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"Perhaps I'd better explain a little of her background. I first met her in a Cape Town nightclub seven or eight years ago. It seems her late father owned a large winery in Cape Town, along with several of his own private vineyards... rather famous in local wine circles from what I understand. Anyway, he died of a sudden heart attack a few years back and left the entire operation to his only child... Annie. She'd grown up flying her father's aircraft, a small twin-engine Beechcraft I think she said. At any rate, she said she was always more interested in flying than in running a company, so after he died, she incorporated the private family business, reserved the duties of President and Corporate Chief Pilot for herself and left the running of the company to a board of directors. There was a stockholders'meeting here in London this week, so she and Linda, her co-pilot, flew up last night to pick the directors up and transport them back to Cape Town." You mean they flew an old. He smelled foul, but more than made up for it by how he felt against her.And it felt good – his body was hard and lean against hers, one of his hands kneading her ass, the other stroking up her spine. She could feel him hard against her thighs, and he shuddered deliciously when she rocked her hips against him.She wanted this – wanted him – so badly it hurt. But he’d just had an attempt on his life, and she wasn’t about to let him hide from that truth. He needed to deal with it – and she needed to know it was her he wanted, not just a distraction.She gentled the kiss, then stopped with her forehead pressed against his softly. “The first time we make love,” she quoted back at him with a smile, “it won’t be on the ground with you smelling like the wrong side of a seedy tavern.”He groaned. “The first time?”She giggled and shook her head against his. “I mean it. We need to check you for needles Zevran missed. Then you need a bath, and some sleep.”“There’s no needles,” he objected.“You.
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