High Octane

A slow smile filled Ryan’s too-handsome face. “I’ll be easy with you, darlin’. I promise.”

He promises. Said the cat to the mouse, she thought cynically, but that didn’t stop her imagination from conjuring an image of her strapped to a parachute, with his front attached to her…er…backside. Oh, yeah, he was dangerous. In all kinds of ways.

“No, Ryan,” Jennifer said urgently, and shifted her attention to Sabrina. “Caleb is calm and controlled. He’ll be a pillar if you get scared.”

“I’m calm and controlled,” Ryan said.

Jennifer took a long glance at Ryan. “There is a reason you take up the experienced jumpers, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Because I teach them that calm control doesn’t have to be boring. I push them to the edge rather than pull them back. I show them how to expand their limits.”

The words resonated through Sabrina and spoke to her deep beneath the surface. She already knew how to be calm and controlled. She’d spent a lifetime living just that. What she didn’t know how to do was be calm, controlled and daring at the same time. To live outside her safety zone. Ryan was more than the man she wanted. Ryan was the man she needed. “I’ll jump with Ryan.”

Jennifer started to object. “Sabrina—”

Sabrina gently touched her arm. “It’s okay,” she said in a low voice. “Really. I’m here, and honestly, if I leave, I may never do this. And it’s a good idea. It’s a good thing.”

“You’re sure?”

“Am I sure about jumping out of a plane?” Sabrina asked incredulously. “Of course not. But I can’t go through hours of convincing myself to go through with this again. Now or never.”

Jennifer looked as if she might argue and then grabbed Sabrina’s hand. “This way.”

Jennifer then tugged Sabrina toward the interior of the office. In her path stood Ryan, whom she passed with mere inches separating them. Ryan, who looked hotter and harder, upon closer inspection. And inspect she did, she lingered on his long, muscular thighs poured into tight denim that would no doubt be hugging her thighs in the very near future. Her mouth watered, and she jerked her attention upward, her gaze colliding with the only soft thing about Ryan—his brown eyes—the sizzle between them impossible to miss. She was, indeed, in for a wild ride, and amazingly, though she was scared, Sabrina realized something she couldn’t ignore. She was excited. She felt alive for the first time in years. She was doing something she’d never have dreamed of doing a few months ago. She was changing her life, but also pushing herself to experience the world.

Unfortunately, the path to experiencing that world led—at least for the moment—away from Ryan and into what looked like a classroom. Sabrina soon found herself sitting at one of six steel folding tables, signing liability paperwork. Lots of it. Suddenly, she forgot long, hard Ryan and thought of the long, hard fall she might take if her chute didn’t open.

“Okay,” Jennifer said, sitting next to her. “Last signature.” She pointed to the release form. “Sign here.” But then she pulled the paper away. “Or don’t. You can still change your mind.”

Sabrina grabbed the paper and signed. “You are so not helping, Jennifer. Have you forgotten this was your idea?”

“It was my idea to send you up with Caleb,” she said. “Not Ryan. Yes, he’s part owner, yes, but that’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Jennifer let out a sigh and shifted in the steel chair. “I pushed you into this. I don’t want you to have a bad experience. I want you to feel it was fun, and that it really did help you with the whole control-freak thing. And Caleb…he’s sensitive, patient. He’ll know if you’ve reached your limits. He’ll know to pull you back. Ryan doesn’t know limits. He’ll push you. Especially if he knows why you’re doing this.”

“I can handle Ryan,” Sabrina said. “And, truth be told, I have my reasons for choosing him.”

“Jenn,” came the deep, silky male voice, “call for you.”

Sabrina’s gaze lifted to directly across from them where Ryan filled the doorway with all kinds of hot male goodness, his hat tipped back, his sultry bedroom eyes fixed on her.

“Good luck, honey,” Jennifer said. “You want him, he’s all yours.” Ryan sauntered into the room, his dusty boots some how only adding to his appeal as he gave Jennifer space to pass. Only she didn’t pass. She paused. “Behave.”

“Like a perfect angel,” he assured her.

Jennifer snorted and disappeared.

Ryan leaned on the table directly in front of Sabrina. “Any hope one of those reasons for choosing me is my hot body?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Sabrina knew how to talk the talk. She was a politician’s daughter, after all. “Actually, yes,” she answered. “If you were out of shape and wheezing with every breath you drew, I can’t say I’d be eager to jump out of a plane with you.”

“I got the impression you weren’t so eager to jump out of a plane with anyone.”

“I’m sure a lot of people feel that way right about the time they sign their paperwork,” Sabrina said.

“Only the ones who’re talked into coming by some one else,” he bantered. “But those people don’t normally come alone. They come with a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a pal. That ‘someone’ they are trying to please by pushing themselves. Who are you here to please, Sabrina?”

Her chin lifted, fingers lacing together in front of her, as they rested on top of the forms. “Myself.” For the first time in a very long time, she added silently.

His eyes narrowed. “By pushing yourself to do something that scares you?”

“More like something I wouldn’t normally do,” she countered, not giving him more than she had to. This was her private journey. He didn’t need to understand it to be a part of it.

“I need more than that if I’m taking you up,” he said, rejecting her evasive answer.

“Why?” she snapped back instantly.

“Because I’m responsible for you up there,” he said quickly, and then hit her with another question. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No.”

“Flying?”

“No.”

“Falling?”

“No.”

He studied her from under the ridge of his hat. “Dying?”

She considered that a moment. “No. No, I’m not afraid of dying. Once it’s over, it’s over. I think I’m okay with that. And do you ask these questions of everyone you take up for jumps?”

“No,” he said. “But Caleb does.”

“I didn’t ask for Caleb,” she said. “I asked for you.”

“Why?”

Why. She’d walked right into that, but decided quickly she didn’t care. Fine. He needed to know. He could know. Maybe sharing what she felt was a part of letting go of control. “Because I want to be pushed when I’m on the edge, not pulled back,” she said, repeating what Jennifer had said when comparing the two men. “And because I know all about calm control, but I also know my limits are way too narrow.” In other words, she wanted what he had offered.

A bit of surprise flickered across his face, followed by full-blown interest. “You really think you can handle me, Sabrina?”

Truth be told, he scared the holy bejeezus out of her, but he also excited her in a wickedly wonderful way she would never have dared to explore before now.

“I can handle you, cowboy,” she assured him, with only a tiny white lie of uncertainty. “The question is…can you handle me?”

A slow smile slid onto his lips. “Sweetheart,” he said, “if I can’t, I’ll die trying. And I’ll do so a happy man.”

He could have left out the die, considering they were about to jump out of a plane, but she managed to shove that aside, using the much-needed distraction of this hot man flirting with her.

Sabrina slid her paperwork forward. “I’m ready when you’re ready.”

Keeping his gaze locked on her face, he said, “You have a decision to make.”

Wasn’t jumping out of a plane with this man enough of a decision for one day? “Which is what?”

“First choice. You can take several hours of training and jump on your own. That gives you the control, which appears to be important to you.”

“Jumping out of a plane with no one anywhere near to help me is not what I call control,” she said with no hesitation. In fact, she could feel her chest tightening, hear her heart pounding in her ears. “I thought I could jump with you? Can’t I jump with you?” She pushed to her feet, and barely remembered doing it.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said softly, holding up his hands and slowly lowering them. “Of course you can jump with me. But maybe we should go get a beer instead of jumping out of a plane. Give you some time to think this through.”

Suddenly, she realized how silly she must seem. My God. How had she become this scared little girl, too frightened to do what a million other people did without fear?

“No,” she said, knowing that if she gave herself time to think, she’d back out. “Let’s go. I want to jump.”

Ryan stood up and walked around to her. Close. Towering over her. He extended his hand. “I’ll make sure you enjoy every last minute.”

3

SAFE, BORING, WITHOUT RISK. That described the men, and the events, of her life. She yearned for some excitement. She yearned to get past her fear. To live, to breathe, to enjoy life. Not just to survive it.

Sabrina stared at Ryan’s hand—big, strong and an invitation to be daring that included so much more than jumping out of a plane. Her gaze lifted to his chocolatebrown stare, her hand tingling with the desire to touch him. The sexual tension between them was palpable, darn near consuming.

“Okay, Sabrina,” Jennifer said, rushing into the room, “I have news that is either going to totally frustrate you, or make your day.”

Sabrina turned to face her friend, abandoning Ryan’s outstretched hand, as if her own hand were caught in the cookie jar. “News?” she asked.

Jennifer approached them and glanced suspiciously between Sabrina and Ryan. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Sabrina said quickly and then shoved her paperwork forward. “Nothing but paperwork, that is. All done.”

“Paperwork,” Ryan said dryly. “Nothing but paper work. What’s the news?”

With keen, skeptical eyes, Jennifer grabbed the forms, but focused on Ryan. “Apparently Marco Montey enjoyed himself yesterday. He’s coming back this afternoon. He called jumping with you the best adrenaline rush he’d had off the track in years. In other words, you can’t take Sabrina up today. And for the record…that a well-known daredevil views you as an adrenaline rush is a perfect example of why I don’t want Sabrina with you.” Her attention shifted apologetically to Sabrina. “Sorry, sweetie. I know it took a lot for you to get here today. I hate that I put you through this just to send you home, but maybe it’s for the best.”

Sabrina doubted Jennifer really understood how much it really had taken for her to get herself here. How much she’d fretted. How much she’d self-analyzed and denied. Not jumping? For the best? Sabrina wasn’t so sure about that. No one should get this worked up for nothing. Yet, she had. Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut. She should feel relieved she wasn’t jumping. Instead, surprisingly, she felt let down.

Ryan cleared his throat, regaining their attention.

“Hang out until sunset, and I’ll take you up then,” Ryan offered, his brown eyes sympathetic rather than challenging. His words low, for her ears only. “If you’re going to skydive once in your lifetime, that’s the time to do it. It’s truly one of the most spectacular sights ever.”

Sabrina blinked, fighting the most unnerving urge to reach out and touch the light stubble on his ruggedly handsome face. The man loved skydiving. He lived life while she merely existed. She wished she could be brave and exciting like him, but the truth was, he was beyond her. And so was jumping out of a plane.

Swallowing regret that had everything to do with Ryan, and nothing to do with missing a chance to nosedive from a plane, she replied, “I’d better pass because, you know, sitting here, waiting for my turn to jump from a plane, potentially to die, pretty much ruins the ‘spectacular’ part of the equation.”

His lips twitched. “You aren’t going to die. I promise.”

She jumped on that—the only jump she intended to take now, no matter how tempting the man. “You can’t promise that and you know it.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she flung up a staying hand, her nostrils flaring with the spicy scent of him that darn near rattled her resolve. She forcefully added, “I like my promises absolute, not probably absolute. People die while skydiving.”

“People die crossing the street,” he countered.

“Rarely,” she said.

“More frequently than they do jumping out of a plane.”

“Because more people walk across streets, not because skydiving is safer. I checked the statistics. It’s June, and already this year alone, there have been twenty-five people who’ve died in skydiving accidents. I spent all morning wondering if I would be number twenty-six. I can’t sit here all afternoon and do the same.” She shook her head. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“Then let me worry,” he said. “That’s my job.”

She snorted, and ran a hand through her hair. “In other words, neither of us will worry.”

“And exactly what about that plan is bad?” he asked, the look on his face infuriatingly amused. And sexy. The man was sexy. Too sexy.

“Worry makes people careful,” she stated. All her life she’d worried and headed off problems doing it.

“Worry makes people nervous, and then they make mistakes,” he rebutted. “Training and experience make people aware, and awareness equals safety.”

“Let it go, Ryan,” Jennifer interjected. “It would be insane to make her wait. Montey has boatloads of money, and from what Bobby said, he doesn’t mind spending it. He could be here all night. If he lives that long. I swear, Ryan…you’d better keep that man safe. If he dies here, we’ll never get another client.”

“Right. I’ll make sure he dies someplace else. Check.”

“Dang it, Ryan,” Jennifer said. “You know what I mean. Montey is big news.”

The haze of self-absorbed fear clearing, Sabrina asked, “Marco Montey is coming here? As in the Marco Montey? The race-car driver?”

“Yeah,” Jennifer confirmed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Apparently he graduated from the University of Texas and has family here. And if the tabloids have him nailed, he can’t stand living an entire day without tempting fate.” She slanted her gaze toward Ryan. “Thus, his new love affair with him.”

“Can I meet Montey?” Sabrina asked both Jennifer and Ryan. “Or rather interview him?” Pushing past the ingrained need for privacy despite Ryan’s presence, she turned an appeal on Jennifer, “I follow racing so I can hold my own with him. I won’t embarrass you. And Montey is notorious for joking around with the press and telling them absolutely nothing about his life, or his future career plans. And right now, he’s in a dispute with his sponsor, Can Cola, for drinking Red Rock Cola on camera. If I can get the scoop on that and more, this will be my opportunity to prove to Frank I can deliver compelling stories that have nothing to do with my father’s politics. I know you know what that means to me. Please.” She glanced between the two of them. “I really need this interview.”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer said tentatively. “Ryan? Can she interview Montey? Can you get him to talk—as in really talk to her? Not brush her off.”

Sabrina fixed on Ryan sitting next to her, unaware of just how close they were until her knees brushed his. Heat darted up her thighs and thrummed through her core. “I…ah…” She stepped back a bit. “Sorry.”

Eyes twinkling with mischief, he teased, “Running away when you want something from me isn’t the best strategy, you know.”

“Ryan!” Jennifer chided. “Will you behave?”

“Behaving is overrated,” he said, his attention never leaving Sabrina, his eyes hot with challenge. “I’ll make you a deal. If I can score you an interview, you go out with me.”

Her stomach fluttered. An interview with Montey and a date with this wild cowboy. Montey was a building block of the new life she wanted. But at Ryan’s bidding? An image of herself, strapped to a bed, Ryan naked and teasing her, had her all but visibly shaking herself to clear her head. Where the heck had that come from, and why did it arouse her so intensely?

Desperately, Sabrina focused her mind on the goal of a career-solidifying interview. “Does this date include jumping out of a plane?”

“Oh, good grief, Sabrina, you can’t be considering this,” Jennifer said, setting the paperwork on the desk. “I’ll let you two work this out. And I’ll be up front when you do.”

Neither of them acknowledged Jennifer, either before or after her departure. “Only if you want it to,” Ryan replied to Sabrina’s question, as if Jennifer had never spoken. Then he leaned toward her. “And for the record, I prefer you associate our first date with pleasure, not fear.” He eased back, the scent of him, spicy and male, lingering in her senses, as he said, “Do we have a deal?”

Making a deal with this man wasn’t safe. It wasn’t something she would normally do.

“A date in exchange for an interview,” she agreed, her resolve forming. “Yes. All right. We have a deal.”

She wanted this interview. She wanted Ryan. And for once in her life, she wasn’t denying herself just so she could be safe. She was embracing the thrill, the danger…and, yes, the deal.

Satisfaction slid across Ryan’s face. “I’ve got your paperwork and contact information,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.” He pushed to his feet.

“What?” she asked, suddenly uncertain about what had just happened. “How? When do I get my interview?”

Ryan snatched up the paperwork with all of her contact information. “When I come to collect my date.” And then he sauntered toward the door.

“Wait,” she said, following him. “Or rather. Should I wait here? Now?”

He paused in the doorway. “No need.” He waved her papers at her. “I know how to find you and I will.” He winked. “And that, sweetheart, is a promise you can label absolute.” He disappeared into the hallway. Sabrina swayed, her fists balled by her sides, as she fought the urge to go after him. Resisted the urge to try and control what she couldn’t control. And she was pretty darn sure she could no more control Ryan Walker than she could repress that burn inside her to give it her best try.

4

SHE NEEDED THIS INTERVIEW with Marco to solidify her new life in Texas. And not just a standard interview like the one the Mayor gave at his press conference about supporting the troops, and how this soldier turned bank robber had a stress disorder brought on by combat, which so many ex-military have, as well. In this case, she wasn’t sure that was the real story. Especially since she’d gotten home to an email from Frank, with a snapshot of the soldier and his family, a wife and two kids, who looked very happy together. The email had read “My contact says wife has visited the Mayor’s office after hours and her name was erased from the visitation log.”

It wasn’t in her nature to not fight for people who needed help. The idea that the wife might need hers, well, it was getting to her a little. She’d dig around some but she wasn’t telling Frank she was doing it. And in the meantime, she wanted that interview with Marco Montey—an interview she’d make into something that spoke to race-car lovers and managed to show off her talents as a journalist. Not sure how she would do that, but she’d figure it out.

Exactly why Sabrina’s cell phone sat on the edge of her new, fancy marble tub. The tub had tempted her into renting a condo with an option to buy, but she wouldn’t be able to afford it if she didn’t get her career on track. Thus why, in the far-too-many hours that had passed since her “deal” with Ryan, she’d done plenty of that worrying she’d sworn was a good thing; the knots in her stomach begged to differ. Plain and simple, she was fretting herself sick that she’d soon be leaving her high ceilings and shiny wooden floors for a cramped New York apartment with only a shower once again. Because that was exactly what was going to happen if she were going to report on politics, as Frank would have it. She’d get paid a whole lot more for it in New York where she had a reputation. Remaining here wouldn’t serve any purpose, no matter how tempted she was to stay the course.

And it seemed temptation had led her to all kinds of places lately. To this condo, and now straight into the path of Ryan, who she couldn’t get out of her head. Or her bath, she realized guiltily. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined him here, naked—water dripping off sleek muscles that she would lick dry. Grrrrr. There she went again!

Anxious to put an end to the unbearable waiting, Sabrina glanced at the lit-up face of her cell phone. Nine o’clock. The chances of good news at this late hour were slim, and she resisted the urge to be pushy and dial Jennifer. The truth was, the disappointment sprang from more than the interview. It was about Ryan and his “deal.” About the excuse that deal gave her to go where she didn’t belong with the man. It was Ryan who could give her Marco. Ryan who could give her…

“More than you can handle,” she murmured, rising to her feet in a splash of bath water, and reaching for a fluffy white towel she’d bought at a Macy’s summer blow-out sale at about half the price of a New York summer blow-out sale. She could get used to these prices for sure. Even her morning Starbucks was cheaper, which helped justify the price of her condo. She liked this city. Austin had an artsy, contemporary feel, the music and movie scene, without the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. Maybe she didn’t have to go home to be home, and maybe she’d even be okay writing about the political scene here, with distance from her father. Her chest tightened. Or maybe not.

She knotted the towel firmly around her chest and padded across the thick teal-blue bathroom rug to the mirror above the stainless-steel sink, where she glanced at her hair piled atop her head in disarray. She looked like a wreck, felt like a wreck. Not one bit sexy, despite the sex on her mind.

She pursed her lips. “You aren’t having sex with Ryan ‘Cowboy’ Walker, nor are you ever going to,” she murmured in denial of her yearning for this man. With a regretful sigh, she opened the mahogany cabinet, snatching the new mud mask that the mall clerk had convinced her was the ticket to radiance.

“No sex with Ryan,” she told her image in the mirror, “so stop thinking about it.”

With determination to do just that, she spread the green goop all over her face. Task complete, she was satisfied that for the duration of her hour-long facial, she would not only look like Frankenstein, but all sexual urges would be diluted.

She’d only just traded her towel for her silver silk knee-length robe and started for the long hallway leading to the sunken living room, when a knock sounded on the door.

With a frown, she hesitated outside the red “good luck” door—as the real-estate agent had called it—certain that whoever was outside wasn’t going to agree it was lucky if he or she saw her in this mask.

Still, what real choice did she have? She called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s your jumpmaster, sweetheart,” came the deep, familiar voice she knew as that of temptation himself. “Open up.”

Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat. A rush of adrenaline ran through her veins.

“You owe me a date,” he said. “I came to collect.”

“You owe me an interview,” she called out. This couldn’t be happening. Not with mud on her face. “You can’t just show up here unannounced.”

“Not even if I tell you Marco is in the car waiting for us to drive him to the airport?”

Marco was here? Without thinking, she flung the door open. “He’s here? As in at my condo? You got me the interview?” She’d barely spat out the questions before she realized what she’d done. Big gorgeous Ryan loomed above her, his arm resting on the frame above his head, amusement in his eyes as he took in her silk robe and the mess on her face. She’d fantasized about losing control with Ryan, and now she had. In the most unsexy of ways.