Chapter 3

This hot man, this... Day... had he really said what I thought I heard? stunned

and suspicious, I asked:

"What do you mean, interested?" Interested in what way?

He gave me the sexiest smile imaginable.

“The normal way.

Yes. In the normal way a man showed interest in a woman. Usual

for him — which was a no-brainer — but definitely not for me. My skin got hot

as if I had a fever, and I felt my pulse in my throat. Something else pulsed between the

my legs. My dormant sex drive seemed to have woken up.

No man has ever looked at me that way. Jeffrey's interest had been

immensely flattering and seductive, but his eyes had never shown that warmth that

de Day possessed. From my ex, I had, of course, learned that his interest was in

appropriation of my research, and the sex we shared was just an added benefit to

he.

And Jeffrey was, let's face it, a short, prematurely bald professor who, in

his best days, and with goodwill, we could call it interesting... It was not even a

little like the startlingly handsome boy who looked at me with such intensity.

A man who couldn't possibly be interested in my research.

Day seemed sincere, at least to me, who was no expert at judging the

male character. However, I still didn't understand. What did he want from me? I swallowed again

that fluttering throb in my throat and I forced the words out:

"In the normal way?" What does that mean?

His eyes burned with even more heat.

“It's a long flight, Theresa Fallon. I bet we can figure out some ways

interesting way to pass the time.

What ways did he have in mind? A more experienced woman would know, or at least would have

imagined a playful way to discover. All I could do was speak frankly.

“Day, if you want sex, you can get it from Carmen.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“Indeed, that is true. I'm not saying I don't want to, but if I did, it would be with

“Indeed, that is true. I'm not saying I don't want to, but if I did, it would be with

you. When you were in the mood.

- When? My voice rose. I couldn't believe the size of her audacity.

Did he really think I was as easy as Carmen? "Shouldn't you have said if?"

A cocky smile.

"Nothing... I'd bet on when."

"You really think so, don't you?" The words exploded from my mouth. As

he dared to talk to me like that? "Has no woman ever said 'no' to you?"

He looked up, squinting as if considering my question,

then said:

"No, not that I remember...

The tone of his voice, with an amused mocking tone, somehow disarmed my

annoyance.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too cocky?"

"Do you find false modesty attractive?"

— No, I don't — when it came to my work, I felt as confident as I did.

“If you're good at something, it's silly to pretend you're not.” I rubbed my forehead, where that

my tension headache reappeared.

“That's right, I'm good, I swear to you.

He meant in bed. Or was that not it? Maybe my inexperience made me interpret

this man wrong.

He reached out, brushed the hair off my forehead, then rubbed it gently,

his warm thumb finding the knot of tension.

People never touched me except for handshakes or those accidental bumps from

bodies passing through a narrow doorway. This touch was presumptuous. Intimate. I should have me

away, but it was so wonderful. How long had it been since anyone took care of me?

- Good in what? I dared ask, not sure I wanted him to answer.

"Hmm." A very wicked little smile. “How about curing headaches, for

to start?

“Not a bad start.

Where did he intend to go from here? Did he really hope to seduce me... and do what he wanted?

whatever was possible in such a limited space as an airplane?

Did I want him to do this? Well, now that that tender touch had undid the knot

unpleasant strain of tension, an entirely different kind emerged. A buzz of excitement running

in my veins, like warm, thick honey.

Day had turned down certain sex with a slender black-haired flight attendant.

wavy, plump red lips, and no doubt ten times – no, I think fifty

times – more sexual experience than I have, plus the fact that I could, knowing the locale as

knew, find a place where the two could have sex.

Was that man crazy? Or was I crazy? I leaned forward more to

soaking up the heat coming off that firm, dark skin and inhaling the masculine scent that

reminiscent of outdoor adventures.

I shouldn't encourage him, shouldn't let the arousal build between my legs.

Because of course I wasn't going to let him seduce me. I was not that kind of woman.

No, Dr. Theresa Fallon - Miss My-Name-Is-Work - was not the type to

woman who attracted a handsome man, who flirted with him and turned him into a lover.

However, looking at it that way... Wouldn't it be good, at least once in your life, to break the relationship?

mold I had always been trapped in and be that kind of woman?

Day seemed to think I was like that. The puzzling thing is that I would have thought he was

just picking a convenient target if he hadn't rejected Carmen. For the first time in

my life, it seemed that a man saw me as a sexual object. The feminist inside me

said I should be insulted, but the truth is, I was extremely flattered.

He stopped rubbing my forehead and ran his fingers through my hair in a motion that

it was half massage, half affection, pure happiness. It was hard to think rationally. It's impossible

not letting the head lean into your hands as a cat does with one who caresses it.

“I like your hair,” he said.

"I thought men liked long hair."

— The hair must suit the woman. Be bright, let the woman feel beautiful. No

all lacquered and stuff.

"Do you think you suit me?"

I wasn't looking for a compliment, just genuinely curious. I wore my hair

that way because it was easier, and because I had better things to do than worry about

My appearance.

“Yes, it shows off your long neck, your pretty face.” The man ran a finger along

from the outside of my ear, giving me nice shivers. — Nice ears.

I never took the time to think about my ears, but I guess that's okay.

with them. Now, a pretty face? If he wanted to seduce me, he needed to try harder than that.

make generic compliments.

— My face is average, average. Neither round nor square, but somewhere in between.

My physical characteristics too. I am neither big nor small.

He studied me intently.

“Well, I guess that's right. Except for the part where you say you're average, I

I would say perfect. Harmonious.

Well, this time it wasn't a generic compliment, and its sincerity made me blush.

"Like Goldilocks and… What was it again?" he asked, tightening his eyes.

bright gray eyes. “Ah yes, the beds of the three bears. Who would want too big or

too small when you can have exactly the right size?

"Actually, the chairs that were either too big or too small," I protested,

remembering the story I had read to Merilee a few times. — The beds were either hard

too soft or too soft.

“Oh yeah…and”—the spark flew again—“too soft really isn't cool. Hard

too much on the other hand? Hmm... You are the woman. There's this thing about being too tough when

is a girl in bed?

Oh my God. My cheeks flamed up. That man was so out of my league

that wasn't funny.

If I had any common sense I'd tell him not to be so rude. I would order to remove

his hand from my neck, where it caressed the back of my neck in a way that gave me the most chills

pleasure all over the body. She would get the evidence out of her carry-on bag and go back to being Dr. Fallon.

Instead, I looked down at her lap. Underneath the zipper of the jeans, a bulge

impressive was already expanding. I forgot all about Dr Fallon and I was wondering

what this naked man must feel like, what it would feel like in my hand as my touch would make him

to grow. So how would it feel between my legs, where my womanly parts have long

neglected people had awakened to a needy conscience.

Hell, this sexy, savvy, self-assured man was actually turned on by my

cause. I had never had this feeling of pure female power before. He gave me confidence

unprecedented sex.

Trying to ignore my burning cheeks, I said,

“Too hard? Not in my experience—Day didn't need to know how limited the

my knowledge. The surprise in his eyes pleased me, and I continued. "Of course, how

you said, I'm an academic. Hypotheses need to be tested.

He chuckled and pressed his hand to my shoulder.

“I'll offer to help with this test.

Oh, oh, oh, what have I gotten myself into? Did he think I was offering to do

sex with him? People were always talking about the sex club at the top.7

“Dinner time.” It was Carmen, crisp and businesslike. — I'm taking orders. In

As a starter, we have Atlantic salmon or tartare, foie gras pate or wild mushroom soup.

Then you can choose between filet mignon with pepper sauce, curry chicken and coconut or

Slipper Lobster Salad with Mango Ginger Dressing.

— I'll take the salad — I love that flavor between crab and lobster. — And the salmon tartare,

please.

“Mushroom soup to start,” Day said, “and I'll have the salad too. And wine.

Last time I flew you had a Lenton Brae Sauvignon Blanc.

"Yes, we do," she added slyly. "And the request is for your fiancée too, yes."

Of course?

He looked at me.

"Love, does this wine sound good to you?"

I didn't know this wine, but I got into the game.

- Sure honey.

Gathering all my courage, glad I had an excuse to touch him, I leaned over.

I walked towards her and placed a kiss on her shirt-covered shoulder, absorbing an incredible shock.

of heat and energy.

Hmm. If kissing the shoulder through the cotton had been that powerful experience, how

would it then be lips to lips? My need to find out just kept growing... No,

honestly, it was irresistible.

Carmen handed us hot, damp towels and left.

After cleaning your face – a benefit of not wearing makeup – and hands and putting your

towel on the table, I asked Day:

— How is this wine?

“He's from the Margaret River area. Dry, spicy, a hint of lemon and oak. must go well

with the salad and starters.

Hmm... He got more interesting by the moment. A hot guy with a tattoo

of dragon and connoisseur of wines. And he flew business class. For the first time, I

asked him what he did for a living. And I was about to question it when his lips

bowed and said:

- Dear? Did you call me darling?

"You called me 'love.'

“That's what popped into my mind. Because you're so sweet and everything,” he teased. - Then,

do you always call your guys “honey”?

"No." I had called Jeffrey "darling" at one time or another, but I always used his

name. I wasn't the affectionate type in that sense. I gave him a smile full of sweetener.

you darling.

He laughed.

- I like you you know?

“I kind of expected this.” I paused for a second. "Since we're engaged and

everything else.

"Speaking of which..." He held up his flute, which still had a couple fingers of champagne in it.

bottom. "Shouldn't people toast to our future?"

I lifted mine too.

- Marriage?

Slowly, eyes glistening, Day shook his head.

"That's not what I had in mind." He clinked his glass softly against mine,

then he got up and emptied the contents in one gulp.

"You mean I have to drink a toast to whatever you have in mind?"

Shivering as I lifted the glass, I did the same. It wasn't a promise that I would

sex with him, just a promise of... what?

To play his game, though she had to admit that she was enjoying it, even if that

make me nervous. Not to mention…excited. He had taken away my headache,

it made me forget about work and also, I suddenly realized, calling my sister Jenna.

I took advantage of the excuse to distance myself a little and let the sexual tension dissipate a little.

little.

"Wow, I need to make a phone call."

Jenna should be home by now. Alone? Yesterday she said she was done with the

surfer whom he had followed to Santa Cruz. She didn't look heartbroken, but that wasn't

no surprise. For Jenna, the important thing about relationships was having fun while they lasted, not

that long term thing.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Day pointed to the onboard phone, then sat back,

with eyes closed.

I spent a moment admiring the length of her legs, the pressure of firm thighs

against worn jeans, the bulge in his crotch that had lessened since the arrival of

Carmen, but it was still impressive. His firm, tanned arms rested on the armchair,

sprinkled with black hair. My fingers itched to touch the arm. Among other parts of

body.

I dialed my sister's number and waited. After several rings, I was getting ready

to leave another voicemail when I heard her voice, breathless.

"...Lô?"

“Hi, Jenna, it's Theresa.

I huddled in my corner, away from Day. Not only for the illusion of privacy, but also

to avoid the distraction offered by her handsome body.

— Hey, sis. The phone display did not show your name.

“I'm on the plane. Did I wake you up?

"No... I just got here." There was a beach party. So are you going home?

— Didn't get my email? I said I was catching a flight on Sunday night.

- Today is Sunday?

— I think it's Saturday night here — The time difference could make people

confusing, even to the efficient Theresa. As for Jenna, as she rarely got a

steady job, the days of the week actually had little meaning, as did keeping track of

of time, or keeping track of something. That's why it was so contradictory that Jenna had decided

participate in a hawk count survey. - And you? I asked. — When are you going to

Vancouver?

“I'm still deciding.

“Jenna, you're one of those people who have an idea and change direction without warning. What's the big

problem leaving Santa Cruz? Did you go back to that guy whose name I forgot?

— The surfer, Carlos? No, it was. But, wow! Surfing here is wonderful. I'm getting too

good!

"And improving your surfing skills is more important than your sister's wedding?"

Day snorted and I turned to look at him, but his eyes were still wide.

closed.

- That is not what I said.

“Yes, Jenna, it's okay. Anyway, if you're stuck out there, I'll do what

wedding my way. I mean, with Kat's help,” I added quickly.

“Yes, of course, you hate it when we try to help. All he knows how to do is criticize.

"I like to do things right," I muttered.

“Right your way, lady perfectionist.

Why couldn't we ever act like rational adults?

“Let's not argue. We all said we wanted to give Merilee a big

marriage, so we need to cooperate. I'm going to create a project and define the tasks, then

we can choose who does what.

"Yes, certainly, a project," she said dismissively. - As you wish...

“Of course, you won't be able to do anything until you get to Vancouver,” I added.

She sighed.

“I'm trying, I swear, Tree.” Jenna was the only one who used nicknames. I was Tree

because that was how she first pronounced my name. - But it's

complicated, I need to get some money.

- Money?

— Of course, to buy the plane ticket and go home.

"You mean you don't have the money to buy a ticket?" — but she wasn't

working?

“This peregrine falcon research is voluntary work. I was a waitress some nights,

but I'm not arranging much.

How could she live like this, especially now that she was about to turn thirty?

Normally I wouldn't have bankrolled her, but dammit, Merilee was getting married.

“When I get to Vancouver tomorrow, I'll book you a flight and pay.

“Shit, Theresa, I don't need your charity.

Couldn't she just say "thank you"? Annoyed, I answered back.

"Well, it seems to me that you do." Or, if you don't take it from me, call Dad or

mommy. I'm sure they'll buy you a ticket home.

- This will not happen.

Damn it! Ninety-nine percent of the time, she was easy going, but every now and then

— and at the most inconvenient times — she would act stubborn.

"So what's your plan?" "My guess was there weren't any." — Merilee is going

get really upset if you're not home for the wedding.

- I'll be there! I swear to God, Theresa, trust. I'll find a way.

My headache was coming back.

“Well, if you have any brilliant wedding ideas, call or email me.

"You've already booked the place, haven't you?"

- No not yet. I haven't even started the project yet. Ever since Merilee called me, I've been

busy. Booking the flight, rearranging my schedule, looking for someone to

keeping up with college exams, packing her bags. I'll find a spot as soon as I arrive

at home.

“What do you mean, find a location?” You know where the wedding has to be, right?

I had barely thought about it.

- Where?

—VanDusen Gardens.

“Why did you… Oh. Oh yeah!

Our grandmother, Mom's mother, who unfortunately now suffered from Alzheimer's, used to

Our grandmother, Mom's mother, who unfortunately now suffered from Alzheimer's, used to

take us, her granddaughters, for a walk every Sunday afternoon. To Science World, to the aquarium, to

beach at Spanish Banks, to VanDusen Gardens... Merilee always loved those walks,

those landscapes with natural gardens. I remember her saying that she wanted to get married there. Like me

could i have forgotten?

Could it have something to do with the fact that I rarely paid attention to Merilee, the last

addition to our three sister pack? Or Mom or Dad or Kat or Jenna, for that matter. Until

Merilee arrived, we were all involved in our own lives.

"It's June," I replied. 'It will certainly be booked on a Saturday.'

"It's a big place, I bet if you squeeze in we can get in..."

To put it nicely, Jenna was an eternal optimist. And to say more

accurate, she tended to ignore reality.

“I'll ask—of course, there could always be a last-minute cancellation.

Merilee would be very happy if we could arrange for her wedding to be in VanDusen. — But case

it doesn't, maybe we can book it in one of the other gardens where grandma used to have us

to take.

"Talk to Mom and Dad," Jenna said. "They must know of someone who can."

help with that. Make them feel guilty if they don't help.

"Hey, that's a good idea..." our dad, who worked at the University of British Columbia,

was one of the leading names in Canada in genetic research for the cure of cancer, and was

busy with the final version of his report. Mom was a successful lawyer and now

was preparing to file an appeal with the Supreme Court of Canada next week.

Neither of them had time to help with the event arrangements, but I knew that both

they wanted Merilee to have a wonderful marriage. They wouldn't mind spending a few

minutes stirring the chopsticks. Reluctantly, I replied, “Good idea.

"I was sure you'd come up with that idea sooner or later." There was a smile on the face.

Jenna's voice as she added, “As soon as you start planning that project of yours.

Jenna had no idea what a project could be. So I decided to leave things

That's why I didn't say anything. Instead, I suggested:

— What if it rains? We're going to need tents or something.

“It's going to be a sunny day, don't worry.

I rolled my eyes.

“Okay then, you make a wish to the weather gods, in the meantime I’ll elaborate.

a contingency plan.

Noises from the hall made me turn to see Carmen serving people a few rows away.

ahead of us.

“Jenna, I have to go now.

- Me too.

“Call Kat, okay? In a few hours, when she wakes up, okay? And send an email

for us when you know the day you are going to travel.

There was no answer.

“Jenna? Fuck, did you hang up on me?

Day opened his eyes and smiled when I hung up the phone in a less than polite way.

“Man, I'm glad I don't have any brothers. It's always like that?

- Normally. We love each other, but…” I shrugged. "My secretary says the

her sister is her best friend. I have no idea how that could be.

Of course, I don't actually have a best friend. I have colleagues and graduate students

who I like to talk to, but not friends.

One day I thought Jeffrey was my best friend. Then I decided that I don't need

on one.

Day's hand stroked the aching knot on my forehead.

“You need to learn some relaxation techniques, Theresa.

The tension eased.

“Actually, I kind of like this one. Your hands are magic.

Yes, I said those words deliberately. When he touched me, I wanted more. Wow,

here I was, flirting with a man I knew next to nothing about! Maybe I was crazier

than I imagined.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he muttered.

For I believed him, if he meant his hands. They were so... not academic!

Strong, masculine, yet delicate and sensitive. Hands that would make a woman melt and

burn under your touch. Oh yes, I was starting to believe I might be crazy.

Carmen arrived, carrying the neatly laid out trays: appetizers, cloth napkins,

clean glasses. She presented a bottle of wine so we could see the Lenton Brae label.

and then served us.

"Enjoy," she said bluntly.

“She hates us,” I said to Day. "Did you realize we're going to have half-assed service?"

for the whole trip, right?

"That's better than a tit in the face."

- What it is! Don't tell me you didn't like it.

“Okay, I'm a normal person. What can I say?

He looked down at my chest, as if imagining what my breasts should look like.

That look reminded me of the thin V-neck T-shirt and flesh-colored bra she wore,

designed more for comfort than for show. And the way my nipples had

excited and did everything to get the man's attention through these two layers of

tissue. I imagined his lips sucking a nipple into his mouth and a twinge of desire coursed through my heart.

body. Trying to sound collected, I said:

"You really know how to compliment a woman."

“Yes, I'm a classy guy.

The words came out distractedly, his voice husky, his eyes still fixed on my chest.

I opened my napkin, picked up a fork.

“You have a different charm. Stop looking and eat the soup.

He laughed.

- Different? You sure know how to offer a compliment, Dr. Fallon—

Obediently, he turned his attention to the tray and took a few spoonfuls of soup. — Or

not a doctor? I noticed that Carmen called her “Miss”.

“I'm a doctor, yes, but the first time I flew as Dr Fallon, a woman had

a heart attack. They checked the passenger list and came to me, thinking I was

a doctor — I remembered my shock and panic, and it gave me a chill. - There it was

me, twenty-two, and feeling completely helpless...

- Twenty-two?

Damn, this guy had a way of making me reveal things I normally kept to myself.

secrecy. That was crazy, really. He was clearly a player. Still in our seats

semi-isolated, feeling the bubbling of champagne and a rising excitement, there was a feeling

of intimacy. Damn it, I was a strong-willed woman. And I could choose what

what to share and what to withhold, and now, at this very moment, what was the harm in talking about these things?

I shrugged casually.

“I was something of a prodigy girl. I flew through college. What else can I

to say? I took a bite of salmon and tasted it. It was really good for airplane food.

- Face. Haven't you done anything else in your life but go to school?

Besides supervising my sisters while my parents worked?

- Not a lot. My CDF qualities became apparent as a baby, so

my parents demanded more of me — no Goldilocks for me, my fairy tales

had been Greco-Roman mythology.

- Why?

"What do you mean... What do you mean?"

"What was their objective?" Make you get a PhD at twenty-two?

The question got me thinking, and I realized I had no answer for it.

“I think when they noticed my potential, they wanted me to see it too.

This was not how I normally behaved, revealing personal information to a

strange, but indeed there was a surprising warmth in those gray eyes. A heat that

it eased the ache in my temples, and made my nether regions tingle at his proximity.

The man put down his spoon and half-empty soup bowl and cocked his head.

"But what's with this 'all work, no play' thing?" What's so bad

in being a child? Playing with friends, having fun?

"I don't know…" I answered calmly, lifting my wineglass. - I envied

my sisters, sometimes, because they had these things. But – I know this is horrible – I

I felt kind of superior too.

He laughed.

“Yes, I noticed that in your phone calls…

I shuddered.

"Was I really that horrible?"

- No. She just acted like a perfectionist who gets impatient when others aren't around.

height.

I shook my head.

“That's me, in short.

"Try the wine," he insisted, making me realize that I was holding the glass,

but still hadn't taken a sip.

I complied and found that it very much matched the description he had given. He synthesized the

wine as well as it had just done to me.

- It is very good.

Day touched my arm, fingers floating over my skin in a caress, then

gently squeezed me.

“There's a lot more to say than those few words, Theresa. Sense of humor, loyalty...

- Loyalty? I interrupted.

“By your little sister. By taking care of her marriage.

My eyes widened.

“That's not loyalty, it's just that she's my sister. Marriage is very important to her,

and I want her day to be perfect.

After all, there weren't few times when I and the rest of the family didn't

we'd been at Merilee's side.

“Of course.” He took a few more spoonfuls of soup and held out the spoon. —

Try it.

I leaned forward, feeling ungainly as I sucked on the soup.

“Tasty. Want to try the salmon?

When he nodded, I offered him a bite. He held my hand with his

his, which had the opposite effect of sending tremors through my fingers and up my arm.

Day took his time letting go of my hand.

— How many sisters are there? Just to know how many phone calls are left.

“No, I'm done. I'll let you know when I'm at the Honolulu airport — I had another one.

little wine. “We are four sisters.” I stopped talking. “But you shouldn't want to know.

“Hey, until dinner is over and the lights go out, what else can we do but

to talk?

And what are we going to do next? I had intended to work – on the wedding project, on the

student tests. However, that could all wait. At the moment, with meal trays in

in front of us, what else could we do but eat, drink and talk? It was very nice

having a man interested in something other than my latest research project. I never

I would see more of Day after this flight, so what was the harm in opening up a little? In fact, the idea – the

passing ships at sea through the night, the strangers on a plane – it seemed like nothing

bad.

“Okay, there goes the story of the Fallon family. When Mom and Dad got married, he

he was working on his doctorate – he's a geneticist – and she was starting law school.

They hadn't planned on having kids for years. She was taking the pill, which, as you know, is not

one hundred percent effective. Mom got pregnant in her second year on the course. Lucky for me, they

decided to have the baby.

"Was that you?" Glad they made that decision.

“My mother believed that a father should stay at home with the children during the first few years.

two or three years, but dad is too absent-minded a teacher, he wouldn't have been much help with looking after

of a baby. They decided to have at least two children, and my mother said that if it were to

interrupt her career, she would only do it once. Therefore, mother generated us in a very

efficient. Me, right after Kat. When trying for a boy, along came Jenna. They decided that the package of

three daughters would be enough. When Jenna was two, Mom went back to college.

Right.

Day, who had been drinking his wine as I spoke, placed his glass on the tray.

“Your mother seems very organized. Do you think you took after her?

“Funny you should say that. I was always more like my father, an academic.

However, you are right, I am also very organized like my mother.

An outside point of view was quite interesting.

"I bet when you were little they saw you as the best of them all." Your

parents wanted you to overcome yourself a little bit, but a little bit because it was a reflection of

both.

"Perhaps," I answered slowly. That was more of an outsider perception to be

stored deep in the brain and analyzed later. "You're not just a pretty face,

isn't it, Day?

***

In English, mile-high club. In the beginning, being part of this “club” was a joke between pilots and flight attendants. today if

refers to anyone who has had sex on board an airplane.