Wings of Love

Overview

THE HECK WITH BUSINESS!

After shocking her coworkers, both in the tower and air over Custom Aero, with her newly certified skill in aerobatics, Kelly Benson meets her fiance on the tarmac to diffuse his angry response with a big kiss. The tables, however, are turned on her when she discovers the man in Ken's jumpsuit and flight glasses, who kisses her back quite soundly isn't her fiance, but her new boss! Having gotten off on decidedly shaky footing, Kelly and Mac agree - no ...

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Paperback GOOD Paperback-9781878702302 [SUMMERS, CHLOE] NO EASY TASK (KM #34)

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Bensalem, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. 1991 Mass Market Paperback First Paperback Printing Good Brief summary of content available on request by e-mail.

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Overview

THE HECK WITH BUSINESS!

After shocking her coworkers, both in the tower and air over Custom Aero, with her newly certified skill in aerobatics, Kelly Benson meets her fiance on the tarmac to diffuse his angry response with a big kiss. The tables, however, are turned on her when she discovers the man in Ken's jumpsuit and flight glasses, who kisses her back quite soundly isn't her fiance, but her new boss! Having gotten off on decidedly shaky footing, Kelly and Mac agree - no more shenanigans, aerobatic or otherwise, at Custom Aero - strictly business.

But all is fair in love and war. Unwittingly, Kelly made a direct hits on the ex-fighter pilot and Desert Storm hero's heart every time she came near him and felt the reverberations herself. Mac is trained to recognize a prime target - one feisty blonde pilot with a wit as sharp as her skill; find its weakness - her obvious second thoughts about setting a wedding date with her current fiance; and take it out - marry her before she knows what hit her-literally!

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Editorial Reviews

Debra Fitch
Kelly Benson was employed as a corporate pilot by Custom Aero. Dan Mooney, the owner, was affectionately called "Uncle Dan" by Kelly. When Kelly left for her two-week vacation, she expected to return in triumph with the news she had passed her aerobatics training and a month left before Uncle Dan retired. Well, she did return with the good news, but Uncle Dan had experienced medical problems and the new president, James "Mac" Mackenzie already at the helm.

I won't tell you how and I skip A LOT when I say Mac virtually kidnaps Kelly and tricks her into marriage. Of course, there are a couple of bad/jealous people to spice things up even more between the hero and heroine.

This is one you will DEFINITELY want to get for your "to be read" pile!
Huntress Book Reviews

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781878702302
  • Publisher: Meteor Publishing Corporation
  • Publication date: 2/1/1991
  • Pages: 224

First Chapter

Chapter One
The visibility was magnificent. So few people could appreciate the true beauty of the Texas landscape without a panoramic bird's-eye view, and that's exactly what Kelly Benson had. Lush green hills, forested with, sweet gum, cypress, ash, and oak, to mention only a few, sloped down to turquoise lakes, dotted with white sails. Geometric citrus plantations, their fields meticulously organized grids, and breathtakingly beautiful rose farms added color only mother nature could paint on such a canvas. Bluebonnets grew wild in the meadows where cattle grazed lazily on the summer day, not bothering to stir as her single-engine plane swooped low for a closer look.
There was hardly a cloud in the intense blue sky that matched the shade of the young woman's eyes as the Cessna 150 cut a lazy path, the sun reflecting off of its shiny polished sides. Upon seeing some men on equipment in a green sorghum field, she made a circle and tipped the Cessna's wings in greeting before pushing on toward Corpus Christi.
A smile spread on her tanned face, one that would have dazzled the waving farmhands below if they could have seen it. Her spirits were as high as her plane and it showed in the sparkle of her eyes, which were shaded by the curved tinted aviator's glasses she wore. Pale blonde hair cut in a stylish and easy-care wedge bounced as she tossed her head back and laughed. How shocked they would be to see that the pilot of the plane was a girl--just as shocked as the guys back at the hangar were going to be when she told them she had passed her aerobatics training.
She hadn't told then how she was going to spend her vacation from Custom Aero, where she was employed as a corporate pilot, or where she had been going every weekend for what seemed like months and months. It had taken up every spare cent she had, but the thrill was worth it. She lived for the excitement of flying. It was and had been her life and main source of income for six years. Her mastery of aerobatics, or trick flying, was just icing on the cake, although she knew even more advanced levels lay ahead for her.
The shimmering blue waters of the Gulf loomed ahead, limitless to the eastern horizon. Breaking in the distance was the skyline of Corpus Christi. Of course, Kelly would not veer north to the corporate airfield until circling beyond the staggered cluster of buildings, which appeared like a toy city below, without first taking her favorite sweep over Padre Island. The bathers at the national park looked like ants moving under and around brightly designed umbrellas in front of the pavilion. While further down-the bleached white dunes, sea oats and morning glories survived heartily on unspoiled, shifting sands.
As the Cessna left the barrier island that guarded the coast and set its course for the Custom Aero airfield, Kelly turned up the volume of her transceiver to monitor the company frequency. Ahead lay the fenced-in acres of the site where custom work of almost any nature imaginable was done on aircraft of all types. Custom Aero's engineers were among the sharpest in the world and their factory was known for its excellent work. Individuals with thousands to millions to spend, or companies with specific needs patronized the multimillion dollar corporation that had grown from a small business Dan Mooney and her father, George Benson, had founded thirty years ago.
Dan Mooney had put up the money, but it was her father who was the technical brain of the team. They had been equal partners until her father died of a heart attack. Her mother, an attractive Swedish woman of forty, inherited his half of the company. The inheritance was as much an attraction as her mother's fair beauty, so it wasn't long before she remarried, a marriage that was the woman's undoing. Then, in less than five years, her new husband had robbed her of her inheritance and her pride.
Kelly had only been sixteen, but she still remembered the day Uncle Dan had bought out her mother's share of the business when she was forced to liquidate her stock in order to pay off Harold Carson's gambling debts. Kelly had driven her mother to the attorneys' office that day because, as usual, her mother was too intoxicated to operate the car. She watched for two more years as her mother destroyed herself or what was left, after the opportunist had run off with another older widow with a hefty inheritance with alcohol. Yet, even on her deathbed, Marta Benson had loved the handsome fortune hunter.
To this day, Kelly could not understand how her mother could have been so foolish. The young playboy had used her. He had treated her abominably. He had even propositioned eighteen-year-old Kelly, something Kelly never told her mother, just before he deserted them both. Kelly had spat in his face, venting all the pent-up anger that had festered as she watched her mother waste away.
Never would she ever be victim to a man like that, she'd vowed as she stood by her mother's grave side. Never would she expose her heart to men. They were not to be trusted, especially the good-looking ones. As she grew older, she realized that when her father and Uncle Dan had been made, the mold had been broken. No one ever measured up to their standards. And then she met Ken Hudson.
Ken was chief engineer at the plant, having worked his way up from a junior level. He was as fiercely aggressive in his field as Kelly was accused of being in hers--never satisfied until they had reached the top. Their similar interests had brought them together. After much consternation, Kelly overlooked the fact that he was the typical tall, dark, and handsome type. She knew he wasn't pursuing her for money, since her job as corporate pilot provided her only income and her small Cessna was her only asset other than her mother's Nordic stature and coloring. So when he proposed, she accepted. Both career-oriented, they agreed to set the date after Uncle Dan's retirement when Ken became Custom Aero's president, which was supposed to happen at the end of the month. "Cessna seven-niner-zero, how ya doin'!"
Kelly grinned and took up the mike in her hand. "I just can't sneak up on you guys, can I?" She had forgotten she had turned on her transponder, a device which automatically let the tower know her identification and location. "Cessna seven-niner-zero responding. Are the friendly skies crowded today?"
"We got Citation one-zero-six in the air, but you got plenty of clearance, sweetheart. It's a plu-perfect day. Come in any way your little heart desires."
"They're finished, are they?" Kelly shot back, referring to Ken's latest accomplishment: a modification of a Citation twin turbojet such as the corporation used, which needed a loading bay for light equipment transport.
"Testing her out. You're all clear."
"Keep me that way, fellas, I got something to show ya!" Kelly laughed, her melodic voice reduced to monotone static over the airwaves.
She pulled on her safety helmet and fastened the chin strap before flying by the tower and climbing. The special Lycoming engine seemed to growl as Kelly performed an outside loop to perfection and leveled off to fly over again.
"Cessna seven-niner-zero, have you gone bonkers?"
"Am I still clear?" Kelly asked, gaining altitude for a hammerhead stall.
"No, you're nuts!"
She laughed to herself. She knew it was showing off, but she couldn't help it. Besides, Pete Snyder was always so blasé and monotone. There was nothing any of the pilots loved any more than to get him flustered. So intent was her concentration as she put the plane through the paces for a spine-chilling hammerhead stall, she did not pay attention to the Citation requesting clearance for a northwest approach. With the cool demeanor that she was known for, she visually took its position into consideration. In a clipped voice, she picked up the mike.
"Tell lover boy to hold on, Tower."
The thought that Ken would be livid brought a mischievous twinkle to Kelly's eyes. Her pulse raced in excitement at the silence of the powerful engine and the reeling pitch of the descent. To an untrained eye, the fall looked fatal. Then, at the precise moment, Kelly pulled out of it, the Lycoming roaring to life on cue.
"What the--!" a static voice thundered over the radio. The other expletives were not fit for the ears of a lady, but having flown over fifteen hundred hours, she had heard all at one time or another.
"Cessna seven-niner-zero coming in tower. I passed my aerobatics course!" she added in delight.
The clearance was terse. For a moment Kelly frowned. Pete was always a good sport. It struck her odd that he didn't fall in with congratulations when she told him what she had done. The landing was smooth. As she taxied over to the hangar, where she was allowed to keep her private plane, the Citation was making its descent. She left the helmet on, which boasted the graduation from the flight school on the emblazoned decal across the front, and climbed out of her plane.
"You're in for it!" Mickey, one of the hangar mechanics, called out as she waved at him and started jogging off in the direction of the hangar where the Citation was taxiing.
Her khaki jumpsuit moved with each long and graceful step she took, inviting looks of admiration from the mechanics watching her. By the time she crossed the distance, Ken and Doug Stevens, the head mechanic at Custom Aero, were emerging from the plane. At the sight of her, Ken strode angrily ahead of Doug, his fists clenched on either side of his navy blue flightsuit. Just as he reached her, Kelly yanked off her helmet and ran her finger across the label for him to read. He stopped short, unable to check the curse that was already on its way out.
"Oh, stop being such a spoil sport and kiss me," she teased, throwing her arms about his neck and gazing up at his mirrored sunglasses before adding huskily, "I promise I'll make up for scaring you later."
The disgruntled man grabbed her with a little more force than she expected and covered her mouth with his. As Kelly gasped at the intensity of his kiss---she had only meant a buss on the cheek and was not one to openly display this sort of ardent affection in public--he deepened it, invading her mouth with a bold exploration that he had never tried before. From the sudden heated rush that swept through her, it was just as well he hadn't, she thought wildly. It was Doug's laughter that brought her out of her shock enough to push away from her fiancé, a crimson flush of indignation coloring her cheeks.
"Ken!" she admonished, flashing a cutting look at Doug that did not alter his amusement.
"Mac, actually, but why bother with small details at this point?" The man who was not her fiancé, she realized to her mortification, pulled off his sunglasses to reveal hazy grey eyes that leisurely assessed her-five-foot-ten figure in such a way that her whole face soon matched her cheeks.
Kelly was speechless. He was about Ken's height, perhaps a bit taller, and had the same black, hair. She should have missed Ken's mustache, she reprimanded herself furiously. But he did have Ken's name tag on. She wished the earth would open up and swallow her. The man surely thought she was an idiot, a brazen one at that.
"Ace, you left yourself wide open for that." Doug snickered, barely getting his amusement at her folly under control. "A lot has happened since you left two weeks ago. This is James Mackenzie, affectionately known to those close enough to kiss him as Mac."
Kelly swallowed hard and extended her hand. "I am terribly sorry. I thought you were my fiancé . . ."
"My pleasure, Miss . . ."
Kelly took off her glasses and smiled, the last thing she really felt like doing. "Benson, Mister Mackenzie. Kelly Benson. Is this your aircraft?"
She would try to carry on as if they had met conventionally, yet the shock of their encounter still left her legs weak. This man was dangerous warning signals flashed in red alert--and experienced with women from the way he had kissed her. Even now, she felt naked under the cool assessment of those grey eyes.
'Tm acting president of Custom Aero until the elections next week, Miss Benson. At which time the Board of Directors election will officially choose me."
Kelly blanched at the news. "What? Where's Ken?" she asked Doug, turning away from James Mackenzie.
"In St. Louis on business," Doug answered, sobering completely. "Like I said, a lot has happened since you left us two weeks ago. Dan had another attack and sent his letter of resignation from the hospital."
"He's all right now?" Kelly asked, forgetting business.
She loved Dan Mooney like an uncle, although there was no blood relationship between them. He had been a pillar of strength for her, even though he did not do any more to support Marta Benson than purchase her stock When she needed to liquidate. Kelly never did understand the cool distance between her mother and Uncle Dan, but had accepted it.
"He's home now . . . still a bit weak," Doug informed her.
With a grim face, Kelly tucked her helmet under her arm. "I think I'll run over and see him." As she started to turn, a hand gripped her arm, restraining her.
"Now, hold on a minute, young lady. I want to get this little matter of your circus act resolved. What right do you have coming in here, flying like a maniac in a private airport?"
"She's one of the corporate pilots, Mac," Doug cut in, sucking in his cheek to stifle his smile at the brief flash of astonishment on his new boss's face.
Kelly had seen it before. Being a female in a basically male profession had its pitfalls. Chauvinism ran rampant in the hangars and on the airfields, although most of it was good-natured. The fact that she was a willowy blonde with model-like features had not helped her, but her easygoing manner and skill usually overcame it in time.
Instead of the usual biting remark, Mac Mackenzie laughed and it was not one that made Kelly feel at ease. Whatever his private joke was, he was not about to share it. Maintaining his smile, a white, even one against a sun-bronzed face that drew her attention to how attractive his mouth was, he spoke.
"In that case, see me in my office in one hour."
Kelly would have objected, reminded him that she was not to go back to-work officially until the following day, but she had managed to stir up enough trouble as it was. Instead, she shook his hand firmly again.
"Until then, sir," she responded in a professional tone, fighting the urge to salute. A picture of his reaction if she did crossed her mind and her lips turned up in amusement as she turned to face Doug. "I owe you one," she threatened, condemning him for permitting her to make a fool of herself.
As she walked away, she was aware that James Mackenzie's eyes were still on her. She was accustomed to men looking at her. Her height alone drew attention. Yet she rarely paid it any heed. Men were men. They had eyes and they stared, but it didn't usually go any further than that. She had a certain aloofness that warned them off. She was not stuck up, by any means. She was always a friendly clown around her comrades of the airways, but she possessed a certain demeanor that was no-nonsense when it came to a typical come-on.
At least she had, she thought miserably, until she invited a perfect stranger to kiss her and promised to make up for startling him later her boss, no less. What if he was going to fire her! Kelly groaned inwardly as she picked up her suitcase at the hangar entrance where Mickey had left it for her and walked over to the tower locker room.
As she entered the door, instead of bearing left, which would have taken her to the men's dressing area, she turned right. It was a small room with a couple of metal lockers, a wooden bench, and a tiled shower stall that had been partitioned off from the men's side when she had come aboard as the first female pilot to work for Custom Aero.
She slipped out of her clothing and shoved them into a laundry bag on top of her overstuffed suitcase. Not bothering with a robe, since she was the only one who used the room, she grabbed a towel from the canvas cart near the door, and stepped into the shower. Afterwards, she felt refreshed and as ready to face her new employer as she would ever be. Surely, he would see that she had been qualified to pull those stunts and understand how she had thought him to be Ken.
Ken. The thought of her fiancé brought a frown to her face. What on earth must he be feeling now? The position he had been slaving so hard for, putting in late hours when everyone else had gone home, was suddenly usurped by this Mac Mackenzie. He must be desolate. She would need to assure him that as far as she was concerned, the fact that he was still chief engineer made no difference to her. Holding off the wedding had been more his idea than hers anyway. She had gone along with it because it postponed something that, deep down, she still felt uncomfortable with.
Kelly frowned as she buttoned her silk blouse and tucked it in the jeans that had shrunk to skin tightness in the dryer. Mackenzie... James Mackenzie. Where had she heard that name, she puzzled, stepping into high-heeled western boots and dismissing her troubled thoughts about marriage as she always did when they began to monopolize her thinking. After all, she was twenty-four, almost twenty-five. In spite of the glamour and thrill of her job, she did want to settle down and have children.
Of course! James "Mac" Mackenzie! Kelly rolled her eyes heavenward and sat down. She had read articles he had authored in flying publications. His wife's firm had been instrumental in developing classified fighting planes for the government. A one-time mercenary fighter pilot, he had flown with Israel's best in the Seven Day War. What would an aeronautical whiz like James Mackenzie be doing at Custom Aero?
It really didn't matter. The facts were he was here, he was her boss, and she was in trouble. Hoping he had a sense of humor, Kelly left her things in her locker and, after a quick comb of her thick, ash blonde hair, pasted a smile on her face to meet her fate.
As she walked through the cafeteria on the first floor of the office complex, Kelly realized that her predicament was not a well-kept secret. Making a mental note to see Doug Stevens suffer, she made a face at the knowing grins that greeted her. She would determine just how funny her situation was after the meeting. Her hair bounced with her walk as she approached the reception desk to find out which office James Mackenzie had taken.
Since it was after four-thirty, Midge, Uncle Dan's secretary, had left for the day, but Kelly followed the sound of someone speaking in a familiar, rich tone that had embedded itself in her memory after only one meeting. Feeling like a Christian about to enter the lion's den, Kelly took a deep breath and knocked on the door that had been left ajar. Mackenzie's voice halted in mid sentence and then raised to beckon her. She saw that he had been talking into a tape recorder when she took the seat he indicated across the cherry desk and she grinned.
"I thought I was interrupting a meeting."
"Just catching up," he explained, his grey eyes flickering over her in approval. Suddenly, they became impersonal and he leaned forward on folded arms. "Miss Benson, that was one of the most ridiculous stunts I have ever had the misfortune to see outside of a circus. There will be no more of that in the future, is that understood?"
Kelly met his gaze equally, refusing to be intimidated. "I knew what I was doing, sir, but as you will," she condescended, her blue eyes becoming hard. She had been over-enthusiastic, she knew, but she didn't like the way he lorded his position over her.
Even with his executive jacket tossed carelessly across the arm of his leather chair and his tailored white shirt pulled open at the collar with his tie knotted halfway down to his trim waist, he was a commanding personality. His black hair was ruffled, apparently from running frustrated fingers through it, yet his stone-chiseled features demanded respect.
"I understand that you keep your private plane here on corporate property," he went on, ignoring her stab at defiance. "You seem to share a special privilege. Why is that?"
"I'm just likable, I guess."
Kelly could have bitten her tongue off. The quip had slipped out before she realized what it was she had said. She needed this job. Equal opportunity or no, it was hard to come by good paying jobs like this if one was a female. She felt like a child as the grey eyes properly reproached her. "Are you always this glib?"
She held up her hands in surrender. "Wait, please. Just for a moment, put yourself in my position. Your new employer, whom you didn't even know existed, catches you practicing aerobatics on his airfield, even though you took all the required precautions," she offered in her defense, "and when he approaches you, you invite him to kiss you, thinking that he is your fiancé, because you did have on Ken's flightsuit . . ."
"I borrowed it to try out the Citation," he injected for the record.
Kelly's face contorted in frustration. "Well, wouldn't you be the least little bit nervous?"
His laugh made her release her breath in relief. "You're as daring on the ground as you are up there, you know that, Kelly Benson?" There was a distinct change in his eyes as the gaze intensified, bringing an irritating color to her cheeks that she did not understand. "And, if you weren't so darned cute about it, you probably wouldn't have a job right now."
He got up and walked around the desk, indicating the interview was over. Kelly hadn't realized how broad his shoulders were. Jumpsuits had a way of exaggerating one's build, but this tapered ' shirt left no detail to the imagination. She could even see the imprint of the crisp dark hair under the fine weave of the expensive material. Her inadvertent study became another source of embarrassment as she saw in his wryly amused face that it had been noticed.
She knew he was going to try to kiss her. It was instinctive. It was not, however, that knowledge that made her react, but the fact that her pulses were beginning to leap and race through her veins as though she were still in that hammer head stall. Her hands reached out to rest lightly against his chest and then withdrew as if the warmth of his body had burned them.
"You needn't bother to kiss me to earn my forgiveness for your bullish demands," she blurted out, scoring a victory at the brief registry of surprise in his eyes.
The victory was short-lived. Kelly braced for the offensive as his arms encircled her, pulling her against his hard chest. She closed her eyes-and schooled her features to appear cool and composed as his head lowered over hers. Nothing happened. When she could stand it no longer, she opened her eyes ever so slightly, peeking through the slits of her dark-lashed lids. They widened even more.
Then the laughter was gone and just as quickly, his lips claimed hers in a sensuous assault that nearly brought her strong defenses crashing down. Where she found the strength to impose indifference on her expression and force a cool note to her voice, she did not know. Survival instinct perhaps, she guessed, as he released her.
"Well, now you have that out of your system, we can begin on a normal employer-employee relationship."
"Are you capable of any kind of normal relationship?" he countered, that lazy smile returning to those sense-searing lips.
"Of course, I am. I will expect you to treat me just like you would if I were one of your regular pilots."
"Good. Then I will meet you at the Hangar for a drink at eight tonight."
"I'm engaged!" Kelly protested incredulously, "You said treat you as if you were one of my pilots. Sometimes we go out and have a drink...talk flying. That's exactly what I had in mind since we have the kissing out of our system, as you put it. On my honor!" he swore, holding up his hand as if taking an oath.
Kelly narrowed her eyes warily. "Have you any honor?"
"None. I am totally unscrupulous."
Again, her eyes widened and she began to wonder who was shocking whom. It was a challenge. She could all but see gauntlets in each of his eyes.
Slowly, the comer of her mouth turned up and her lashes dipped in an unintentionally provocative answer as her lips voiced it. "All right, Mac. Just a couple of guys having a drink."
"Good show," Mac grinned, giving her a hearty slap on her back that Kelly was certain had left a red hand print.
This was going too far, she thought heatedly, yet she kept her silence. She was as adept at outmaneuvering maneuvers as he apparently was at engineering them. She could prove her ability as a pilot and win his respect. As for the sexual overtones, she hadn't earned the nickname the boys had dubbed her with behind her back for nothing. The Valkyrie, the cold Viking warrior maid, had just begun to do battle.

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