Love at First Flight Read Free Page B

big room. “In a minute.”
    “Don't be long.”
    Juliana heard the shower go on just as
Jeremy's cell phone rang. Wondering why he had bothered to turn it back on and
who would be calling him so early on a Saturday, she reached for the phone on
the bedside table. “Hello?” Silence.
    “Hello?” Juliana said again.
    When there was still no answer, she
closed the phone to check the caller ID. “Jule! Come on.”
    Juliana walked into the bathroom. “Jer?”
His hair full of shampoo, he pulled the curtain aside. “What?”
    “Who's Sherrie?”

CHAPTER 3

    PAIGE POUNCED THE MOMENT SHE AND MICHAEL
WERE in her champagne-colored Mercedes coupe.
    “Whoa!”
    She wrapped herself around him as best
she could in the tiny car. “Kiss me, Michael.”
    Michael glanced at the people getting
into the car next to them. “Not here.”
    “One kiss?” she pouted.
    That pout rendered him defenseless, and
she knew it. He leaned in to kiss her and was hit by a surge of lust. The only
area of their relationship that never gave them any trouble was their ability
to fire each other up with just a touch, a look, or in this case, a kiss. When
her eager tongue wound around his, he groaned and tore himself away. “Hold on,
honey.”
    Her hand landed in his lap. “If you
insist,” she said with a saucy smile.
    He grabbed her hand just as it reached
its destination. “Paige! Stop!”
    She flopped back into her seat. “What's
your problem , Michael? We haven't
seen each other in a month, for Christ's sake.”
    “And whose fault is that?”
    She started the car and backed out of
the parking space with only the briefest of glances behind her. “I've been busy
planning your wedding. I can't just come
up there any old time you want me to. Besides, the last time I was there you
were so busy with work I hardly saw you.”
    “If you hadn't moved down here, we
wouldn't be having this discussion, now would we?”
    Fuming, Paige handed a five-dollar bill
to the parking attendant. “Here we go,” she muttered.
    Her two-carat diamond engagement ring
sparkled under the lights of the tollbooth. As it occurred to Michael yet again
that he would be paying for that ring for the next three years, he couldn't
help but wonder if the marriage would last that long. The thought startled him.
When exactly had he begun to have all these doubts?
    They drove north on Interstate 95 in
silence.
    After a while he reached for her hand
and was relieved to feel her fingers tighten around his. That blew over faster than usual. He truly loved Paige. She could
be so sweet and generous, but just as often she could be a spoiled brat. He was
seeing more and more of that side of her as they planned their wedding.
Unfortunately, his family had seen just enough of it to give them serious
reservations about his plans to marry her.
    Resting his head back, he realized how
exhausted he was. The trial preparations were kicking his ass, and the idea of
spending the weekend with the Admiral, Mrs. Simpson, and two hundred of their
closest friends sucked what little energy he had right out of him. What he
really needed this weekend was sleep.
    Paige took the exit for A1A on the way
to Amelia Island where she lived with her parents in a six-thousand-square-foot
home so sprawling they'd installed an intercom system so they could find each
other. Raised with three sisters in a six-room ranch house, Michael thought the
Simpson's home was obscene. Nearly everything about their lifestyle offended
him, but since he and Paige would be living far away from her parents after
they were married, he didn't care how they chose to live.
    “I'm sorry,” Paige said softly. “I don't
want to fight this weekend.”
    He kissed her hand. “Neither do I, but
I'm really fried, hon. The trial has me by the balls.”
    “How's it going?”
    That she bothered to ask told him she
was trying. “It's getting close. I've got to write my opening at some point
this weekend.”
    “Not while you're here! We've