Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (22 page)

“In a few months, I haven’t finished editing it yet. To be honest I was stuck in one spot. That’s one of the reasons I brought my brood to Vegas,” Moira replied. “I needed a break from my computer. I’d used every trick in my bag to get it out of my head, but I think I’ve got it beat now.”

“You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club,” Steven quoted, grinning at her.

“That’s Jack London, and it’s the quote that’s on my desktop. I look at it every day before I start writing.”

Steven chuckled, shaking his head. He wasn’t surprised. He imagined that’s exactly how she went after her writing, determined until it was right.

“Maybe my big-shot brother here can help you. He’s pretty creative,” Dane broke in.

A warning look crossed his face. When he’d first called Dane earlier in the day, he told him about his predicament and how Moira and he had met. Dane poked at a very thin veil with his comment. “So where should we go for dinner?” he piped up. “I’m getting hungry.” Moira sat back and looked at him oddly.

“How about Sage at Aria?” Stephanie suggested. “I hear it’s really good.”

He waited for Moira’s input.

“Sure, I guess, I’ve never been there.”

“No, I was thinking something a little farther away,” Dane said slowly. His attention lingered on Moira. “Haven’t you tried to impress her like all the others by taking her up?”

What the fuck was he doing? Moira wasn’t like all the others. He didn’t want to impress her with his toys. He knew that he’d done everything differently with her for one simple reason. He wanted her to look at him as a man, and nothing else.

He’d been forced into telling her who he was, but he hadn’t had a choice with Vince’s invitation for tomorrow night. Helping Moira and her crew replace their possessions was what anyone would do. Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away with the dress and the necklace, but shit, he couldn’t help himself.

Moira appeared confused. Before he opened his mouth, his brother interrupted.

“Come on, Steven,” he said, pausing to look at the women but lingering on Moira again. “Don’t tell me you’ve humbled out.” He turned to Stephanie. “Women just love it when they find out he’s a pilot. It impresses them all to hell.” He gave Steven a wicked grin. “You keep the helo here in Vegas, don’t you?”

A weary look fell into Moira’s eyes. He was going to kill his fucking brother. What the hell was he doing telling her this? Reminding her of his conquests wasn’t helping his tentative grasp on their relationship.

Stephanie yipped. “You’ve got a pilot’s license and a helicopter?” She ogled him like a teenager. “That would be awesome, don’t you think, Moira?” Stephanie stared at her like an excited child hoping Mom would say
yes
to the cookie someone offered.

“Sure,” Moira added calmly. “By the looks of it, you’ve never been in a helicopter before, Steff.”

“No, I haven’t and I’d just love to go. I’ve always wanted a ride in one actually. Oh Steven, would you mind?” Stephanie asked, clamping her hands together.

“Looks like we’re going for a ride, Captain,” Moira said.

He didn’t like the way she said “Captain,” and he knew why. He slid his hand under the table and grasped hers. He didn’t like the cool expression on her face either. “If you want to go, we’ll go. Moira’s an officer with the Coast Guard. I’m sure she’s been in a helicopter before,” he said, eyeing his brother.

He and his brother had passed messages with just a look for years. Being twins had some advantages, but not many. His expression said for him to “fucking straighten up.” Moira was different.

“Actually a lot, but Steff hasn’t, so let’s go.” She pulled her hand from his and rose from the chair.

“Yesss,” Stephanie hissed with excitement.

“We’ll meet you at the airport.” He gave his brother a stern glance, but Stephanie already had his attention, babbling happily.

* * * *

As they drove to the airport, he sensed Moira’s reserve. Dane’s reference to other women hit home, and she withdrew from him. “Riding in a chopper must be like riding in a car to you. I’m sure it’s not a novelty. We don’t have to go,” he said, wanting to break their silence.

“When I was posted to isolation, we had to get in by plane or water. It is exciting the first time. I remember that. Steff will have a great time.” She smiled tightly at him. “When did you get your license?”

“Week ago.” He watched her lips twitch.

“Yeah, right.”

Laughing, he said, “Fifteen years.” He turned onto Paradise Road, heading toward the airport, leaving the monstrous hotels and glitz behind them.

“I suppose you fly more than just a helicopter?”

They stopped for a red light. “I’ve got a couple planes as well.” At least she was talking again.

“I’m not flying to Fiji in a helicopter.” She looked away from him. “When I win our bet,” she added.

“No, we’ll take the jet, but that’s only going to save you the airfare when you lose.”

“I’m not going to lose, big shot.”

“Yes, you are. The Canucks always gets too cocky, and then they sink like the
Titanic
.”

“You’ve been around me too long already.”

He pulled into the left lane, dodging the slower cars “What?”

“You’re a land lubber, and I guess a fly boy, but you’re using marine wrylies now.”

He reached out for her small hand, loving the feel of her skin on his. Her touch centered him somehow.

“You haven’t climbed Mount Everest, too, have you?”

“Not yet,” he said. “Want to come?” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. Whatever body cream she used had already imprinted itself on his brain. The smell of her skin was unique and sensual. Blindfolded, he would be able to find her in a crowd.

A wry grin plastered itself on her face. “Sure—right after you sail around the world in a bathtub with me.”

“When do we leave?” he taunted.

Her eyes narrowed with a look that definitely called him a smartass.

* * * *

After parking in a spot close to three large hangers at the south end of the airport, they only waited a second or two before Dane drove up and parked beside them. They walked toward a small office located in the first hanger where big orange doors yawned open.

“Mr. Porter,” Paul called over his shoulder, as he crouched under the belly of a Cessna. He dropped his tool and wiped his not-so-clean hands on his overalls as he walked toward them.

“How ya doing, Paul? She ready to go?”

“Sure is, Mr. Porter.” He nodded at the rest of the group. “Fuel tank is full and she’s over there.” He jerked his head toward the paved holding area where several small jets and other choppers sat silently waiting for a pilot to take command. “Where ya headed?”

“Think we’ll make a pass over the canyon and then into Sedona.”

“Good evening for that. You’ve got about an hour or so of sunlight left.”

He nodded at his mechanic and drew Moira to his side. “I’d like you to meet Moira, Paul.” Paul surveyed Moira. She wasn’t the first woman he’d taken up in one of his planes, but he’d never once introduced them.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Paul held out his grimy hand. Moira clutched it firmly and shook it, apparently not afraid of a little grease.

“Nice to meet you, Paul. No fronts or sandstorms forecast, I assume?”

Paul’s brows quirked together. “No, ma’am. Winds are two-three-zero at twenty knots, nothing unusual.”

“From the southwest, huh? Well, I guess we’re going.”

Steven watched Paul’s face. Paul looked more than a little impressed.

* * * *

He conducted his preflight checks as his passengers got comfortable. Stephanie was a nonstop babble-fest in the back seat. The checks took longer because he did some twice. Having Moira with him made him cautious. He grinned to himself when she nonchalantly grabbed the headphones off the hook and slipped them onto her head. She automatically adjusted the mike an inch away from her lips. Give her a headset, and she’s in her element, he thought.

He flicked the vox switch to activate the sets so they could hear each other. “Everyone ready?” The blades began their slow, whining startup.

“Honey, you’re gonna have to be quiet for a little bit,” Dane said to Stephanie.

Her constant tongue wagging sounded ten times louder in their ears.

“Sorry, sorry.” She reached forward, patting his shoulder quickly. “I’m just so excited, Steven.”

“Do you have to request clearance to depart from the tower?” Moira asked.

He just about came in his pants when he heard her voice through the headset. She normally had a sexy voice, but something crazy happened when it flowed through the electronics. She knew just the right pitch to use to make it clear, but each word vibrated with sex. Christ, it was like seven years totally evaporated, and he closed his eyes for a second, remembering her voice on the yacht. When he opened his eyes to see the woman it came from, his heart stopped. Why hadn’t he gone to find her seven years ago? He suddenly realized it was the biggest fucking mistake he’d ever made in his life.

He tuned the radio to the tower frequency. “You’re on, sweetheart.” He pointed at the chopper’s call sign and nodded toward a small card stuck in the side panel.

She picked it up and read it quickly. “I know vessel traffic, not air traffic.” He grinned at her and shrugged. She didn’t skip a beat, keying the press to talk when she heard a pause in the radio communications. “Las Vegas Tower, this is helicopter Six-Three-Nine-Mike Lima, Atlantic Aviation, requesting clearance to depart, Sharp Delta for Sedona over.”

An abnormally long pause silenced the frequency. He figured the controller and about a thousand other men shifted to rearrange the bulge in their pants that had suddenly grown. “Helicopter Six-Three-Nine-Mike Lima, squawk 0400 ident.” The controller’s voice came back with a huskier tone and dripping interest. Steven definitely heard the difference, and he knew Moira must have. She bit her lip and eyed him innocently.

He activated the transponder to identify their craft. “Nine-Mike-Lima identing,” Moira advised.

The controller came back, “Nine-Mike-Lima, you’re cleared to depart.” Then he added a traffic advisory and instructions. “Helicopter Nine-Mike-Lima, radar contact. Proceed via Sharp Delta. Remain west of the strip. Have a safe trip, ma’am.”

“Roger, thanks.”

“Have a safe trip my ass,” Steven murmured. He took one look around the cockpit. “That’s our clearance.” He engaged the craft, and they lifted into the air. He couldn’t help wondering if the controller was asking for a bathroom break to go jack off.

He pulled them off the ground in a smooth lift and arced toward the strip. Within seconds, they hovered higher than the peak on the Luxor. He caught Moira looking to the sky for traffic conflict instead of the scenery. What a woman!

* * * *

Seeing the strip from the air, like everything else from the air, was very different. Steven took a slow pass, following a route between I-15 and the strip, obeying the tower’s instructions, then headed east toward the Grand Canyon.

It only took them a few minutes to get to Hoover Dam. Steven flew at 2,500 feet, keeping out of the way of other helicopter traffic in the area. Steven flew the craft with no hesitation, always thinking before making an alteration, and in complete command. It made her insides curl knowing this all-together man saw something in her that he liked—a lot. Liquid heat poured through her body. The feeling reminded her of the excitement before Christmas morning when she was little, nearly unbearable.

She glanced back at Stephanie, who wore a Joker-like grin plastered on her lips as her tongue flapped on high speed.