Love Thief, page 13
He glanced at the dash. “We’re making good time. Rocco has a punctuality fetish.”
“Maybe he caught it from you,” she said, wishing that humor would diffuse the energy arcing between them. And that was exactly what the connection between them felt like, an arcing energy snapping from her to him and back to her again. It was maddening. And exciting. And pleasurable. Fun.
Hunter laughed. “I don’t think fetishes are contagious.”
He turned off at the exit for Sausalito. Relief swept Ava. She hadn’t been looking forward to a long car ride. Being in a small space with Hunter was already proving to be more of a challenge than she’d anticipated.
“Damn.” Hunter threw an arm across her and swerved the car to the left.
She gripped the armrest as adrenaline spiked, shooting pinpricks into her arms and chest.
He checked the rearview mirror and pulled off the road. He slid his arm away and tilted his sunglasses up, concern showing in his eyes. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
“Fine.” She wasn’t. “Is there something wrong with the engine?”
“No. But do not get out of the car,” he said in a commanding voice that did nothing to settle her nerves. “It’s a sixty-foot drop on your side, and I’m already risking your life by parking here.” He motioned behind them with his thumb. “I have to get that little guy off the road. Someone hit it and didn’t even bother to stop.”
She twisted in her seat and saw the lifeless opossum in the middle of the lane behind them. “I’ll call the wildlife hospital. It’s only about twenty minutes from here.”
“Hold up. Let me see what’s what.”
She pulled her down jacket out of her backpack. “Take this just in case.”
He waited while a car passed and then hopped out. He waved at an approaching car, using his body rather like a human shield to divert the driver around the downed animal. He knelt in the road and in less than thirty seconds he was up, clutching the animal wrapped in her down jacket.
“Can you handle holding her?” he said as he leaned into the car. “She’s a goner. But as I suspected, she has babies in her pouch.”
Ava nodded and lowered the bundle to her lap. “I’ll call the hospital.”
“No. Call a taxi. Ask him to meet us”—he squinted into the sun at the street sign—“at the intersection of Rodeo and Bridgeway.”
She did as he asked, juggling her phone as she held the opossum. But as he put the car in gear and they sped down the hill, she asked, “Why a taxi?”
“Because the taxi’s going to have to take those babies to the wildlife hospital. I’ll give him triple the fare. We need to shove on.”
He drove slowly down the steep, winding road, avoiding potholes and making every effort not to jostle the bundle Ava held gently to her chest. Five minutes later they pulled up behind the waiting taxi.
As she handed him the bundled animal, Ava felt a little click in her heart. The door she thought she’d shut and locked and barred? The one no guy was going to enter until she was good and ready? It hadn’t been locked. In fact, it wasn’t even a door. Hunter had just walked right into the most guarded part of her heart, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do. At least not about him getting in. But she could be careful going forward.
But as she watched him walk back to the car and the taxi sped off, she knew she was a goner. His rescue of the dead opossum’s babies carved one more niche into the spot where he’d already burrowed into her heart.
“The wildlife hospital staffer said they’re all set up and waiting,” she said, but stating the facts didn’t diffuse the power drawing her to Hunter.
“They’ll have some long nights feeding those little guys, but that’s what they do. I have a soft spot for opossums,” Hunter added. “Actually, I have a soft spot for the defenseless, whether human or animal, but especially for animals. Every animal has its place in the world, but too often we humans decide an animal is inconvenient, gets in the trash or makes a mess. We forget that they were here first.”
She groaned, now sure that God had decided to torture her with this man. No wonder the women of San Francisco wanted him. It wasn’t because he was a charming playboy. It was because he was the real thing beguilingly wrapped in a body that no woman could resist. She was doing a very poor job of resisting. Throw into the mix his passion for helping the defenseless, and she was a goner.
Stazi had warned her to be careful, and Emma’s words from a few days earlier flashed in Ava’s mind. Emma was right. Sometimes what life threw at you made the word careful irrelevant. She might be a highly trained agent, but nothing had prepared her for the danger Hunter Sterling posed to her heart.
To her surprise, they pulled off Bridgeway into a dirt parking lot. A sign hung over a small building advertised seaplane and helicopter tours.
Hunter released his seat belt and pivoted to face her. He wrapped his hand over hers, making her jump.
“Whoa, sorry. I wanted to apologize. Dead or injured animals make some people queasy, and I didn’t even ask before I passed that opossum to you.”
“It’s your lucky day. You are in a car with a person who would, and has, turned her life inside out to rescue animals.”
He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand as his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Another surprise. And though I’d like nothing better than to hear more, we’ll have to wait a bit. For right now, let’s go.”
She got out of the car and headed toward the small building. Hunter caught up to her, a duffel bag in one hand, and took her elbow with his free hand. “This way.” He turned her.
There, gleaming in the sun, was a silver helicopter so sleek and shiny, it looked like a dragonfly from a sci-fi movie.
“We’re taking that?”
Hunter led her to the passenger door. “We are.” He glanced at his watch again. “And if the winds stay calm, we’ll be right on time.”
“But the pilot—”
“You’re looking at him.”
She crossed her arms. “I like to think I’m a brave person. No, I am a brave person. But I am not foolish. These things are hard to fly and—”
“Will it make you feel better if I tell you that I have over five hundred hours flying in one of these babies?”
“Only if you’re telling the truth.”
“Do I seem like a guy who would try to fly something he couldn’t?”
He had her there.
“No.”
“Then hop in. Throw your backpack into the back and buckle up.”
“Is this yours?” she asked as she clicked the buckle into place.
“Borrowed it from a friend.”
He handed her a set of headphones. “You’ll be able to hear me, but these block out some of the noise.”
He flipped switches, and soon the rotor blades were spinning and they were in the air.
“This bird has autorotation capability, so if the engine dies or stops, I can easily glide it to any landing site.”
“I’d rather not think about the engine dying.”
“It won’t happen, but if it did, you’d barely notice the difference.”
She rather thought she would. But she’d only ridden in the rather dilapidated helicopter used for a flyover of the Zulu-Natal refuge. Buying them a better one was at the top of her list. With a fleet of drones and another helicopter, their surveillance would be a thousand percent improved.
Hunter skirted San Francisco, flying them out over the ocean. Seeing the bay from the bridge had been glorious, but zipping along the coast over mountains that dipped down to a steel-blue sea was magnificent. For a moment she wished for a huge canvas, gallons of paint and the time and peace to capture the beauty outspread below her.
“This model broke the world record for highest landing and takeoff—Mount Everest at 29,000 feet. And it performed the world’s highest long-line rescue in Lhotse in the Himalayas at 25,000 feet and—”
“Stop, Hunter. I’m fine. More than fine. It’s gorgeous down there. And I believe that this is a safe vehicle. But it would settle me if I knew where we’re going.”
“Rocco lives near Big Sur. I apologize for the secrecy, but I thought you might not come with me.”
“And why is that?”
“Fear of flying?” he said, giving her a wink visible through the light tint of his sunglasses.
If the innuendo hadn’t done the job, the wink would have. She wasn’t timid about sex, but she had taken it off her plate for a while. Maybe for too long. But no way in hell was she going to take the bait he’d thrown out.
“I’ve flown in a helicopter before. In Africa.”
“Ah. While working on those micro-enterprises in the villages?”
His tone told her he hadn’t fully believed her story from the previous night. And the wave of emotion melting through her as she watched him pilot them to someone who could help her had her again wanting to tell him the full truth. But wisdom had her quickly shutting the impulse down.
“While chasing down elephant poachers.” And murderers. But she definitely wasn’t ready to tell him about Alicia. Not only could doing so reveal far too much about her work, she wasn’t ready to bare the raw spot in her soul.
He took his eyes off the instruments and the horizon and turned to her, lifting his sunglasses to the top of his head. There was no sign of humor in his eyes. For a moment he scanned her face, making her feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. When he looked at her like that, as if he could see into her soul, she wanted to run as far as possible while at the same time wanting to fling herself into his arms.
His hand enclosed hers, shooting heat to her core and waking the craving for him that she had a hard time tamping down.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said softly. “Not now. Maybe someday. Unless there are lives at stake or it’s a matter of justice, I have vowed never to take what isn’t freely given.”
His tender words landed in her heart like a spring rain on a thirsty meadow. She shifted her eyes from Hunter’s steady gaze and focused on the spot where his hand covered hers. At every turn he became impossibly more appealing.
Several men in her past had wanted to align themselves with her fortune—they’d taken advantage of her youthful innocence and tried to manipulate her into marriage. She’d left that innocent college girl behind, but the scars lived on.
Hunter’s honesty and gentle manner made her want to share what she could.
“The bird, as you call it, the one I rode in, in Africa, wasn’t nearly as nice as this one,” she said, fighting to stop the fresh craving his words had planted in her heart. She withdrew her hand from his. “I imagine it didn’t have autorotation,” she added. “Except for the pilot’s, it didn’t even have seats. But it had cargo room enough to transport an injured elephant.” She patted the control panel. “I’m going to buy them one of these.”
He shook his head. “Nope. If you want to transport elephants, you’d be better off with the H145—more cargo space. And it can carry more weight.”
God above, had she been wishing that he’d misstep? Say something skeevy so she could tell her heart it had been misled and was safe now? But no, he hadn’t pried, hadn’t made an unseemly move; he’d just gone on to say the perfect next thing.
She squinted into the light as she pivoted toward him. “Thank you, Hunter.”
“Hey, no thanks needed. A little internet research would tell you the same info.”
“No.” She laid her hand on his arm. His brows rose when he turned to her. “For understanding.” She forced herself to breathe deep into her belly and she straightened her spine. “There are things I can’t tell you—maybe too many things. But I’m grateful for your help.”
Her fingers trembled against the warmth of his forearm. She unbuckled her seat belt with her other hand and swung her legs into the gap between their seats. He froze, watching her. Half crouching, and balancing against his outer thigh, she leaned forward and brought her mouth to his, her lips trembling with banked passion she’d tried to shove down but couldn’t. His lips parted, and she gave in to the blaze she’d thought controllable but wasn’t.
His arm slid around her, and he tumbled her onto his lap, never breaking the contact of their lips. His tongue flicked along her lower lips as his hand threaded into the hair at her neck.
Her headphones slipped, tumbling down her back. The sound of them hitting the floor of the helicopter brought her back to her senses. Hands. Flying. Reluctantly she dragged her lips from his. She wriggled off of Hunter’s lap, pointing to the controls as she scooted back to her seat.
“Um . . . flying? As in you’re the pilot,” she managed to huff out as she grabbed the headphones and buckled herself back into her seat.
He smiled. “Autopilot. You’ll definitely want it. Like cruise control for the sky.”
Heat and want flicked through her as his smile spread to a sexy grin. She was on anything but cruise control.
Chapter 17
Hunter smiled to himself as he positioned the helicopter for the approach to Rocco’s pristine landing pad. Although Ava had been quiet during the last half hour of their flight, he’d caught her sneaking glances at him when she thought he was focused on the control panel or the horizon.
Her kiss had been a surprise. His reaction to her lips hadn’t been.
The sensual promise he’d tasted was far beyond any of his late-night fantasies. He could no more shut down his response than he could stop the waves from crashing against the cliffs below. Go slow, his mind insisted, but he wrestled unsuccessfully with the unstoppable want blazing in him.
Every cell of his being craved more. Years of watching and waiting for the right moment to slip in and make off with the stolen artworks had taught him patience. But it had taken every ounce of restraint for him not to seek a follow-up to Ava’s gift of a kiss.
And hearing more about her work for her foundation while she was in Africa added spice to the mix. Like him, she was driven to see justice win out. But he’d never imagined her chasing down elephant poachers. And with a helicopter, no less. Who would believe it? The woman had drive. Or grit. Or just plain courage. Maybe a bit of recklessness too. But who was he to talk? And maybe she wasn’t reckless at all. Maybe she was a planner and a plotter and had all her steps aligned before she took even the first one.
The more he got to know her, the more his concerns about her being a flighty society woman were being vaporized.
“I’ve only flown over this area on the way to and from Los Angeles. It’s so much more stunning to see the mountains and coastline up close,” Ava said as they began to descend.
“Welcome back,” he said with a chuckle that came out more like a growl. He wasn’t a fool. He’d be crazy to pretend he didn’t hunger for her. But he’d meant what he’d said about giving freely. The kiss had been a gift, but the contact had rocked him and made him want more.
“Thought maybe the cat got your tongue,” he added, tempering his voice to hide a hunger he couldn’t put a name to.
She touched her fingers to her lips. “Just admiring the scenery.”
Her simple gesture made him want to forget about the statue, the thief and Rocco and pull her back into his arms.
“Rocco built this place from the ground up,” he said, attempting to ignore the want screaming through his body.
But it wasn’t just sexual contact he wanted. Ava made him want her. All of her. The elephant poacher-chaser, admirer of beauty, dating-mogul enigma, the snappy-minded, gorgeous, big-hearted, mysterious whole package. He could imagine waking up next to her and never tiring of seeing her smile, hearing her laugh and being twisted into bits by whatever fired her passion.
He hovered the bird, then made a turn and circled so she could have a few more moments to take in the grandeur below them.
Rocco’s estate sat near the top of a two-thousand-foot-high ridge of the Santa Lucia Mountains a few miles north of Big Sur, where the ruggedly stunning coast dropped off sharply into the cresting waves of the Pacific Ocean.
“On a perfectly clear day, you can see most of the coast, maybe fifty miles. The steep mountains and rugged coastline makes it tough to access.” He spoke facts and trivia as a means of reeling in his desire and switching back into work mode. “This remote spot suits Rocco’s personality perfectly,” he added.
“He’s reclusive?”
“When it suits him. He’s been known to enjoy a party or two.”
“This would be an amazing place for a party.” She pointed a finger at the wide deck that wrapped around the main house, visible now as he hovered above the helipad and prepared to descend. “You could dance with the stars overhead and the ocean at your feet.”
The purr of pleasure in her voice and the image she’d painted sent his fantasies into full spin.
Okay, universe. You can stop the campaign to convince me. I’m in.
He lowered the helicopter to the asphalt surface with only the slightest bump, one that wouldn’t even spill a cup of coffee. But the lurch he felt in his heart wasn’t anything like a smooth landing.
“The highway in this area has been closed more than fifty-five times by landslides. Flying’s the only reliable way in and out,” he said.
Rocco’s Irish wolfhound ran up to greet them as they exited the bird. The dog nearly knocked Ava over as he put both paws on her chest and tried to lick her face.
Hunter dropped the duffel he’d pulled from the rear seat and ran to her.
“Down, Robie!” Rocco’s voice boomed as he approached. “I do apologize,” he said to Ava. “He’s still a puppy in training.”
The dog tucked his tail and then sat at Ava’s feet. Hunter smiled. Smart dog. He wasn’t the only one wishing to kiss her.
Rocco grabbed Hunter in an awkward bear hug and held on.
Hunter was still getting used to the shift in Rocco’s behavior. A therapist had told Rocco that hugging increased the levels of oxytocin in the brain, and Rocco, normally physically standoffish, had embraced her wisdom with the zeal of a convert. Hunter suspected his friend’s enthusiasm for the new practice had more to do with Rocco’s infatuation with the therapist than any need for oxytocin.
