“Would you like another whisky on the rocks before we land?” Mia asked the executive in the rear seat. He was the friendliest of the five men who boarded this charter from Seattle to Acapulco. They worked for a software firm and, according to the nice man, after their morning business meeting, they were looking forward to golfing in Mexico’s sunshine.
The man looked up and smiled. A warm smile, his blue eyes sparkled making him seem friendly. “One more? You twisted my arm.”
The galley was only a few steps away and he watched her as she mixed the cocktail. “Do you live in Acapulco?” he asked.
“Mm hmm.”
“It must be nice enjoying summer weather every day.”
“I like it.” She did. Mia and Luke had been flying charters for two weeks now, and they’d rented a gorgeous apartment on the fourteenth floor of a high-rise overlooking Acapulco Bay. Business was booming thanks to a little magic worked by Asa and her team at ICE. Unfortunately, the charter operations were the only thing seeing any action. There’d been no trace of El Padrino. On top of that, Luke had lost the romance in his eyes and Mia doubted it would ever be back. Sure, sometimes their gazes connected with a drawn-out look that inflamed passion in her breast. Too bad Mia was the only one with an appetite for amour. Luke focused on the op and running the charter operation like he’d been born to it. The other problem was they worked well together. She liked being a flight attendant. And she liked earning a salary. So far, people had been nice, but then they were paying a lot for chartered flights. Most were businessmen and women, though the group they’d picked up in Las Vegas had been a bit wacko.
She placed the drink on the table beside the man. El Padrino hadn’t spared any expense on the interior of the Gulfstream. Furnished with wide leather seats with side tables, customers traveled in style.
“Thank you.”
The plane jolted, tossing her against his seat. Pushing up, she quickly smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Sorry.”
“No problem. You caught yourself quite gracefully, though it might have been fun if you’d fallen in my lap.”
Mia looked for a wedding ring and saw none. He took a sip of whisky as he watched her. Black hair, blue eyes, chiseled features and beneath that crisp white shirt and tie, he looked to be fit, maybe not quite as toned as Luke, but this man was no slouch. Perhaps Henri had been right when she suggested Mia play the field—especially if Luke was going to walk away and break her heart.
She shook her head as the plane jolted again, but she was ready this time.
“G’day gentlemen,” Luke’s voice came over the intercom. “I’m afraid we’ll see some bumpy weather on our descent into Acapulco. I’m turning on the seatbelt sign early. Mia, please prepare the cabin for landing.”
He wasn’t wrong. The jet jolted and shimmied as Mia wobbled around, picking up glasses and collecting trash, then belting herself in for the landing. As usual, the wheels touched down with hardly a bump and Luke efficiently brought the plane to a stop at the charter terminal.
Mia opened the door as the pilot came out of the cockpit. “Sorry about the bumpy ride.”
“Are you kidding? I endure worse every time I land in Seattle,” said the oldest of the group. He’d been seated in the front and acted like he was in charge.
As they always did, Luke and Mia stood together, thanking the passengers while they exited. Lastly, Mr. Blue Eyes stopped and shook Mia’s hand, but rather than letting go, he slipped a business card into her palm. “It would be my pleasure to take you to dinner here or in Seattle. Just give me a call on my cell phone—Mia, is it?”
“Yes.” She slipped the card into her pocket.
Luke gestured to the door. “Enjoy your golf game.” He watched the man climb down the steps, then gave her a look of disgust. “You’re not going to call that yokel, are you?”
“On an op? Of course not.” She patted her pocket. “Though it is nice to have someone take an interest for a change.”
He didn’t do anything, except his stupid jaw twitched. If Mia was paid fifty pesos every time Luke’s jaw twitched, she’d be on her way to earning a fortune. If only she could kick him—or slap him. Hello, I’m standing right here. Let’s talk about what has happened between us and how we can fix it.
But he didn’t say a word. He closed up the plane and led her to their rental car. Mia remained quiet as well, just as she’d done for years. But this time, she didn’t feel like she was living in hell, nor did she believe things were hopeless. Along the drive, she convinced Luke to stop at the store to buy groceries for a new recipe she’d found online. How could her spirits fall when she had the freedom to use a computer and purchase groceries with her own money? Oh yes, she could get used to this life, being a stewardess and running a charter business with Luke, even if he didn’t return her affection.
And the apartment was nothing short of divine. He carried the groceries as they rode the elevator in silence. This time, they stopped at the fifteenth floor and walked down one flight. They exited at a different floor every time in case they were being followed. They hadn’t seen anyone, but Luke never let his guard down, and Mia was relieved to have him there. She’d learned a great deal in the three weeks she’d spent at ICE but, if anything, the experience made her realize becoming a seasoned spy took years of study and on-the-job experience. Though she’d been brought on as an employee, Tawney had made it clear the arrangement was temporary. Still, Mia had practically signed in blood not to divulge one single word about ICE. Not ever. Even on her deathbed, she couldn’t utter the words ICE or Iceland or International Clandestine Enterprise.
As she walked into the apartment, the stress from the day shed from her shoulders. A two-bedroom unit, it was full of light with marble floors and Italian leather furniture. The kitchen looked like something from a magazine with marble countertops, two sinks, a built-in refrigerator and white cabinetry. It had an open floorplan with the kitchen as the hub, with the breakfast bar looking out to the living room, which opened to the balcony. And from there, the view of Acapulco and the bay were unsurpassed.
Sighing happily, Mia took the bags from Luke and headed straight for the kitchen. As usual, he went to the office area off the living room and logged on to his computer. He filed a report with ICE every day. Luke checked the charters and schedule changes, ordered supplies for the plane and all that came along with running a small business.
Asa had done a wonderful job with the website, and advertisements with Mia’s face were everywhere—Lucas Lewis Charters. It had a ring to it even if it was a front to ferret El Padrino out of hiding.
Mia chopped the spinach and ingredients for the stuffing, sautéed it, then filled the centers of two chicken breasts, adding a lump of Swiss cheese to each. She seared them on each side before putting the mixture, frypan and all, into the oven to cook for twenty minutes. The sauce called for wine which gave her an excuse to open a bottle of Chardonnay. “You want a glass of wine?”
“Got a beer?” Luke asked.
“We’re drinking wine tonight. Want a glass now or want to wait until we eat?”
“Glass now.”
She rolled her eyes. The man hadn’t even looked up from his screen.
He’ll love the chicken. I will not allow myself to be discouraged.
Mia had everything ready to go when the timer went off. She used the hot pot holder to pull it out of the oven, transferred the chicken to a plate and put it back in the oven. The recipe recommended using the same pan to make the sauce. Adding the wine, she let it sizzle and condense before she reached for two cups of chicken broth.
Grabbing the handle of the frypan, every nerve ending in her hand seared with acute burning. She screeched in pain as the broth went flying as she yanked her hand away. Her fingers instantly blistered, still feeling like they were being scorched and branded. Her head spun as she stumbled to the sink and thrust her hand under a stream of cold water.
Luke’s chair scraped across the tiles. As the noise sounded, he appeared by her side. “What happened?”
“The pan! I forgot to use the pot holder.”
“Let me have a look.” He pulled her hand out of the stream and hissed. “You need to sit down with a cool compress. I’ll grab the aloe vera gel.”
The meal would be ruined. “I can’t sit. I’m making you a nice dinner and it’s almost done.”
With a tsk of his tongue, he slid his arm around her shoulders and led her to the couch. “I’m going to fix you up with a compress. You stay right here and ice your hand and tell me what to do to finish your masterpiece. Okay?”
Does he have to sound so nice? Mia cringed. “I feel stupid. The recipe even said to be careful because the handle will be hot.”
“No worries. It happens.” He helped her sit. “I’ll be right back.”
And he was, with a tea towel, ice, and the burn gel. “You want to keep it cool, but don’t apply the ice directly.” He perched on the couch’s arm and gently grasped her hand. Upending the aloe vera gel, he poured some into her palm and took his time rubbing it in with soft swirls.
“That really cools the burn.”
“It’s the best.” He smiled—a genuine smile.
She bit the corner of her lip. “Thank you.”
He placed the towel-wrapped ice in her palm. “Now what do I need to do to finish your brilliant feast?”
“Make two more cups of chicken broth and add it to the pan. Let it boil ten minutes then add the wine and butter. Everything else is ready and in the oven. Once the sauce has started to condense, we just need to pour it over the chicken.”
He zipped around the kitchen like he knew what he was doing. He even hummed and with the tune, Mia’s pain vanished. The melody swirled through the air with a levitating effect. Then he sang out in a deep, resonate voice, “Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, will you come a waltzing Matilda with me, and he sang as he watched and he waited till his billy boiled, will you come a waltzing Matilda with me.”
Mia’s heart warmed. I’ll waltz with you any day, flyboy. “Is that a song you learned in the Australian ?”
“Waltzing Matilda?” He used a spatula to move a chicken breast to a plate. “It’s only the most famous song Down Under. It nearly became our national anthem.”
“Really?”
“Fair dinkum.”
“Fair what?”
“Love, you need to learn some Australianisms. Fair dinkum means the bloody truth.” He crossed his heart with a cocky grin.
“Okay, I’ll remember that.”
“This is ready. Shall I cut it for you?”
Mia stood and moved to the breakfast bar, looking at the perfectly browned chicken with cheese oozing from top and bottom. “I think I can manage. The aloe helped a lot.”
“Beauty.” He slid both plates across in front of the tall chairs where Mia had placed the settings earlier. “Shall I top up your wine?”
“Please.” If she would have known burning herself was the key to unlocking Luke’s good-naturedness, she would have fried her hand days ago.
She watched while he cut a slice and slipped it into his mouth. His eyes grew round with his sigh. “Mm. Delicious.” He took another bite. “Better than delicious. It melts like butter.”
The silverware slipped in her palms as she cut off a nibble and sampled. Both tangy and buttery, the wine sauce slid over her tongue like warm cream. “Oh my, if I had known I could cook, I would have done it more often.”
Luke raised his glass. “I bet there are many things you have an aptitude for that you’ve never tried.”
She agreed. Things grew quiet while they ate and the dinner that had taken an hour to prepare was gone in a flash. After savoring her last bite, Mia polished off her glass of wine and, as soon as she set it down, Luke dashed around the bar and poured for them both. “How’s your hand?”
“Not as bad as I originally thought.”
“You beauty.” His Australianisms truly were endearing. He picked up his glass and gestured out toward the bay. “What do you say we enjoy these out on the balcony?”
“You mean savor a little R & R?”
“Why not? You’ve been working hard.” He led the way.
“We both have.”
Outside, a warm breeze blew in from the west. The lights of Acapulco flickered while the water in bay took on an inky sheen, dotted with boats lazily cruising through the quiet surf. Fourteen stories up, the sounds below were like whispers.
Luke meandered to the rail and leaned on his elbows. “I could get used to this.”
Mia joined him. “It’s a nice life, isn’t it?”
“But not real.”
“No.” She sipped, wishing it could be. The familiar hollowness spread through her chest. There she stood, free at last, but yet not free. She wouldn’t truly be free until El Padrino had been captured. What did the future hold? She didn’t dare think of it. There were too many unknowns. Luke worked for ICE—he’d move on to the next op. Mia was on a temporary assignment, which would end as soon as they reached their goal. No matter how much she relished the work, no matter how liberating her newfound freedom, Luke was slipping away.
Once this was over would she ever see him again?
What could she do to prove to him she had made a choice to be the most loyal person he would ever meet? Yes, she’d made mistakes, but when they left the hacienda it was like being a seven-year-old kid—a kid who was afraid of the big, bad world, scared to be out there and face the unknown. But Mia was afraid no longer.
How can I tell him?
Better, how can I show him?
He turned and leaned his backside against the rail. “I’ll bet you’re anxious to see your parents.”
“Yes I am—both excited and a little nervous.”
“They’ll be ecstatic to see you.”
“I hope so.”
“Any parent would be. I’d like to be there to see their faces.”
“Really?” Her heart fluttered. “I’d love for you to go with me.”
That old twitch flickered in his jaw. “We’ll see. First we have a job to do.”
“Did you check on tomorrow’s charter?”
“Yep. We’re taking a group to Puerto Vallarta for a meeting. We’ll layover there then bring them back, then we’ll actually have a day off.” He caught a lock of her hair, a grin playing on his lips as he watched it slide along his palm. “Pure silk.”
Butterflies swarmed in Mia’s tummy as she scraped her teeth over her lip. “Do you like long hair?”
“On women, most definitely.”
The fluttering stopped. If only he would pay her a direct compliment—show her he still had an iota of interest.
Darn it, take a chance.
She stepped in and slid her fingers into his palm. Then she inclined her lips toward his ear and whispered, “I’ve decided my favorite color of eyes is blue, sky blue just like yours.”
He chuckled and cupped her cheek with his palm. “Sweetheart, you have the whole package—I swear you can charm a blind man out of his last penny.” He kissed her forehead. “We have an early start—need to leave the apartment by seven.”
She nodded, looking up to his eyes. They were dark, his jaw tense even though he smiled.
“See you in the morning.” He bowed over her hand and kissed it before he slipped back through the glass doors and headed for his bedroom.
The back of Mia’s hand tingled as she watched him, her heart heavy. And when he disappeared, she raised her hand to her lips and kissed it in the exact spot where Luke had done the same. He was everything a woman could want in a man—polite, smart, resourceful, strong…and on top of it all, his sexy grin made her insides melt like marshmallows over fire.
“I will win you back. I don’t know how, but I swear I will prove I am worthy of your love.”