Instinctively I wrap my arm around her waist to steady her but the action only brings her closer to me. The smell of scented lotion and woman invades my lungs. I close my eyes and take a deep breath so that I can imprint her in my mind.
There’s the plush feel of her tits against my hard chest. Her small hands grip my forearms, and one of her legs has settled between my thighs. Shit? a little adjustment and I could be rubbing my increasingly hard cock against her cloth-covered *.
But there’s no time for that. I use the jostling of the body of the plane to cover up the switch. With my arms around her middle, I quickly push her purse under a seat and then hand her the dummy.
She doesn’t notice the switch. Her eyes widen, taking in my face, visible beneath the low brim of my cap. The swift intake of breath is surprise and recognition. “Are you that guy? The one they’re afraid of?”
“Shhh.” I place a finger over my lips and tip my head toward Afonso. She snaps her mouth shut but her eyes are pleading with me to help her. “Who is with you?” I jerk my head toward the front.
Her eyes fill with tears. “His name is Afonso. Are you from the U.S. government? Who sent you?”
The plane makes another bounce and I take advantage of the moment to reposition us. Her hand goes to my chest.
I shake my head. “Do you have the package with you?”
Disappointment sets in. “Go to hell,” she spits. She struggles in my grasp and I let her go.
“Filha, come here,” Afonso orders. His daughter? My ass.
“Be strong,” I murmur and release her, shoving her hard down the tiny aisle. I shut out her stricken face and get the purse—the correct one—out from under the seats and then slam the lav door closed. Whatever hope she had that I am here to save her is now dead. I have my orders. Steal the information, intercept the buy, free my man.
Nowhere in the plan did it allow for rescuing a sinfully soft body and a pair of gorgeous mismatched eyes. I don’t look at the mirror, because I can’t face myself right now. I place the stolen purse on the toilet lid and unzip it. Inside are the folders, complete with tabs and sticky notes. I pull those out and take snapshots of each. I dig through the cosmetics and the useless key ring, then shove the folders back inside. Fuck.
The information isn’t here. It’s somewhere else. The only thing the buyers are getting is a bunch of paperwork. I should have known that Fouquet would set up a two-part sale. By selling the information in parts, the buyers are kept from taking the information and running without payment. But that complicates my plans by a hell of a lot.
I pull a small black nylon bag from my back pocket and wrap it around the purse to disguise it, and then exit the lav. The plane is bouncing like a carnival ride. The two men in the back are breathing into puke bags.
Over the top of the seats, only Ava’s head is visible. Afonso is missing, probably using the forward lav. I settle into a seat two back from Ava. She doesn’t turn around but the plane is noisy. Or maybe she hates me now and wishes the bottom of the plane would open up and the sky would suck me out.
I shove the stolen purse under my seat and reach for the in-flight magazine. Outside the sky is nearly pitch black despite it being early afternoon. The wings are lit up, in part from the onboard lighting and in part from the lightning.
Ava’s head bobs and weaves and then dips forward. She must be getting sick. Afonso staggers out of the lav and drops into one of the front seats, away from Ava but close to the bathroom.
The plane feels as sturdy as a tin can held together by twine. The seat belt light is blinking furiously. Overhead the speakers turn on and a strained pilot reports the obvious.
“This is the captain speaking. We are experiencing some unexpected turbulence. Please stay in your seats with your seat belts fastened until further notice.”
If I lean out of my seat, I can see Ava white-knuckling the armrest. If I thought for a second that she’d welcome my comfort, I’d crawl up to her row and hold her hand or finger or toe or whatever body part she’d allow me to touch.
Lightning flashes again and the plane rumbles with the thunder, the vibrations shaking the fuselage. Another flash, and an even louder clap of noise echoes through the body of the plane. The men in the back start yelling in panic.
“Oh my God! The wing is on fire!” Ava screams. She points and even Afonso notices. Across the small aisle we watch in horror as the engine explodes and the wing shears away. The plane tips violently to the left. Overhead, the luggage racks open and the oxygen masks drop out. The stupid purse rolls my way. Ava yelps and reaches down to grab it, unbuckling her belt.
The fucking plane is falling out of the sky and she’s worried about the goddamned purse. Worse, it’s the fake one that I traded out. She’s not risking her life for that. I grab the stolen bag and rip the nylon cover off of it.
“Ava, climb into a seat and buckle in. Got me?” I yell at her.