Play with Me. Leslie Kelly

just a minute or two, she had been able to convince herself that some sexy, passing stranger had noticed her and come over.

       Passing by on a private, secured tarmac? Don’t think so.

      He wasn’t some random passerby, she just knew it.

      “Oh, hell. You’re my passenger.”

      “If you’re headed for Chicago, I think I am.” He stuck out his hand. “Reese Campbell.”

      Cursing Mrs. Rush and Halloween and that stupid vintage clothing store on eBay, she put her hand in his. “Amanda Bauer.”

      Their first touch brought a flush of warmth, a flash of pleasure that was unexpected and a little surprising. The handshake lasted a second too long, was perhaps a hint more than a casual greeting among strangers. And while the exchange was entirely appropriate, she suddenly found herself thinking of all the touches she hadn’t had for so long, all the inappropriate ways that strong, masculine hand could slide over her body.

      Instant lust. It was real. Who knew?

      She stared at him, trying to see the eyes behind the sunglasses, wondering if they had darkened with immediate interest the way hers probably had. Wondering what she might do about it if he returned that interest.

       Get a grip.

      Amanda regretfully tugged her hand away, pushing it down to her side and sliding it over her satin-covered hip. Her fingertips quivered as they brushed against the bare skin of her upper thigh and she suspected her palms were damp.

      Forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath, she managed a smile. “Well, thanks for choosing Clear-Blue Air. We …”

      “Love to fly, and it shows?”

      It took her a second, then she placed the old Delta slogan. Her smile faded. The guy was way too hot to also be quick-witted and flirtatious. She could handle one at a time—it just became a little more distracting when they were all wrapped up in one extremely sexy package.

       You can handle him. No sweat. Just stay professional.

      Professional. While she was dressed for a love-in with the local beatnik crowd and this guy was both gorgeous and freaking adorable. Right.

      “It’ll be a quick trip,” she said, gesturing toward the steps and moving back so he could ascend them ahead of her.

      No way was she going in first, not with the length of the damn hot pants. Her cheeks were pretty well covered as long as she remained still. If she walked up the steps with him behind her, however, all bets would be off. He’d get an eyeful, and it wouldn’t be of London, or France. Because the stupid shorts were too form-fitting to wear even the most skimpy of underpants, unless they were ass-flossers, which she didn’t even own.

      “Wait,” he said, pausing on the bottom step. “Aren’t you going to say ‘Fly me’ or at least ‘Welcome aboard’?”

      She didn’t. The softly muttered word that came out of her mouth was a lot less welcoming. And had fewer letters—four to be precise.

      He shook his head and tsked. “Not exactly the friendly skies. Haven’t caught the spirit yet this morning?”

      “Make one more airline slogan crack and you’ll be walking to Chicago,” she said.

      He nodded once, then pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his tousled hair. The move revealed blue eyes that matched the sky above. And yeah. They were twinkling. Damn it.

      “Understood. Just, uh, promise me you’ll say ‘Coffee, tea, or me’ at least once, okay? Please?”

      Amanda tried to glare, but that twinkle sucked the annoyance right out of her. Something irrepressible deep inside made her smirk and order, “Stop flirting. Start traveling.”

      He immediately got the vague Southwest Airlines reference. “Gotcha.” With a grin, he added, “I’m starting to suspect I’m going to experience something pretty special in the air.”

      She groaned. “You do realize you’re a total nerd for knowing all these old slogans.”

      The insult bounced right off him. “Nerd, huh?” Then he threw his head back and laughed. Innate good humor flowed off this sexy man who, though dressed like a businessman, wasn’t like anyone she’d ever shuttled before. “Something tells me this is going to be a trip I won’t soon forget,” he said, something warm and knowing appearing in those deep blue eyes.

      She could only draw in a slow breath as he climbed into the plane, thinking about that laughter and that twinkle, wondering why both of them made her insides all soft. As she watched her passenger disappear into the small jet, she also had to wonder about the trip she was about to take.

      Coffee and tea they had, and he was welcome to them. But her? Well, she’d never even considered making a move on a customer before. Talk about unprofessional. Even the original hound dog himself Uncle Frank would kill her. He swore he never mixed business with pleasure.

      And yet, how often was it that she actually met someone new, someone sexy and funny and entertaining? Considering her moratorium on anything that resembled dating, maybe a one-night stand with somebody from out of town, somebody she would never see again, was the perfect way to go.

      Something inside her suddenly wanted to take a chance, to be a little outrageous. Maybe it was the playful, dangerous holiday—she’d always loved Halloween. It could have been the fortuitous change in passengers from wild old ladies to supremely sexy young man. Maybe it was the costume. The damned hot pants were hugging her open-and-alert-and-ready-for-business sex, the seam doing indecent things to her suddenly throbbing girl bits.

      How long since she had done indecent things—or decent ones, for that matter—with a sexy man? Not since before they’d thrown all their energies into expanding Clear-Blue Air, at least. She hadn’t had time for a lunch date, much less anything like the lust-fests she’d enjoyed in her younger years. The kind that lasted for entire weekends and involved not leaving a bed except to grab some sort of sensuous food that could be smeared onto—and eaten off of—someone else’s hot, naked, sweat-tinged body.

      She closed her eyes, her hand clenching tight on the railing. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she tried to make herself move. But she couldn’t—not climbing up, but not backing away, either. Not physically, and not in her head.

      Was she really considering this? God, she hadn’t even looked at Reese Campbell’s left hand to make sure he was available. She had no idea if he was actually attracted to her or just an irrepressible flirt. Yet something inside was telling her to take a shot with this complete stranger.

      It was crazy, something she’d never considered. Yet right now, at this moment, she was definitely considering it. If he was available … could she do it? Seduce a stranger? Have an anonymous fling with a random man, like something out of a blue movie on late-night cable?

      She didn’t know, but it sounded good. Given the current craziness of her life—her work schedule, travel, commitment to her uncle and his company, plus her aversion to anything that even resembled “settling down” as she’d always known it, this whole fling idea sounded damn good.

      The trip to Chicago was a short one, so she had to decide quickly. Really, though, she suspected the decision was already made. And as she put her foot on the bottom step and began to climb up, Amanda suddenly had the feeling she was about to embark on the ride of her life.

      2

      PITTSBURGH TO CHICAGO was a short, easy trip even on a bad day. Fortunately, aside from the fact that he was taking his first flight in a vehicle that didn’t look much bigger than his SUV, today was shaping up to be a very good one. And he wasn’t just thinking about the weather, which was cool, crisp and clear.

      As they took off, Reese went over the situation again in his mind. One hour in the air—that