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Love on Cloud Nine

Linda Andrews




  Love On Cloud Nine

  By Linda Andrews

  Copyright © 2011 by Linda Andrews

  Published by LandNa Publishing

  Cover Design © KM Andrews and Linda Andrews

  Photo by Soonerstorms

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Supercell

  Cloud formation over the Atlantic Ocean

  “Big deal.” Glynis Ahdeed glanced at the closed restroom door, a fluffy white cloud hovering in a sheet of gray. Such harsh disdain was not acceptable at the Ministry of Meteorological Phenomena, a soaring cumulus cloud growing on the corner of Silver Lining and Cloud Nine. Even the excitement, rumbling like distant thunder within the offices, was frowned upon. She held her hands under the black rain cloud and cleaned them in the gentle shower.

  “It’s not as if the M. M. P. never had a visiting dignitary before. We’ve had plenty.” They’d entertained the Prime Minister of Precipitation plus the Ministers of Frost and Fog. Even the Emperor of the Four Winds blew in on occasion

  “And that’s not counting the tourists.” Glynis stuffed a brown curl behind her ear. Of course, the dignitaries weren’t as good looking as Mr. Five-Point-Oh nor did they bedevil her thoughts like he did. She shook the disloyalty from her head. “Tornado wranglers are all the same. Conceited, arrogant.” She glanced into the reflecting waterfall. Smoky gray eyes locked with her dark green ones.

  “So you have heard of me?” A dimple flashed in his tan cheek.

  Glynis focused on his face. By thunder, those photos in the Thundercloud Gazette hadn’t done it justice. Neither had they captured the devilry in his eyes, the hard lines of his face, or the wry amusement lifting his lips. Fading funnel clouds! Was he really here, or had her thoughts become hallucinations?

  “To me, calling something conceited and arrogant is redundant. Just like cocky and egotistical.” The black clouds forming the bathroom stall door evaporated. He stepped forward crowding her against the counter.

  Glynis flattened her hands against the cool surface. He was here alright. Not that it mattered. She refused to be cowed by his size or seduced by his charm. “This is the ladies room.” Her tone contained enough frost to cause hail.

  Mr. Five-Point-Oh beamed. “You know what my favorite insult of yours is, Glynis?” His voice was like a cloud on a scorching summer day.

  “H-how do you know my insults?”

  “My favorite is the one you call your brother Ellsworth. Vapor-headed suction vortex.” He winked and reached around her to wash his hands. His shoulder brushed hers. “Not much one can say after being called a brainless bag of hot air that just plain sucks.”

  Glynis sidled closer to the door. If he knew her brother, he knew about the scandal. The summer cloud feeling evaporated. His charm was as solid as a rainbow. “How do you know my brother?”

  “All us Tornado wranglers know each other, ma’am. I’m Roland by the way, Roland James.” He offered his freshly cleaned hand.

  She ignored it. “I know who you are, Mr James. The question is why are you in the ladies restroom and how do you know who I am?”

  “Everyone knows you Glynis Ahdeed.” He tucked his rejected hand into his pocket. “Don’t worry. I never find any substance in the hot air the other wranglers blow either.”

  “Hot air?” Heat licked her cheeks. Was her past still fodder for every wrangler with ambitions?

  “It’s not important.” He waved his hand in the air. “From personal experience, your refusal to go for a spin with me is simply good taste and not...” He shrugged and clamped his lips together.

  “I am not a cold front on a summer day or a frigid down draft.” Neither was she desperate enough to go out with every ambitious tornado wrangler.

  “I never said you were.”

  “That is what the rumors say, isn’t it?”

  “I try not to gossip, Ma’am.”

  Glynis gritted her teeth. She'd played deeper games with better men. “But you do use the women’s restroom.”

  “Turnabout is fair play. There are women in the men’s toilet.” He glanced at the wall of clouds separating the men’s and the women’s restrooms. Feminine giggles filtered through water vapor. “Not all women are like you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Some actually admire tornado wranglers. And while most are harmless, some insist I sign all 200 of my wrangler trading cards.”

  “Like that’s all they’d want you to sign.”

  He acknowledged her barb with a brief nod. “I’ve only taken a few up on that offer.” He shrugged and his dimple winked at her, “I was much younger then.”

  “Four-hundred-thrity-two is hardly old.” Glynis snapped her mouth shut. Dropping dew points! Her knowledge of his exact age might give him ideas. “It was in your file.” She pressed her lips together. Great, now she wasn't just a fan, she was a stalker. Keep your mouth shut, Glynis or you'll face a harassment suit. Not to mention a cloudburst full of media attention.

  “Age taught me a few lessons.” Meaning lurked deep within his leaden eyes.

  She leaned toward him. There was a message there. A message just for her.

  “I am much more selective and infinitely more discreet.”

  Discreet. Selective. The words echoed from her past. “Too bad you can’t say the same about Supercell’s Paparazzi.”

  “Is that why you wouldn’t go out with me, Glynis? The Paparazzi?”

  “Not hardly,” she snorted, but kept her voice strong, even. Not a trace of the humiliation or pain. “I’m the granddaughter of The Ahdeed.” She raised her chin and looked straight into Roland's eyes. “I’ve had my picture in the paper since the day I was born.”

  “Then why did you refuse to meet me?”

  Confusion knocked her pride. He sounded hurt by her refusal. That couldn't be, could it? “I didn’t know you from the next tornado wranger.”

  “But that’s no longer true, is it?” His grin returned.

  “Noooo?”

  “Good. I’ll see you tonight at seven.” His long legs carried him to the door. The white cloud evaporated at his approach.

  His answer swirled inside her skull. How could one relate to another? “What? Why?”

  “For our date.”

  “D-date?”

  “Yes. Date. Wear something comfortable.” With a wink he was gone.

  Date. Date! The word fluttered inside her skull like a leaf in the autumn breeze. She had a date with Mr. Five-Point-Oh.

  Two of the Wind Calibration Techs rushed into the bathroom. “Isn’t he dreamy. I just wish I brought my trading cards.”

  “Oh, hello Miss, er, Glynis.” The blonde one darted around Glynis to stare at her hair in the reflecting waterfall. “We didn’t see you there.”

  “You just missed Roland James.” The black haired tech retouched her lipstick. “Mr. Five-Point-Oh is much better looking in person. And
his body...” She smacked her lips. “I think Mr. Fujito needs to add a six-point-oh just for Randy Roland. He can take me for a whirl anytime.”

  “Really, Trix. Glynis doesn’t care.”

  “How could you not care about a guy who’s Fujito rating is half the size of his—” Trix grabbed the toes of her left foot. “Oof! What was that for?”

  “Glynis,” The blonde tech cleared her throat. “The Ahdeed and your father are looking for you.”

  “Thanks.” Glynis checked her appearance in the mirror. Wouldn’t the techs be surprised to see her picture next to Randy Roland’s in tomorrow’s edition of the Gazette? She shook her head and strode toward her office. There was absolutely no way she would date Roland James. Not tonight. Not ever.

  “Glynis.” Her Grandfather’s voice boomed down the hallway. “Glynis Mariah Ahdeed, I need you to pull your head back into the clouds.”

  “Hello, Father. Grandfather. This is an unexpected delight.” The two most feared men in Supercell stood like sentinels outside her office. Mirror expressions of impatience and fondness softened the deep grooves carved from centuries of storm management of the planet below them. She kissed each man’s cheek in turn, inhaling the tang of ocean breeze, the musk of damp earth and sharpness of new pine.

  “Glynis. I hope you’ve overcome your recent health problems.” Her father’s opening salvo shifted the focus back on her. “Your mother is quite concerned that we are working you too hard. Two F-4 tornadoes last week requires a great deal of energy.”

  “Father, I manage the up and down drafts. The wranglers coax the tornadoes.”

  “That’s right.” Her grandfather ushered her efficiently into her office. “Everyone knows the wranglers couldn’t get a dust devil going if you didn’t manage the drafts.”

  Her father shook his head. “Stop tossing water at a raincloud. She’s an Ahdeed. She knows her duty. I recommended her for this task after all.”

  Glynis stepped between her father and grandfather. Old wranglers could bluster for hours if they weren’t given direction. Hours she didn’t have. She had a date to break. “Recommended me? For what, Father?”

  Her grandfather glanced around her office. “Touch down before the clouds thin.”

  “Glynis.” Her father’s warm hands wrapped hers. “Your mother and I respect your privacy...”

  “Stop whipping up clouds, boy.” Her grandfather thundered. “The storm’s waiting.”

  “Glynis. One member of The Anvil is retiring for, uh, health reasons.” Father and son exchanged glances. “As such there will be an opening.”

  Glynis shook her head. Their protection of her boarded on silly. Besides, even the dead relished Tane’s escapades.

  “The Anvil is more than the governing body of the Supercell.” Her grandfather started his favorite lecture. “Its members sit on the Elemental Board, planning all precipitating events for the planet and mediating disputes between those blizzard upstarts who think just because most of the world’s fresh water is frozen in icecaps...”

  “Father!”

  “—they have dominion over all atmospheric water north of the Twentieth parallel and...”

  “Father!”

  The Ahdeed cleared his throat while glaring at his son. “It’s a very important position and we need someone who’s allegiance is firmly in the Supercell.”

  “Yes, of course.” Glynis agreed quickly. The last thing she needed was these two coming to blows in her office. The last brouhaha had taken months to clean up. “Why would the committee recommend anyone else?”

  “No sane member would,” The Ahdeed grumbled, “but the Blowhards have a history of being treacherous, frigid updrafts.”

  “Tane is a representative of the Wind clan,” her father translated.

  “We’ve always had amicable relations with the Wind clan.”

  “The Blowhards have nominated Roland.”

  “That boy has Ice in his veins,” her grandfather snarled.

  Glynis nodded. Roland’s mixed heritage was the reason he conjured F-5 tornadoes. His success never had anything to do with her, or the way she felt when he whirled beneath her anvil. Or the way they felt together.

  Her grandfather’s glare stilled the thoughts in her head. “We’re counting on you to make certain his heritage doesn’t work against us in the Elemental Council.”

  “You want me to pull his file and have the Wisps launch an investigation?” Glynis hoped.

  “Bah,” The Ahdeed dismissed the investigators with a wave of his hand. “Those windbags couldn’t get hot air out of fire.”

  “Your brothers have told us all about his less public escapades.” Her father smoothed his immaculate hair.

  “What we need is a different perspective, a female perspective,” her grandfather clarified.

  Glynis sank into the nearest chair. “You want me to...?” The words died in her throat.

  “Nothing you wouldn’t normally do with a man you’re interested in.” Her father patted her limp hand but didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Does she even know what she’s supposed to do with a man?” Her grandfather snorted. “The girl is three-hundred-fifty-seven years old and when’s the last time she brought home anyone for you to meet? I can’t believe I agreed to your suggestion. We need a seductress. One that’d get to the heart of the matter.”

  “I don’t think that’s where a seductress’s interest lies,” Glynis said dryly.

  “It’s her exclusiveness that is the attraction.” Her father made his case. “She doesn’t date. Darting dust devils, you said yourself that the boy has asked to be set up with her a dozen times and she’s turned him down each time. Add to that the Ahdeed last name and she’s perfect.”

  “She’s inexperienced. How is she to tell when a man is lying? How is she to—”

  Dismissed. Twice, in as many minutes. Glynis reveled in her rising anger. She knew about men. She knew about people. “I have four older brothers. I run the Meteorological heats and all the Spring anvils. I supervise fifty-six people and—” She ticked them off on her fingers. She could do whatever they asked of her. She would do it but so help her if they brought up her past...

  “Yes, daughter but we are talking about matters of the heart.”

  “That sky isn’t so free of clouds.” Her grandfather drilled the air near her shoulder.

  “I made one stupid mistake. One.” Glynis grabbed his finger and shook it in her fist. “When I was barely two hundred, and you won’t let me live it down.”

  “I picked you because of it.” Her father smiled. “That little experience insures you won’t get caught up in the vortex that is Roland James.”

  Suspicion elbowed her anger aside. Dang. Now she knew how a storm chaser felt when a funnel cloud touched down right behind him. “Even assuming I’m willing to go out with him, what makes you think he’d go out with me?

  Her grandfather walked over to her desk and stabbed the intercom button, “Miss Port, send in Roland James.”

  Glynis quickly sat in the closest chair as Roland sauntered into her office. His grin had twisted into a smirk. She licked her dry lips. No wonder they wanted him on the Anvil. He exuded power and demanded attention, just like her father and grandfather. She swallowed a groan. If she was smart, she would whirl out the nearest window.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” His gaze pinned her to her chair. She resisted the urge to squirm. He would not be so complacent if he saw the satisfaction on her grandfather’s face.

  “Yes, I’m here as the official representative of the Anvil to ask you to speak to us tomorrow at noon. There are some points in your latest brief that need clarifying.”

  “I would like to reiterate that we wranglers couldn’t do nearly as well without the efficient staff at the M.M.P. I myself owe all my F-5's to your granddaughter.”

  “Then you should take her out to dinner tonight.” Her grandfather stated. “As a thank you.”

  “Our date is not a thank you.” Roland strai
ghtened, challenge radiated off him. “It’s personal.”

  “Good.” Her grandfather rubbed his hands together. “Good, a girl Glynis’s age needs to see more than these four walls. Come along, son. We’ve business to attend.”

  Roland dropped into the chair opposite her and rubbed his jaw. “Well, that was interesting.”

  “You thought I was going to try to get out of our date tonight, didn’t you?”

  Roland shrugged. “You never really agreed to go in the first place. I timed my exit before you could say no. Now with your grandfather’s blessing, I guess you have no choice but to realize what a great catch I am.”

  “And modest too.” Not to mention manipulative. She glanced at the portraits of her father and grandfather. It was time she did some manipulating of her own.

  “Hey, I was named Supercell’s most eligible bachelor. Your brothers were numbers two through five. Not that I should gloat about that now, all things considered.”

  “Why not now?”

  “Because of my nomination to the Anvil.”

  “You were nominated to the Anvil. Who’s retiring?”

  “Tane. You’re not a very good liar, Glynis.”

  She smiled. Yes, she was. “So what does Tane and the Anvil have to do with my brothers?”

  “One of them will undoubtedly cast the final vote. My bet is on your brother, Nat. He was a vortex of questions this past week.” Roland laid a hand on her arm, stroked her flesh through the silk sleeve. “Glynis, I’m not Tane. I’m not interested in you because of your last name, your family, or your position at the M.M.P.”

  She shook off his hand and pushed to her feet. Her past had visited too often today. She was more than her mistakes. She had to be. “What are you interested in then?”

  “You. When I’m working, I can always tell if you’re with me or not. There’s just something there.” He placed her palm against his chest. “Here. Between us. I just want an opportunity to see if it’s real, or if I’ve been hit with too many hailstones.”

  His heartbeat mirrored the pulse in her arm. Maybe she was more than the limits of her skin as well. She tugged her hand free and clasped it tightly behind her back. “I don’t think you can rule out the hailstones, but I will go out with you tonight.”