“Nothing important. Like I said, it’s fine,” she said.
Two fines. Which meant she was annoyed, if not outright pissed, if his female-interpreting skills weren’t failing him. “If you did have plans, you could tell me,” he said. “We’re paying you to be a pilot, not a slave.”
This time he saw the muscle on her jaw tighten. “You’re paying me to be on call. That means ask and you shall receive.”
Oh, how he wished that were true. There were many things he wanted to ask her for. But no. She was stubborn. She’d decided to ignore whatever this was sparking between them. Even if it killed them both.
“It’s okay to let me know if you have a problem,” he said. “I’m not going to fire you if you disagree with me.”
She slanted him a look, eyes a mysterious shade in the odd light shed by the chopper’s instruments. “I’ll try to remember that.”
He shook his head and sat back, watching for a few minutes as Sara flew them through the darkness, working out what he should say next.
Sitting up here in the front of the helicopter didn’t make flying any more pleasant other than putting him within reaching distance of Sara. Watching her was a pleasure. Not just because she was gorgeous but also because of the way she flew.
She seemed part of the helicopter, moving with ease as she steered—was that the word?—and checked instruments and kept them moving forward through the air. Almost a dance. The way a good surgical team worked together. Every movement certain. Every movement purposeful.
It was clearly her world.
Despite the fact she wasn’t happy with him, he could see that she was happy in the helicopter. Relaxed in a subtle way, some of the tension she always carried with her gone while she was up here in the air.
His own tension at being up here retreated a little just watching her.
He wanted to be able to watch her more often. And not just when they were in helicopters.
The question was, how did he convince Sara to give them a chance? He watched the lights of the city growing closer and brighter as they sped through the darkness and the small half smile on Sara’s face as she flew.
At least, she was smiling until she noticed that he was watching her. Then the smile became pursed lips and brows drawing down. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just admiring the view.”
Her eyes narrowed and he grinned at her. “What, you don’t like the sight of Manhattan by night? Or did you think I was talking about something else?”
“Don’t try and charm me.”
“Why not? You seem eminently worth charming. Actually, no, scrap that. I know you’re eminently worth charming, remember?”
Her mouth flattened, and he knew that she was going to tell him off. But he’d also seen the tiny flare of her pupils. Which told him that she remembered, too.
And that she liked that memory, even if she was trying not to.
He settled back in the seat. “You do remember, don’t you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory,” she said in a cool tone.
“Then—”
“There’s also nothing wrong with my common sense,” she said. “So stop trying to charm me.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Try harder.”
“Oh, I’ve been trying. But I’m not a slow learner. I know that banging your head against the wall doesn’t help anything. So when trying not to think about you didn’t work, I decided to change tactics.”
She sucked in a breath, and he wondered what she was going to say about that. But then the radio crackled to life.
“Land the helicopter,” he said as she glared at it then back at him. “We can talk about this on the ground.”