“Good,” she ground out, unwilling to admit how much that knowledge pleased her.
Without warning, he kissed her. His soft lips lingered a few seconds, drawing a moan from her, before he lifted and whispered, “Why can’t I keep my mouth off you, kitten?”
To Deanna, Jonas sounded truly baffled by his own reaction to her. Before she could attempt a witty comeback, he muttered, “Let’s go, before I forget my good intentions.”
She snorted and picked up her toiletry bag. “You have good intentions, huh?”
Jonas only shook his head and picked up her suitcase. Deanna surreptitiously eyeballed the strength of his bicep. She was very tempted to wrap both of her hands around his upper arm and give a little squeeze. Resisting wasn’t easy, but if she started touching the man, she wouldn’t stop at his bicep.
“If you don’t scoot, I intend to strip you naked and tie you to the bed.”
For once, Deanna decided to err on the side of caution.
As the plane started to take off, Deanna’s heart lodged in her throat. She gripped the arms of her seat and began to silently recite the Lord’s Prayer. When the plane shook a little, she gave up the prayer in favor of cursing. “Crap,” she muttered.
Jonas sent her a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, I’m not real fond of flying,” she admitted, clenching her eyes closed tight.
A hand covered hers, and curiosity forced Deanna to open her eyes. When she spied Jonas’s fingers slowly entwining with hers, she bit her lip and looked down at her lap. “Thank you.”
He leaned close and whispered, “Are you going to pass out? Throw up?”
The questions made her feel stupid, even though that hadn’t been his intention. “No,” she gritted out. “It’s not that bad. Just like my feet on the ground is all.”
“I’m sorry, kitten. I didn’t know.”
His gentle voice calmed her a bit. “It’s not something I’m good at owning up to.”
His thumb stroked over her knuckles. “Fear, you mean?”
“No,” she answered with complete honesty. “Weakness.”
Jonas laid his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “We all have our weaknesses, Deanna.”
Caught by his relaxed pose, Deanna took a moment to look her fill. The word strength described Jonas wonderfully. In fact, his picture probably sat next to it in the dictionary. As her gaze landed on his fly, Deanna had to swallow down the urge to reach out and cup the luscious bulge she spied there.
“Uh, even you?” she asked, picking back up on the conversation.
“I’m not made of stone,” he said. His voice sounded a littl
e drowsy, and it was all the sexier for it too. “I have my weaknesses.”
“Name one,” she demanded in disbelief.
He opened his eyes and looked over at her. “Promise not to laugh?”
“I’m gripping on to your hand for dear life because I’m terrified we’re going to crash. Trust me, I’m incapable of laughter at the moment.”
“Okay, but if you laugh, it’ll hurt my feelings.”
Deanna made a cross over her heart. “Swear to God and hope to die.”
“Ants.”
Sure her brain had processed something wrong, Deanna asked, “Huh?”
“I hate ants. Don’t like to look at them, don’t like them crawling on me.” He gave a mock shudder. “Can’t stand the little buggers.”