Christmas Secrets Collection. Laura Iding

out of the elevator.

      Of course she had. She’d worked late the day before, getting everything set up. She handed him his coffee. “Yes. Mexicana Airlines. One stopover in Mexico City and then on to the international airport at Tuxtla Gutiérrez, the capital city of the state of Chiapas. We can get a taxi from there to …” She let the words trail off as she saw that he was shaking his head. “Is there a problem?”

      He took the lid off his coffee, sniffed it the way he always did and then enjoyed a careful sip. “Cancel the flight.”

      She blinked. “Excuse me?”

      “How are you in small planes?”

      “With enough Dramamine, anything is possible, but—”

      “Good. I’m going to fly us.”

      Not in her plan. Not in the least. “Dax …”

      “Don’t argue. Just do it.”

      “If I could only make one little point …”

      “You’re boring me, Zoe.”

      “Too bad. I intend to make my point and my point is that readers like to know how you got there—on a commercial flight, just the way that they will. Especially since this is supposed to be a budget destination.”

      His smile was annoyingly smug. “Now you know more than I do about what readers want in a Spotlight?”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      “But you sure as hell are thinking it. Cancel the reservation. We’re going to have some fun.”

      The way he said that kind of scared her. “I, um, didn’t know you were a pilot.”

      He gave her a look of endless patience. “I may be in magazine publishing now, but I spent years adventuring in the wilds, from Borneo to the South Pole.”

      As if she didn’t know that. “Yes, but—”

      “I’ve been flying small planes since I was too young to drive a car. Cancel the flights.”

      She ground her teeth together and reminded herself that he was the boss, that she was very grateful to him for giving her this chance when she’d been his assistant for only a month. “Yes, Dax. All right.”

      “I love it when you’re obsequious. It happens so seldom. And guess what?”

      “I have no idea.”

      “I’ve already found our photographer.” He paused, sipped more coffee.

      “I’m listening.” No, she had no illusions it was going to be her.

      And it wasn’t. “I called Ramón Esquevar. He’ll be in Guatemala next week and he’s promised to meet us in San Cristóbal.”

      Okay, she was totally impressed. She sighed. She couldn’t help it. Esquevar was world-class. His photographs appeared in Time and National Geographic. She’d always hoped someday she might meet him. Now she would get to watch him work.

      Dax was grinning at her. “You’re speechless.”

      She let her smile bloom wide. “Esquevar. I can hardly believe it. That’s fabulous.”

      “We got lucky. The timing just happened to be right for him.” He spotted her ring finger, where a ring that looked exactly like the one she had broken the day before glittered, big and bright. “That was fast.”

      She kept on smiling. Let him think what he wanted. She’d gone back to the same shop last night, got there just before it closed. The tattooed shopkeeper had dug up another ring for her—even given her a discount after she gave him a hard time for selling shoddy goods.

      Dax sipped his coffee and watched her for a minute, no doubt waiting for her to confess that there was no Johnny and there never had been.

      She did no such thing. The deception might be a little frayed around the edges. But it still did the job, still made it clear to Dax—to both of them—that she was off-limits to him as a potential bed partner.

      Finally, he growled at her, “What are you grinning about? Why aren’t you working?” and turned and disappeared into his office.

      The rest of that week and the one that followed were hectic. There were a thousand and one things to do before they could be ready to go. And the time line to get everything in order was scarily short. Preparations for the Spotlight trips usually took months of careful planning. But not this time. Dax had decided they were changing everything up. And Dax, after all, was the boss.

      Over a stolen hour for lunch the Friday before they left, Lin said it was his nature. “Things go too smoothly for too long, he can’t stand it. He needs challenge, a little crisis theater, some spice in his life.”

      Zoe sipped her iced tea. “You know he’s flying us?”

      “Why not? He owns three or four planes. Might as well use one of them.”

      “A small plane, he said. A single-engine plane. Ugh.”

      “Look on the bright side. Commercial flights are a zoo these days, planes breaking down, the nightmare of security checkpoints. With an airline, you could land in Mexico City and never leave.”

      “We have to stop just over the border at Nuevo Laredo anyway, and deal with customs. The checklist of papers we have to carry and file is endless. We even had to get third-party liability insurance from a Mexican company.”

      Lin waved a hand. “Travel’s a pain, it’s true.”

      “That’s not what I’m talking about. I love to travel, under any circumstances. I love luxury destinations. And I don’t mind roughing it.”

      “But you hate small planes, is that it?”

      “No, I can take a small plane. I get a little motion sickness, but I have the pills to handle that.”

      Lin shrugged. “Then what is it? Is Johnny upset that you’ll be gone for a week?”

      “No. Of course not. Johnny … supports me. Completely.”

      “Then what is the problem?”

      Zoe thought about Dax. His honed razor of a mind, his hot body. His gorgeous bedroom eyes that could look so low-lidded and sensual, but somehow always saw way too much. She loved her job. She would not lose it. And she had this feeling lately that Dax had set out to purposely tempt her.

      Just the two of them, in a small plane. It seemed … dangerous—though, really, how could it be? He would be flying the damn thing. No way would he have a chance to try convincing her of the benefits of joining the mile-high club.

      And even if he did break his own rule and make a pass, well, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. She had her priorities in order. Ending up in bed with Dax was at the very top of her list—her never-to-do list.

      “Zoe. Yoo-hoo. You’re zoning out on me here….”

      Zoe blinked away her worries and pasted on a bright smile. “Sorry. You’re right. The small plane thing is fine. It’s perfect. The whole trip is perfect. I don’t know why I’m complaining. I’m going to meet Ramón Esquevar. It’s my first Spotlight, one I came up with myself, and I’m thrilled to be going. There is no problem. No problem at all.”

      They were in the air at eight in the morning on Monday, the second of August. The four-seater Cessna 400 Corvalis TT—for Twin Turbocharged—was top-of-the-line among single-engine aircraft, Dax explained. Zoe thought it was rather like sitting in a big, comfortable luxury sedan—a sedan that sailed the clear blue sky and had an instrument panel instead of a dashboard.

      There was plenty of room in back for the clothing and equipment they would need, and then some. Zoe had taken her Dramamine and was feeling pleasant and relaxed as she looked down on the San Antonio sprawl below them. She watched as it