Zero Control. Lori Wilde

      ROXIE SPENT THE REMAINDER of the flight with her nose buried in her book, doing her best to ignore Dougal’s presence beside her.

      They landed at Gatwick Airport around six in the evening. The minute Roxie stepped onto British soil, a fresh surge of excitement pulsed through her. Even though she worked for an airline, she’d never traveled overseas. For one thing, she hadn’t wanted to be away from Stacy that long. For another there was the money issue. Although she got free flights, lodging, transfers and food didn’t come cheap. Every extra bit of cash she got she stashed aside for Stacy’s college tuition.

      While the group waited for their luggage to be unloaded, Roxie checked her watch and subtracted the time difference. Perfect timing to call. Back at home, her sister would be in between classes, headed for lunch.

      “So,” Stacy answered, “how’s London?”

      “Right now we’re at the airport. Looks pretty much like any other airport.”

      “Meet any cute guys yet?”

      “I just got off the plane.”

      “Planes have been known to harbor cute guys.”

      “Uh-huh,” Roxie said, distracted by the sight of Dougal bending over to help an older woman with a ginormous, red plaid, attack-of-the-tartans-style suitcase. The man’s butt looked absolutely ferocious in leather. Absentmindedly, Roxie traced the tip of her tongue over her lips.

      “Rox? You still there?”

      She blinked. “Um…yeah, sure still here.”

      “You didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. I thought I lost you.”

      Resolutely she turned her back on Dougal. “Nope, you didn’t lose me. I’m here. Rock solid.”

      “Rock-solid Roxie,” Stacy echoed. “So you never did answer my question. Meet any cute guys yet?”

      “I’m not here to meet guys, I—” Roxie broke off. She hadn’t told her sister the real reason she was in England. She’d let her believe she was taking a vacation. Guilt nibbled at her. “I’m here for adventure.”

      “Guys qualify as adventures.”

      Roxie made a dismissive noise.

      “Come on,” Stacy wheedled, “when was the last time you had a date?”

      “I went out with Jimmy last week.”

      “Listen to yourself. Jimmy is sixty-five, our second cousin, and he took you to play bingo just because he thought you needed to get out of the house. That is not a date.”

      “I shaved my legs for it.”

      “Doesn’t make it a date.”

      “You know I decided to put my dating life on hold since things with Marcus didn’t work out.”

      “Um…” Stacy made a disapproving sound. “I was a freshman in high school when you were going out with Marcus.”

      “Okay, so I haven’t had much of a love life lately, I—”

      “You’ve never had much of a love life,” her sister corrected. “I’ve dated more guys than you and I won’t turn nineteen for another three months.”

      “How’s school?” Roxie tried changing the subject.

      “Same as it was yesterday. You’ve only been gone for a day, Rox. Chill out. Have some fun. Find a guy. Get laid, for heaven’s sake.”

      “Stacy!”

      “Don’t act so scandalized. You’re young, you’re hot, and you deserve to have all kinds of adventures. I thought that was the reason you picked Eros. I mean, come on, why else would a single woman sign up for an erotic fantasy vacation if she wasn’t interested in indulging her erotic fantasies?”

      Why indeed? She couldn’t cop to being a corporate spy, so she was left with admitting that she was here for romance.

      “That’s why I was so happy when you told me you’d booked yourself on the Romance of Britannia tour. I thought, at last, Roxie is going to get some sex.”

      It felt weird having this conversation with her sister. In many ways they were more like mother and daughter than siblings. Not only was Roxie ten years her senior, she was also a lot more conservative in her outlook. Where Roxie treasured a quiet evening at home with a bowl of popcorn and a romantic comedy on DVD, her sister was the life of the party who collected friends the way some people collected shoes.

      “Let’s say I’m second-guessing my reasons for being here. I worry about you being home alone.” That was true enough.

      Stacy sighed.

      “What?” An airplane took off, the noise halting their conversation for a minute. “What is it?”

      “It’s time you stopped using me as an excuse for putting your life on hold. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Roxie, you know that, but I can’t keep being the thing that’s holding you back. I feel guilty and—”

      “Don’t ever feel guilty,” Roxie said fiercely. “Raising you has been the joy of my life.”

      “I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings, but you need a new joy in your life. I’m grown. I have my own friends, my own interests.”

      The stabbing sensation deep within her heart hit Roxie. She knew everything her sister said was true, and yet, she couldn’t let go of the identity she’d taken on when their parents had been killed. Empty-nest syndrome was a bitch.

      “I want you to make me a promise,” Stacy said.

      “What is it?”

      “You have to promise first.”

      “I can’t promise until I know what it is I’m promising to do.” Roxie hardened her chin. Around her everyone was picking up their luggage and heading toward the terminal, but she barely noticed.

      “Promise me if an opportunity for a vacation fling comes up, you’ll grab it with both hands.”

      “Stace…”

      “I mean it. Promise me.”

      “Okay, all right, on the off chance that an opportunity for mad monkey sex with a handsome stranger presents itself, I promise I’ll swing through the jungle.”

      Stacy laughed. “You don’t have to do anything that kinky, sis. Just relax and let yourself have a good time. Go with the flow. You deserve it. For ten years you’ve been the ultragood girl. It’s okay to be a little bit bad once in a while.”

      “How did you get so wise?”

      “I had a great teacher.”

      A soft, mushy sensation replaced the lost, lonely feeling in her heart. She was so proud of her baby sister. A hand settled on her shoulder. A firm, masculine hand.

      “Roxie.” Dougal’s voice was in her ear, her name on his tongue and his scent in her nostrils.

      “Who was that?” Stacy asked.

      “Huh?” She played dumb.

      “You’re the last one left,” Dougal said.

      Roxie looked over at him.

      He held her luggage in one hand, pointed at the tour bus waiting beyond the chain-link fence surrounding the terminal gate. “We have to go.”

      “It’s