Two Dauntless Hearts. Elle James
lithe body and the taste of her pink lips. The woman was sexy when she was all into her element of flying.
Pitbull wished he could enjoy the view more. And he might if he could relax, like she said, and enjoy the ride. But this wasn’t Pitbull’s preferred method of transport. It would take a whole lot more time in the craft for him to get even remotely comfortable. In the meantime, he’d suffer through, for the sake of the team.
* * *
MARLY ALMOST FELT sorry for Pitbull. Once she was over five hundred feet in the air, she shot a glance his way.
The man was as tense as a drawn bowstring. His knuckles were white where they curled around the armrest, and he stared through the front windshield unblinkingly.
She couldn’t talk him down from his panic. She’d already tried. The best she could do was to land the plane safely and smoothly.
Marly had to admit Pitbull had been the one to catch her eye among the navy SEAL team members. His hard-packed body, square jaw and intense expression made her heart flutter, an occurrence she hadn’t experienced in her twenty-nine years. Until she’d met the SEAL team and Pitbull.
Knowing he had a deep fear of fixed-wing aircraft didn’t diminish his attraction in the least. It actually increased it in Marly’s eyes. It proved he wasn’t perfect, like she’d originally thought. After her first encounter with the team, she’d read up on the elite units of navy SEALs and what it took to become one. And wow! This man sitting beside her had braved some of the worst conditions and treatment, muscled through and had become one of America’s best.
From what she’d learned from others among the team, they’d deployed multiple times to the Middle East, Africa and other places around the world on deadly missions. Pitbull couldn’t be afraid of much, if he strode headlong into danger.
Marly had waded into dangerous situations on more than one occasion and been scared she wouldn’t emerge alive. But somehow, she had. Many times she’d considered moving back to the States and setting up a charter service there, but her mother still worked in the small villages of Africa, helping serve the poor and sick. Until her mother left Africa, she figured she might as well stay. Marly didn’t have friends or family in Virginia, where she was born. Why go back?
She glanced over at the man in the seat beside her. Perhaps if she had someone to go home to...
Not that Pitbull was that someone. Marly had grown up independent, running wild in the villages where her mother and father had worked. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a full-time relationship. Freedom was everything to her.
And sometimes, with that freedom came loneliness.
Time passed. Marly made the scheduled stop to refuel at a small airfield halfway to their destination in northern Kenya. Her landing was so soft, she could have been kissing the ground. It didn’t matter—Pitbull had a death grip on the armrest anyway.
The men clambered out, made their visit to the latrine and hurried back as the attendant completed the refueling. Pitbull offered to let someone else sit in the copilot’s seat, but there were no takers.
Marly hid a smile. She didn’t want someone else riding shotgun. She liked the view inside the cockpit.
Her takeoff was a little less graceful as she hit a couple pockets of air that tipped the wings slightly, making the plane wobble on the ascent. Marly sighed. She couldn’t win every time.
Over the next hour, the color slowly returned to Pitbull’s knuckles as he loosened his grip on the armrest.
Marly glanced at the savanna ahead and spotted some of Africa’s finest wildlife. She turned her head toward the rear of the plane. “If you look out to the southwest, you’ll see herds of water buffalo and zebras.”
The men in the seats behind her leaned forward and peered through the cabin windows.
Pitbull sat forward and craned his neck, scanning the land below.
“If you look carefully, I’ll bet you can see a pride of lions lurking nearby.” Marly tipped the nose of the plane downward.
Pitbull sat back, his grip tightening again on the armrest. “What are you doing?” he said, his voice clipped, his lips pulled back into a tight line.
“It’s okay,” Marly said. “I’m getting a little lower so you can see the animals.”
“Isn’t that what the safari is for?” Pitbull asked.
“Yes, but you can’t see the vastness of the herd from the ground like you can from the air.”
Buck laid a hand on Pitbull’s shoulder. “Stop worrying and start drinking in this amazing view.”
Pitbull closed his eyes briefly, sucked in a deep breath and let it out before nodding and reopening his eyes. “You’re right. I need to stop worrying. This plane will get us there.”
“And the excellent pilot,” Buck added.
Marly shot a grateful smile over her shoulder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
And then, without warning, the engine sputtered, coughed and died.
Marly set the plane altitude for the best glide speed and turned her focus to the control panel. Her experience and training kicked in.
“What’s happening?” Pitbull’s voice said into her ear.
She didn’t respond, needing every second of her attention on safely landing the disabled plane. Because they were so low already, Marly mentally went through an abbreviated emergency checklist and lowered the landing gear, all while scanning the surroundings for a suitable place to land.
Marly keyed her mic. “Mayday, mayday, mayday.”
“Holy hell,” Pitbull whispered beside her.
She’d promised to keep him safe on this flight, probably jinxing them all in the process. “Bravo-bravo-niner-eight-niner, experiencing engine failure. Bearing down on the savanna twenty miles north of the All Things Wild Safari & Resort, seven souls on board.”
The air traffic controller acknowledged her distress call and offered to send a rescue crew to the location of their transponder.
Marly eased back on the yoke, trading airspeed for altitude, aiming the plane in the direction of the longest, flattest spot on the huge field. Unfortunately, it was occupied by a herd of zebras and water buffalos.
She couldn’t take her gaze off the ground ahead, so she raised her voice loud enough that the men in the rear could hear. “Gentlemen, brace yourselves for a rough landing.”
When the engine cut out, Pitbull’s heart slammed against his ribs and pulsed through his veins until Marly gave the warning to brace for landing. Then, as with all dangerous assignments, he drew into himself and focused on the mission.
In this case, it was to survive and get everyone out of what would surely be burning wreckage, if they were lucky enough to be alive upon landing.
“Move, damn you,” Marly muttered into the mic, her concentration on the zebras trotting across the field in front of the descending plane. “Move.”
The closer the plane grew to the herd, the faster they ran.
Pitbull leaned forward, his breath lodged in his throat, counting the seconds until they ran over the black-and-white-striped creatures. Just when he thought they’d hit one of the animals with the landing gear, the herd split, shooting out to each side of the aircraft and far enough away that the wings didn’t touch them.
The plane floated toward the earth, slowing, slowing, slowing...
A horn sounded.
“What’s that?” Pitbull demanded, searching