LITMIR.BIZ

      Kane Wiley ducked around the business jet’s engine to place his bags in the plane’s exterior storage compartment. His breath steamed in the November air.

      “Is that all you’ve got?” his father, Charlie, asked.

      “Yep.” Not only for this flight. All Kane owned—besides the business jet itself—could fit into two bags. He traveled light. And liked it that way.

      “I appreciate your making the trip, son.” Wearing faded jeans, a black turtleneck and down vest, Charlie looked younger than his fifty-six years, even with his salt-and-pepper hair.

      “Just hold up your end of the deal, Dad.”

      “I will.” Charlie picked up a box containing soda, water, ice, boxed lunches and a plate of cookies and brownies. “I will leave you alone. No more questions. No more badgering you to come home.”

      Home. That was a good one. Kane nearly laughed. There hadn’t been a real home to come back to since his mom had died suddenly from a heart attack three years ago and his dad had quickly remarried…and divorced. Now his father looked poised to make the same mistake again.

      “But—” Charlie pushed the box of food through the doorway of the cabin “—I still expect a card or e-mail or phone call at Christmastime.”

      “I can manage that.” Easter and Father’s Day, too. Even his dad’s birthday. Kane would do anything to get away from Boston and never have to return. He didn’t want to watch his father woo and wed yet another woman who could never take the place of his mother.

      “Just remember, I love you, son. I’m here if you need me. For anything. Money, whatever.”

      Kane nodded once. He glanced at his watch. Damn. “Where is she?”

      “Belle?” Charlie asked.

      Kane fought the urge not to wince at his dad’s newest “friend’s” name. “The one I’m flying to Seattle.”

      “Serena will be here,” Charlie said. “Traffic is always bad at this time.”

      Norwood Airport was twenty-five miles north of Boston. That meant she could be really late. Kane wanted to get in the air.

      “Try smiling, son,” Charlie said. “You might have fun. Serena James is a beautiful young woman.”

      “There are lots of beautiful women out there. No need to settle on just one.”

      Though a cross-country romance might not be too bad. As long as it was over by the time they returned home.

      Charlie shook his head. “You just haven’t met the right woman to love yet.”

      “I meet lots of women.” Kane grinned. “Love them, too.”

      Charlie frowned. “I mean the forever kind of love. The kind I had with your mother.”

      And with his second wife.

      And with what’s-her-name. Belle.

      Forever was a joke. And love—the kind his dad was talking about—was nothing more than a pretty word for convenient sex and companionship.

      A white van pulled through the gate and honked its horn.

      Charlie turned toward the sound. “They’re here.”

      “Great.” Kane had been hoping “they” would be a no-show.

      A woman with silvery-blond hair and a beaming smile drove. She waved. Her passenger held a cell phone to her ear and wore dark, round sunglasses that hid much of her face.

      The van stopped. The driver’s door opened. The older woman, wearing brown pants and a colorful jacket, slid out gracefully.

      “Good morning.” She greeted Charlie with a handshake. The woman stepped toward Kane, extending her arm. “You must be Kane.”

      He shook her hand, noting her warmth and strong grip. She was different from his mother and his ex-stepmother. Older. Maybe even older than his father. That surprised Kane. “You must be Belle.”

      “I am.” Her voice sounded like honey. Deep South honey. Slow and sweet. “I appreciate your flying Serena to Seattle.”

      Of course she did, especially with his father picking up all the associated flight and fuel costs.

      “Kane’s happy to do it,” Charlie answered. “Aren’t you, son?”

      Kane nodded. He would be very happy once this trip was behind him and he’d be flying away for good.

      “Well, we’d better get busy then.” Belle opened the van doors and pulled out a box. “We have boxes to load. Brochures, favor samples and portfolios. Plus linens, flower arrangements, a cake and gowns.”

      Belle’s eagerness to help surprised Kane. “O-kay.”

      “You still have to meet Serena James, our wedding dress designer,” Belle said. “She’s finishing up a phone call. No doubt talking to Rupert.”

      Kane bit. “Rupert?”

      “Her boyfriend.” Belle’s ever present smile widened. “The two are practically engaged.”

      So much for a little romance in Seattle. Ring on the finger or not, Kane didn’t mess around with another man’s girl.

      The passenger door opened. He focused on the woman exiting the van. She was, in a word, stunning. Long blond bangs fell over her forehead, but her hair didn’t touch the collar of the jacket in the back. The short cut looked hip and trendy, just like the woman herself.

      She wasn’t tall, five-six if he was being generous and subtracted the heels on her brown leather boots. Even with her long wool coat, he could tell she had curves in all the right places.

      He liked what he saw. She was exactly his type. Kane blew out a puff of breath that hung in the cold air. Old type, he corrected with a frown. He’d given up on blondes.

      Her hair color coupled with the way she dressed reminded him of a former girlfriend, Amber Wallersby, who had been sexy as hell, but also a spoiled, pampered princess. She’d wanted him to stop flying his grandfather around on his private jet and take a boring desk job at one of her father’s companies so he could pamper her in the manner to which she’d become accustomed. Kane had almost agreed, almost been taken in, until he’d seen that she might have been gorgeous on the outside, but was all show and zero substance on the inside.

      Was Serena James the same?

      Not that he was in any position to find out. Or care. Still they would be spending several hours flying west together. No sense starting off on the wrong foot.

      “Hi,” he said. “I’m your pilot. Kane.”

      Serena didn’t extend her hand. She removed her sunglasses and glanced up at him. Clear, sharp eyes met his. He hadn’t expected such directness or such stunning blue eyes.

      “You’re Kane Wiley?” Serena sounded surprised, almost as if she disapproved. “Charlie’s son?”

      “In the flesh.”

      “Do you see a family resemblance?” Charlie asked.

      She

Скачать книгу