Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside. Debbi Rawlins
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“It’s the hydraulics on the right aileron. But we’re compensating. And we’re cleared to land. I don’t want anybody back there to panic.”
“We’re not panicking,” Jack responded.
“I’m panicking,” Kristy hissed.
“He says he’s compensating.”
“What else is he going to say? That we should write our wills on a cocktail napkin?”
Hunter crossed to the seat beside Kristy. He belted himself in then took her hand in him. “If it was a serious danger, he’d be telling us to assume the crash position.”
“Do we know the crash position?”
“Feet back, head down, hands behind your neck.” Jack demonstrated.
Kristy tugged her hand from Hunter’s and tried it, just in case, while the landing gear whined, and the wheels clunked into place.
Simon’s voice came over the speaker once again. “Relax, everybody. Make sure your seat belts are tight. I’m not expecting anything but a slightly bumpy landing.”
Kristy clasped Dee Dee to her chest, glancing out the window, trying desperately to quell the churning in her stomach.
She could see the outskirts of the city. The houses loomed large against the desert landscape. The strip rose up in the distance, glaringly brilliant and really quite beautiful from this angle. She’d give a lot to see the inside of a bright, clanking, smoky casino or even an Elvis chapel before she died.
“Kristy?”
“What?”
Jack reached for her hand across the table. “Look at me.”
She glanced up as his warm palm closed over hers. She wondered vaguely how his hand could be warm at a time like this. Hers felt like ice.
“What the dog’s name?” he asked softly.
“Dee Dee.”
“Dee Dee’s going to be okay,” he said.
His eyes locked onto hers, and his deep voice rumbled through her body. “You’re going to be okay. And I’m going to be okay. An hour from now, we’ll all be laughing about this over wine and grilled lobster on the Strip.”
Kristy didn’t really believe him, but he seemed to be waiting for an answer. So she gave the barest of nods, and he squeezed her hand in response.
“Just keep looking at me, Kristy. I swear it’ll be all right.”
She held his gaze, and she started to feel hope.
The runway rushed up to meet them. The plane lurched to one side. Red emergency lights flashed in her peripheral vision. But for some ridiculous reason, Kristy kept her faith in Jack.
CHAPTER TWO
AS THE Gulfstream finally coasted to a halt at the far end of the runway, Jack quickly rose from his seat. There was no reason for anyone to be hurt, but he wanted to make sure.
True to Simon’s word, it had only been a bumpy landing, followed by a long stretch of deceleration. Even now, the emergency vehicles were struggling to catch up.
Still holding her hand, Jack went to Kristy first. “Okay?” he asked, peering into her eyes.
She gave him a series of swift nods, one hand stroking the little dog.
He smiled at her, let go of her hand and moved forward to where Leonardo was belted in. The man looked pale, but otherwise perfectly fine. Jack strode past the small closet and pulled open the flimsy cockpit door. “Simon?”
“All’s well,” Simon confirmed.
The copilot gave Jack a thumbs up.
There was a loud banging on the cabin door, and Jack quickly released the latch and lowered the staircase.
“Everybody okay?” shouted the fireman standing closest to the stairs. He was flanked by two others in their turnout gear. Behind the trio was a lights-flashing fire engine, an ambulance and two paramedics on the rain-spattered runway.
“We’re all fine,” said Jack as an airport security car pulled up, yellow lights adding to the show.
Simon appeared next to Jack’s shoulder.
“A hydraulic problem,” he told the emergency workers. “I’ll meet you inside to fill out the paperwork.”
“You need me for anything?” asked Jack.
Simon shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. But you’ll have a few hours to kill.”
Jack nodded then turned to find Hunter and Leonardo both on their feet. Leonardo was helping Kristy into her coat, balancing the little dog in his arms while he tried to be of assistance in the narrow aisle.
“We might as well go inside,” Jack said to them. “It’ll take some time to do the incident report and look at repairs.”
“Can I be of assistance?” asked Leonardo.
“Don’t worry about us,” said Jack. “Simon or I will call you when we know anything.”
“Thanks,” said Leonardo, handing the dog back to Kristy and giving it a pat on the head.
Jack gestured for Kristy to be first out of the aircraft, and one of the firemen came partway up the stairs to take her hand.
“I’m fine,” she protested.
“It’s slippery from the rain, ma’am. If you follow me to the car, security will take you to the terminal.”
Jack shrugged into his overcoat and followed them down the stairs. Hunter was right behind him, and the three hitched a ride in the back seat of the sedan to the main terminal at McCarran International.
As the glass doors of the terminal glided open, he breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was safe, and the plane was intact. But, as soon as those facts were neatly filed away, his pragmatic brain began calculating the silver lining. At the very least, he’d bought himself three or four hours. Because, despite his connection with Kristy during the emergency landing, his mission hadn’t changed. And he now had some extra time to figure out how to stop her wedding to his grandfather.
The doors swooshed shut, and the noise and confusion of the main terminal engulfed them. They joined the crowd snaking its way past the luggage carousels and rental-car booths, and Jack fought an urge to put an arm around her shoulders and keep her close to his side. Ridiculous, he told himself. She’d had a bit of a scare, sure. But she was from New York City. This crowd certainly wasn’t going to rattle her.
He raised his voice so that Hunter and Kristy would hear him over the din. “I say we head for Bellagio’s.” He couldn’t see hanging around an airport for three or four hours. Not when Le Cirque was so close by.
“I’m going to grab a commercial flight,” said Hunter, slowing down and stepping out of the main pedestrian stream. The escalator next to him stretched up to the departures level. “I’ve got a golf date with Milo and Harrison in the morning,” he finished.
Jack glanced at Kristy, worried she might hop on a commercial plane, as well. But he quickly realized she wouldn’t want to pay full price for a same-day ticket.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” he put in, before it occurred to her to call Cleveland and ask for his credit-card number.
Kristy glanced around the crowded terminal. “You go ahead. I can wait here.”
Was she masochistic?
“My treat,” he clarified, in case money was stopping her. He would have paid for her dinner in any case. It was his plane. She was his guest.
She started to back away. “I’m sure you have plenty