Her Perfect Stranger Read online

  Hell of a time for her libido to lift its head.

  “The power will come back on in a moment,” he reassured her as everyone around them seemed to panic. “Nothing to be worried about.”

  Corrine wasn’t worried, and it wasn’t just his bone-melting voice making it so, but the fact that she didn’t worry about things out of her control. It was a supreme waste of time, and she hated wasting anything, especially time.

  Someone trying to get out of the bar jostled her. She wouldn’t even be in this madhouse if she hadn’t had to fly here from Houston for an emergency meeting of the utmost importance—meeting the new pilot. After this she could only hope there weren’t any delays in her next project—commanding upcoming space shuttle mission STS-124. As it was her team would have to work hard to bring the replacement pilot on board.

  Given the angry, disturbed, upset voices around her, general panic seemed imminent, so Corrine both forgave and ignored the person who’d pushed her. But she didn’t intend to be pushed again.

  “I’m going to make my way to the front desk,” she said, turning her head toward where she imagined her stranger’s ear would be. Making herself heard in the uproar was difficult. “I’m going to get a room and just sleep the power outage away—” Oh God. Her mouth brushed skin. His ear, she thought, but it was hard to think at all because her body tingled with the most mind-numbing awareness.

  Lust.

  She recognized it, cataloguing the fact in her technical mind. But it didn’t stop the phenomenon. “I’ll come with you.” That was all he said, but in the dark, his voice seemed even lower, even more husky and sexy, if possible. Before she could figure out how to lose him, he’d taken her bag and was tugging her toward the door.

  There wasn’t much light. None from the windows, which looked out into the pitch-black, stormy night. But since the generator hadn’t kicked on, the bartender had lit candles along the length of the bar, and was doing her best to calm people down.

  With her hand in the stranger’s large, warm one, Corrine followed. An odd thing, following, something she as a leader didn’t often do. But this man seemed to be a leader, as well, and she let him muscle his way through the mass of people. She had to admit, in a very sexist sort of way, that walking behind had its advantages. First of all, he smelled delicious, all woodsy and male. And second, even in the dark she could make out his broad shoulders and strong back. If only the light was slightly better, she could check out his—

  “Uh-oh,” he said, turning around so abruptly she plowed into him. He slipped one of his hands to her waist, holding her upright with ease as she caught her balance. “Looks like quite a few people beat us to the punch.”

  He was right.

  Here in the lobby of the hotel, candles and battery lanterns cast an almost surreal light. The receptionist had a long line of people in front of her, and she looked harried, harassed and near hysteria.

  In less than three minutes, the line started to dissipate. Far too quickly. Around them the grumbling increased, mimicking the force of the storm outside, as the wind and rain slashed against the walls, making it nearly impossible to hear.

  Nearly.

  “They’re out of rooms,” groaned the woman in front of them. “Now what?”

  Corrine listened to the storm ravaging the hotel, and shivered. The thought of going back out there and finding another place to stay really irritated her, because damn it, she’d just started to dry off. That she’d told her assistant not to bother with reservations for the one night until her barracks room was ready was coming back to haunt her now. She marched up to the desk. “I want a room,” she said coolly to the now teary receptionist.

  The woman merely hiccuped.

  Corrine briefly entertained the idea of ordering the woman to get a grip, that she should be helping people find other rooms in other hotels, or at the very least, looking sure and confident so people would stop yelling at her, but there was no point. “Check one more time,” she said instead, in that voice of authority that always had people cracking. “I’ll take anything.”

  Next to her, her stranger stirred, setting a hand very lightly on the base of her spine. At the touch, Corrine’s every nerve leaped to attention and turned her knees wobbly.

  “I don’t think she has anything,” he said quietly in her ear, causing all sorts of tremors inside her belly and other, far more erogenous, zones. “Or if she does, she’s too worked up to find it.”

  Corrine sighed and nearly melted into the hand that was lightly, so lightly, rubbing the aching spot at the base of her spine. She caught herself just short of purring, and straightened, locking her traitorous knees while she was at it. “I know.” She looked toward the double doors that led out into the night.

  They opened and more people pushed their way in, seeking shelter. Rain and wind pelted everyone within ten feet of the doors. “It’s back out there, then,” she said with a shiver. “To find another place.” She’d have to get a cab first, which wouldn’t be easy in this weather. She’d be wet to the bone within two seconds. The thought wasn’t appealing, but she had no choice and wasn’t one to cry over spilled milk.

  Intending to bid her stranger goodbye, she turned to him, but he spoke first.

  “I have a room,” he said very softly. “And I’m happy to share it with you.”

  2

  CORRINE STARED at her perfect stranger, shocked. Although it was dark all around them, she could feel his searching gaze on her, like a caress. In the depths of his warm, blessedly dry jacket, she shivered.

  Not from the cold now, but from something far more complicated.

  Another woman joined the nervous young receptionist behind the desk. “I’m the manager,” she said to Corrine. “We’re terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but as you can see, with no power and the generator not operating properly, we’re in no position to get you a room or help you find another place. You can wait the storm out here in the lobby or make your own arrangements.”

  Wait the storm out? In this cold, dark, noisy room with all these other unhappy people?

  Or she could hike back out there and try to catch a cab.

  Some choice.

  The man behind her stirred, just enough to have his thigh brush the back of hers, and everything inside her went still, then hot.

  He’d offered his room.

  And his bed.

  Probably his body, too.

  Please, her own body begged her brain. Oh, pretty, pretty please.

  “Ma’am?” The manager looked at Corrine, impatience shimmering. She had other people to cater to at the moment, to smile at and try to appease.

  What to do?

  Corrine had been born to rule. Just ask her parents, who’d called her Queen Bee since day one. Her mom, a biochemist, and her father, a cardiologist, joked that it was in her genetic makeup to be the boss.

  Corrine had to admit she’d lived up to their predictions.

  Maybe if she’d been raised by people who hadn’t understood her, who hadn’t encouraged her to do whatever she wanted to do, be whatever she wanted to be, she might have turned out to be a holy terror, but truthfully, she wasn’t spoiled at all. Shortly after her family had moved to Houston when she was a child, she’d dreamed of becoming an astronaut. She worked damn hard for what she wanted, and never gave up until she got it. No matter if it was being high school valedictorian, or graduating from college a year early, or entering the Manned Space Flight Program at NASA because she was determined to fly space shuttles. She’d not only entered, but had succeeded beyond everyone’s expectations.

  Except her own, that is.

  Thanks to unwavering tenacity, sheer stubbornness and damned hard work, she’d risen through the ranks, flown on a record four missions to date as pilot, and was now going to be only the third woman in history to command a mission.

  So maybe she was confident. And okay, a little tough. But to make it in space and aeronautics, traditionally run by men, she had to be. Corrine kn