Love on Landing
About The e-Book You Have Purchased:
Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device.
You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book.
This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the South African Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000."
Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Venus Cahill
Love on Landing© 2012 Heather Thurmeier
ISBN # 9781920501891
Attention Readers:
This book uses US English.
All rights reserved.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.
PUBLISHER
https://spsilverpublishing.com
Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.
Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.
If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected]
Thank you for not pirating our titles.
Lodewyk Deysel
Publisher
Silver Publishing
http://www.spsilverpublishing.com
Dedication
Dear friends, family and readers,
This story is about following your dreams. Thank you for your continued support so that I can follow my dream and share stories like this one with you.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Vespa
: Piaggio & C. S.p.A. Corporation Italy
Louis Vuitton
:
Louis Vuitton Malletier Corporation France
Dior
: Christian Dior Couture
Chanel
: Chanel, Inc.
Facebook
: TheFacebook, Inc.
Prada
: Prefel S.A. Corporation
Chapter One
Tali Radcliff leaned her head back against the headrest and gazed out the window. Raindrops splattered onto the double-paned glass blurring her view of the runway. Not that she could look past her sad, pathetic reflection anyway.
The reflection staring back at her turned the raindrops to tears on her cheeks and she instinctively wiped them away, only to find her cheeks sensitive and slightly swollen. She sighed and closed her eyes, desperately trying to block out the urge to start crying again. Instead, she focused on the white noise of the engines revving as the jet picked up speed for takeoff.
Her body was pushed harder into the back of the soft, cream-colored leather seat, her stomach falling as the wheels of the aircraft left the solid tarmac below. The jet crept higher and higher, increasing the distance between Tali and the life she would temporarily leave behind—the heartache she tried so hard to forget.
If only it were as easy as a little distance.
"Don't do it," she whispered. "You left your tears in your bedroom, where they belong."
A beauty queen never cries unless she's got a shiny new tiara on her head and a bouquet of fragrant flowers in her arms.
It was a good rule of thumb to remember, one she'd learned long ago and tried to stick to at all cost. Of course, sometimes she had to give in and cry, but not often. Tali wasn't a crier, she was far too feisty to give in to silly tears.
But sometimes tears came no matter how hard she fought against them. Like when her boyfriend Roger broke up with her for no good reason and was then spotted with Samantha two hours later. Yep. That was a good reason to cry.
Roger can suck it.
Tali opened her eyes when the aircraft leveled out as it reached its cruising altitude and grabbed her bag, dragging it onto the seat next to her. The shiny silver clasps clinked together on the seat as she pulled out her laptop. She flipped it open and signed on to her private in-flight Wi-Fi service.
She clicked on the Facebook icon on her home screen and scrolled through her news feed. Halfway down the page, her gaze froze and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. No frickin' way.
Roger Wilcox is engaged to Samantha Swanson.
"I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill him." She slammed the laptop closed again and tossed it back into the bag.
How could he? How could he already be engaged to Samantha—Samantha Swanson of all people!—when he'd only broken up with Tali a couple of days ago? How does anyone fall in love so fast?
Little two-timing jackoff. He had to have been cheating on me. That's how.
That had to be it. There could be no other reason for two people to get engaged when one of them had "loved" someone else a mere forty-eight hours earlier.
She'd only known one couple to fall in love that fast—Chase and Julia. They'd met at a club one night then Julia had become his new employee by accident a few days later. They'd fallen in love practically overnight. Tali had been so happy for them, and she'd hoped to find love herself. Then Roger came along and she thought he was the one.
Tali didn't believe in fairytale love anymore. Love didn't happen in only a few days. She wasn't even sure she believed in a love of any kind after all this crap she'd recently been through with Roger.
She fixed her tailored cotton blouse, pulling the edges of the material taut and smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. Well good for them. They were perfect for each other. Roger was a cocky asshole and Samantha would make a perfect accessory at the Yacht club.
Tali never did like sailing anyway. All those waves usually made her feel queasy and when she mixed the waves with champagne cocktails, each day at sea became a disaster waiting to happen. Leaning over the railing of a ship, puking wasn't her most favorite position to be in with a man. Nope. Puke was no one's friend.
So this was good. She was good. They were good. Everything's great.
Tali's chin threatened to quiver, but she clenched her jaw. She would not cry over Roger again. Period. End of story. Moving on.
Speaking of moving, they'd only been in the air for a little while but her body already ached like it had been immobile for hours. She needed to clear her head, and since she couldn't, she would stretch her legs instead. She inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves and squashing her feelings back down where they belonged.
There weren't many options of where to walk on the small private jet. She wandered to the back galley to talk to Sara the flight attendant, but she wasn't there. The little window above the handle on the lavatory door was red.
Probably reading a book in there.
She could've kicked herself for forgetting her novel. She'd been in such a hurry to pack her things and get to her flight she'd left her half-read book on her bedside table. She still had a couple of magazines tucked into her bag from her last trip to the beach, but she tired quickly of the glossy photos on every page illustrating a very small amount of text. Trashy tabloid magazines never held her attention for long.
Tali groaned and wandered back through the plane to the front of the aircraft. If Sara didn't want to talk to her, at least Edgar would.
Edgar had been her family's personal pilot for years and he always welcomed her into the cockpit for a visit during these long, boring, transatlantic flights. She had no idea how old he was, at least her father's age, but he was kind and always listened to her stories. Exactly what she needed right now—someone to listen to her, to tell her Roger was an idiot and she would be fine.
Tali rapped on the closed cockpit door before pulling it open and stepping inside. "How's it going in here, Edgar?" She grabbed his arm, squeezing gently.
He must be working out more.
His biceps seemed larger and firmer than she expected them to.
Lucky Mrs Edgar.
"I'm not Edgar." The pilot turned, eying her up and down. "What are you doing in my cockpit?"
Tali's mouth dropped open as she quickly took her hand back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The man staring at her with intense brown eyes was not Edgar.
Oh no. Edgar was old. This man was not old. He was her age. And hot. No, make that gorgeous.