Page 46 of Angel In Armani

He shook his head. “No. I’m good. Thanks for doing this. You were right about it relaxing them.”

“Yeah, Sam had fun.” She peered up at him. “What were you saying to them at the end there? You got them looking all nervous again.”

“I was explaining to them certain things about the way we expect women to be treated in the Saints,” he said.

“One of them called me hot or something?” she asked. She shook her head at him. “I can cope with a teenager, Lucas. You don’t have to defend my honor.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I don’t want that attitude on my team. The other players would take their heads off if they caught them talking like that about Maggie Jameson or any of the other female employees, for one thing. For another, it’s just wrong.”

“So you can hit on me, but no one else can? Wow, you don’t like other people playing with your toys, do you?”

He scowled. “You’re not a toy. And frankly, that’s insulting. I’ve made my position clear, yes, but it’s up to you. Tell me you never want me to mention it again, and I’ll never mention it again.”

He paused and watched her. Her cheeks, which had a faint hint of pink from the sun, went pinker and she glared at him but, tellingly, she said nothing. Something primal flared in his gut. Desire. Need.

She hadn’t said no.

He’d given her a clean shot to tell him to take a hike and she hadn’t said it.

She wanted him. So now he had to figure out how to get her to say that part. Because he was going to crawl out of his skin if he didn’t get to touch her again soon.

But it was probably wiser not to push his luck just at the moment.

“And sure, if guys want to hit on you, they can. I’m sure you can handle them. But making a genuine pass is different from talking trash. I don’t let it happen at the hospital and I’m not going to let it happen here.”

“Okay,” she said. Then she nodded toward the helicopter. “I really should get this back to the airfield.”

He wanted to tell her to stay but it was clearly not the right time. He was going to find the right time. Very soon. But now he just nodded. “I have to be back in New York tomorrow, so we’ll be leaving about midday.”

“Do you need me before then?”

“No,” he said. “But I’m sure Sam and his friends would like it if you came by to watch them again in the morning.” They weren’t the only ones.

“All right,” she said. “I will. See you tomorrow.”

She should be home by eight at the latest. That was her plan. Deliver Lucas to Staten Island then deliver herself to her parents to pick up Dougal and head home. She smiled at the thought. She’d promised herself a night off, a tiny reward. Her, Thai takeout, Dougal, and a few hours to catch up on the shows her aging TiVo had hopefully recorded for her while she’d been in Florida. British detectives and melodramatic billionaire vigilantes and reruns of half a dozen other shows she’d missed while deployed.

A night off without having to worry about Charles Air. Her salary with the Saints would take care of the bills for now, and she would start chasing up the insurance company again in the morning. Tonight she was going to just relax.

Something she hadn’t been doing enough of lately. Something that she definitely hadn’t been doing in Florida. Being around Lucas close enough to twenty-four seven wasn’t remotely relaxing.

The fact that it wasn’t relaxing, that she was still far too aware of every move he made and the sound of his voice, was even more not relaxing.

She had a knot between her shoulders the size of the Grand Canyon from pretending not to notice him. But a bath, some red wine, and mindless TV should take care of that.

Heaven.

But first she had to get through the final, less heavenly part of the evening. One last flight from JFK back to Staten Island with Lucas.

She should be grateful, she supposed. She was flying again. And she’d been hungry to fly. Starving for it, in fact. Now she would have all the flying she could want. With someone else picking up all the bills.

All thanks to Lucas.

But it was hard to be grateful to the man.

Not when she knew, somewhere deep down and barely acknowledged, that it wasn’t the chance to fly again that had made her heart bounce when she climbed into the pilot’s seat. No, it was seeing Lucas himself.

Which meant she was all kinds of stupid. He made her all kinds of stupid.

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