Model in Flight

By Pat Snellgrove

Two people from different walks of life.  Two people with different goals, different ideals, different expectations.  They were different as night and day.  How could they merge those two lives.

He was a rebel who did not conform to the rules she lived by.  The rules her parents had instilled in her right from birth.  She did not stray from the straight and narrow.  But against her better judgement Willow was tempted by this man.  Very tempted!

Taj had been attracted to Willow from the first moment he had seen her photo on the cover of a magazine.  But he pushed that attraction to one side.  She was not for him.  Never would be.

When their lives clashed in an unexpected way they were forced into working together.  How could this work.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pat Snellgrove
• Release date: Feb 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781386951247

Pat Snellgrove

Pat lives in a small Wairarapa Town in New Zealand.  She has a son, a daughter, three grandsons and two grandmothers, which are the light of her life. She has been writing for what seems like forever. But it wasn;t until 1999 that she had success when her first book was published in e-format.  Pat has since had three more books published as e-books and has taken part in several anthologies. She loves writing and cherishes the friends it has brought into her life. For news of Pat's latest releases please visit patsnellgrove.com or join Pat on Facebook.

Book preview

About This Book

Two people from different walks of life.  Two people with different goals, different ideals, different expectations.  They were different as night and day.  How could they merge those two lives. 

He was  a rebel who did not conform to the rules she lived by.  The rules her parents had instilled in her right from birth.  She did not stray from the straight and narrow. But against her better judgement Willow was tempted by this man.  Very tempted.

Taj had been attracted to Willow from the first moment he had seen her photo on the cover of a magazine.  But he pushed that attraction to one side.  She was not for him.  Never would be.

When their lives clashed in an unexpected way they were forced into working together.  How could it work?

MODEL IN FLIGHT is set in Wellington, the capital city of New Zealand. For news of Pat’s latest releases, please visit patsnellgrove.com or join her on Facebook. Happy reading!

Other Novels by Pat Snellgrove:

Model In Flight

From This Moment

Enduring Love

This book is dedicated to the Men and Women of the Life Flight Trust and the Search and Rescue Service in New Zealand. Thank you for all your help and information. You do a difficult but rewarding job that is appreciated by everyone.

Prologue

T here down to your left, Taj, I can see some markers.

Oh no, not on the highway again. I hope they’ve stopped all the traffic. The last time we had to land on the road, we nearly had an accident ourselves.

They’ve assured me that all traffic has been stopped.

Hang on then. I’m putting her down.

Slowly the helicopter descended into the darkness, and then with a shudder, it settled onto the hard asphalt. Not waiting until the rotors had stopped turning, both the crewman and paramedic dove out of the craft and headed across the road to where they could see the flashing red and blue lights, followed by the pilot as soon as he had the ’copter secure.

What have we got?

The men approached the EMS personnel situated alongside what had once been two fairly modern motor vehicles, but which was now a twisted pile of metal.

Two dead and two badly injured; one of them a male child of approximately three; the other a female, possibly his mother.

Taj’s heart missed a beat. He hated his job when it involved children. Far too often, they didn’t make it to hospital.

How bad is he?

He’s lost a lot of blood, but I think we’ve got him stabilized.

And the other? Taj stepped forward to view both victims of the car crash.

She’s holding her own at the moment, but it’ll be touch and go. She’s lost a lot of blood and has, I suspect, internal injuries.

Then we’d better get them loaded up.

Leaving the other men to organize details, the crewman hurried back to his helicopter to unload the portable stretchers.

Minutes later, the helicopter lifted off and headed back into the city.

BELMONT HOSPITAL. SISTER Blair speaking.

This is Taj Holland.

Taj. I wondered how long it would be before we heard from you. I guess you’re ringing up about last night’s crash victims?

Yes. How are they doing?

The woman died.

From the other end of the phone, Sister Blair heard a sound, which sounded like a sob, but she made no comment and continued, The little boy is still critical but stable.

Will he pull through?

We hope so, but the next twenty-four hours are going to be touch and go. If he makes it through them without any setbacks, then I’d guess he’ll be okay.

Has he got family with him?

His grandmother arrived this morning, and I believe an auntie is coming tomorrow. Having lost both his parents in this crash, he’s going to need all the support he can get.

Can I call and see him?

Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Actually, the staff were just asking when you’d be in.

As usual, you’ll keep this quiet.

We will, but why you don’t want anyone to know you care is beyond me.

It wouldn’t go with my image you know.

Although she couldn’t see his face, Sister Blair could hear the hint of laughter in his voice, but before she could comment Taj continued, Just imagine what my friends would say if they could see me worrying about a small boy.

How you can call those people you associate with your friends, I’ll never know, Sister Blair reprimanded.

Not another lecture.

Do you ever take any notice? Your lifestyle outside the service leaves a lot to be desired, young man. People would take you more seriously if you’d change it. You mark my words, one day; you’ll regret not having cleaned up your act.

Chapter 1

W ow! What a body.

An angry red hue crept up Willow’s face and neck.

Was one foolish mistake going to haunt her forever? When would she finally escape from that slightly out-of-the-ordinary modeling assignment?

For weeks she had been on the receiving end of crude and suggestive comments. Normally, she could ignore them, but this time it was more difficult. The comments had been shouted across a busy New Zealand street, with hundreds of people milling around, all of whom seemed to stop and stare in her direction.

Spinning around, she faced her tormentor, expecting to see a rough, uncouth, teenage male. To her surprise, he was far from a teenager and one of the most ruggedly handsome men she had seen in a long time.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she took in his appearance. Tight, well-washed jean-shorts that looked as if they had been attacked with a pair of blunt scissors hugged his long muscular body, emphasizing every husky line. A too short T-shirt clung to his muscular chest.

Willow’s glance slid upward to linger on his handsome face. Unshaven, he should have looked disreputable, but the dark stubble shadowing his face only added to his attractiveness.

She gulped back a sigh of admiration and tried to bolster up the anger that had been foremost in her mind when she had first looked at him. To her dismay, she couldn’t seem to think of anything but how good-looking he was and what he did to her pulse.

Come on, beautiful lady give me one of those famous smiles. Please! he taunted with a grin that had Willow’s heart racing even faster, and caused a group of people lingering on the sidewalk to chuckle at his audacity.

The cheekier of the onlookers called out encouragement.

Again Willow felt hot color flooding her face as anger and embarrassment erased the momentary attraction she had felt for the man.

Lifting her head a fraction higher, she glared angrily at him, her eyes flashing sparks of hatred across the space between them.

Will you leave me alone, or I’ll— she began, only to stammer to a halt as a disarming grin spread across the man’s face.

Angrily, she bit back the rest of her words. She would not lose her composure, and especially not for someone as rude and uncouth as this character.

As if aware of her inner battle, the man flashed her another smile, but one completely different from his former grin. This time it contained an invitation, sensual and suggestive.

Shaken by what she saw written all over his face, Willow took a step back. The anger she had been feeling at his verbal attack began to reassert itself, but it faded before it had begun as the very sensual message began to work on her emotions.

Her heartbeat began to accelerate, sending her blood pounding through her veins at an alarming rate. Her breathing rate increased.

Why is this happening to me? This man is everything I despise. He represents everything I loathe.

To her dismay, she found herself glancing at him again and studying him more closely.

Dressed all in black, from the ripped jeans and short T-shirt, to the worn leather jacket, he was a man who would warrant a second glance from any warm-blooded woman, be she young or old.

Dark brown hair, tinged with just a hint of red, clung damply to his well-shaped head, and tumbled over his collar in unruly confusion. In complete contrast, the top was cut short and spiky in the style Willow had seen on many young men around town.

To her horror, she found her thoughts drifting to how those vibrant strands would feel running through her fingers. For a brief moment, she longed to find out if they were as soft to the touch as they looked.

Hard on that thought came another of complete stupidity. He was a stranger and a very rude one at that. She should not be thinking about him at all.

With a superhuman effort, she managed to wipe those very dangerous thoughts from her mind and continue her study of him. His unshaven state made her cringe anew. She knew it was common among the in set at the moment to affect this kind of look, but it had never really appealed to her. She preferred the clean-shaven look. Or she had until...

Again Willow had to pull herself up short. Her thoughts were spiralling out of control once more. She had to stop this stupidity, but despite the self-recrimination, she found her gaze drifting back towards the man.

Long, muscular, darkly-tanned legs stretched out before him as he leaned nonchalantly against the lamp-post with his

arms crossed in front of him, a pose that did nothing to hide

the broad expanse of chest.

Willow’s glance slid back to his face and to her horror, she found herself on the receiving end of a very intense look from a pair of midnight blue eyes.

Eyes that seemed to strip the very soul from her body; eyes that failed to hide the pleasure he got from looking at her; eyes that suggested things she didn’t want to know about.

A horrified gasp escaped her lips.

As if galvanized into action by the look of sheer bewilderment and horror that passed over Willow’s face, the man’s countenance softened. With a smile, he pushed away from the lamppost and took a step towards her.

But his sudden movement was enough to push Willow into action. Flashing him a look of loathing, she spun on her heels and dashed into the nearest shop.

The sound of an amused chuckle floated after her.

Although she had escaped his presence, to her disgust, Willow could not forget the man or the way he had looked at her. Nor could she forget the embarrassment she felt at being made a spectacle of in the middle of a busy city street.

Inside the shop, she took refuge behind a display stand, hoping to gain some much-needed time to bring herself and her emotions under control before she had to venture outside once more.

Deep, ragged breaths whistled from between her lips as she tried to push those few minutes of torture from her mind.

Time and time again, her thoughts returned to the man, his rude comments, and more especially, the sensuality in his eyes as he had returned her scrutiny.

It was as if he had been trying to transmit a message to her. A message Willow had no trouble interpreting. A message her body had responded to immediately, but which her mind refused to acknowledge. She did not associate with men of his calibre. Not ever!

Taking another deep, cleansing breath, she cautiously pulled open the door and peered out into the street. To her relief, there was no sign of the man.

YOU’RE LATE. THE WORDS drifted towards Willow the minute she pushed open the large oak door and stepped inside the agency building. Our appointment was for half past one, not two o’clock.

Sorry, Penny, I was delayed. I hope I haven’t held everyone up. Willow sank into the seat in front of the desk and ran slightly shaky hands through her long, silver-blonde hair.

Lucky for you, Doug is running late too.

Getting to her feet, the woman moved around the side of the desk towards Willow. You look flustered. Someone or something upset you?

It’s nothing.

Nothing? For you to lose your composure, something more than nothing had to happen. What or who ruffled your feathers?

Pushing her glasses up into her black, gray streaked hair, the older woman dropped into a chair on the same side of the desk as Willow.

Tell Auntie Penny everything; I’m a very good listener.

It was nothing, Willow repeated her former statement, but then as she saw Penny’s eyebrows rise in disbelief, added, okay, so I admit someone did upset me. But it wasn’t anything major. He...they’ve...it’s over now.

He?

A guy yelled out some rather loud, suggestive comments in the middle of the street. I guess I overreacted.

He threatened you? Penny demanded angrily, jumping to her feet, her hackles raised.

No. Far from it. I didn’t feel at all threatened. In fact...I guess he’d seen that awful promotion I did for those satin sheets and thought he’d see if I was receptive to a little flirting.

I knew that sheet promotion was a mistake. I wish I hadn’t been persuaded to recommend you for it. But I thought you said you could handle the rude, adverse comments. What made these different?

I don’t know exactly.

Tell me about the guy.

There’s not a lot to tell. He was quite good-looking. Actually, I guess you could say he was very good-looking in a tousled, unkempt way.

What did he say to upset you?

It wasn’t what he said exactly, but where he chose to say it. Being yelled at in the middle of a city street at lunchtime is very embarrassing.

So why didn’t you deal with his rude comments like you usually do? It’s unusual for you to let someone get away with rudeness. Could it be that you were attracted to the man?

Like hell, Willow exploded angrily. He’s not my type at all!

Me thinks the girl protests too much, Penny teased. Then, when anger flashed across Willow’s face, she added, Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to tease you. But I’m curious to know why this guy had such an effect on you.

To Willow’s relief, before she had time to answer, the phone on the wide oak desk began to ring. Slanting a puzzled look at her companion, Penny leaned over and picked up the receiver.

Penny Morrison. Yes... Okay, we’ll be right there.

Replacing the telephone, she turned back to Willow. The photographer has arrived. He’s waiting in the studio.

Pushing to her feet, Willow followed the woman from the room. Photographic modelling was part of a job she loved very much; one she took seriously and wanted to do well at.

Everything was pushed aside when she was working, and hopefully the image of a very disturbing rude man would be as well.

AS SHE STOOD ON THE sidelines watching while Willow went through her paces for the photographer, Penny’s thoughts turned to the first time she had seen Willow.

A smile slid across her face as she remembered the shy young girl who had wandered into her agency four years ago looking for work. A girl who had hardly said a word unless encouraged to do so. How things had changed!

But that first meeting had been important to them both. Right from the start, Penny had known this young girl had what it took to become a top-flight model, as well as to help put her agency on the map. It hadn’t just been Willow’s beauty that had made Penny sure of the girls future success, but a combination of several things. The regal way she carried herself, and despite her shyness, the way she seemed to glow from within. Even then, untrained and very shy, she had shown potential.

Based on feelings she hadn’t experienced about a potential model before, Penny had been willing to take a chance on the girl.

And her faith in Willow and all her predictions had been proven right, time and time again. The minute some of the agency’s more prominent clients had caught a glimpse of Willow’s photographs they had demanded she be used in their advertising campaigns.

Photographic and catwalk modelling had come as an adjunct to those initial advertising forays. From the first moment she had stepped into the public eye, Willow’s career had taken off, her success guaranteed.

Penny studied the girl more closely as she moved to and fro as instructed by the photographer.

Her waist-length silver-blonde hair swirled around her slim body in a cloud when she moved, and her indescribable green/smoky-gray eyes, which seemed to change color at will, sparkled as she let the mood of the moment take over.

The acute shyness had been slowly replaced by confidence in her ability to do well, but had remained in every other aspect of Willow’s life.

With her rise upward on the modeling ladder, her real name of Wendy Nyberg had disappeared to be replaced by Willow. This had come about purely by accident.

One of her first assignments had been on a windswept beach and the client watching the proceedings had inadvertently suggested that if the wind got much stronger, Wendy would be bent like a willow.

The description had seemed particularly apt and Penny, already searching for a theme to promote her newest find, had immediately suggested that she adopt Willow as her professional name.

The change suited Willow, since she wanted to keep her private and public life separate if she could. So far, she had managed to do just that.

For as well as anonymity, the change of name also meant people didn’t immediately associate her with her parents, both of whom were public figures.

It was important to Willow that she had made it on her own, without the help of either her mother or father.

Only Penny was privy to the facts of Willow’s home life that she came from a wealthy family; that her father had his own business; or that her mother was a well-known fund-raiser for a variety of charities.

THAT’S IT, WILLOW. We’ll call it a day.

Doug slipped the strap of his camera over his head and placed the expensive piece of equipment carefully on a table by the window. Stretching wearily, he turned to face the screen where Willow was changing back into her own clothes.

Can I give you a ride to your car, honey? he asked, reaching for a large case and starting to pack his assortment of cameras into it.

No thanks, Doug. It’s parked just down the road in Dad’s building. I’ll be fine getting there.

You’re sure? It’s quite dark outside now.

Thanks again, but no thanks.

Coming around the side of the screen, Willow pulled on her jacket and bent to pick up her handbag lying on the floor.

The whole street is well-lit, so I’ll be quite safe.

Okay, but be careful. There are some strange types on the streets these days.

I will. See you later.

Pushing open the internal door, Willow moved out into the office area.

Penny was still seated at her desk, busily writing. But as she heard the door open and close, she looked up and smiled a welcome.

All finished?

Yes, for today at least. What time do you want me here tomorrow?

Forget tomorrow. You can take a break. But tomorrow night, there’s a fundraising event I’d like you to attend. We’re providing the models for the fashion parade, which is being held during the evening, and your presence has been especially requested. Before you protest, she added, as she saw the look that passed over Willow’s face, it’s for an excellent cause—the Search and Rescue Service. I believe their present project is to try and raise money to buy another helicopter.

Oh, Penny, do I have to? Willow protested she hated charity evenings; they reminded her too much of the times she was forced to attend one of her mother’s many fundraising affairs.

Sorry, but yes you do. You’re my top model, and I need you there. Seven-thirty at the Town Hall. Don’t be late.

Yes, boss. Willow gave a mocking salute. I’ll be there, but don’t expect me to enjoy it.

Now why on earth would I expect you to do that? You’ll be there to work. Go home and get some rest. You’re starting to look almost ethereal.

Thanks a million; you know just how to cheer me up.

Oh, before you go two things. One, your father rang and he wants you to meet him in his office, and while you were busy, these arrived for you.

Penny picked up a large bunch of flowers and handed them to the girl. Looks like you have an admirer. With a frown, Willow took the flowers.

Who are they from?

I don’t know. They were sitting on the desk when I came back a short time ago. There is a card attached to them; open it and you’ll soon know.

With shaking hands, Willow laid the flowers back on the desk and extracted the small card from the envelope. Flicking it open, she was surprised to see just two words.

‘I’m sorry.’

Well, Penny prompted, who are they from?

I’m not sure. It’s not signed.

Not signed. But who would give flowers as beautiful as these and not sign their name? Do you have any ideas?

Willow swallowed convulsively. She had more than an idea. She knew exactly who had sent them, but she wasn’t going to tell Penny. Not after she had all but admitted that the man who had called out to her in public held a fascination for her.

No, she lied, "I