possible. It will actually land itself."
For the moment, JoNell became so embroiled in her instructions that Del Toro became simply another student.
"When the wheels touch the ground, be prepared to put your feet up on the brakes and pump gently back and forth. You must keep the plane rolling in a straight line. You have to stop it, but slowly."
She felt the rumble of the landing gear. "Perfect!" she cried enthusiastically as the wheels stopped rolling and the plane came to a stop. "You're really learning fast. I'm so proud of you. You followed through like a pro."
Del Toro was again patting his forehead with his handkerchief. His hand was trembling slightly. He gave her a weak smile.
"You seem very nervous—more than most students. Do you still distrust my flying ability in spite of what you said?"
He shook his head. "I meant what I said. You have proven to me that you are extremely competent, seňorita. You must pay no attention to my nervousness. It has to do with something that happened a long time ago—something I must deal with privately. It has nothing to do with you."
He really was a most confusing man. During the takeoff, he had been extremely tense, saying nothing. Once they were in the air, he had relaxed to the point that he was handing her his flowery line. But during the landing, he had become quite nervous again.
He was less of a threat to her when he was under this strain. She felt herself momentarily put aside her distrust and antagonism. In its place was concern for an overly anxious student. "I wonder why you wish to learn to fly if it makes you uncomfortable?"
He was regaining his healthy, bronze color. He shrugged. "It is nothing. It will soon pass. You see—you are doing wonders for my morale."
"I hope so. I mean, I hope the tenseness will pass. To be a good pilot, you must be relaxed."
She felt the stunning impact of his fiery gaze searching her eyes. "I am very relaxed when I am with you, JoNell," he said softly.
Her short-lived concern for him dissolved. The gates of her defense line slammed shut. "What is it you wished to show me?" she asked coldly.
"I will show you. Come, let's stretch our legs." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.
JoNell did the same. Her white sneakers hit the hard packed sand. She stretched, rubbed the back of her neck, then met Del Toro near the tail of the plane.
"Well?" she asked. "Where is it?"
He towered above her. She forgot, when they were in the plane, how tall and powerfully built he was. The muscles of his broad shoulders strained at the plaid jacket he was wearing today. She felt like a Lilliputian beside him.
He was gazing at her with green eyes that smoldered with dark concentration.
"I said where is it?"
"What?"
"What you wanted to show me," she said impatiently.
"Oh, right here," Del Toro said with an expansive sweep of his broad hand. He placed his fingers on her slim shoulders, gently turned her to look around at the beach, then to face him again.
She was frowning suspiciously. "I don't know what you mean."
"In front of you!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see it? A long, golden beach. And in the center of it, what? A man!"
"Is that what you wanted to show me!" she gasped. "
You
? Is that why we landed the plane?"
"But of course," Del Toro laughed, his white teeth flashing. "You have not seen the real me since you've been here. I decided it was time you took a good look. I may not be so bad as you seem to think. To begin with, am I so unpleasant to look at?"
"Well, no," JoNell confessed. In fact, Del Toro was the most handsome man she had ever seen, though she would cut off her tongue before admitting to him that she thought so.
"Are my manners repugnant?"
"Of course not," she snapped impatiently.
"Then what is it about me that you find so distasteful?" he demanded.
Distasteful? On the contrary, JoNell found Del Toro almost irresistibly attractive—on the surface. His black hair contrasting with his fiery deep green eyes and
For the moment, JoNell became so embroiled in her instructions that Del Toro became simply another student.
"When the wheels touch the ground, be prepared to put your feet up on the brakes and pump gently back and forth. You must keep the plane rolling in a straight line. You have to stop it, but slowly."
She felt the rumble of the landing gear. "Perfect!" she cried enthusiastically as the wheels stopped rolling and the plane came to a stop. "You're really learning fast. I'm so proud of you. You followed through like a pro."
Del Toro was again patting his forehead with his handkerchief. His hand was trembling slightly. He gave her a weak smile.
"You seem very nervous—more than most students. Do you still distrust my flying ability in spite of what you said?"
He shook his head. "I meant what I said. You have proven to me that you are extremely competent, seňorita. You must pay no attention to my nervousness. It has to do with something that happened a long time ago—something I must deal with privately. It has nothing to do with you."
He really was a most confusing man. During the takeoff, he had been extremely tense, saying nothing. Once they were in the air, he had relaxed to the point that he was handing her his flowery line. But during the landing, he had become quite nervous again.
He was less of a threat to her when he was under this strain. She felt herself momentarily put aside her distrust and antagonism. In its place was concern for an overly anxious student. "I wonder why you wish to learn to fly if it makes you uncomfortable?"
He was regaining his healthy, bronze color. He shrugged. "It is nothing. It will soon pass. You see—you are doing wonders for my morale."
"I hope so. I mean, I hope the tenseness will pass. To be a good pilot, you must be relaxed."
She felt the stunning impact of his fiery gaze searching her eyes. "I am very relaxed when I am with you, JoNell," he said softly.
Her short-lived concern for him dissolved. The gates of her defense line slammed shut. "What is it you wished to show me?" she asked coldly.
"I will show you. Come, let's stretch our legs." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.
JoNell did the same. Her white sneakers hit the hard packed sand. She stretched, rubbed the back of her neck, then met Del Toro near the tail of the plane.
"Well?" she asked. "Where is it?"
He towered above her. She forgot, when they were in the plane, how tall and powerfully built he was. The muscles of his broad shoulders strained at the plaid jacket he was wearing today. She felt like a Lilliputian beside him.
He was gazing at her with green eyes that smoldered with dark concentration.
"I said where is it?"
"What?"
"What you wanted to show me," she said impatiently.
"Oh, right here," Del Toro said with an expansive sweep of his broad hand. He placed his fingers on her slim shoulders, gently turned her to look around at the beach, then to face him again.
She was frowning suspiciously. "I don't know what you mean."
"In front of you!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see it? A long, golden beach. And in the center of it, what? A man!"
"Is that what you wanted to show me!" she gasped. "
You
? Is that why we landed the plane?"
"But of course," Del Toro laughed, his white teeth flashing. "You have not seen the real me since you've been here. I decided it was time you took a good look. I may not be so bad as you seem to think. To begin with, am I so unpleasant to look at?"
"Well, no," JoNell confessed. In fact, Del Toro was the most handsome man she had ever seen, though she would cut off her tongue before admitting to him that she thought so.
"Are my manners repugnant?"
"Of course not," she snapped impatiently.
"Then what is it about me that you find so distasteful?" he demanded.
Distasteful? On the contrary, JoNell found Del Toro almost irresistibly attractive—on the surface. His black hair contrasting with his fiery deep green eyes and
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