That gave him pause, and he blinked down at me. "Your inner Tigress?"

"That's right." A slow smile spread, and I was sure it lit my entire face. "My inner Tigress. She's fierce and bloodthirsty and brave."

He spread his fingers over my head, feeling for a bump. "I think you hit your head a little too hard."

"Careful, or I might have to scratch you to death."

"I might let you, but it depends on where you want to scratch me," he muttered. He frowned and shook his head. "I'm taking you home, Naomi. No," he said when I opened my mouth to protest. "The thought of watching you faint dead away once more makes me shudder. I'll help you overcome your fear another way."

"Please, Royce."

"I said no arguments. That means no pleading, begging, crying or cajoling. And no wetting those luscious lips."

I planted my fists on my hips, my determination increasing with every second that passed. "Either you go with me or I pay someone else to take me and go alone. That's your choice."

"Damn it, Naomi." He let out a forceful breath. "How do you feel about riding in a large company jet instead of a small aircraft?"

I mulled it over, then nodded. I could pretend the large jet was a hotel room and hopefully forget I was soaring thousands of feet in the air, ready to crash at- "Uh, much better."

"My crew can have it ready to go in half an hour if you don't mind waiting."

The force of my relief was almost tangible. "But what about you? Do you mind not being the pilot?"

"I mind-I wanted to impress you, but I'll live through it."

He hustled me inside an air-conditioned room, then made a quick call.

It didn't take the thirty minutes he'd predicted. His flight crew had the Gulfstream ready in twenty. And, God help me, I boarded it.

Once inside the large craft, Royce gave me a tour. I couldn't help but gasp at the luxury. A soft, ivory wraparound couch graced the front entrance. A large-screen television was positioned overhead, perfect for viewing from a reclining position.

There was an office fully equipped with chairs, table and drawing board. Next, I entered a bathroom that was larger than mine at home. And last…the bottom of my stomach dropped out. My eyes widened as I took in the bedroom. It had a small, comfortable-looking mattress and glossy headboard with silk sheets and a soft comforter. The room was used for napping, I was sure, but that didn't matter to my brain.

I pictured Royce there, naked and beckoning me over with a seductive motion of his finger. I'm pretty sure I spent more time imagining Royce naked than I did anything else. If only I could get paid for fantasizing about him… Oh well. On with the fantasy: His bronzed skin glistened against the soft, white sheets. His entire body was hard. Hot. Ready. He continued to motion me over with a crook of his finger, wicked intent in his eyes.

I gulped.

"Let's get ready for takeoff." The real-life Royce placed one hand on my waist, and the contact sent currents of desire down my spine.

I didn't move. Couldn't. My gaze slashed up and collided with his. How could I get so worked up, so quickly?

He sucked in a breath. "Or if you'd rather wait and do other things," he murmured, "I'm all for that."

We stayed completely still for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts, thoughts that were too naughty to voice. Thankfully-and with much effort-I collected my wits. This wasn't the time; this wasn't the place. Distance. I needed distance. I stepped back, trying to act annoyed, though I was tempted to take what he offered. Always tempted.

"Not on your life," I managed. "I want to get this flight over with."

His fiery stare lingered on my lips for a long while. "Too bad. Maybe next time."

Taking my hand, he led me to the wraparound sofa and latched my seat belt into the proper hook. My body began to tremble. I was careful to keep my expression blank, passive, lest he tried to halt the trip. I had to prove to myself that I could do this. That fear didn't rule me.

"It takes courage to face your fear," he said. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you." I was proud of myself, too.

After several minutes, the engines roared to life and the plane jostled, going slowly at first, then picking up speed as it moved down the runway. The captain said something over the speaker. My ears were ringing again, so all I heard was "Mmmm-mm mmmm-mmm."

"If the plane collides with the ocean, there's a very good chance the sharks will eat me alive."

"We're not flying over an ocean. We're flying over mountains."

"Even worse! Mountains have bears." I clutched Royce's hand and stiffened-if it was possible to become any more rigid than I already was. I looked ahead, knowing my complexion grew greener by the second. Silver lining: green was Royce's favorite color. I probably seemed like a goddess of beauty to him. "What if the pilot doesn't see one because the snowcaps look like clouds and he slams us right into it?"

"Then I swear to God I'll fire him." Royce clasped my chin and lowered his head. His lips met mine; his tongue swept inside without waiting for permission.

Hmm, delicious. My fears slowly diminished as thoughts of crashing were replaced with thoughts of sweaty bodies, tangled limbs and gasping pleasure. Royce tasted like pure sin today, hot and masculine with a dash of the forbidden. Maybe his saliva possessed an addictive chemical and that's why I couldn't get him out of my mind.

It was possible.

Within minutes, we were soaring through the air. To be honest, I barely noticed that we had taken off. Who cared, anyway? If I died today, it would be with a smile on my face. Royce certainly knew how to kiss.

Oh, did he know how to kiss.

He used his entire body. His hands. His chest. His legs. His masculinity consumed me, making me feel as if his whole existence was centered around me. Maybe it was. What a refreshing change from Richard's how-far-can-I-get-my-tongue-down-your-throat-before-I-can-get-into-your-pants kisses.

His hand moved to my breast, plumping and kneading. He groaned. I moaned. The sounds traveled over me, heating my blood. How easy it would be for him to shove down my pants and take me, I thought dazedly. How easy…and how wonderful. I spread my legs, about to beg him to touch me there. I ached so, so much.

He suddenly tore away, completely releasing me. His hands fisted at his sides. His breathing was shallow, quick, just like mine.

"One day soon, Naomi, I'm going to show you just how much pleasure I can give you. And neither one of us will be able to walk for a week."

Chapter Eleven

Be aware. Always aware. A Tiger will create a distraction on one side of the jungle to better attack you on the other.

Unfortunately, we were still on the plane half an hour later. Silence stretched between us. It had been like that since our kiss had ended, and I didn't know why. I didn't know why he had pulled away, why he was now ignoring me. Had I done something wrong? Did he know something about the plane that I didn't?

Fear slowly began to take root in my mind again. I couldn't fight it. I was soon squeezing my eyes shut, refusing to look out the windows behind or in front of me. Images of blood and death poured through my mind. I jerked completely upright. We were on a path to certain death. Royce remained stiff at my side. He knew the plane was about to crash, the sick bastard, but didn't know how to tell me. That was why he was still so tense.

We were going to die! I just knew it. Big breath in. Big breath out. Big breath in. Big breath out. Dizziness assaulted me.

I forced myself to calm down before I had a major panic attack. I tried to meditate, to imagine a tranquil meadow with lush green foliage, just like Jonathan had taught me. It had never worked before, but this time I actually felt a summer breeze caressing my skin like the brush of a feather. A small measure of peace settled over me-until the aircraft careened and rattled. A loud popping sounded.