Cherry Adair - Dare Me (Signet Eclipse)

SIGNET ECLIPSE

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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Playing for Keeps copyright Cherry Wilkinson, 2005 Nothing to Lose copyright Jill Shalvis, 2005 Dare to Desire copyright Julie Leto Klapka, 2005 All rights reserved

ISBN: 0-7394-5043-3

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To Rachel Kizer, my favorite .5

You go above and beyond, and I love you for it.

Mahalo.

Danica Cross wheeled the drinks cart down the narrow aisle, heading back to the galley. The cabin of the 737 was hotter than usual, and she blew her bangs off her clammy forehead as she walked. While handing out drinks with plenty of ice, she assured the passengers that the problem with the heat would soon be resolved.

She'd reported the passengers' complaints to the captain an hour ago, but she couldn't feel a notice-able decrease in the temperature at all and tempers were rising with the heat.

She wasn't usually fancifuland God only knew Captain Marks was an ass, but she doubted he'd leave the temperature this high intentionally. Danica hated to even think it, but something was wrong. She'd had this vague niggle of disquiet since Flight

723 had taken off from South America two hours ago, and the sensation had only become stronger.

With relief she pushed the drinks cart into the small galley and locked it in place, then tugged her white uniform shirt away from her damp skin at the small of her back.

"Did you give Monster Kid his ninety-ninth apple juice?" Angie Hotchner asked, handing Danica a cold soda.

While the more experienced flight attendant looked as hot as Danica felt, she didn't appear concerned. Danica tried to ignore the butterflies doing takeoffs and landings in her tummy. Forcing a smile, she accepted the drink, rubbing the icy can over her forehead. "Shh, someone will hear you." Popping the tab, she rested her butt on the cabinet behind her as she drank.

"Oh, like they couldn't hear the kid whining for the past ten thousand miles?" Angie jerked her head toward the cabin. "Have you ever seen anyone kiss up to a seven-year-old like that?"

"This heat's getting to everyone." All 148 seats were occupied by sweating members of President Pa-lacios's staff. And one of those passengers was his very bored, very spoiled son. It had been a long, long flight from San Cristobal to Miami with an all-male, all-demanding, all-women-are-servants contingent of passengers. The heat, coupled with the loud demands of a cranky, whiny child, didn't help any-one's disposition.

Dani, Angie and the first officer, Jean Harris, were the only females on board. Lucky them. The crew had been offered a hefty bonus to do the round-trip from Miami to South America and back in one day. Danica had her eye on a nice little condo in Delray Beach. Thoughts of that bonus had kept her moving, and biting her tongue, as she'd worked her way through the cabin.

"He's President Palacios's only son," she finally answered after gulping the rest of the soda and savoring the icy burn down her dry throat. "Guess the little guy's used to getting what he wants."

"Yeah?" Angie took a lipstick out of her pocket and uncapped it. "If he were my kid I'd blister his arrogant little butt so bad he wouldn't be able to sit down for a wee Jay-sus! Is it menopause, or is it getting hotter in here?"

Danica tossed her empty can in the trash with studied nonchalance. "Everyone's still complaining. I'll go speak to the captain again."

"May the Force be with you."

Danica grinned as she pushed through the curtain and turned to the secure door into the cockpit. She pressed the buzzer, then stood there with the sensation of every dark eye from the cabin checking out her butt. Should've grabbed a diet soda. "Come on, you guys, open up," Danica mumbled under her breath, glancing through the portal in the exit door at the blur of murky browns and faded greens thirty thousand feet below. They were already flying over the Everglades. She'd be home in just over an hour. A dip in the apartment pool sounded heavenly.

She jabbed the buzzer again.

Jon, her soon-to-be-ex, was a white-knuckle flier. Perhaps in some perverse way that was why Danica had become a flight attendant a year ago when she'd seen the writing on the wall. So much for soul mates.

"Open up, Jean," Danica muttered under her breath, frowning at the closed and locked door to the cockpit.

Dean Marks was an arrogant, womanizing jerk. And if the copilot had been any woman other than Jean, Danica would have been convinced they were boinking in the cockpitwhich Marks had almost been caught doing on a flight to Singapore last year. But since Jean was a happily married grandmother of five, he wouldn't get to first base. Okay. So no mile-high club in the cockpit. Why weren't they opening the friggin' door? Bile churned in Dani's stomach.

Glancing down at the small gold watch on her wrist while she waited, she sighed. Still another twenty-two minutes and thirty seconds to go on this flight from hell. She pressed the buzzer again with a little more force than necessary. The bonus, remember the bonus...

The door between the cockpit and the main cabin didn't open, and Danica felt a spurt of something elemental in the pit of her stomach. Instinctively she knew the door wasn't going to open. It wasn't her imagination. Something was wrong. She pasted a reassuring smile on her face for the passengers and hotfooted it back to Angie in the galley.