.38 Caliber Cover-Up. Angi Morgan

and blocked out the treetops serving as their backdrop.

      “Don’t freak out,” she whispered, dusting the top of his shoulders with her fingers. Letting her hands linger on his upper arms wasn’t his choice, but definitely kept her close enough so he couldn’t see his surroundings.

      She drew closer and closer. Each second was imprinted in his mind like a frame of a film. Her actions ticked away like a silent movie. Then her lips touched his. Nature conquered fear.

      His hands were on her slim, firm waist instead of the cool leather trimming the top of the basket. He couldn’t close his eyes completely. He watched her reaction, felt her body relax. She anchored them to the center brace in the basket, but arched her body toward him.

      He’d wanted to kiss her since first straddling her strong body the night before. His fingers inched up under the windbreaker to feel bare skin. No shirt. Interesting. They inched farther, exploring her cool silk, feeling her jump slightly, feeling her body move into his, feeling one of her hands flutter up his back.

      God, her lips were smooth and ideal. Her mouth was warm. A perfect fit. Everything was a perfect fit. They weren’t coming up for air. The kiss kept deepening. Her breasts pressed into his chest. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them and find out if they were a perfect fit, too.

      “Hey, d’Artagnan,” Sean shouted from below. “Come on down.”

      Darby drew back, leaving inches between them. Her finger caressed the outline of his ear, trailing down his neck and tapped the dagger charm hanging there.

      “You can sit now.” Did he imagine the huskiness in her voice? She broke away from his arms. “I need to open the parachute valve so we’ll descend.”

      Tops of balloons were to his left and nothing but air to his right. Tree tops were in the distance across the field as he stumbled back to the edge of the basket.

      His legs shook and his insides jumped, but was it from the height? Or a green-eyed witch who had taken him flying?

      Chapter Four

      “Time to face the firing squad.”

      Darby muttered under her breath, but Agent Rhodes shifted, letting her know he’d heard the sibling battle cry for facing their father.

      Agent Rhodes… Or should she think of him as Erren after that erotic kiss? She hadn’t meant the distraction to go so far. A little shock therapy to take his mind off his obvious fear of heights. And judging by the raised voices below, everyone had seen her complete enjoyment of his marvelous kissing ability.

      Unfortunately, her head was coming down out of the clouds rather quickly and her feet were about to hit the ground.

      “I can hear the Sergeant Major yelling at Sean for letting the balloon go up.”

      “Are you going to tell me who this Sergeant Major guy is?”

      Erren was still standing. A little rocky on his feet, but he looked much better than when she’d thought he was about to hurl. He made eye contact with her for the first time since their kiss. Whew, what a kiss. The man had a way to focus and bring concentrated effort to the task at hand. He’d been the one who could barely stand. But when her knees got a smidgen shaky, it was his arm steadying her, feeling its way around her waist, discovering there wasn’t a shirt under the jacket. Her body had quickly grown hot enough to keep the balloon in the air without propane, but taking anything off wasn’t an option….

      “Does your brother work for him?” Erren asked.

      It was probably time to break the bad news. “Sergeant Major is short for father. Three boys and one girl and we all refer to him as the Sergeant Major. Even though he’s retired, he’s still U.S. Army through and through.”

      “And you call him Sergeant Major?” he asked, with his eyes closed. Still unable to watch their surroundings.

      “You’ll know why in a few minutes.” Couldn’t he hear the yelling from directly below them? A controlled, raised voice. Nothing so loud the festival participants could hear, but a loud voice nonetheless. She couldn’t hear Sean’s responses yet, but they were almost to the ground. “You better let me do the talking when we land. My father doesn’t deal well with a change in his plans.”

      “I can handle it.”

      Erren looked steadier on his feet. The green hint of nausea was quickly being replaced by a shoulders-back, ramrod-spine, no-frills kind of guy. If she didn’t know any better, she would think Erren had exited the cabin of a military jet.

      “Got a rubber band or something?” He tugged at his hair, shoving the longish locks behind his ears.

      “Nothing.” She patted her pockets to make certain.

      “You did not say your sister was in the basket. She’s the one getting engaged?” The Sergeant Major’s voice boomed from beneath them.