Stealing Taffy (Bigler, North Carolina #3) - Susan Donovan Page 0,2

me.”

And just like that, he was hard. It had to be something about the words themselves, or maybe just the way she’d said them. Regardless, Dante was more certain than ever that he absolutely could not make eye contact with the country cutie. It was a matter of principle now. A matter of self-preservation. “That’s very nice of you,” he mumbled. “But—”

“Oh, for the love of God, take her up on her offer, would you?”

That was it. Fuck principle. He had to get away from this senior-citizen psycho.

“Fine. Sure. Thank you.” He stood up so abruptly he smacked the top of his head into the overhead luggage bin. He winced in pain.

Miss Pinkie stood, too, and placed a hand on Dante’s head, then stroked her soft fingers down the side of his face. “Oh, my goodness! Are you all right?”

“Please take your seats,” the flight attendant said in a clipped voice. “Immediately.”

Pinkie stepped out into the aisle, let Dante through, then slipped in front of him to the middle seat. Her ass brushed against the front of his pants. It was a firm ass. Almost as firm as the front of his pants.

They sat down simultaneously, and in their hurry, Pinkie dropped her handbag to the floor. Its contents spilled out.

“Oh, no!”

“I’ve got it,” Dante told her.

“Seat belts,” the flight attendant snapped. “Right now, please.”

What the hell? Had the travel office booked him on PMS Airways?

Dante began shoveling the contents back in the purse, taking note of the usual girl stuff. Lipstick, loose change, wallet, nail file, cell phone, hairbrush. Then his eyes spied a shiny object under the seat in front and snagged it before the snarky stewardess could say anything more. He sat up, gave Pinkie her purse, and buckled his seat belt.

The Southern belle gazed up at him with clear-blue beautifulness under dark blond lashes. It was the first time he’d studied her up close, and it was all he could do not to suck in his breath in astonishment. She had to be one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen. Hers was a delicate kind of beauty. She had dainty bone structure. Soft skin. But there was something in those eyes that said she might be soft and dainty, but she sure as hell wasn’t fragile.

“Thankyousoverymuch,” she breathed.

The airplane began to back out from the gate. “No problem.” He blinked at her, finding himself dangerously close to freezing up again. Deep, deep shit …

“May I have my bracelet?”

“What?” Dante realized he still clutched the shiny object in his palm. “Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

It was one of those silver charm bracelets a lot of women seemed to wear. Among the charms that dangled from the circle of pink and silver beads was a heart-shaped locket, the word “Taffy” engraved on its face.

“So, you’re Taffy.” Dante did his best not to laugh, since, really, could there be a more perfect name for this chick? There she was, a sweet piece of pink saltwater taffy, the kind that got all silky in your mouth with a little effort. Dante decided he would unwrap her and find out just how silky-sweet she tasted.

“No, it is not my name, if you must know.” She pursed her lips tight and shoved the bracelet into her purse without elaboration.

“No?” Dante smiled at her. “So you stole the bracelet from someone named Taffy?”

The woman stiffened. “No, I most certainly did not!”

Okay, so he might have crossed the line with that little joke. Not knowing what in God’s name provoked him to do so, he glanced over at psycho senior, who’d obviously been eavesdropping. She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he told pretty little whatever-her-name-was. “I was trying to be funny. It’s not my strong suit.”

The nasty old lady snorted.

“So, if I may ask, what is your name?”

His new acquaintance fluttered her thick eyelashes at him, considered his question for a moment, then unleashed a perfectly seductive smile. “All right. My name is Taffy. I rarely tell strange men my name, but I decided to make an exception for you.”

Dante felt his eyebrows arch. This woman was good. Real good. So good that he guessed she made exceptions for men on a regular basis. “Well, I’m flattered, Taffy. And my name is Dan. Dan Carnes.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dan Carnes.”

Never taking his eyes from hers, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. He held it there as the plane left the ground and angled