On the Wings of Love

“Then resolve to live dangerously, Miss Bromley.” Rafe proffered his arm.

She hesitated, head high, nostrils flaring. “Will you let me help work on your aeroplane?”

“Your father would have me skewered.”

“My father doesn’t have to know.”

Rafe sighed. “Maybe a little. No promises.”

“No promises?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, then, goodbye, Mr. Garrick. Have a lovely day.” She turned on her heel and strutted toward the door, her hips twitching in a way that almost made Rafe groan out loud. He cursed under his breath. Let the brat go, he admonished himself. But even as he willed himself to heed the warning he heard his voice calling out to her.

“Blast it, Alex, come back here!”

She turned slowly, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief. “Will you show me how your aeroplane works—without snarling at me even once?”

Rafe exhaled sharply. “Come on, then. Help me over there.”

The task that had loomed as tedious with Buck became something entirely different with the man’s daughter. Alex’s frame fit perfectly beneath Rafe’s arm as she took his weight. The warmth of her softly curved body, resting against his side, was pleasantly arousing. But it was her intelligence that intrigued him most. Her questions were insightful, her grasp of scientific principles swift and sure. Pity she was a mere woman. Otherwise Buck Bromley’s only child might have made one hell of an engineer, or even an aviator.

They made a slow half circle of the wreckage, Rafe thinking aloud as he assessed the damage to his precious machine. The rudder and rear elevators were fully intact. But everything forward of the wings was hopelessly shattered. The wings themselves would need new ailerons and a complete rebracing. Maybe while he was at it, he could improve the warping mechanism, making the craft easier to maneuver in the air.

The engine appeared worse off than he’d hoped. He wouldn’t know how much damage it had sustained until he could take the thing apart. To say the least, he had his work cut out for him.

“You don’t look very happy.” Alex was gazing up at him, her eyes deep violet in the shadows. “Can you rebuild it?”

“I’ll have to. The only question is how much time and money it will take. Right now the picture’s not a pretty one.”

“Papa would help you with the money if you asked him to. He has his faults, but stinginess isn’t one of them.”

Rafe’s sharp intake of breath triggered a jab of pain along his battered rib cage. He clenched his teeth, waiting for the agony to pass. “I’ve been down that road with your father, thank you. He offered to buy the aeroplane…and me. I turned him down.”

“You turned him down!” She stared up at him, amazement written across her face. “Why, for heaven’s sake?”

“I won’t be owned. Neither will my aeroplane. I want to start my own company, under my own name, like Glenn Curtiss here in New York, or Louis Blériot in France. My dream. My designs. My decisions. That’s what I’d be giving up if I were to accept your father’s offer. Does that make sense to you, or do you think I’m crazy?”

She pursed her very kissable lips. “Knowing Papa, I’d say you were very brave. Get on his bad side, and he’ll eat you alive.”

They moved on around the aeroplane, her body warm, damp and fragrant against his side. Rafe struggled to ignore the ripples of awareness that shimmered through his body. Despite his good intentions he was becoming aroused. “Your father’s been very generous,” he said. “I’d like to find a way to repay him. But as for the rest, I’m on my own now.”

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