refuses to see that the world is changing.”
“A title?” Two lines formed between his eyebrows. “Like a job title? Or one you inherit?”
“Inherit. I want nothing to do with it, but he has other plans. I’m hoping I can change them before the war is over.” That didn’t seem to work. He still looked worried. “It’s not like there’s much of anything left anyway. My parents have spent just about everything. It’s minor—the title—and really doesn’t matter, I promise. Can we change the subject?”
“Sure.” He set his silverware on the plate, then changed the record to Billie Holiday and offered his hand as “The Very Thought of You” began to play. “Dance with me, Scarlett.”
“All right.” She couldn’t resist. He was magnetic, sinfully gorgeous, and ridiculously charming.
His arms surrounded her as they swayed to the beat in the dying sunlight, and she melted when he pulled her in close. Her head rested perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder, and the rough canvas of his coveralls only served to remind her that this was very real.
How easy it would be to lose herself in this man for a while, to forget all that raged around them and would eventually come for them, to claim something—someone—for herself.
“Do you have someone waiting at home?” she questioned, hating the way her voice pitched toward the end.
“No one at home. No one here. Just my little record player.” His chuckling voice rumbled against her ear. “And I do love music, but it’s hardly a monogamous relationship.”
“So you don’t fly every girl to sunset dinners?” She tilted her head back slightly.
He lifted his hand, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Never. I knew I was a lucky bastard if I even got one shot with you, so I figured it had better be a good one.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. “It was. It is.”
“Good.” He nodded slowly. “Now I have everything set up for the next officer I find on the side of the road.”
She scoffed, then pushed off his chest with a laugh, but he kept hold of her wrist and reeled her back in, bringing his mouth dangerously close to hers.
Yes. She wanted to kiss him, to know how he tasted, to feel his lips moving with hers.
“Are you ready?” His hand splayed on her lower back, pulling her closer.
“Ready?” she asked, rising on her toes.
“Well, you seem a little inexperienced,” he whispered, dipping lower.
“I am.” It came out as breathless as she felt. She’d only been kissed once, so she could hardly call that experience.
“It’s okay; we’ll go slow,” he promised as his hand rose to cup her cheek. “I don’t want you to be frightened when I turn the controls over.”
She ignored whatever Americanism that was and arched her neck, but the man stepped back. He. Backed. Away? She stood there like a fish with her mouth open as he grinned.
“Let’s go, trainee, let’s make this little flight legitimate.” He held out his hand.
She blinked rapidly. “Trainee?” Was she getting her vernacular confused?
He drew her against him, caressing her neck and tunneling his hands through her hair as he lowered his lips to what had to be only centimeters above her own.
“You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now, Scarlett.”
And there went her knees.
Good, then they were on the same page.
“But if we don’t leave right this second, we’ll lose the horizon, and that will make it three times harder to keep the airplane level while you’re flying it.”
She gasped, and he brushed his lips over hers, taunting her with the promise of a kiss before leaving her wanting.
“Wait. Flying it?” she exclaimed.
“Well, yeah, what do you think training flights are for?” He took her hand and tugged her gently. “Come on, you’re going to love it. It’s addictive.”
“And deadly.”
He turned, then lifted her in his arms so he could place her on the wing. Everywhere their bodies connected hummed.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. “You just have to trust me.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. I can do that.”
Chapter Five
Georgia
Dear Constance,
Leaving you today was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. If it were only me, I never would have left. I would have stayed by your side and seen this war through, just as we promised. But we both know this was never about me. My heart screams for all that we’ve lost in the past few days—at the injustice of it all. I promised you once that I would never