Turbulent Intentions(47)

“Oh no, of course not. It’s beautiful and more than I could have imagined. I just don’t want to be invading your space for too long,” she hurriedly said.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m enjoying the company.”

She wanted to run fast and far away. Before she could excuse herself without seeming rude, though, his gaze zeroed in on her again.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Stormy? I know nothing,” he said, leaning back, but not letting her escape those fantastic green eyes.

“There’s really nothing to tell. I’ve led an uneventful life,” she lied.

His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit for a moment before the expression disappeared.

“I don’t believe that. I bet you’ve had an exciting life, traveled to exotic places, and sought out adventure,” he countered.

“Nope. Really, nothing like that,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Why don’t you tell me what it’s like to be a pilot?”

If she could turn the attention away from herself then she would be much better off here. He stared at her for several heartbeats, and then he must have decided to let her off the hook.

“I flew as a hobby from the time I was young. I never dreamed of making it a career, but when it came time to decide what I was going to do the rest of my life, the only thing I could think about was airplanes. So here I am,” he said with a shrug.

“There’s got to be more. How does it make you feel knowing you are responsible for so many lives?” she questioned, not realizing that she’d leaned toward him.

“When I first got my stripes and was a copilot on Alaska Airlines I would walk through the airport and kids would stop me, asking for autographs, their eyes filled with wonder. It took me back to the days when I was a young boy so enamored with pilots.”

“Yeah, I was pretty in awe of pilots myself when I traveled,” she admitted, forgetting she didn’t want to share information with him.

“Are you still enamored with them?” he asked with a wink.

Stormy found herself blushing again. It was ridiculous. It was just a comment that shouldn’t have mattered at all. She’d been flirted with before. But it wasn’t normally by men whom she had slept with or whom she still wanted to have sex with.

Dang it! No, she didn’t want to have sex with the man. Once had been enough.

“I think I’m over my fascination,” she finally said.

“That’s too bad,” he said with a pout that made her laugh.

“Let me do the cleanup since you made dinner,” she said as she stood. This dinner was getting to be too dang intimate for her.

“I insist on helping you.” He stood up, and together they cleared the table and began doing dishes.

When they were finished, the grandfather clock chimed the late hour. Cooper yawned and leaned back against the counter.

“It’s getting late,” she said as she realized the time. It was unnerving how easily they had slipped into a happy domestic rhythm.

“I guess we should go to bed then,” Cooper said, and the look he sent her told Stormy he wouldn’t mind it being the same bed.

As much as she didn’t want to be tempted by that, she couldn’t help that she was.

“Yes, it’s time for bed,” she said quietly. “Good night, Cooper. Thank you for a perfect dinner and an even better conversation. And thanks for the room.”

She turned away, not wanting to add anything else. She was at the bottom of the stairs when he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

Without a word he tugged her toward him, grabbing her hips and pulling her against the hardness in his slacks so she had no doubt he was turned on. Then he kissed her, making her knees shake as his hands tugged on her hair.

She moaned into his mouth, unable to stop her reaction to this man who had been touching her all night, who was on her mind nonstop. When he lifted her leg and pressed even more tightly against her, she felt an ache she hadn’t felt for six long years.

This man did this to her, made her into a wanton woman, made her want to forget about anything and everything except for him and the pleasure he could and surely would bring to her.

She was almost ready to beg for more when he released her. His eyes were dark as he gazed at her.

“Anything you feel like telling me?” he asked, his fingers tracing her lower back.

She was stunned into silence for several tense moments.

“No . . . ,” she finally answered on a shaky breath.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before he released her. She had to grip the rail and pray she could remain upright.

“Good night, Stormy. Sleep well.” His tone of voice told her the opposite.