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wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Lately though, she’d been noticing more and more odd occurrences, particularly with cargo flights. They’d been getting more and more of them, when previously Praxis Air had catered mostly to passengers. In fact, the Board of Directors had decided to outfit more jets for cargo hauling in the past year.
    Emily hadn’t agreed with the move at the time but she was a minority shareholder and had been overruled. Since they’d dedicated more jets to cargo duty the number of cargo flights had gone up considerably, even though Praxis Air wasn’t the cheapest or easiest way to deliver cargo.
    Heck, if they’d wanted to make the airline into a cargo service, they could easily have done it by adding bigger jets that could haul more. They’d been approached numerous times by everyone from the popular overnight carriers to the US Postal Service about ongoing cargo contracts, but Praxis Air had always been about catering to an elite clientele. Sometimes those elite had cargo, so they’d outfitted a few planes to carry it. Every once in a while, Praxis flew small, high priority items like emergency medical supplies as charity runs, but nothing on the scale of what they’d been doing in the past few months.
    Something moved in the darkness. It was approaching four in the morning. The first workers shouldn’t be here for another hour at least.
    Emily grabbed a wrench from a nearby workbench. It wasn’t much of a weapon but at least it was something.
    There. Another sound. Something scraping along the concrete floor of the hangar, barely perceptible. Emily edged cautiously closer, peering around crates and past machinery.
    Something moved over by the cargo she’d just accepted earlier from the late night delivery and her heart leapt into her throat. She hefted the wrench higher.
    “You expecting trouble from an unhappy robot or something?”
    Emily spun to face the source of the deep, male voice, ready to clobber him.
    It was the new guy. Sam.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” Emily lowered the wrench, her heart pounding in relief.
    Then she realized how vulnerable she was all alone in the hangar with a pilot she’d only met the day before. And he was a lot bigger than her. Massive was a good word to describe his size in comparison to her petite frame. She tightened her hold on the wrench, keeping it at her side.
    “I’m sorry.” His tone was placating as he straightened from his crouch over one of the cargo containers. “I know I shouldn’t have come in so early but I couldn’t sleep. Kind of excited about my first day on the schedule.”
    He looked sheepish enough that she almost believed him. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt . . . for now.
    “First day jitters? I thought only school kids admitted to that.”
    “You’ll keep my secret, won’t you?”
    His grin was disarming and charming at the same time. She found it hard to resist the impulse to return it.
    “Remember . . . I now have blackmail material to use against you and we should get along fine.” She thought about the situation for a moment and decided to extend a bit of trust his way. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee since it looks like neither of us is going to get any more sleep before it’s time to fly.”
    He kept a comfortable distance as they walked out of the cargo area toward the office. It was as if he knew how intimidating his presence and sheer bulk could be and was trying to minimize the effect. That was either incredibly considerate or potentially creepy, if he was trying to keep her calm before he struck.
    It was a ridiculous thought, but one she couldn’t help having. Women had to be careful—especially when they worked in a male dominated field like aviation. Winding up alone in the hangar wasn’t the smartest move she’d ever made and she’d make a point not to repeat it. She had planned to leave right after the cargo handlers but she’d forgotten something in the