First Class Seduction. Anita Bunkley

miles slipped by and the plane zoomed toward Houston, Lori grew more and more irritated, yet intrigued, by the man who seemed to want to become her new best friend. Or more than that, she decided, amused with his determination to attract her attention and occupy her time.

      Deep into the flight, Phyllis squeezed past Lori with a food tray and threw her a What-in-the-world-is-going-on? kind of look. Lori cut her eyes and jerked her head toward the galley, where she cornered Phyllis and confessed everything. “That’s one of the guys I danced with at the club last night. We danced and then…well, he kissed me and walked away.”

      “Kissed you and disappeared?” Phyllis probed, touching her tongue to her upper lip as she refilled a coffee cup for the father of the still-sulking preteens. “Come on, Lori. More than a dance and a kiss must have happened,” Phyllis said. “Mr. Vidal is practically undressing you with those gorgeous brown eyes, and anyone looking at him can tell the guy is totally smitten with you. What went on that you aren’t telling me?”

      “Nothing else, I promise,” Lori groaned, placing china and glassware on a tray. “And the kiss was not that much of a deal, really. Anyway, I never thought I’d see him again.”

      “But there he is, chatting you up and feeling you up with his eyes.”

      “Kinda looks that way, huh?” Lori admitted, feeling as if Ramón Vidal were still staring at her.

      “Damn straight. So what are you going to do?”

      “About what?” Lori tossed back.

      “About him! I have to admit he is kinda sexy. Why don’t you find out what you can about him while you have him captive?”

      “Absolutely not. I’m not going to go out there and grill him for information.”

      “Oh, go on. Just talk to him. He might be a keeper.”

      Lori snapped a white linen napkin at Phyllis, like a punctuation mark to end their conversation. “Please. I am not looking for a keeper and you know it.”

      “Hey, don’t be so sure. Everybody needs somebody, sometime, Miss Play-the-Field. I’ve been widowed for ten years, but I knew what it was like to have a good man in my life. You deserve that, too.”

      “I’m not about to rush things.”

      “I understand your concern about getting involved again after what you went through with Devan Parker, but your I-don’t-want-to-be-attached attitude ought to be wearing thin by now. Go on. Your mystery man is so eager to talk…See what you can find out about him.”

      Muttering an unintelligible reply, Lori finished preparing her tray and then headed out to serve her passengers.

      Once food service ended, the crew tidied the cabin and dimmed the lights for in-flight movie and TV-watching. Taking advantage of the break, Lori returned to the forward galley to stash supplies while Phyllis headed to the rear of the plane to see if the guys in the back needed help getting their passengers settled in for the rest of the flight.

      “Mind if I stand here and stretch my legs for a minute?”

      Lori’s head whipped around. “Oh. No,” she told Ramón, not totally surprised to see him standing in the galley entry, coffee cup in hand. “Be my guest,” she added. “It’s a good idea to get up and walk around.”

      “I don’t know about walking around…all I want to do is stay right here and talk to you.” His velvet-smooth voice was low and controlled.

      “Yeah? About what?” Lori asked in a flirtatious manner, deciding that Phyllis might be right. Maybe it was time to put old fears behind her and stop throwing roadblocks in front of every man who threw out a pickup line.

      The hum of the jet engines filled the silence as Ramón considered how to answer. He wanted Lori to talk about herself—to tell him what she liked, what she wanted, what his chances were of getting closer to her. But why would she tell all to a stranger she’d only just met in a club the night before? No, the best way to get her to open up was for him to open up first.

      “Why don’t I tell you a little about myself?” he started, taking the easiest route.

      Lori shut the door to the microwave oven, nodded her approval and smiled. “Sure. What would you like me to know about you?”

      “That I’m single, straight, and I work hard every day.”

      “Oh? Doing what?” Lori asked.

      “Keeping people safe,” Ramón replied.

      “Interesting. Were you in Mexico on vacation?”

      “No, visiting my brother, Xavier. He’s just become a district judge in the state of Guerrero.”

      “Good for him. So your brother lives in Acapulco?” Lori asked.

      “Right. In a spectacular house on the bay.”

      “Then you’re…I guess…you’re Mexican?”

      Ramón chuckled at Lori’s hesitation to probe deeper into his ethnicity. His bronze skin, dark wavy hair and lack of an accent often left people confused about where he was from. While growing up in Houston, classmates and teachers had called him everything from mixed-race black, to Italian and even Middle Eastern, and he had learned over the years not to take offense, but to speak with pride about his Mexican-American heritage.

      “Born and raised in Texas. My parents emigrated to the United States from Mexico and became naturalized citizens before I was born. My mom passed away a few years back, but my dad still lives in Houston. Only a few miles from me.”

      “You said something about keeping people safe. Are you a policeman?” Lori asked.

      “No, I own a security company. Alarms, burglar systems, that kind of stuff. It’s called Vida-Shield Security. My partner and I specialize in state-of-the-art systems for residences, businesses and government agencies.”

      “So…if I ever needed protection, you’d be the one to call?” Lori joked.

      “Absolutely. Here’s my card. As it says right there…We’re experts at keeping strangers out of your home.”

      “That’s funny,” Lori tossed back, chuckling softly as she scanned his business card and read from it, “Let the experts keep strangers out of your home.” Again, a low laugh escaped her throat.

      Her humorous response took Ramón by surprise, and he watched her closely as he asked, “What’s so funny about alarm systems, burglar bars and passcodes to stop criminals in their tracks?”

      “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just that Globus-Americas’ motto is, “‘We’re experts at making strangers feel at home.’”

      Ramón fingered his earring, smiling. I’d sure like to let her make me feel at home, he thought, determined to make headway while he had the chance because once they landed, they would go their separate ways and maybe never see each other again. He had to make an impression that would last beyond the moment the plane hit the ground. “Well, I can certainly testify that you do your job well,” he replied. “And I hope we won’t be strangers very long.”

      Lori gave him a look that sent a ripple of anticipation through Ramón when she tossed her head back and tucked his card into the skirt pocket of her uniform. “Never know when I might need a safety check,” she teased, breaking the sexual tension that was connecting them like an invisible length of wire.

      Ramón stepped closer to Lori, filling the tiny galley with his frame and blocking her from leaving. Attracting women had never been a problem for Ramón, but he was very choosy about the ones he dated. He didn’t go out a lot, but when he did, he made sure he spent time with women who intrigued, attracted and impressed him. Lori did all three, in a big way, and getting to know her was going to be a pleasure. He placed two fingers on the side of Lori’s neck, bent down and brushed his lips over hers. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than keeping a