Some Girls Do by Leanne Banks Page A

thirty minutes, she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder with her hand draped over his chest. Loath to disturb her, he inhaled her clean scent Her hair was soft against his jaw, and two of her fingers curled inside his shirt.
    She would croak if she could see herself right now, he thought, taking in the sight of her abandoned shoes on the floor, one foot tucked beneath her and her ugly navy blue dress revealing one of her thighs. Her breasts pressed against his arm. Snuggling against him, she sighed and her breath tickled his neck.
    Michael felt an odd tug inside him, somewhere between his chest and gut The thought struck him that he hadn't held a woman in a while. There'd been a few passionate meetings of bodies bent on physical release, but no tenderness since…since Katrina, and that had seemed eons ago. Katrina had been his fiancée before his business partner had betrayed him. He'd been a different man then. Michael had been cynical since his father had committed suicide and his mother had gone into the mental health facility, but a part of him, a stupid-ass part of him, had believed a little in that same fairy-tale crap Katie had imparted to Wilhemina.
    It was dangerous stuff. He'd learned the hard way and there was no way he would go down that road again.
    Katie sighed and shifted again. His arm was falling asleep. He should shove her back into her seat. But something stopped him, and he tilted his head back against the seat and willed the rest of him to go to sleep too.
    “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered in his ear, waking him forty-five minutes later.
    Michael's brain woke up faster than his arm, which felt as if it had fallen off. “Just a sec,” he murmured, rising to his feet and stepping into the aisle.
    Katie pushed her feet into her shoes and stood. Her blue eyes lowered to half-mast, her hair sleep-mussed, she reminded him of hot, steamy, take-all-night-long sex. Michael stared at her, blinking.
    Katie wobbled past him, lurching from side to side as she walked to the lavatory. He watched her falter and reached out to steady her. She looked over her shoulder. “Oops. Sorry.”
    “No problem,” he said, walking behind her.
    She struggled with the door and he pulled it open, resolving to never give her Valium again. She was much easier to handle when she was uptight and starchy. He waited outside the door, hearing her bump and swear inside the close confines of the small lavatory. He heard the splash of water, then he heard her fumble with the door before she burst out of the room and into his arms.
    She murmured a breathless apology. “That pill made me feel funny.”
    He nodded, hit by a swarm of sensations. She was soft and warm and her defenses were down. He wondered if she had any idea how seductive she was. “Let me help you back to your seat.”
    “I keep thinking the strangest things,” she said, then lowered her voice. “Like how on earth do people get in the mile-high club on a public jet?”
    He stared at her, certain he had misheard her. Katie Collins was the last person he would expect to even think such a thing, let alone say it. “Excuse me?”
    “The mile-high club,” she whispered: “How? Where—”
    “The lavatory,” he told her.
    Her eyes rounded and she glanced back at the small rest room. “You're joking. It's not possible. There's no room.”
    He chuckled and urged her down the aisle. “Where there's a will…”
    “I guess,” she said doubtfully, meandering forward. She wove her way to her seat and plopped down, immediately kicking off her shoes. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
    He sat next to her in his seat and she turned to look at him. He met her gaze warily. What now? he thought.
    “You know, you're a very good-looking man,” she told him.
    He swallowed a smile. “Is that so?”
    She nodded. “You are. You've got a great body,’’ she said, lifting her hand to his shoulder. “You are hot.”
    Despite the fact that he knew Katie was under