Crashed into Love: Boxed Set (5 page)

Without warning, he flung me out and wrapped me
around his body in a spin. I went willingly, rolling around his frame till I
was back to his front.
Okay, I admit. He can dance
.

Smiling, he placed one hand on my breastbone and
pushed so I folded backward. My back arched and my long hair swept the sticky
dance floor. Our hips were glued together, and the friction of the dip between
us had my lungs seizing.

A flush rose over my entire body as Nikolai pulled
me from my arch and swayed me to the beat again.

The rest was a blur.

Dip, spin, swirl, touch.

My brain tried to register the overload of places
his hands caressed, but the music stole my annoyance, and I relished in the
motion. Somehow a simple side-step for the Merengue became charged with sexual
tension. Each twist and pressure of his limbs against mine made me ache with
need. I went from flirty dancer to sexy seductress who wished clothes were
optional.

We bumped and grinded. I swished my head and arched
into him. I allowed the entire act of sex kitten and killer dancer to become my
persona and forgot my strict goals and dreams. I was nothing but Nina: flesh,
sweat, and music in that moment. It was heaven. And far too intoxicating.

I didn’t know how many songs we danced, but the
flourish of a Lambada finished and Nikolai whirled me into a dramatic spin and
dip. He jerked me upright, pressing me hard against him. His arms trembled with
my weight, and I allowed a quick peek at the well-defined bicep.

Our lips were so close, and my eyes locked on his.
My heart jack-knifed from exertion as much as with anticipation, and I wished,
for an insane moment, that he’d kiss me. Frozen in that moment of fragile
silence, waiting for the next song to begin, every part of my body screamed for
his.

The music started again with gusto; I struggled to
concentrate—to stay lucid and not give into the pulsing desire. I needed to
distance myself from the man holding me, dancing with me, but my self-control
snapped, and I let go.

The music crashed over us, carrying me away with its
tempo. I let myself run burning fingertips over Nikolai’s skin: his arms,
collarbone, hips; to breathe in deep when he brought me crashing back from a
spiral. And I felt no shame as I ran my hands through his sweaty hair as he
twirled me out and in, pressing his head against my neck as we dropped to the
floor together, my thighs burning as we crouched, all the while keeping up the
beat.

By the time multiple songs travelled through our
limbs, I was parched for water. I patted my throat as signal to have a break,
and we threaded through the crowd. I was hyperaware that Nikolai never let go
of my hand.

I chugged down some icy-cold water in a very
unladylike fashion and scrunched my face as an ice-cream headache slammed into
me.
Ouch.

“You’re an excellent dancer,” Nikolai murmured in my
ear; his breath was hot and every part of me clenched. His husky whisper
dredged up feelings inside I wished would remain buried.

“Where did you learn?” The timbre of his voice
continued to do wonderful but scary things to my stomach.

I rubbed my mouth, dispelling a lone water droplet.
“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t know the club.” And he certainly didn’t need to
know I learned from my ex who chose me from a bunch of beginners to become his
dance partner in competitions. We won. A lot. But no matter how much I tried, I
could never keep the fire in his eyes when we stepped off the dance floor. I
should’ve realised sooner that he wasn’t interested.

He used me.

That was the day I stopped trying to please others
and decided to please myself.

Enrolling into aeronautical school and taking my
first accompanied flight in a Tomahawk aircraft had been my way of flipping off
my ex. It had been the most exhilarating moment of my life and one that
cemented my career forever. I wanted to be a pilot. I wanted it more than
anything. Even dancing, which was saying a lot.

Once our breathing steadied, Nikolai held out his
hand. “More?”

I waged a battle inside. If I danced with him
longer, he might think there was more between us. That was the frustrating and
delicious thing: there
was
something more between us. But damned if I’d
give in to the blood-pulsing lust conjured from rubbing against each other all
night. It wasn’t logical—it wasn’t going to go beyond the dance floor.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I have work tomorrow. My
shift starts early.”

He sighed heavily, but didn’t push it. “No problem.
Another time.” His eyes clouded, and I caught myself wanting to say ‘what the
hell—let’s dance for years’ just to dispel his disappointment.

Ignoring the pang of regret, I inconspicuously tugged
the clammy post-it from my bra, and reclaimed my bag from the barman.

I smiled at Nikolai. “Thanks for a great night. I
had fun.”

Nikolai ran hands through his damp hair. “Me too.
Sucks it has to end so soon, though.” Tilting his head he gestured for me to go
ahead of him. “I’ll walk you out—if you’re sure you have to go?”

I paused. How easy it would be to throw my bag
behind the bar and grab his hand. To melt into his hard embrace and allow the
rhythm to sweep us to somewhere erotic and heated. It was my turn to sigh
heavily. “Yes, I’m sure.”

It took longer than I expected to dodge our way
toward the exit, and the sweet caress of cool air and quietness was a relief
after the loud club. My ears rang slightly from the deafening music.

Shoving his hands into his black jean pockets,
Nikolai started, “So—” Confidence deserted him and his eyes focused anywhere
but me.

Ah, wasn’t that sweet—he was nervous. He acted as if
this was a date and it was time to get the first kiss out of the way. Silly
man. I wouldn’t have objected to a kiss, but it was best if we both ended on a
platonic note.

I stuck my hand out. “It’s been a blast. Thanks very
much.”

He stared at my palm with wide eyes. “What? That’s
it? You’re just going to disappear?” He stepped into my personal bubble. “Tell
me you didn’t feel the heat between us when dancing?”

I dropped my gaze, fiddling with my bag. This was
awkward. What was I supposed to say? Yes, I want to be ravished by you? Hardly
appropriate when I’d known him for a few measly hours. I steeled myself and
looked up. “There was a spark.”

His eyes glowed and he opened his mouth to speak,
but I held up my hand. “But, that’s to be expected when two people dance well
together. All that bumping and grinding. It’s hard not to be attracted.”

He frowned. “I agree there’s always a residue of
attraction conjured from dancing, but I know I’ve never been so interested in
getting to know a woman before. You’re obviously kind for taking pity on me and
moving my seat on the flight, you dance wickedly hot…and, you remind me of
someone I used to know.”

His admission made my throat dry to a husk; I
swallowed in shock. Every part of my body tightened. Dammit. Now what should I
say?

“I really have to go,” I blurted, backing away from
him.
Great, very smooth.

He followed, eyes darkening. “At least let me walk
you back to your hotel. How far away is it?”

“No, it’s okay. I can find a taxi. No big deal. I’m
sure you’ve gotta be somewhere, too.” I needed to get away from him. My fragile
grip on my self-control quickly frayed, and if he sprouted sonnets about lust
and heat again, I might not be accountable for my actions.

Nikolai stopped following, saying, “No, I don’t have
anywhere I need to be. I’m here on an overnight, like you.”

I stopped; my eyes popped wide. “Really? What do you
do?” It occurred to me it was strange having this conversation after our bodies
had been all over each other. The entire evening had been a bit backward. First
flames of passion, then the awkward ‘getting to know you’ conversation.

“I’m an engineer. I flew here to work on a 747-400
that has issues with the electronics.”

I cocked my head, reassessing him. He had brains,
was a hell of a dancer, and I guessed was mid to late twenties. “Where are you
from?”

His gaze softened. “I’m Russian-American, but I
moved to Middle Earth when I was younger. Mainly to study.”

“To New Zealand?” The incredibility in my voice was
loud. “
Why
would you move to New Zealand? Surely a large country like
America has better universities for that sort of thing?”

He shook his head, running a hand through his sweaty
brown hair. “Not for gliding. The township of Omarama, New Zealand, holds the
Guinness world record for the best wind thermals for gliding. That’s where I’ve
been learning my PPL.” He smiled. “That’s a Private—”

I interrupted. “I know what a PPL is. I have one
myself.” I wanted to slap a hand over my mouth. Why did I tell him that? It was
supposed to remain a secret. Instead, I blabbered about it like it wasn’t my
soul I bared for judgement.

His mouth fell open. “Seriously? You dance and fly?
Where have you been all my life, you perfect woman?”

He expected me to laugh. I could tell, but I wasn’t
laughing. The tendrils of interest in my own heart hammered a warning gong. I’d
been a flight attendant for one teeny-tiny day. I had no intention of getting
to know a man who might jeopardise my career by making me so infatuated I’d
quit and give up my dreams of being a pilot.

I pulled my phone from my bag. “Oh, look at the
time. I really must be going.”

I stormed away. Hoping I looked mad, rather than
flustered.

“Call me!” Nikolai shouted.

Ignoring him, I hopped into a taxi that pulled to
the curb with the most perfect timing in the world.

S
leep shattered like
splintered glass. Where was I? What the hell was that
noise?

Comprehension dawned as the shrill ringing killed my
ear drums. I wrenched the phone off the cradle, rubbing sleep from my eyes with
my other hand. “Hello?”

“Nina? Are you alright?” Liam’s voice rippled in my
ear. Sounding crisp, masculine, and entirely too chipper for this time of the
morning.
Time! Shit, what was the time?

I groaned, burrowing into my pillows. “I over slept.
Didn’t I?”

Liam chuckled. “Yep. The girls and Anderson left ten
minutes ago.” His voice deepened apologetically. “I’m really sorry. I meant to
arrange wakeup calls for all of us and forgot. It’s my fault you’re late, so
I’ll wait for you.”

Shooting upright, seeing stars, my heart rate kicked
into panic mode. “Just let me throw on my uniform. I’ll be right down.”

“Great. I’m in the lobby. See you soon.”

I didn’t think an Olympic sprinter could’ve dressed
as fast as I did. Lungs wheezing, body burning, I slapped clothes and make-up
on, and crushed everything into my suitcase.

My hotel room door slammed behind me as I charged
down the corridor to the bank of elevators.

Liam slouched against a marble pillar. His briefcase
was on the floor next to a black duffel bag. He straightened and collected his
belongings the moment he saw me.

I darted over to him, careful not to slip on the
glossy tiles in my heels. “God, I can’t tell you how sorry—”

Liam shook his head. “Tell me in the taxi. Come on.”
He jogged to the awaiting cab and threw our bags into the trunk. I dove into
the back seat, expecting Liam to take the front again. My eyes widened as he
slid into the back with me.

Leaning forward, he said to the cabbie, “We’re
running late so the quickest you can get us to the airport the better.”

“Sure thing, Captain. Leave the driving to me.” The
guy grinned.

Liam threw me a look. “Everyone thinks I’m a captain
when I’m not with Anderson.” Pointing to his shoulder embroidery, he said, “I
don’t think people know how many epaulettes you need to be in charge.”

I did. Four.

Shyness and embarrassment smothered me as we
screeched into traffic. How could I sleep in on my first overnight? How did I
think I could earn the stripes decorating Liam’s shoulders if I couldn’t even
set an alarm?

Liam didn’t say anything for a few kilometres while
he texted on his phone. No doubt telling the crew he’d collected the tardy
flight attendant and to organise the paperwork to fire her.

I shook my head at my stupidity. It seemed as if I
were cursed. Everything I did landed me into trouble. For the first time in my
life, I kinda wished I
did
have Mary Poppins’ skills and could step into
a pastel painting and leave the endless embarrassment behind.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve over slept
four times.” Liam turned his body to face me, smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes away from the
shirt clinging to his chest. “I am worried about it. If Ms. Klein finds out—”

“Ms. Klein has gone back to the head office. She’ll
never know.”

My fists curled, hating that I came across as such a
dopey airhead. I stared out the window, thought-kicking myself.

* * * * *

Joslyn and Samantha beamed and clapped when Liam and
I appeared in the crew room at Sydney airport.

I blushed and Liam whispered in my ear, “Don’t feel
embarrassed. You’re not a shift worker unless you’ve been late multiple times.
I’m sure next week it’ll be Joslyn’s turn.” He chuckled, raising his voice and
shooting his step-sister a look. “Plus, at least you didn’t get frisky and try
to hide the evidence with a scarf.”

A smile broke over my face; I laughed.

Joslyn threw a pen at Liam. “I thought you didn’t
notice.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Jos. A scarf?
Seriously? It’s a foghorn announcing you’ve got a hickey—especially seeing as
you never wear them.”

Anderson appeared from the small alcove where printers
and computers were. “Ah, now that the crew is together, I have some news.”

All eyes trained on the captain as he shuffled
paperwork in his hands.

“We’ve been reassigned. We aren’t flying back to New
Zealand. We’re taking over for a crew who’ve become violently ill with food
poisoning. We’re now flying to Samoa, before overnighting in Sydney again.” He
looked at Liam. “We need to revise the flight plans and talk to operations.”
Glancing at Sam, Jos, and I, he added, “We’ll see you on the plane. Head to gate
fifty-seven.”

Liam shrugged. “Work has begun, ladies. See you on
the otherside.”

The moment Liam rounded the corner, Joslyn pounced
on me. “Oh my God, did you sleep with my brother?”

“What? No! He saved me from being the latest hosty
in history. That’s all.”

Samantha rested her head on my shoulder. “But he’s
so dreamy… you weren’t tempted to sneak a kiss in the taxi at least?”

Snorting, I stretched. My corset was extremely
tight. I hadn’t had time to eat last night after dancing, and with my mad rush
this morning, I hadn’t had breakfast either. I’d pulled the boning tight in the
hopes the laces would squeeze my stomach into thinking it was smaller and
therefore full.

“No, there was no temptation. He’s a colleague. A
pilot. Also known as a ‘no touching zone’.”

Samantha rolled her dark eyes. “As much as I want to
talk about boys, we better head to the plane.”

Joslyn pranced to the door. “You chickies ready to
serve coffee at ten thousand feet?”

Samantha grinned, lugging her baggage behind her.
“Yep. You girls are my minions to boss around, seeing as I’m the senior
attendant. Let’s hope you’re fully-fledged flighties and qualified to serve hot
drinks in the sky.”

I squeezed her, trepidation swimming in my veins. 
“When do we find out if we passed the line exam or not?”

“Maybe on the flight?” Sam shrugged and the three of
us hurried through the terminal and toward our aircraft. Why an airport was
called a terminal I had no idea. The word conjured death in my mind—like
terminal cancer or illness. The airport should be called ‘escaping your real
life building’ or something more upbeat.

I was struck with a sudden thought. “Hey, Sam? Where
did you get to last night?”

Joslyn answered for her. “Oh, you don’t know? Sam
has a
friend
in the city. She stayed with him.” She made kissing noises
and ducked Sam’s cat-swipe.

“He’s gay, Joslyn. And a childhood friend.”

Joslyn nodded. “Uh huh. Sure… gay.”

We laughed as we entered the air bridge. It reeked
of disinfectant, and a pretty Asian woman in an airport uniform smiled when we
crossed the threshold of the aircraft. “You have one hundred and thirty-seven
passengers today. No VIP’s or UM’S.

Thank God for that. I didn’t feel like sucking up to
any VIP, and I definitely couldn’t face an unaccompanied minor—also known as
unaccompanied monster.

Samantha took the manifest while Joslyn and I stowed
our bags. I smoothed my roughly-done ponytail as the pilots arrived on board.
Both Anderson and Liam wore their blazers and hats. The gold thread glinted
expensively from the midnight fabric. My mouth dried up, unable to tear my eyes
away from the resplendent vision of Liam in his uniform.

Anderson smiled at us before disappearing into the
cockpit.

Liam paused. “Nina. Can I have a word?”

My heart kick-started, but I remained unruffled,
which was hard against his manly, piloty perfection. Again my heart did a
stupid swoon and I straightened. A piece of corset boning dug into my side, and
I used it as a distraction against his deliciousness.

I was turning into a tramp. My attraction to Nikolai
last night wasn’t normal and the moment I was around Liam my body took over to
become a tightly wound Liam-awareness fanatic. I really needed to get it under
control.

“Sure. What about?” My voice was professional and warm.
I silently praised myself for my composure.

“Can we go down to the rear galley?”

My eyes shot down the aisle. There was no one in the
rear galley. Why did he want to talk to me alone? “Is this about my exam
results?” Panic took hold. “I passed, didn’t I?”

He didn’t answer, instead gave me a stern look and
cocked his head in the direction of the back of the plane.

Choking back my disappointment, I traipsed down the
aisle and spun to face him the second we were obscured from the others. “I know
I was terribly unorganised this morning and let everyone down, but I really
want this job.” My eyes dropped. “Did I fail the exam? Am I fired?” Oh God, I
sucked even before I started.

Liam kept an unreadable look in his eyes. “It isn’t
good.”

I covered my face with my hands. How could I be so
cocky and think I passed? I wanted to scream. Instead, a whimpering noise
escaped my throat.

Liam’s hand rested on my shoulder, blazing with
heat.

I froze.

He laughed. “Nina, I’m sorry. That was cruel. You’re
not fired. We’ve just found out you earned the highest results. Ms. Klein was
very impressed. As am I.”

I peeked through my fingers, rolling my shoulders to
loosen his hold on me. “So—this was all a joke?”

His lips curled. “No, I did want to talk to you, but
you left yourself wide open on that one.”

No wonder Joslyn gave him grief. What a horrid joke
to pull! I slapped his chest. “That was low.” I struggled to stay mad, but his
glowing grin was hard to ignore.

He grunted, rubbing his shirt with a fake-wounded
expression. “That’s what I get for hauling your butt out of bed this morning?
Beaten up?”

Images of him in bed turned my thoughts to goo. I
blinked. “Um—” Then fear chilled me. I really didn’t want people to think there
was something going on with us. Showing up to work together, late. Talking at
the back of the plane, alone. The rumour mill would be rife with misleading
information. My career would be ruined. “Look, Co-pilot Mikin.”

Liam’s eyebrows shot up at the use of his last name.

“I know I’m new, and you’re related to a good friend
of mine, so the lines are slightly blurred, but I’m not new to the whole ‘being
swept away by the pilot’s charms’. Whatever you’re doing,” I waved at his
tempting physique, “it won’t work. Go flirt with Samantha…”

Liam reclined against the trolleys. “I’m not trying
to get you into bed, you know.”

I crossed my arms. “Uh huh. I’ve heard the
reputation you have.”

He frowned. “You also heard Jos tell the truth. You
even said it yourself—I’m not a man-slut.” His icy eyes glittered. “Don’t believe
everything you hear. The reason I’m trying to be your friend is because I saw
you around a lot in your training and wanted to say how happy I am you’re part
of our crew.”

Why did that sound like a big spiel?

He leaned in, brushing a stand of hair that had come
loose from my ponytail.

“That’s hardly appropriate,” I whispered, even as my
skin shivered under his touch. Dammit all to hell; he dripped delicious
temptation.

He pulled back. Taking his hat off, he ran hands
through his blue-black locks. “Look, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea...
but I want to help you.”

My mouth fell open. “Help me as in
sleep
with
me?” I saw now where Joslyn got all her sexual banter from.

Shaking his head, he gave me an exasperated look.
“No. I don’t want to sleep with you. ”

A pang of hurt lanced me. Why didn’t he want to
sleep with me? Was I not attractive enough?
Holy crap, Nina. You don’t want
to sleep with him. Who cares?

Liam sighed and reclined further against the
trolley, crossing his ankles. It was an undeniable sexy pose and drew my eyes
down to his trousers. I looked straight back up again the minute I realised
what I was looking at.

“I guess I’ll come right out and say it,” he said.

“Yes, please do as I have no clue what is going on
here.” Heat flushed my cheeks from embarrassment as much as an unbearable
awareness of him. The plane wasn’t big enough for the two of us. I had to stop
looking at his trousers.

“I know your flying instructor. Theo and I go way
back. We trained together, and we even did a one year contract in the Gulf.”

That was totally not what I expected, and I was
strangely annoyed this pilot knew my flying instructor. Did he know everyone
around me? First Joslyn, now my flying coach. I wasn’t a jealous person, and I
didn’t think of Theo that way—but in a way he was mine. He was the one who gave
me my wings, who bought me a drink to celebrate passing my theory exam.