H e guided her along the tilting aisle. Inside the plane the air was cooler than outside, and the plush leather seats and expensive detailing of the private jet looked incongruously luxurious compared to their harsh surroundings.
"They may have taken all the food and water, but we have hundreds of towelettes." He picked up a sachet from a full box, ripped it open, and shook out the damp white cloth inside. "Refreshment awaits you."
She laughed. How could she not? "You're good at looking on the bright side."
"It's probably my fault that we've been stranded here so I'd be happy to atone by cooling your skin."
"I can do it myself, thanks." She took a handful of towelettes, still smiling.
He was already stripping off his T-shirt, and she averted her eyes from the arrogant display of tanned muscle that was his back. Did he expect her to undress too?
She decided to wipe off her arms, where a fine layer of sand made her skin look ashy. The cool sensation of the wipe-which was probably loaded with alcohol and very drying-was wonderful on her sticky, hot skin.
"Good, right? Would you mind doing my back? I can't reach." He demonstrated that the thickness of his own biceps made it impossible for him to reach the middle of his back.
She gulped. "Okay." She opened a fresh towelette and drew it slowly down the hollow of his spine. Goodness. She had never done anything like this with a man she didn't know intimately. And her longest relationship had been with a boyfriend who was ticklish and didn't relish being touched unnecessarily.
When the towelette had absorbed the heat and salt from his skin, she unwrapped another one and started to wipe his right shoulder.
"What do you do, when you're not stranded in the desert?"
"I'm an architect."
"What kind of buildings do you design?" His muscles rippled slightly as he spoke. His body was beautifully proportioned, sturdy and masculine as a classical statue.
"Stark minimalism, I'm afraid." Which was lucky, or she'd be tempted to commission a statue of Zadir Al Kilanjar for her garden.
"Don't apologize. I'm a fan of minimalism myself. I almost bought a Kouichi
Kimura house last year, but someone beat me to it."
"No kidding?" She rubbed another towelette over his left shoulder. "Kimura's houses are beautiful, but I mostly do larger buildings, offices, government buildings, that kind of thing."
"You prefer to work on a grand scale."
"I do. I try to take commissions that will still be there in a hundred years. Unless
the money's too good to pass up, of course." She sighed. "That's why I'm flying to