Love by Design. Christine Johnson

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      “Not that anyone has discovered yet.” Dan looked each man in the eye. “But we have to try—for both our projects. I’d stake my reputation on the experience gathered in this room.” He sat back with a grin, waiting for one of them to admit they’d recognized him. When neither did, he hinted, “I do know something about flying. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

      Hunter echoed his grin. “I’d be a fool not to know who Dan Wagner is. Altitude, distance and speed records, not to mention the number of downed enemy planes over France. I don’t suppose you’d consider—”

      The office door burst open, drawing Hunter’s attention away from his question and toward a tall woman with the brightest hazel eyes Dan had ever seen.

      “Jack, I wondered if—?” The woman stopped midsentence when she noticed Hunter was not alone.

      Her flustered confusion sat so awkwardly that Dan suspected she was seldom at a loss for words. She obviously didn’t care about public opinion, because she wore men’s trousers, a flannel button-down shirt and a ragged mackinaw. Her cracked and scuffed men’s leather boots dripped muddy snow on the floor. Her cropped brown hair stuck out in all directions, as if she’d just yanked off a knit cap. She wasn’t at all the type of woman that usually attracted him, so the tug in his gut came as a big surprise.

      “I’m sorry.” She looked around the small room, pausing when she reached him. “I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”

      Her cheeks, already pleasantly flushed from the cold, got even pinker. Dan was surprised to feel his pulse quicken with the hope that he was the cause of that blush.

      She squared her jaw and thrust a hand toward him. “You’re new in town. I’m Jen Fox.”

      He allowed a slight smile. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Fox.” He noted her frown. “Not much for formalities, eh? Well then, I’m Wagner. Daniel Wagner.” That was a test. Did she recognize Daring Dan by his full name or was she just another gal who swooned over aviators?

      She matched his smirk. “Pleased to meet you, Wagner.”

      He shook her hand. Her grip was as firm as that of a vigorous man. He flexed his fingers when she let go.

      She cocked her head to the side, as if assessing him. “Are you a new instructor at the school?”

      Hunter snorted and then pretended to cough.

      Dan grinned. This gal was definitely not an aviation devotee. She could use a little brushing up on the social graces and a decent wardrobe, but her directness was refreshing. “No, I’m not.”

      “Oh. You look like a flight instructor.”

      “I didn’t realize flight instructors had a certain look.”

      “Oh, yes.” Her head bobbed emphatically. “They’re confident, almost arrogant, as if they think the world revolves around them.”

      Hunter didn’t succeed in covering up his laugh this time.

      “Except Jack, of course,” she added hastily.

      Dan was surprised at the informality. Clearly the pair knew each other. Perhaps some relation of Hunter’s wife.

      Hunter chuckled at Miss Fox’s backtracking. “I’ll admit that there’s some truth to what you said. We are an overconfident lot.”

      Mollified, she turned back to Dan. “Then, Wagner, if you’re not an instructor, you must be a student.” Her hazel eyes twinkled, as if enjoying some unknown joke. “Sorry, but the flight school doesn’t open until March.”

      That sent Hunter into unbridled guffaws.

      Miss Fox drew back. “What did I say? Why else would anyone be here in January?”

      Since Hunter was laughing too hard to speak and Dan didn’t want to spoil the fun, Simmons ended up explaining, “Dan Wagner is interested in the cold-weather engine we’ve been testing.”

      Her eyes widened. “Dan Wagner? The Dan Wagner?” She clapped her hands to her cheeks. “I thought you looked familiar.”

      Dan groaned. From the impudent upstart, she’d turned into the dreaded ingenue. He sank back in his chair. “Afraid so.”

      Her cheeks glowed red, but apparently not from embarrassment. “You should teach stunts. Shouldn’t he, Jack? Everyone wants to learn them. The loop-de-loop, the death drop—”

      “No.” Dan cut her off. “I retired from stunt flying.”

      “Retired?” Her shock mirrored that of his former manager.

      The man had nearly wept when Dan delivered the news. Then he had pleaded, even offering to decrease the number of appearances or raise the fee they demanded from air-show sponsors, but Dan could not be swayed. As much as his manager had glossed over the accident by calling it a casualty of aviation, that single event had changed everything. His stunt flying days were over.

      “But you’re famous,” she exclaimed.

      “I’m alive,” he said dryly. Surely she’d read about the crash. The newspapers had seized the story and blown it into something even more horrific than it had actually been, if that was possible.

      The office door opened again, ushering in a lovely brunette, clearly with child. Must be Hunter’s wife. Though more conventionally dressed in a wool dress and pretty by anyone’s assessment, she didn’t have Jen Fox’s spunk.

      She smiled at her husband and then addressed Miss Fox, “Jen, let’s go to the classroom.”

      “The classroom?” Disappointment briefly flashed across Miss Fox’s face before being replaced by trembling hope. “Did I pass?”

      Mrs. Hunter smiled and pointed to the door. “To the classroom. We have to work out a schedule for flight training.”

      “I passed! I passed!” Her whoops could have been heard clear to the train station. “You know what that means, Jack.”

      Hunter squirmed in his seat. “Congratulations.”

      She must have taken that as confirmation of whatever she expected from him, for her smile outshone the electrical lighting. When she next turned it on Dan, unexpected pleasure surged through him. “Pleased to meet you, Wagner. I hope you stay in Pearlman for a while.”

      “That will depend on the test run of the new engine.” Yet as he said it, Dan found himself hoping that the winds stayed too strong for the test flight, at least for a day or two.

      * * *

      Jen could hardly rip her gaze from Dan. Just think. Dan Wagner. Daring Dan Wagner was right here in Pearlman at Jack and Darcy’s flight school. Sure, some aviators got bigger newspaper headlines, but in her estimation Daring Dan was the top flier in the country—if not the world.

      It didn’t hurt that he was incredibly handsome. Wavy auburn hair. Brilliant blue eyes. A commanding jaw and that absolute confidence she’d spotted at once. Sure, a pale scar slashed across his chin, probably from the СКАЧАТЬ