and her tongue.

“There’s another helicopter.” Zadir’s low voice rumbled out from beneath the wing. “I can’t see it from down here but I can hear it. Scan the horizon.”

She spun and instantly saw a pale helicopter approaching from the North, the opposite direction of the other. “It’s white. With a red tail.”

“Those are the good guys.”

Without a second’s hesitation she jumped on the wing, glad of her shoes on the burning metal, and started to jump up and down, waving the ivory pants. “Help! Help me!!” Unlike the dark helicopter, the white one changed course and headed straight for them. “Help! We need help!”

She scanned the horizon for the dark copter and saw it disappearing off to the south again. “The first one is leaving.”

“They don’t want to be seen near the scene of the crime,” Zadir said grimly.

“Come on out. They’re heading right for us.”

Zadir jumped up on the wing next to her as the helicopter approached, circled the site and landed about fifty feet from the plane, kicking up a sandstorm to rival last night’s and making them clutch their impromptu flags to their faces to keep the dust out of their eyes and nose.

Men in overalls came running across the sand, calling out in Arabic. Zadir responded, and the men helped them down from the wing. She was tempted to go jump directly onto their waiting helicopter, but Zadir reminded her she might want her computer and phone, if not her clothes, so once their vital signs were checked and they’d drunk some water, they retrieved their possessions from the plane and boarded the helicopter.