Page 7 of Air Affair

It wasn’t wise to tempt fate like that over and over, but the thought of finishing his engineering degree and taking a desk job filled him with dread. He wasn’t ready yet. The rush was addictive, and he couldn’t let it go.

As he came to a halt, the cadets cheered and ran over to the plane, almost distracting him from an expensive black car that drove up and stopped in the distance. A chauffer discharged two passengers, one a man, one a woman. Some sixth sense prickled the hair on the back of his neck. Who were they, and why did they make him so damned nervous?

He went through his landing checks mechanically, describing aloud what he was doing, then he climbed down to rejoin the group of starry-eyed recruits who insisted on slapping him on the back and shaking his hand.

Behind the cadets was a stranger in uniform—a major in the Army Air Service, judging from the man’s epaulets. He had a thick mustache and dark, piercing eyes. His posture and bearing were unmistakably aristocratic. Beside him was a blonde with a suspiciously familiar silhouette, wearing a powder-blue confection that matched her eyes. No. It couldn’t be.

“Ah, there you are, Lieutenant Hawley,” said Major Fleet. “Major Belmont here arrived just in time to see your performance.” Hank jumped to attention, surreptitiously checking Major Belmont for a gun. Sweat trickled down his back. He forced himself to smile. Simply delighted to meet you, sir. Never mind that your daughter and I had a little rendezvous last night in this very hangar.

Major Belmont smiled back. “I brought my daughter, Aurora, with me. She’s fascinated by airplanes and insisted I bring her along.”

She smiled and nodded at Hank with cool distance, as if he was a stranger. Well, what did he expect? A kiss?

“Hawley here is the best pilot we have,” said Major Fleet. “He served under me in France. I brought him home to the States when we launched airmail service back in May. He’s been with us from the start.”

Princess Rory was looking around at anything but him. He would do well to watch the two majors instead of her, he reminded himself. As he dragged his eyes away, she met his gaze for a split second. Something crackled and sparked within him in that moment, just as it had last night. Did she feel it too? Whatever this was, it was too dangerous to indulge.

Fortunately, her father seemed not to have noticed.

“Major Belmont, I have to ask,” said Fleet, “what brings you out here today? It’s always a pleasure to see you, but we weren’t expecting you.”

Major Belmont shrugged. “I had a free morning and wanted to see how this airmail experiment was going. By the way, how much longer do you think you’ll be using my racetrack as an airstrip? I’m happy to support the cause and all, but the noise of the airplanes scares the horses.”

“I don’t know, Major. We’re working as quickly as possible on an alternative. If the postmaster general had only given us a chance to prepare properly before starting service⁠—”

“No need to explain, Major. I still don’t know how you got this operation up and running on such short notice. It’s nothing short of a miracle if you ask me. When the war is over, you come look me up. A man like you could go far.”

Major Fleet smiled. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As if Major Fleet needed a millionaire to give him a leg up. As if he hadn’t climbed the ranks and earned the same rank that Belmont bought. The condescension was astonishing!

“Papa?” Princess Rory said, putting her hand on her father’s arm. “Do you suppose that nice gentleman over there—” she pointed at Hank, and his heart stopped, “—might be willing to show me one of the planes? You know how I love to see them up close.”

Major Fleet answered by calling out, “Lieutenant Hawley. The young lady wants to see one of our Jennies. Can you show her while the major and I catch up? O’Donnell, Pritchard, take the cadets and walk them through the steps for landing with engines cut.”

She sauntered over and took his arm, as if she were strolling through the park with her beau. The intoxicating scent of magnolias wafted over to him. He did his best not to flinch at her touch.

Clearing his throat, he led her over to the nearest Jenny. “Miss Belmont⁠—”

“Rory,” she corrected quietly.

“Not on your life,” he murmured for her ears only. “Your father’s standing right there.”

She smiled. “Show me the airplane, Lieutenant Hawley,” she said aloud.

“Of course, Miss Belmont,” he answered in a loud enough voice to carry to the majors.

She dug her nails into his arm. Lovely fingers. Flawless manicure. Her nails were the palest of pinks.

“This model of plane is called⁠—”

“A Jenny, short for Curtiss JN-4, manufactured up in Buffalo by Curtiss Aeroplane and Motor Company based on a design by Glenn Curtiss and B. Douglas Thomas. It has a Hispano-Suiza 8 V-8 engine with one hundred-fifty horsepower and a maximum speed of seventy-five miles per hour. It has a wingspan of forty-three feet seven inches and a length of twenty-seven feet four inches. It’s nine feet eleven inches high and weighs just over a ton empty.”

He swallowed hard.

She trailed her fingers along the fuselage, and it took all his concentration to avoid imagining those fingers on his own flesh. Dorothy. Focus on Dorothy. Poor Dorothy. I’ll have to let her down easy.

“I want to learn to fly, you see, but Father won’t let me.” She looked at the plane with the same hungry reverence he felt the first time he was close to one. If man could fly, then he had to try it. From the moment he set eyes on the rickety contraption, he was lost. If only Benny hadn’t been bitten by the same bug.