Fly with Me (3 page)

The twist of
her lips was a little bitter. “No.”

“Husband
trouble?”

Her head
jerked up, her gaze shooting to his. “Are you fishing to find out
if I’m single?”

“Nope. Just
fishing to find out what the problem is.”

“It’s my
business.”

“Okay,” he
replied easily.

She stared at
him. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“You’re not
even curious?”

“I am, won’t
lie. But you’re right, it is your business. I’m a stranger, why
would you tell me? I don’t need to know.”

“Oh.”
Seemingly lost for words, Lis looked at him for several seconds, a
myriad of emotions flickering in her eyes.

Those
beautiful, light brown eyes that were so expressive.

Man, those
brown eyes just did something to him, touched him down deep. And if
she knew she’d probably run a mile, so he simply smiled at her and
took another mouthful of water. At this rate his kidneys would soon
start floating.

“Sometimes…”
Lis hesitated, started again. “Do you ever feel like it’s all too
much?”

“Depends.”

“I don’t mean…
Sometimes it’s like everyone wants something from you. No, not
sometimes,” she added almost fiercely, “always. Always someone at
you, picking and picking.”

Okay, she’d
had a
really
rough day.

“It’s like I
can’t do anything without someone wanting more.” A long strip of
label came off the bottle, she screwed it up and dropped it onto
the floor beside her hip. “In fact, I
can’t
do anything for
myself without someone wanting more.”

“That’d be
hard,” Simon said quietly.

“It’s like
everyone is pecking at me, taking little pecks, whittling away at
me, trying to take what’s me away and replace it with what they
want.”

Looking at the
bottle he held in his hand, he nodded.

“They think I
should be something else, do something else, be more, do more.”
There came a crackle as her hand clenched tighter around the
bottle. “Be someone else. They’ll do anything to make me someone
else.”

“You can only
be you.”

“I want to be
me. Need to be me. I keep telling myself to be strong, to do what I
want to do, but there’re these expectations, you know?”

He nodded.

“People feel
that…” Her voice trailed away and when he glanced at her, she
muttered, “They just do.”

Okay, now he
was getting a gist of her problems.

“But when you
owe people…” She stared miserably at the bottle.

Okay, maybe
not quite the gist. Maybe he’d been barking up the wrong tree. But
still, he could give her a little bit of advice. “Lis?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you in
trouble?”

“Am I?” Her
laugh was short and despondent. “Some would think so. Some would
think not.”

“What do you
think?”

“I think I’m
in a personal shit-load.”

“Have you gone
to the police?”

She stared at
him for several seconds before smiling grimly. “Not that kind of
trouble, Simon.”

“So when you
say you owe people…?”

“Not money.
Nothing like that. Well, maybe like that, but…” Her head dropped
forward again as she resumed picking at the now-tattered label.
“But I guess everyone owes someone something, don’t they? It’s just
how much we owe them, how we repay them. And worse, the deceit that
changes so much.”

Taking another
thoughtful pull at the water, Simon turned her words over in his
mind. This was one unhappy woman, a woman with a heap of talent and
a whole lot of pressure. Never a good mix. “Maybe you need to get
away from everyone for awhile.”

“Maybe.” She
nodded. “I am. I mean, I am getting away for awhile.”

“Then maybe
you need to take that time to think about what you want, what you
owe, who you owe and why.”

“Easier said
than done.”

He remained
silent.

“Tonight I was
happy, but then there was the phone call and…” With a sigh, Lis
tipped her head back to gaze up at the dimly lit floor of the
balcony above them. “I’m not feeling better.”

“Sorry.”

“Not you.” For
the briefest second she touched his arm, her fingertips cool,
before she withdrew them to fold her arms beneath her breasts.

Simon couldn’t
help but notice how the movement made that generous bosom push up
and outward even more, but manfully he dragged his attention away
from the mounds to her face. “Good to know.”

Seconds turned
to minutes as time ticked past, the silence between them
companionable. A week ago Simon would never have thought he’d be
sitting on the chilly balcony of a hotel in the company of a sad
singer at what was probably now close to two in the morning. Then
again, life was like that, throwing you a curve ball now and again
just to make life interesting.

Plus she
reminded him so much of someone else from his past, a memory that
still had the power to pull at him deep down.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy
with who you are?”

“Yep.”

“You say that
with such confidence.”

“Yep.”

“Must be nice
to know your path.”

“I chose
it.”

“Was it an
easy choice?”

“Didn’t matter
if it was easy or not. It was my choice.”

More silence
as she mulled over his words.

He was still
waiting patiently for her next words when she abruptly pushed
upright.

Curiously, he
tilted his head to look up at her, his gaze sweeping over that
generously curved figure, thinking how soft she’d feel in any man’s
arms. Soft and warm.

He had an
overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms and see for himself
just how soft and warm she’d feel.

“Simon?”

Dragging his
thoughts from a more nefarious path, he blinked, bringing her face
into focus. At the slight, uncertain frown on her face, he smiled
and pushed easily to his feet, noting how she took a step back.
Still smiling, he deliberately leaned his hips back against the
balcony wall, the rail a cold, hard band at his lower back. It was
a stance meant to reassure her.

It worked. She
relaxed, he felt her scrutiny keenly. The whole time she studied
his face, he kept his gaze steady on her.

It did
surprise him a little when she suddenly stepped forward, then
another step, and finally a third that brought her up almost
against him. Even though she was in high heels and he was leaning
back against the wall, he was still taller than her.

“Simon?” she
said softly.

“Yeah, Lis?”
He breathed in her scent, the light floral filling his lungs.

“Thank you.”
She leaned closer. “Thank you for being here for me.”

She leaned
even closer and he knew what she was going to do. Knew it, welcomed
it, stopped himself from reaching for her.

She closed the
distance between them, her thick lashes lowering to cover her eyes
as she gently pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a
light kiss.

The kiss was
soft, sweet. He couldn’t help himself, turned his head enough that
her lips were full on his. Jesus, so soft, so lush, so warmly
moist.

He stilled,
opening his eyes when he felt her lips lift from his, his gaze
ensnaring hers.

Surprise was
reflected in the light brown depths of her eyes, surprise and
something else - a yearning, a wanting. A need.

In that second
it matched his own, this time it was he who leaned forward a
little, closed the minute gap between them, pressed his lips to
hers, a little more firmly, a little more heatedly.

Christ, he
couldn’t help it. Nudged her lips with his tongue, pressed firmly,
felt her give, and then he was inside, all that silken heat his to
explore, his kiss deepening as he tasted her, inhaled her, felt her
lean into him, his hand coming up to rest on her waist, rest in
that sweet dip between those lush breasts and hips.

Kissed deeper,
drew her against him, spread his legs a little so that she was
tucked between them, and now she was leaning into him, all those
lush curves against his hard, muscular frame.

It was she who
broke the kiss, pulling her head back to look up at him, her hand
on his chest, fingers spread out cool against his suddenly hot
skin. “Simon…”

His hand on
her waist tightened, his gaze searching hers.

“I - I have to
go.” She stepped back. “I have - look, thanks for being here.”

Not wanting
her to leave, he straightened. “Can we meet for coffee?”

She bit her
lip. “I don’t think-”

“Give me your
phone number. I’ll call you.”
Give me a contact, please
.
“You can think about it, give me your answer then.”

Light brown
eyes gazed at him, faintly troubled, uncertain, a touch sad.

God, he wanted
to gather her close but he wasn’t silly enough to try that. In her
state she’d probably take it as forcing, and from the sound of it
she’d been forced enough in her life.

“I promise I
won’t harass you.” He smiled reassuringly.

She took a
deep breath, nodded. “Okay. Get your mobile and I’ll put my number
in. But,” she pointed a finger at him, her eyes crinkling at the
corners in amusement, “remember, you promised. No harassment.”

“Scout’s
honour.” He held two fingers to his temple. “Follow me.”

“I’ll wait
here. It’s nice. I like the scent of the rain, the lights.” Turning
to the balcony, she leaned her arms against the railing and looked
out.

“I’ll be right
back.”

Simon strode
across to his door, glancing back once to see that she was still in
place, watching the night scenery of the city. She cut a lonely
figure, but man, she also cut a mouth-watering figure. He could
still feel those lush curves pressed against him.

His mobile,
which he didn’t use that much, wasn’t on the table, and he did a
quick search, cursing his habit of shoving it anywhere and relying
on the ring tone to alert him to its location.

He checked the
nightstand, his jacket pocket, his suitcase and finally found it on
the bathroom sink. No idea why it was sitting there, but with a
shrug he grabbed it and headed back out onto the balcony.

She was
gone.

Damn
it.
He looked in the only direction she could have gone. He
hadn’t been inside for more than three minutes but she’d taken
advantage of that to leave.

Heaving a
sigh, Simon leaned on the doorframe. Okay, Lis obviously didn’t
want to follow up with him. Being spurned by a woman wasn’t
something that happened often, not that he had a big ego, it was
just a fact. Not that he’d ever
not
been knocked back, but
somehow he felt it more with Lis.

And how crazy
was that? He scratched the back of his head. He’d only just met the
woman, given her a bottle of water, sat beside her and let her
talk. That was it.

Well, not
quite it. There’d been something about her, something more than
just sadness, something more than just a pretty face and generously
curved figure. Something that had started to draw him closer.

Still, it
didn’t change the fact that she obviously hadn’t felt any
attraction for him, so really, that said it all. No point flogging
a dead horse, it obviously wasn’t meant to be and he had no
intention of chasing a woman who wasn’t interested.

Backing into
the room, he shut the door firmly, placed the mobile phone and
water bottle on the little bench, took his jeans off and returned
to bed. Snapping off the light, he lay on his back, hands behind
his head, gazing up at the ceiling.

Lis was gone
and that was that, but it didn’t stop him from wondering what had
specifically upset her.

With a grunt,
he rolled onto his side, tucked the pillow firmly under his cheek
and closed his eyes. She might not be interested, but nor was he
going to fret about it. He’d wanted to see her, she’d rejected it.
That was it. He had a life to live, a job to do, friends, and a job
course to continue. The mystery of Lis was just another little bump
in the road of life.

A bloody
luscious bump, a definitely interesting bump, undeniably a
troubling bump, but a bump nevertheless.

The fact that
he dreamed of those lush lips, soft body and big brown eyes had
nothing at all to do with it. Not at all.

Chapter 1

Two Months
Later

“Come on,
Arthur, don’t be difficult.” Simon reached further along the
branch.

Arthur screwed
up his one remaining eye, pulled his tattered ears back and showed
snaggled teeth in a long, low, warning growl.

Or what was
left of his teeth. Personally, Simon wasn’t as wary of his teeth as
he was the cat’s claws. If Arthur took a bite of Simon’s heavy
glove, he’d probably leave his remaining teeth in the coarse
material. However, if he managed to swipe at Simon’s face with
those wicked claws there’d be tears - Simon’s.

“Come on,
kitty,” Simon wheedled, hoisting himself further up the ladder.

“Are you going
to get that cat or what?” Scott called from below.

Simon looked
down to where his fellow fire fighter stood at the base of the tree
supporting the ladder. “Or what.”

“Just grab
him. You’re embarrassing us.”

“How about you
come up here?”

“I’m
supervising. It’s an important job. Now grab him.”

“What if this
was Tilly?”

“Tilly
wouldn’t be seen dead up a tree. She has more class.”

“And more
girth, too.”

“Don’t make me
yank this ladder away.”

With a grunt,
Simon swung a leg over the thick branch.

“Hey,” a
familiar voice greeted from below. “What’s numb nuts doing up a
tree?”

Great.
Ryder.

“He’s supposed
to be getting Arthur,” Scott replied.