Belatedly he wished that he had booked a ticket to Guyana instead. The air hostess's
lilting Trinidadian accent reminded him of his mother's Guyanese intonation and filled him with longing and nostalgia.
But, he reminded himself ruefully, he was thirty-two, not two. His mother couldn't kiss his hurt better like she had
done when he was a little boy.
At the thought of hurt, an image of
Dawn, his wife of seven years, surfaced behind his eyelids: her beautiful heart-shaped face framed by long dark brown hair;
her shy long-lashed eyes; her sweet smile that could erase the tiredness from his body at the end of a long hard day; her
petite, compact body with its narrow waist that he could almost span with his hands; her soft skin and her small firm breasts
with prominent nipples she had always taken great care to conceal under clothing.
He had never told her that he'd stole occasional glimpses of their entwined bodies in the mirror of their built-in
wardrobe as they made love. She would have been mortified if she had known. Those glimpses had heightened his
arousal. Their cocoa-brown skin tones were so closely matched it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began,
except for his harder, muscular frame contrasting with her smoother, softer contours. The sight of her slim body pressed
against his had been so unbearably erotic....
Abruptly his image
was superimposed in his mind's eye by one of rippling dark chocolate.
Damn
you, Anthony! He silently cursed his best friend for the thousandth time in days, filled once again with the all-consuming
rage that was bubbling beneath the surface of his tight-lipped exterior.
"Are you okay?" The softly whispered inquiry from the female passenger across the gangway to his
left brought Kevin back to the present.
Curbing his annoyance, he
opened his eyes, turned his head and looked into her worried dark gaze. Forcing himself to relax, he assured her, "I'm
fine, thank you."
"It was probably just a patch of turbulence,"
she comforted, reaching over to stroke his hand which was clutching the armrest in a vicelike grip.
Turbulence? He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had been unaware
of anything else, his inner turmoil greater than whatever the plane had encountered.
Her caressing hand was slim, long-fingered, soft and soothing. Kevin took an audible breath,
slackened his grip on the armrests and released the last remnants of the fury that had engulfed him.
The woman and her male companion had been among the last passengers to board the flight. The
tall, debonair, light-complexioned man was clearly twice the age of the stunning, dark-skinned diva.
And diva she seemed to be. Soon after takeoff an air hostess had brought her two
extra blankets, although she was wearing a woollen hat, thick jumper, baggy jeans and the pair of socks she had pulled on
immediately after kicking off her red, high-heeled pumps.
As the
man had tucked the blankets around her, Kevin had noticed the thick gold band on his wedding finger. The only ring she
wore was an intricately designed silver ring on her left thumb.
The
man had pulled out official-looking documents embossed with the Barbadian coat-of-arms from a briefcase and perused them for
an hour or two before putting them away. He had then ensured that the blankets were still tightly wrapped around the
young woman who, as soon as the man had tucked her in, had snuggled her head onto his shoulder, as if her head was too heavy
for her poor neck to carry, and fallen asleep. Assured that his little darling was comfortable, the man had leaned back
against the headrest of his seat, his head touching the top of hers and fallen asleep himself.
Kevin had shaken his head in disapproval, praying that as he advanced in age that his brain wouldn't
become addled enough for him to date a woman decades his junior. For him, there was nothing more pathetic than an older
man trying to retain or regain his youth by dating a woman young enough to be his daughter. It was obvious that the
man had been on a business trip. He had probably been too afraid to leave his nubile mistress alone for more than a
day. She looked like the type to play while he was away.
Now
she had awoken and was caressing the back of Kevin's hand, looking at him as if she wanted to induct him into the Mile-High
Club while the old fool was sleeping.
"Thanks for your concern.
I'm fine." Kevin smiled frigidly, pointedly moving his hand away from her seductive stroking.
She hastily removed her hand, snuggled her head back against the older man's broad shoulder and
closed her eyes without saying another word.
Yes, Ms Gold Digger,
get back to your sugar daddy!
***
Well, excuse me for giving a damn! Kimberley Collins felt like
slapping herself as she snuggled back against her father and closed her eyes in embarrassment.
She had thought the man was having a heart attack the way he had been breathing rapidly, his broad
chest moving up and down in agitation, beads of perspiration popping out on his forehead, his hands gripping the armrests
like his very life depended on it! Okay, maybe it hadn't been that bad, but the man had been visibly distraught.
Alright, if she hadn't been constantly peering at him from under her lashes she might not have noticed his distress, but surely
he couldn't blame her for feasting her eyes when he insisted on looking so damned gorgeous. She had innocently reached
across to offer comfort. It wasn't her fault that his skin was firm and smooth, and felt so damned good under her fingers
that she had kept stroking it longer than necessary.
Okay, she would
admit that she might have gotten a little bit carried away. But damn, the man's skin was deliciously strokeable!
Taut, stretched firmly over the underlying muscles and so hot it warmed her chilled palm.
It was only as he had pulled his hand away that she had noticed the glaring line on his finger where
he must have worn a wedding band until quite recently. In fact, the line was so glaring he had probably forgotten to
put it back on after his shower that very morning!
He must think
she was desperate!
Kimberley's groan of mortification was thankfully
muffled by her father's sturdy shoulder.
***
