SOS Marry Me!. Melissa McClone

smile erupted across Kane’s face. The effect—devastatingly charming. Serena moistened her lips, trying not to stare.

      “Juicy, huh? Thanks.” He placed his empty glass on the table. “It’s not often I get a compliment from an esteemed piece of arm candy.”

      “It’s not often I give them.” Uh-oh. She was flirting. But she kind of liked how it felt. “Do you want that drink now?”

      “I’ll take a rain check.”

      A twinge of disappointment ran through her. Ridiculous.

      Serena was just having a little fun. Nothing more. She knew what she wanted to find. It sure wasn’t Kane Wiley.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE next afternoon, Kane eyed the altocumulus clouds to the west. No immediate danger there. The weather service had issued an icing advisory at high altitudes, but they’d be flying below the problem. His plane was only certified to forty-five thousand feet. Still he wanted to get in the air.

      As soon as his passenger got off her damn pink cell phone.

      “Yes, Belle,” Serena said. “Both the local paper and the magazine took photos.”

      “Hang up,” Kane ordered. “Time to go.”

      Serena held up a single, slim finger in response: One minute.

      He’d already given up more than a minute.

      Back at the convention center, photographers had swarmed The Wedding Belles’ booth, snapping pictures and jotting down quotes from Serena. She really was some kind of hotshot in the wedding world.

      Kane had suffered the commotion as well and as long as he could. He could see success was important to her. Anyway, his dad was paying for his time. Complaining wasn’t going to get him anything but a headache.

      But after the Suit had shown up, eager to shower Serena with congratulations and kisses and who knew what else, Kane’s patience had evaporated. He wasn’t a clocks-and-schedules kind of guy, but the weather system pushing down from Canada wasn’t waiting while Serena played kissy-face with her designer buddy.

      Now Kane was waiting again. The plane had been fueled. He had loaded their food and luggage, filed his flight plan and completed his walk-around. It was time—past time—to go.

      “Get in the plane.”

      She raised her index finger again, like a dog trainer hushing a barking pooch.

      Kane bit back a growl and grabbed her phone.

      “She’s got to go,” he said into the tiny receiver. “She’ll call you later.”

      He switched off the phone and tossed it into the plane, onto her seat.

      “What did you do that for?” Lines creased Serena’s forehead. “I was only on the phone for a couple of minutes.”

      “Try twenty,” he corrected.

      Serena opened her mouth then pressed her lips together. She entered the plane. He followed her.

      “A couple storms are brewing with a low pressure system off the Pacific.” Kane locked the door. “There’s weather in Canada that’s moving south.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

      “You were on the phone.”

      Serena removed her coat. Took her a pad out of her bag. Sat down.

      Kane recognized the silent treatment. The way her eyes avoided his. Amber used to do that. So did a lot of other women. He wouldn’t let Serena make him feel guilty. Not when she should be apologizing to him.

      “The weather shouldn’t affect us,” he said. “But keep your seat belt fastened in case we hit any turbulence.”

      She buckled herself up. “Not a problem.”

      “There’s food in the galley, but be quick about it because of the—”

      “Turbulence,” she finished for him. “I will, and, Kane…”

      “Yeah.”

      “I’m sorry for taking so long.” Her gaze captured his, her big blue eyes apologetic. Appealing. Not like Amber at all. Not like any other of the women in his life. “I know you delayed our departure back at the convention center, and I really appreciate that, but I was excited. I wanted to share the news of all the good publicity and photo ops with my friends.”

      He grunted. “No worries.”

      Kane lied.

      He was worried plenty. Not about the weather. He was a good pilot. Surface wind speeds were acceptably low, and the system coming in was moving slowly enough that it shouldn’t be a problem.

      His reaction to her, however, was a whole other story.

      Kane was upset at her. Serena stared out the small window at the overcast sky.

      Even though he’d accepted her apology, she could tell he didn’t like being made to wait. She didn’t like waiting, either. Time to make it up to him?

      Not necessary, a voice in her head whispered.

      He’d been a jerk.

      He’d grabbed her phone.

      He’d hung up on Belle.

      Kane had explained all that. She could forgive his impatience to get in the air. She wasn’t quite as ready to let go of his brusque rejection last night.

      Then it’s a good thing I’m not your girl, isn’t it?

      A damn good thing.

      Serena bit her lip. Kane hadn’t even let her buy him a beer. He’d wanted a “rain check.”

      Not that she cared. Not much anyway.

      Unless his wanting a “rain check” was his way of seeing her in Boston. Maybe it was time to find out.

      They hadn’t hit any turbulence. Now that they were at cruising altitude, Serena unfastened her seat belt and went to the galley that reminded her more of a refreshment center than an actual kitchen. Still the efficiently designed space made it easy to pour a cup of coffee, find two freshly baked cookies and put them on a napkin. She carried everything to the cockpit.

      Payback? Or peace offering?

      Either way, she didn’t want to owe Kane anything.

      “I brought you a snack,” she said.

      He glanced back. “What?”

      “Coffee and chocolate-chip cookies.” He liked chocolate, she remembered. “I, um, owe you a drink, remember? There wasn’t any cream—”

      “Black is fine.” He took the food from her. “Thanks.”

      Okay, she was done now. “I’ll be going back.”

      “Come on up,” he said at the same time.

      Kane motioned to the other seat. “Sit up here for a while.”

      Serena stared at the high-tech-looking instrument panel with a small computerlike device between the two pilot seats. Not a lot of space up here.

      She glanced at the cabin. Safer, back there.

      “Plenty of room,” Kane said. “This baby’s simple enough for one pilot, but it can be flown by two.”

      “I can’t fly.”

      His attractive mouth curved. “But you can sit, right?”

      She crawled into the seat and peered out the window. The one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view took her breath away. Clouds blanketed the sky as far as she could see. She couldn’t tell where the ground was or where the sky ended. Forget about locating