The Rogue And The Rich Girl. Christine Pacheco

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ burning in his stomach painfully reminded him of the ulcer’s existence.

      Taking a hand from the yoke, he frantically dug through the map compartment for an airsick bag. There had to be one. Didn’t there?

      A bead of sweat trickled down her patrician nose.

      “Hang in there,” he urged. Ace prided himself on the ability to deal with anything life tossed his way. He’d flown through blazing fires, been shot at, tossed into jail for a crime he hadn’t committed, and another he had. And yet, he couldn’t deal with something so elemental, so natural.

      Or maybe it was the woman herself who unsettled him.

      The whimper in her voice became urgent.

      “Damn.” While keeping one eye on the controls, he reached again and again into the compartment.

      She flinched.

      And surprisingly, Ace experienced a twinge of sympathy. Digging under the maps, he searched for the waxy-feeling paper. To no avail.

      The woman’s shoulders drooped, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

      Since there were no bags, he had only one option: try to keep her from needing one.

      “Open your eyes, Ms. Jackson,” he said softly, barely above the lulling hum of the engines. Fighting back impatience, he kept his tone even and cajoling. “You’re making matters worse.” For both of them.

      She blinked.

      “Take five deep breaths. Hold each for at least three seconds.”

      She followed his instructions, drawing in a drink of air. With each breath, his corresponding pain lessened.

      “That’s it,” he added when she gulped again. “Exhale slowly.”

      She did.

      “Now look out the window.”

      “The window?” The words were hardly above a croak.

      “Try and fix your gaze in the distance. Don’t look up, and definitely don’t look down.”

      He surveyed the plane’s gauges, though in reality he could fly unconsciously...and had done so on more than one occasion.

      He noticed her hands had stopped trembling. “Take another couple of breaths, and whatever you do, don’t close your eyes, since that makes you more dizzy and disoriented.”

      A few minutes later, she looked in his direction. A hint of color started to blend with her blusher.

      “You okay?”

      She nodded weakly. “I think so.”

      Ace prayed so.

      “How did you do that?”

      “Learned that handy tip a few years ago. Dated a dancer.”

      “What does dancing have to do with it?”

      “She did ballet—you know all those spins. She said she always tried to focus on an object every time she spun around, said it stopped her from getting dizzy.”

      “Evidently it works.”

      “Next time, remember to take your motion sickness pills before you get on the plane.”

      “I did.”

      He silently pleaded with the sky gods for smooth sailing, sans turbulence. “Are you always such a poor passenger?” Ace had a hard time believing he wasn’t completely irritated by her—with her. Logic said he should have been. She was a painful reminder of his ex-wife and the hurt he’d run—flown—away from. Yet there was something vulnerable about Nicole Jackson, despite the way she dressed and acted. As if there was something more to the picture, something she didn’t want anyone to uncover...

      Absently he wondered what it would be like to unlock the secrets. Her secrets.

      She wiped back a wisp of escaped auburn hair and looked at him. “I do better in bigger aircraft.”

      Dragged from his wayward thoughts by the sound of her voice, he responded, “Then why do you fly?”

      “It’s more convenient.”

      “For who?”

      She shifted, squaring her shoulders. He saw her struggle to regain composure, hide the vulnerability he’d witnessed. With her looks, money and title of President, she was obviously accustomed to being in control. Which ought to make things interesting, because he had no intention of relinquishing half an ounce of his control to any woman.

      “Fasten your belt,” he instructed, the words a little rough, as he tried not to notice how alluring she looked with the gleaming sun accenting the highlights in her hair.

      Nicole Jackson was business, and in a few days she would be history. Noticing personal things—and wanting to discover them—wouldn’t make the trip any easier. And right now he needed easy.

      Needed it bad.

      * * *

      Nicole fingered back the stands of hair that refused to cooperate. Her fingers no longer shook, but an uneasy sensation remained in her stomach. She recognized the feeling, and it had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with being out of control. She detested the feeling, knowing it was a sign of weakness. Nicole didn’t want to be out of control, especially when she was at the mercy of a man who didn’t appear to have an ounce of mercy in his soul.

      To give him credit though, he hadn’t turned the plane around and gone back in for a landing. And judging by the expression on his face, the thought had obviously crossed his mind.

      Cognizant of his gaze and the fact he’d glanced suggestively, more than once, at the belt, she forced her fingers to relax, then grabbed both ends and snapped them together.

      Then he looked away, as if she weren’t even there.

      While he was deep in thought, or just plain ignoring her, she surveyed the man sitting next to her.

      Deep lines were etched beside his haunted gray eyes, indicating that he’d seen more of life than some men twice his age. His dark blond hair was brushed back severely from his furrowed forehead. She knew, without a doubt, that the valleys grooved in his face were formed from experience, not laughter.

      A masculine shading of stubble covered his jaw, leaving her to wonder if he’d been up all night or whether the look was typical of his personality. Either way, it was different than what she was accustomed to seeing.

      Nicole noticed the way his hands curved around the yoke and remembered the sensual feel of his calluses. The feeling had been unique. And tantalizingly thrilling.

      Evidently aware of her less-than-subtle scrutiny, he glanced in her direction. His lips curved into something she thought might be considered a smile in less than polite circles. Momentarily, his harsh features had been transformed, until they weren’t quite as СКАЧАТЬ