Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,21

clean, pressed button-up shirt, impeccably tailored even to the most stringent of military standards, walked into her field of vision.

His gleaming gold pilot’s wings adorned the left side of his broad chest, and above his right chest pocket he wore a bright name badge with the words “Captain Armstrong, Trans Pacific Airlines.”

This pilot stood about six feet four, with piercing green eyes. He wore a captain’s hat embroidered with a gold leaf and it had his airline insignia centered above the visor. Peering out from the underside of the visor and on the visible side of his temple was nearly black hair, well trimmed and styled. His skin tone was slightly dark, perhaps a hint of a Mediterranean heritage. His face was clean shaven, showcasing his incredibly sensual lips.

His physique was a sight to behold, with broad shoulders, a muscular, well-defined chest, and deltoids, biceps, and triceps filling out his dress shirt. Stormy’s eyes followed the natural progression of his impressive physique, dropping to the black belt fitted perfectly at his hips.

Why did he look familiar?

It wasn’t until he was right in front of her that the connection clicked.

Flashes of a moonlit beach—a hot, steamy shower, and even hotter kisses—large, strong hands tracing her body . . .

Reaching for the missing necklace again, she fought the dizziness she suddenly felt. She knew this man, though he was someone she’d never thought she’d see again. And now she knew his name, or at least his last name. Her body trembled as she faced him. It had been years, six years to be exact, and he’d changed, but the instant ache between her thighs was a quick reminder that her body hadn’t forgotten him.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she allowed herself to remember that night, remember every moment of it with him expertly caressing every inch of her, making her cry out over and over again. She’d done things with this man she’d never done before, and certainly hadn’t done since.

How did one follow up with another man after being with someone like Green Eyes? He’d been incredible, and she hadn’t once felt the same reaction with another man.

Her cheeks flaming, Stormy looked at Green Eyes and waited for recognition to light his eyes. But there was nothing there except a slight tilt to his head and definite interest in his expression.

He had no clue who she was.

Damn! She hadn’t thought she was quite that forgettable, even if it had been six years earlier and she’d grown more curves and lost that youthful glow only a twenty-year-old could have. Well, her hair was now its naturally dark brown color again, too . . .

Still, her ego took a nosedive.

But did she really want him to know who she was? Would he expect a repeat performance? Would that be so bad? Questions with no answers flooded her mind as she stood there unable to speak.

“Did you hear me?” Green Eyes asked.

“What? No. I’m sorry,” Stormy replied. He must have placed an order with her, and she hadn’t processed a single thing that had come out of his mouth.

“I want an Americano, four shots with room for cream.”

Her brain was still muddled and she just stared at him blankly. Dammit. With all the blood rushing through her brain, she couldn’t quite grasp what he was asking.

“I want an Americano with four shots and room for cream,” he repeated, very slowly now. “I’ve been gone a while, but I would hope the servers here could still actually serve coffee.”

“Yes, sorry, I’ll get that right away.”

She turned and knocked down the container of half-and-half, cream spilling all over her leg and the floor. Silence echoed off the walls for several moments until he spoke again.

“Have a rough night?” he asked with a laugh.

She shuddered. She was really thrown off her game right now, and though it frustrated her, she was fighting tears. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, doll. I know women, and obviously you’re having a rough day, maybe not getting enough sleep. Maybe you should dump the man who’s giving you those circles under your eyes and let a real man make sure you’re resting like a baby,” he boldly told her, then added insult to injury when he winked.

She was mortified to know she’d slept with this man. Even more mortified to realize she still couldn’t regret it, even if he was acting like a typical alpha pilot who thought panties were automatically supposed to drop when he entered the room. Taking a deep breath,