Seven Forbidden Arts #2
All that Russian aeromancist Lann Dréan wants, is to enjoy a month of peace in the privately owned convent in Santiago he is turning into a home. When an American literature student walks into his library of ancient books, his holiday intentions change. The untouchable Lann is inexplicably enraptured. For all his famed control, he cannot stay away from Katherine White.
Gifted with a hunted talent and a price on his head, the best Lann can offer Kat are thirty days of unrivalled passion before returning to his paranormal crime taskforce in New York. If Kat consents to his terms, she will agree to walk away on Day Thirty. Forever. But his uncontainable desire comes with an unforeseen price.
Release Date: May 14, 2015
Lann Dréan didn’t take pleasure in his flight, as he should. The usual peace the Russian aeromancist enjoyed when up in the air was ruined by the female passenger of the glider in front of him, and the jackass stunts of her pilot, Frank. Lann knew the slipstreams, winds and thermals like a mother knew her baby, and when they were down, Lann was going to give Frank a piece of his mind for endangering their lives—especially a passenger’s. Of course it didn’t help that the little hell’s angel encouraged Frank.
Her laughter reached his headphones.
“Can you go higher, or faster?” she said to Frank.
Frank chuckled. “I’d like to show off, but I’ve got to work with the wind. Faster is not an option. Higher could get us killed.”
Frank was right. He was gliding on the wave lift that pushed off the peaks of the Santiago Andes, and he was at maximum altitude for what conditions allowed.
The click of her tongue was mockingly remorseful. “And they told me you were the best.”
Lann snorted at that.
Frank’s glider dipped sideways. Too steep. The maneuver evoked an ecstatic female cry. Lann didn’t have to check his instruments to know the risk was uncalculated.
Frank leveled the yawning glider. It bumped as it hit a downward airstream. The woman’s exclamation wasn’t any less excited. Lann cursed. She didn’t realize that the aircraft was heading for a nosedive. With a flick of his hand, he created a mini cyclone that reversed the flow, and the glider stabilized. He wasn’t supposed to use his ability to manipulate air unless it was during an approved and formal operation, but, even if it would serve Frank right to go into a tailspin, he wasn’t going to let the halfwit sacrifice his passenger.
Frank centered the yaw string three degrees too far west. His wing tipped right again.
Lann couldn’t help but cut in. “Watch your tail, Frank. Crosswind at twenty degrees west, fifteen knots.”
“Got it, Lann,” Frank said. “I’m trying to scare this kitten, but she’s doing serious damage to my ego.”
Frank straightened his glider with an abrupt movement, and the female giggled. She was enjoying the rough ride. She needed a good spanking for being irresponsible, and then Lann wouldn’t mind taking her on his own kind of ride. Her sense of flying adventure had ensnared him. No doubt, he could take her faster and higher. His cock twitched at the thought.
“I’m going in,” Frank said, making use of a colder air current to make his descent.
She uttered a small sigh of regret. “Already?”
“We’ve been up for almost an hour,” Frank said. “Hate to disappoint you, but my time’s up.”
Lann wasn’t planning on going down so soon, but he requested landing clearance anyway. He steered the aircraft into the next down-current and pointed the nose in the direction of the club airfield.
His landing was a bit hard on the tarmac, but it wasn’t because his hand was unsteady. His usual controlled temper threatened to explode. He needed to have a word with Frank.
The surge of adrenalin from the flight still rushed through Lann’s body as he lifted the dome and climbed down from the cockpit. Frank had taken the landing slot just before him. His glider was already parked in the hangar, both seats empty. Lann looked around for the pilot and his passenger. He spotted Frank where he leaned against the frame in the entrance of the hangar. His attention was focused on the female facing him. One hand gripped the wooden beam above him, his stance one that portrayed sexual interest. Whether the woman noticed or not, Lann couldn’t tell, because she had her back turned to him and he was too far away to hear what she was saying. But whatever it was, Frank found it amusing. He had a wolfish grin on his face. His reply made her laugh. The sound reached Lann where he stood on the tarmac. Her hand reached for the elastic in her hair. She freed red, thick curls from a ponytail and tilted her head up at Frank.
Lann pulled off his flying gloves. He lifted the wing of the Glaser-Dirks DG-808 as he waited for a ground assistant to arrive. The back view he had of the little hell rider scored ten on all counts. Her shoulders were proud and her full ass nicely filled her faded jeans.
She cocked her hip and lifted her hand in greeting. “Thanks.”
The word drifted to Lann on the air, clear as a bell.
“Anytime, honey,” Frank called after her.
She skipped three steps backward, then turned and strode down the runway.
Lann watched her approach from under hooded eyes. Striking blue eyes. Luscious lips. Honey-bronze skin. He loved the bounce in the walk. Made that ruby-red hair move in time to the swing of her hips. As she neared, he noticed the flush on her cheeks and the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. And then it happened. She moved the air for him. Sure as hell, the molecules around him started vibrating, touching him in ways he thought impossible. It was a legend. A myth of his kind. Nobody really believed a woman could do that to a man. And for a man possessed with air, it was more than an aphrodisiac. It was powerful, an all-consuming fantasy.
Oblivious to him, she bounced right on by him and headed for the car park. She got into a red Honda and turned the ignition. Music blasted from the open window. She flipped a pair of aviation sunglasses over her eyes, flung the car into gear and squealed the tires as she popped the clutch.
“Careful,” Frank said next to him, “you’re going to drop the wing.”
Lann ignored the jab. “Who’s that?”
“Dunno. Control said they had a passenger for me when I got here. First time I gave her a lift.” His lips turned up in one corner. “Sure hope it wasn’t the last.”
The private club allowed people to hitch flights with their qualified pilots in exchange for a donation. The funds were used to maintain the club and for general improvements of the grounds. Lann never took passengers up because he loved flying solo. That might just change. He could totally picture strapping her in, pulling the safety harness over her breasts and securing the clasp between her legs.
“Close your mouth,” Frank teased. “You’re drooling.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lann said. “That was a dangerous move up there.”
“I knew what I was doing.”
“You took a risk.”
“Isn’t that the whole idea of flying?”
“No,” Lann bit out.
“Why do you fly, Lann, if I may ask?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re a hell of a pilot, but you act like you’ve got a joystick up your ass.”
Up in the air was the only place where Lann had complete control. On the ground, his life was out of control often enough.
He regarded Frank with a cool expression. “You know I have to report you.”
“Go ahead.” Frank grinned. “You won’t be the first.”
“Risk your life if you must, but not a passenger’s.”
“Look, the girl gave me flack, alright? She wanted it wilder.” Frank pulled his shoulders up to his chin. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Not what you fucking did up there.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Maybe they should ban her from the club. I heard she gave Jimmy a go for his miles last weekend.”
Lann’s anger simmered another degree hotter. Jimmy owned a microlight. Everyone knew just how reliable those motorized kites were.
“Need a hand?” Frank said, already walking around the glider to grab hold of the other wing. “I’ll help you push her inside.”
Eager to get to the office, Lann accepted. After pulling a protective cover over the plane, he went back to the admin building to log his hours. He waited until Frank left, then walked to the reception desk where Steven, a young Cessna pilot accumulating hours for his commercial license, did weekend duty.
“That woman,” Lann nodded in the general direction of the gates, “who is she?”
Steven looked up. “The redhead?” He shrugged. “Never told me her name. Comes in a lot. She’s done all of them–acrobatics, Cessna, hang glider...”
Lann scanned the desk. “She must sign an indemnity form.”
Steven frowned. “Yeah.”
“Let me see it.”
“That’s against protocol—” Steven started, but when Lann leaned over the counter, he cowered. He removed a file from the shelf behind him and held it tentatively to Lann. “Can I get into trouble for this?”
Lann snapped the hardcover from Steven’s hand and flipped it open. He quickly paged through the indemnity forms. Only one woman had signed in that morning. He took note of the name and identity number and dropped the file on the desk.
He made it back to his Pagani in the parking lot and drove home fast, where he tapped into the paranormal crime taskforce’s database. Cain Jones, his boss, was going to fry his ass for using their resources on a private matter, but he’d first have to fly all the way from New York to Santiago first.
After searching the database for a while, Lann put his fingertips together and leaned back in his chair. Son of a bitch. According to Home Affairs records, the woman he was looking for didn’t exist.