Page 5 of Hidden Resolution

Shonda moaned. If this was to be her last moment on earth—or in the air, as the case may be—she would die happy. And damn! The things Mason could do with his mouth had to be illegal in forty of the fifty US states, but if that were the case, she was subscribing to the criminal life.

2

Mason had never tasted anything sweeter than Shonda.

Her soft moan and the breathy mewl against his mouth went straight to his groin. He was rock-hard and two seconds from forgetting they were on a packed plane. They hit another turbulent patch, snapping the moment in half and waking him from his fantasy. She muffled a cry of fright, and he automatically tightened his grip on her hand.

“It’s okay, love.” He winked, hoping to ease her nerves. “Let’s readdress the club membership when we’re not plummeting into air pockets.”

She managed a trembling smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Mason brushed his thumb over her knuckles, noting how her pupils dilated at the contact. A subtle shifting of her legs suggested she was into him. Perhaps they could share a few days of island-style R&R. No strings. No drama. Pure fun. Of course, he’d be upfront and make the rules clear. Having been cured of his romantic delusions long ago, he didn’t do complicated.

Another jolt rocked the aircraft, earning a squeak from Shonda and a chorus of screams from the back. His stomachslow rolled in sync with the dip. If they survived this flight, someone was receiving a strongly worded email.

Pain pulsed behind his eyes in relentless waves, and his ears were ringing from the banshee wail of the woman seated behind them. With each passing second, his mood soured.

Her final scream broke his control.

“Shut the hell up, or I’ll open the damned door and toss your sorry ass out!” he snapped. Yeah, less-than-kind and likely to bar him from future flights, but for the love of all things holy, he was moments from murder.

The screamer clamped her mouth closed, sending him a stunned stare. In fact, all those close to them were gaping in astonishment.

Except for Shonda.

He was almost positive hero worship lit in her eyes.

By the time they were herded off the plane, all amorous thoughts fled.

Mason picked a couple of chairs in the next terminal, beating out a hundred or so disgruntled travelers waiting for a replacement plane and crew.

The delay had him out of sorts and craving caffeine. He was halfway to the nearest kiosk when he stopped and retraced his steps.

“You want coffee?” he asked Shonda.

Her tight, tired smile made him glad he’d bothered.

“Two creams, no sugar.” She gestured to his carry-on. “I’ll keep an eye on it.”

As he stood in line, he recalled her pale, brave face during the worst of the trip. She’d handled it better than most, especially the guy reciting Psalm 23 on repeat. Once would’ve sufficed. If the man truly feared no evil, why the endless loop?

When Mason returned, Shonda was in deep conversation with the same jackass who’d hassled her while boarding.Apparently, the guy thought surviving a near-death experience gave him a shot. But body language never lied, and she leaned so far away she was practically in another zip code.

Mason put his towering frame to good use and dropped his voice an octave. “You’re in my seat.”

The guy hesitated, eyes darting between them.

After handing Shonda her coffee, Mason leveled the horndog with a flat stare. Wannabe Romeo took the hint.

“Thanks,” she breathed, appearing genuinely relieved.

“My pleasure. I assumed he was bothering you, but if you’re into sweaty, balding creeps, please don’t let me stand in your way.” He shrugged, indicating it was no big deal either way.

She shuddered. “Yeah, no.”

Biting back a grin, Mason reclaimed his seat and stretched out his legs. She sipped her coffee and let out a moan of appreciation that made every hair on his body stand at attention.