Tim managed to slink a little more in the seat without further mangling his knees. He kept his eyes firmly closed.

“And how could I have gotten bumped from first class? Who do they have up there, Prince William? It’s such an insult.” She must have tipped to the side, trying to get comfortable again, because Tim felt her hair brush his arm. With it came an exotic, almost irresistible scent. Flowers and woman.

Normally he’d love that-both the sensation and the scent-but he drew the line at far-too-young, crazy women.

The plane started to move. Good. People didn’t like to talk during takeoff. At least, he didn’t. It was the ultimate sleeping time.

She didn’t speak for fifteen whole seconds. His hopes rose.

“Oh, dear.” Her voice wobbled, suddenly not sounding confident at all. “You’d think with how many times I’ve done this, I’d be better at takeoff.”

He felt her arm slide against his as she gripped the armrest between them. Soft, smooth skin. Warm to the touch.

Don’t open your eyes, Banning.

“Did you hear that sputter in the engine?” she wondered, nudging him. “Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you, but was that a sputter, do you think?”

Maybe a different man could have ignored that note of sharp fear in her voice, but he’d never been able to turn from someone who was afraid. Opening his eyes, he craned his neck her way. “Just normal takeoff noises,” he assured her.

She stopped chewing her gum and bit her lip, hands still clenched on the armrests at her sides, which meant in the small confines they shared, her elbow was plowing into his ribs.

“Really,” he added, a little startled at the depth of her dark gold eyes. She had dark gold hair to match, even if it was spiked straight up, showing off ears that were pierced all the way up the outside. “We’re going to be fine,” he added, wanting to clear that up before his nap in order to avoid another interruption.