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Authors: Alexandra Marell
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the spare seat, the condoms in her pocket. He
needed the sleep more. And she needed to clean herself up.
In the cramped bathroom she stared at the reflection
in the tiny mirror with some trepidation, wondering who she'd see.
Not the same woman who'd boarded the plane earlier today. That
person had survived a plane crash and met one of the most amazing
men she'd ever know. She had condoms in her pocket because she
wanted him again and wasn't afraid to ask. That had to change
her.
A surprise to discover she still looked like Danielle
Radley. A bit strange in the flashlight's glow, hair lank and
greasy, dark circles under the eyes, but she was still there. Maybe
the changes were on the inside? Something she'd notice when the
rescue came and returned her to civilisation?
Rescue? That thought gave her goosebumps. Being here
with Taylor already felt more normal than her real life, and the
thought of going back strange and slightly alarming.
And, hell, she looked tired. Even worse when she
wiped away the last traces of her make-up. Time to go snuggle up
with Taylor and make the most of him while she could. The rescue
might come early in the morning, and that would be the end of
this.
No, don't start crying again . He hadn't wanted
her to cry, she could tell.
She found the change of underwear in her carry-on,
suddenly worried they might unexpectedly be rescued in the night
and she ought not to be found like this. The thought made her
smile. Then a more sobering thought popped into her mind. The
authorities must know there was a wanted man, a killer, on board
the plane. They would be anxious to know if he'd died in the crash,
and worried about the safety of any surviving passengers if he was
alive. Taylor needed to get away, and soon. First thing in the
morning, he should go. Couldn't afford to hang around for the
rescue. He should get as far away as possible.
She slipped into the seat and leaned against him,
careful of his broken arm. Listening to the steady beat of his
heart, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, she decided to stay
awake and keep vigil. That's what he'd wanted before she'd scuttled
off for the painkillers. She refused to sleep this precious time
away.
If this was her only night with him, she would
appreciate every last moment.
* * * *
Taylor stretched out his legs as best he could and
squinted at the luminous dial of his watch. Twelve-thirty a.m.
Stiff and still in pain, he didn't feel as if he'd slept at all.
Adjusting himself so as not to wake Danielle, he yawned and
wondered what she'd stowed the now-long-overdue painkillers
"Hey." She was awake, whispering to him in the
darkness.
"Hey, reckon I need those painkillers about now. Did
you find some?"
"Yes, they're here." Her warm body moved away and
then he saw her face in the glow of the flashlight. "Hold out your
hand."
He took the tablets and downed two of them, hoping
they'd get to work fast.
"How are you feeling, Taylor?"
"Like shit. You?"
"Good, considering. Couldn't sleep." She settled
herself against him and he lifted his arm around her, drawing her
close. "Didn't want to after..."
"No?" He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.
"Did I thank you for that?"
"You don't have to thank me, Taylor, it was
wonderful."
"Oh, I do, sweetheart. Sorry about earlier. Went out
like a light. Had big plans for tonight, too. " He gave a small
laugh. "Didn't want to waste it sleeping."
"Me neither, but you needed it. That arm won't heal
if you don't rest."
"It's no big deal." He sighed, remembering. "Becomes
part of you after a while, you know, the pain. You get used to
it."
"What happened to you?"
Her hand drifted over his side, just short of
tickling him. He managed to keep still with a little effort. Being
so ticklish – not very macho.
"How did you get to be handcuffed to a seat on a
plane?"
How did he answer that one? Danielle continued
stroking him while he worked out which version of this sordid tale
to tell her. Too much
needed the sleep more. And she needed to clean herself up.
In the cramped bathroom she stared at the reflection
in the tiny mirror with some trepidation, wondering who she'd see.
Not the same woman who'd boarded the plane earlier today. That
person had survived a plane crash and met one of the most amazing
men she'd ever know. She had condoms in her pocket because she
wanted him again and wasn't afraid to ask. That had to change
her.
A surprise to discover she still looked like Danielle
Radley. A bit strange in the flashlight's glow, hair lank and
greasy, dark circles under the eyes, but she was still there. Maybe
the changes were on the inside? Something she'd notice when the
rescue came and returned her to civilisation?
Rescue? That thought gave her goosebumps. Being here
with Taylor already felt more normal than her real life, and the
thought of going back strange and slightly alarming.
And, hell, she looked tired. Even worse when she
wiped away the last traces of her make-up. Time to go snuggle up
with Taylor and make the most of him while she could. The rescue
might come early in the morning, and that would be the end of
this.
No, don't start crying again . He hadn't wanted
her to cry, she could tell.
She found the change of underwear in her carry-on,
suddenly worried they might unexpectedly be rescued in the night
and she ought not to be found like this. The thought made her
smile. Then a more sobering thought popped into her mind. The
authorities must know there was a wanted man, a killer, on board
the plane. They would be anxious to know if he'd died in the crash,
and worried about the safety of any surviving passengers if he was
alive. Taylor needed to get away, and soon. First thing in the
morning, he should go. Couldn't afford to hang around for the
rescue. He should get as far away as possible.
She slipped into the seat and leaned against him,
careful of his broken arm. Listening to the steady beat of his
heart, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, she decided to stay
awake and keep vigil. That's what he'd wanted before she'd scuttled
off for the painkillers. She refused to sleep this precious time
away.
If this was her only night with him, she would
appreciate every last moment.
* * * *
Taylor stretched out his legs as best he could and
squinted at the luminous dial of his watch. Twelve-thirty a.m.
Stiff and still in pain, he didn't feel as if he'd slept at all.
Adjusting himself so as not to wake Danielle, he yawned and
wondered what she'd stowed the now-long-overdue painkillers
"Hey." She was awake, whispering to him in the
darkness.
"Hey, reckon I need those painkillers about now. Did
you find some?"
"Yes, they're here." Her warm body moved away and
then he saw her face in the glow of the flashlight. "Hold out your
hand."
He took the tablets and downed two of them, hoping
they'd get to work fast.
"How are you feeling, Taylor?"
"Like shit. You?"
"Good, considering. Couldn't sleep." She settled
herself against him and he lifted his arm around her, drawing her
close. "Didn't want to after..."
"No?" He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.
"Did I thank you for that?"
"You don't have to thank me, Taylor, it was
wonderful."
"Oh, I do, sweetheart. Sorry about earlier. Went out
like a light. Had big plans for tonight, too. " He gave a small
laugh. "Didn't want to waste it sleeping."
"Me neither, but you needed it. That arm won't heal
if you don't rest."
"It's no big deal." He sighed, remembering. "Becomes
part of you after a while, you know, the pain. You get used to
it."
"What happened to you?"
Her hand drifted over his side, just short of
tickling him. He managed to keep still with a little effort. Being
so ticklish – not very macho.
"How did you get to be handcuffed to a seat on a
plane?"
How did he answer that one? Danielle continued
stroking him while he worked out which version of this sordid tale
to tell her. Too much
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