Jessica felt a wave of apprehension snake up her spine when the older pilot headed back to his own plane and the tall stranger made long, purposeful strides her way. As annoyingly slimy as the older piolet was, she almost wanted to turn and catch him. At least he was a known quantity. She stood up straight and met the stranger squarely in the eyes. It meant that she had to tilt her head back to do it.
God, he was tall. And broad. He had to be at least four or five inches over six feet, and the military gear, banned in this country if she wasn't mistaken, made him appear even larger. He had thick, sandy hair brushed back from a face that was surprisingly stern and angular, but his lips were full and curved in an appraising smile as he approached her. Something about just looking at this man sent sensuous tingles through her. He was so masculine, so raw male, so animalistic. She quickly repressed the thoughts, because being distracted in an environment such as this one sure as hell wasn't safe.
"So, what's your story?" he asked, gazing down at her from his superior height. "A woman alone on an airstrip in Tanzania, asking to be flown into the butthole of the African continent, what gives?"
"My name is Jessica, and I’d like to know to whom I’m talking before I delve into my life story," she said stubbornly. Jessica had learned not to give a single inch while she was traveling, especially when it came to men, but her curtness didn't seem to deter this one at all.
He just grunted and raked his eyes up and down her build, as though trying to evaluate her out. "Marcus Van der Berg," he said after a few moments. "Does that satisfy you?"
This time, she could detect a slight hint of an accent in his voice. There was something bright and sharp to it that made her think of the patois spoken in South Africa, but that wasn't all, was it? There was something else she couldn’t put her finger on.
"I'll be honest, not really," she said. "Can’t you do any better?"
He paused for a moment, and she could see him sorting through any number of things. Jessica knew that whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be a lie, and at this point, that bothered her less than it probably should have.
"Let's say that my specialty is anthropology," he said with a shrug.
“You’re an anthropologist?” It wasn’t a very good lie, she thought. Not for a man alone dressed in military gear flying into a volatile region in the butthole, as he put it, of the continent.
He hesitated. "I'm not in the field officially, but I've worked with plenty who are."
"I see," she said slowly. "Just tell me one thing."
He looked more amused than she would have preferred, but he nodded. It struck her that it had been a while since she had seen a man this attractive, and she had spent time in New York during Fashion Week. God, how long had it been since she’d had a boyfriend?
"All right."
"Just please promise me that neither the Tanzanian police nor Interpol are after you."
That surprised a laugh out of him at least, but he shook his head.
"No, they're not after me at all. I promise."
She noticed that there was a slight emphasis on the word they’re, but at this point, she was a beggar who couldn't be choosey.
"Okay then, did what’s-his-name tell you where I was going?"
"He did, and said that you would provide the exact coordinates," the man, Marcus, nodded. "Now I have a few stipulations."
"Go on," she said warily.
"This shouldn't be necessary. Ideally, I load you up like a piece of baggage, you step out to stretch your legs at a couple refueling stops, I put you down exactly at said coordinates, we kiss goodbye, and that's that.
"However, Tanzania's a wild, untamed place, especially as we venture from Dar es Salaam and Mwanza. If things go wrong, which I stress, is somewhat unlikely, I’m going to need you to do exactly as I say, no matter how strange or upsetting it may sound. You got that?"
Jessica chewed her lower lip.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we kiss goodbye right here and you find your own lift."
"I don't have much of a choice then, do I? Okay, you win. If things go wrong, I'll listen to whatever you say without question."
Marcus smiled at her, and again she felt tingles. Something about this man's mere glance felt as if he had slid warm fingers seductively down her bare spine.
"Good girl," he said, and before she could protest being called a girl, he was leading her to his plane.
*
There was something about her, and for the life of him, Marcus couldn't figure out what the hell it was. It would be one thing if he were just attracted to her, but it wasn't just that. There was something about her that was drawing him like iron filings to a magnet, and the fact that he wasn't able to explain it pissed him off.
He left her well enough alone when they were in the air, but when they stopped for their first refueling, and she looked like she was going to stay on the plane, he shook his head.
"Told you, part of the package deal is that you walk around the airfield. Come on."
She went easily enough, and as he got the plane refueled and checked in with his contacts, she stayed close. He supposed it made sense, woman on her own in Tanzania, but more than once, he caught her bright eyes on him, as if she, too, was trying to figure him out.
Marcus ignored her; she was human after all, and she wasn't even armed. He had real problems to contend with on this flight, and one little researcher wasn't one of them. No matter how attractive she was.
Back on the plane, once they had gained some altitude, the girl- Jessica- came to sit next to him in the cockpit. She watched him for so long that he finally looked over at her.
"Been a while since you’ve been with a man?" he asked. "That why you’re looking at me like that?"
She refused to take offense, which was unfortunate. If she had, she would have gone back to the bay, and he wouldn't have that uneasy attraction in the pit of his stomach whenever she got too close.
"No, I was just thinking. You're hiding from someone, aren't you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You dragged me off the plane when we refueled. At first I thought you were just making sure I didn't steal anything, but then I realized that there was nothing to steal."
"There really isn't," he agreed, but she continued.
"So, you wanted to make sure that everyone who saw you saw us, a man and a woman together, not a man traveling alone. Am I right?"
He glanced at her, amused. She sat with her arms across her chest, trying to act nonchalant, but unwilling to move forward without the truth.
"I’m gonna go with yes. Why do you want to know?"
She shrugged.
"I wanted to make sure we got our story straight," Jessica replied. "Maybe I shouldn't go around telling the world that I'm traveling with Marcus Van der Berg, who is adjacent to the anthropology field without being a part of it."
He laughed at that.
"Not even the least little bit worried, are you?"
She smiled, and for just a moment, he could see a flash of pure steeliness in her eyes that left him slightly breathless. God, she should have been born one of his kind.
"As long as you get me where I need to go, that's all that matters to me right now."
"Bernie said something about medicine. Are you with Doctors Without Borders, something like that?"
"No, I'm with the World Health Organization. We're working with the Tanzanian government to figure out a deadly illness that seems to have several hot spots throughout western Tanzania. This one... looks pretty bad, so I'm on the ground to take samples, bring a few supplies, run what tests I can in situ."
"Ah, then you're saving lives?"
Her gaze darkened slightly.
"I hope so," she admitted. "The prognosis for this one, it’s not good. I'm not the only one taking samples, but until we get more information, there's... not a lot to be done."
"These things have a way of working themselves out, at least they do when people as determined as you are involved."
She smiled but lapsed into a morose silence. Impulsively, Marcus reached over to squeeze her hand gently, but then they both cried out in surprise.
The moment he touched her, the moment they touched each other, a spark of electricity leaped from her hand to his. It was as bright and unmistakable as a lightning bolt shot through a clear evening sky, and Marcus could feel the echo of that powerful sensation resonate through his whole frame, coming to rest low in his groin. He realized with the strength of pure instinct that he wanted this woman, that something in her was calling to him. It was reaching right past the human part of his brain, back to the part where the beast resided, and that could be a very dangerous thing for both of them.
Marcus swore softly in Dutch, and Jessica jerked her hand back as if she had touched a stove.
"Oh my god," she murmured, and if there was any doubt in his mind that she had felt it too, it was quickly dismissed. She looked at him accusingly, her blue eyes wide, but he had no more explanation than she had.
She babbled something about static electricity and weird engine misfires, and stumbled to the back of the plane. She couldn't go far, however, and Marcus knew, to the bottom of his soul, that somehow he would know exactly where she was for a good long while afterward.