Angel in Armani (11 page)

Florida? She hadn’t expected that. “What’s in Florida?”

“Spring training,” he said. “February to April, the teams go to states where it’s warm and not snowing and we try out players and start getting ready for the season. Play games, shuffle things around, get everyone fit again. Half the teams go to Arizona and half to Florida.”

Florida. Sunshine. Warmth. Oranges. Disney World. Alligators. That was about all she knew about the state. She’d never been there. She looked past Lucas at the gray sky outside. It had rained earlier and snowed last night so there was nothing but freezing gray slush on the ground. That made sunshine and warmth seem pretty tempting. As did the man standing before her. “And the Saints go to Florida.”

“Yes.”

“And why do you have to go?”

“Like I said, we’re trying out new players. The guys I bought the team with—well, Alex is good with money and Mal is more the security guy. Because I’m the doctor, I get to deal with the players.”

“You pick the players?”

He half shrugged and shook his head. “That’s mostly up to the coaching team. But if they’re not sure they’ll ask me my opinion. And it’s good for me to know what the players can do and work with the coaches on how they’re being trained. After all, I’d rather that none of them end up in my operating room.”

“Baseball players get injured?” She asked the question and then realized what a dumb thing it was to ask. Her mental image of baseball involved a lot of guys standing around a field not doing much that was dangerous, but that wasn’t the reality. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“Lots of minor scrapes and bruises and sprains,” Lucas said. “Playing so many games in a season is hard on their bodies. But in terms of serious injuries, well, shoulders and arms mostly. Pitchers get those. And batters. And then of course people fall when they’re running bases or fielding, et cetera, and screw up knees and legs.”

“Well, your team will be lucky, you can fix them.”

“That’s the plan. But it doesn’t always work. An injury can end a career.” He hitched his shoulder again—the right one—and grimaced.

Thinking about athletes he hadn’t been able to fix or something else? “So you’re down there supervising. How does that work with you being a surgeon up here?”

“It means I don’t get a lot of sleep and I’m going to clock up a lot of frequent flier miles over the next few months. All year, really. I want to see as many games as I can, though my partners can share that load during the actual season. Florida isn’t so bad. It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour flight to Orlando. And it’s the same time zone as New York. So no jet lag. But I’m currently commuting between New York and Florida at least twice a week.”

“That’s a lot of travel.”

“Yes, and I’m looking to cut down on the time it eats up. And Alex and Mal—those are my partners—need some transportation, too.”

“So you want a full-time pilot?” It was nearly the perfect solution to her problems. Of course, it was only nearly perfect because she’d had sex with Lucas. And just looking at him had certain parts of her voting to do that again. Which absolutely could not happen. Because he was offering her a job.

“Yes.”

She gestured at the office around her. “I kind of have this.”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but your helicopter is out of commission, so I imagine this”—he echoed her gesture—“is just costing you money at this point.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is. I’m offering you work.” He looked around the office, and Sara suddenly saw it through his eyes. She did her best to keep things tidy, neatness having been drilled into her by first her mother and then her army training, but there was no hiding the fact that it had been a while since they’d painted the walls or gotten new carpet.

Her dad’s desk, where she currently sat, had been a flea market find of her grandfather’s. It had sentimental value but had been ugly to start with, and forty years of use hadn’t improved things.

Lucas finished his inspection and then his gaze returned to Sara. All that blue, focused on her. Just like it had been back in that damned motel room.

And even though he was only here to offer a job, even though she knew that she was not the sort of woman that men like Lucas sought out for other reasons, there was something deep in that blue gaze and the way he watched her that made her want to do something very stupid.

Like ask him to kiss her again.

Which would be crazy because he was only here to offer her a job. But the fact she was imagining something more meant she really should say no. Saying yes because she couldn’t think straight when he was around would be an invitation to disaster. After Evan, she’d decided she’d wanted her next relationship to be based on off-the-charts chemistry.

Which was how she’d ended up dating Kane in the army. And that hadn’t exactly worked out well, either. So now she really needed to keep her hormones in check and make the smart decision. “I’m not—”

“Look, the busiest time for me is the next few months.” He came a little closer, near the edge of her desk. His scent drifted across the desk, and she fought the urge to close her eyes and breathe deeper. Instead she rolled her chair back a little.

Lucas smiled.

One quick smile. One quick knowing bloody smile that meant he knew she was unnerved by him. That he liked it.

And what did that mean?

“A few months?” she managed.

“Just until the season starts in April. It’s not that long and it will give you a chance to get your chopper fixed. Then we can reevaluate.”

It sounded too good to be true. In her experience, too good to be true usually was. Which was another indication that she needed to be very careful about the decision she made. Because he would become not just a client but her only client. Her boss, really. “My insurance could come through any day now. So you’re asking me to potentially give up several months’ profit.”

He shrugged. “Yes. We’ll compensate you for that once your chopper is fixed. Alex came up with an offer.”

“Oh really?” She wondered exactly how much he thought Charles Air made. “Does Alex know much about running a helicopter charter?”

“No, but he knows about running a multibillion-dollar corporation that has a company fleet. Ice Incorporated? Perhaps you’ve heard of them.”

“Wait, your business partner is Alex Winters?” Sara said. Maybe she should have read all of the articles she’d found about Lucas and the Saints, not just the bits about him. Ice was one of those gigantic companies that did a bit of everything. Including some aeronautical research she’d read about. Alternative fuel sources for planes and helos as well as design.

“Yes. And he said to offer you this.” Lucas pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and passed it to her.

Sara took it gingerly. What if the offer was terrible? Then she’d have to say no and go work for Ron Harris. On the other hand, if it was good, then she’d be working for Lucas. Lucas who’d seen her naked.

Lucas whose naked body had made her wake from dreams of it hot and wanting too many times since that night in the Hamptons.

She wasn’t entirely sure which was the more terrifying option.

“Are you going to open that?”

No point putting it off. She flipped open the envelope and pulled out the paper inside then unfolded it. When she read the figure typed there, she had to sit down for a moment.

“Sara?”

“I always wondered what an offer you couldn’t refuse looked like,” she said faintly. She read the letter again. The figure didn’t change. And it was more than she was likely to clear in three months of running with one helo.

She didn’t know whether to be gleeful or horrified. She scanned the letter a third time. Then actually took in what the words surrounding the salary figure said. “What’s this part about Florida?”

Lucas leaned back. “I don’t want to bother with two pilots. So when I go to Florida, you’ll come with me and ferry me between Orlando and Vero Beach. That’s where our spring training facility is.”

“I’m assuming you don’t do day trips?”

“Not usually, why?”

“I have a dog.” She glanced down to where Dougal would normally be lying near the desk. She’d left him at her parents’ house earlier, wanting to focus on her pile of paperwork. Just as well. He’d be going ballistic with Lucas here.

“Do you have someone who can mind him?”

“Yes?” Her parents wouldn’t mind having him a few nights a week. If it was only for a few months. But she didn’t have someone who would mind her. Overnight trips with Lucas Angelo. Hotel rooms that were near hotel rooms that Lucas Angelo might be occupying. Her heart started pounding again. She and Lucas and hotel rooms were a dangerous combination.

“So the dog isn’t a problem then. So what do you say? I have to be in Orlando tomorrow night, so I need a pilot.”

Were his eyes suddenly a more vivid blue? She wondered if he was thinking about hotel rooms as well. Then told herself not to be stupid. After all, the last time they’d shared a room, she’d snuck out before dawn and stranded him.

Yet here he is
, another part of her brain pointed out.
Come back to find you. To hire you again
.

He wants you. He said so
.

As a pilot.

But looking into those very blue eyes, she wasn’t at all sure that was all it was.

She really should say no. It was the sane option. Not financially but from a Sara-doesn’t-get-her-heart-stomped-on-by-the-rich-guy perspective, it was definitely the sane option.

“Do you care if I don’t know anything about baseball?”

Lucas tugged at his tie, looking amused. “Define
don’t know anything
?”

She could lie to him or she could tell the truth. The truth seemed easier. If any of them was going to be offended that she didn’t find hitting a ball around a field fascinating then there was really no point taking the job. “Never been to a professional game. Avoided as many high school games as I could. Couldn’t tell a Yankee from a Met.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Sorry. Never paid much attention to it.”

“You grew up on Staten Island and you’re not a Saints fan?”

“My dad likes football. And baseball season is more a summer thing. I spent my summers flying.”

He shook his head. “Weird. But no, that doesn’t matter. I’m hiring a pilot, not a fan.”

Well, there went another potential reason to say no. She looked back down at the paper. Looked at the figure one last time. Thought about her dad and bills and what it might do to him if Charles Air went under.

“If I need help with the insurance company, will the Saints do that?”

“Sure.”

The response was so fast she knew he meant it. Damn. She folded the paper up and slipped it back into the envelope. Then she looked back at Lucas and knew that she was about to throw sanity to the wind. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll take the job.”

Chapter Eight

It was just the unfamiliar helo. That was the reason for her nerves, Sara told herself as she went over her preflight while she waited for Lucas to arrive the next afternoon. She’d spent an hour or so flying the helicopter with the pilot who’d delivered it to the airfield earlier and then she’d flown it the short hop to Deacon Field—home of the Saints—without him. It had felt good.

It wasn’t an A-Star but she’d gotten the hang of it easily enough. What she hadn’t gotten the hang of was the fact that she was now working for the Saints. Working for Lucas. And his partners, though she hadn’t yet met Alex or Mal. She’d met Gardner Rothman, apparently Alex Winters’s right-hand man, first thing in the morning at Deacon, and he’d walked her through the contract.

And then informed her that the helicopter would be arriving that afternoon and Lucas was going back to Florida that evening. Aka¸ she was going to Florida that evening. Where another helicopter would be waiting for them so she could fly him to Vero Beach.

She’d spent a frantic half hour at her apartment packing and then spent the rest of the time cramming a flight plan for the Florida leg and familiarizing herself with the new helo.

So it was perfectly normal that she had more than the usual level of pre-takeoff anticipation zinging through her veins.

Nothing to do with Lucas Angelo at all. No sirree. Not one little bit.

It sounded good in theory. Pity she didn’t believe it in the slightest.

Lucas was going to be in her helicopter. Close to her. Sitting there all big and gorgeous and—no, she had to shut down that thinking. There was no room for big and gorgeous. She’d screwed things up enough already getting tangled up in Lucas Angelo; now it was time to woman up and treat him like the customer—no,
employer
—he was.

Hands off. Eyes off. Mind off. Nothing to do—or think about—but take off, fly, then repeat in Florida to deposit him safely at their destination.

Easy. Nothing she hadn’t done hundreds or thousands of times before. She wasn’t going to screw this up. If she did, Charles Air would probably be dead in the water.

She wasn’t going to let that happen. So. Hormones were to be reined in, Lucas Angelo was to be ignored as far as possible without being actively rude, and everything would be fine.

She wasn’t going to think about the fact that her luck had turned in her life into something pretty far from fine lately.

But as she stared up at the stadium—they’d wanted to see if the parking lot was a good temporary helipad—she wasn’t so sure.

So much space. The stadium, with its tower and the field, suddenly felt enormous. What would it be like to own something like this?

Hell, she’d settle for owning something a fraction of the size. Like a working helo.

But before she could disappear down that particular rabbit hole again, she saw Lucas emerge from one of the gates in the side of the vast concrete structure. He wore a suit as usual and carried a garment bag and a carry-on.

Nerves buzzed. “Just a job,” she said and climbed out of the helo so she could wait for him.

As soon as her foot hit the tarmac she almost turned around and climbed back in. After all, she’d never waited for him like this before; always let him be shown to the chopper by the reception staff. He knew the drill of how to buckle himself in and stow his luggage.