Beyond Bliss (11 page)

So that he’d have time to figure things out.

And all he’d ended up doing was royally screw up.

The day after their rendezvous, he’d waited for her to slap a sexual harassment suit on him.

Or quit.

But she’d done neither.

Instead, she treated him with a casual indifference that made him see red. As if the chemistry they shared, what they’d done, had no impact on her.

And now he was stuck, bent out of shape—figuratively
and
literally—with no relief in sight. The minute he’d set his eyes on her at the gate, his body responded. Her delightful ass and thighs were poured into tight stretchy black pants. A short, fitted blazer offset any bagginess from the oversized cream silk shirt she wore underneath. Her shapely calves were tucked into knee length black leather boots with a spike heel. He briefly entertained the image of her on her back with nothing on except the boots, wrapped around his waist and groaned.

The flight from New York to Honolulu was almost eleven hours long. If he didn’t take care of himself at some point during the flight, his blue balls were going to turn indigo.

Eyes everywhere but on her, his gaze landed on his briefcase and he was struck with a moment of brilliance. He pulled his laptop out of the case he’d stowed under the seat and pulled the tray out of the armrest before booting up his MacBook.

He could artfully conceal his erection and get some work done at the same time.

Who said multi-tasking was inefficient?

“They’re going to make you put it away,” she muttered next to him.

He nearly choked at her words, but when he turned to look at her, she motioned to his computer. Unable to formulate a retort, he grunted before turning back to his machine. On the loudspeaker, the flight attendant droned on before announcing that the doors to the plane had closed.

He was in the process of pulling up the financials for a small acquisition when a throat cleared politely next to him.

“Excuse me sir, but I have to ask that you stow your computer and tray. The pilot will notify us when electronic devices can be turned on. It should only be about twenty minutes.” The flight attendant was diminutive in size, but despite her friendly smile, her eyes were hard.

He glared at her before doing as she asked.

“Told you,” Sophie muttered under her breath.

He turned to look at her. If she made eye contact with him, she wouldn’t notice the party on his lap.

But the music in the party only turned up.

He shifted quickly and yanked a magazine out of the back pocket of the seat in front of him, settling it in his lap.

“It occurs to me, Miss Harlow, that I didn’t solicit your advice.”

His heart swelled when her apathetic mask slipped. Even if it slipped because she was smirking, it was still something.

And God, she was stunning, even with just a corner of her lush mouth turned up. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled with humor for a moment before she composed herself.

“I don’t care if you solicited it or not, Sinclair. I shouldn’t have to die in a plane crash because you can’t listen to instructions.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.

“When they tell you to shut off your electronics, they’re doing it for a reason,” she stubbornly insisted. He tried to ignore the adorable way her chin jut out, and it was then he noticed both of her hands were clenched tight on either armrest.

He squinted at her. “Are you afraid to fly, Miss Harlow?”

She huffed and stared at the movie trailer playing on the LCD screen on the back of the headrest in front of her. “Of course not.”

She spoke confidently, but she was lying. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was going to be okay, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he couldn’t control the words that came out.

“Just make sure there’s a doggie bag around. Don’t want to sit here wiping your puke off for the next eleven hours.” He mentally counted.

One.

Two.

And she didn’t disappoint – the well-deserved glare to his asshole remark was directed at him in less than three seconds.

It was going to be an interesting mile high experience.

*****

Liz's recommendation to get through the flight had been a baby Benadryl and two glasses of wine.

Even though she'd glared at her friend, she couldn't keep herself from purchasing the small box containing the medication at a Hudson News stand in the airport. When the plane got off to a rough ascent, she’d quickly popped a tiny pink pill in her mouth and chewed.

She didn’t know which was worse—having to be in a confined space for half of her day or sitting next to Lucas Sinclair for the same amount of time.

Of course it had been her awful luck that she’d been seated next to him.

She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His large frame dominated their side of the row, but he sat back casually at ease as his fingers flew over the keyboard on his laptop.

It would be so easy to lift the arm separating their seats and snuggle into him.

She scowled once she realized the direction in which her thoughts were headed.

Stupid Liz and her stupid ideas.

Given her recent past with poor decision-making, adding any mind-altering substances to the mix was a poor judgment call.

“Everything okay, Miss Harlow?”

She snapped her head back to her Kindle and tried to focus on the words on the screen. She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he’d asked the question with his trademark, overbearing arch of a brow.

“I’m fine,” she muttered irritably.

She sipped at the little amount of wine left in her glass.

“Just remember where the doggie bag is,” he replied.

Asshole.

Her fingers itched to slap his beautiful face, but she chose not to dignify him with a response.

Miraculously, she managed to focus on her novel, and she finally began to relax as a pleasant, lightweight feeling seeped through her brain.

It could have been minutes or a few hours, but when the plane shook, she quickly jolted out of her snooze. Instantly alert, all traces of sleep left her system, and she couldn’t help the mild panic that swept over her. Wild-eyed, she looked around.

How could all of these other people peacefully doze off?

Her nails dug into her palm when turbulence hit again, and she fought the urge to cry.

Flying sucked hairy donkey balls.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the pilot has turned the fasten seatbelt indicator on as we encounter mild turbulence up ahead. Please limit moving around the cabin while the indicator is lit.”

Her heart raced as she listened to the announcement on the loudspeaker. The turbulence wasn’t over, and she would probably work herself into a panic by the end of it.

She bit back a scream when the cabin rocked again.

“It’s okay,” a deep voice rumbled next to her. A large hand sprinkled with a light smattering of dark hair covered the hand she gripped tightly on the armrest.

“I hate flying,” she whispered, raising her eyes to him.

“I’m beginning to realize that,” he said dryly, but despite the trace of humor in his voice, his eyes were warm and understanding.

“You know you have a better chance of dying in a car accident than a plane crash, right?”

She groaned. “Can we please not talk about plane crashes or death while we’re in flight?”

“Right. Um, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Close your eyes.”

She turned to look at him. “Huh?”

“Just listen to me,” he demanded impatiently. “Trust me.”

She was still confused, but she obeyed.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructed next.

She listened and decided to take a few more, too. Her hand felt tiny in comparison to his large, comforting one. It galled her to admit it, but it helped.

“What’s one of the best things that happened to you as a kid?”

He was trying to distract her. She’d tried these tactics before, but to no avail. She decided to humor him anyway.

“It was the Christmas I turned seven. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but my parents gave me everything I needed, and my dad worked really hard. I’d gone out that morning to ride my bike after we opened presents. Anyway, I’d left my bike in the front yard, and I ran inside to go grab something. I don’t even remember what it was, but when I came back, my bike was gone.” She grimaced at the memory. “I went back inside, hysterically crying. My mom wasn’t very sympathetic. She told me that I should have locked it up before leaving it unattended, but my dad didn’t say anything. He just picked up his keys and left the house.”

A small smile flirted around the corner of her lips before she spoke again. “Anyway, I was a big-time Daddy’s girl. I was so scared I had disappointed him, just like my mom. Mom was upset because Dad had taken off, and that just made it even worse.” Images from the memory danced across her closed eyes. “Hours later, after we were supposed to sit down for Christmas dinner, he came back. I remember the air was freezing when he opened the door to come inside the house. I was just so happy he was home; I almost didn’t even notice the bicycle he wheeled in. It was pink, my favorite color, and it had streamers coming from the handlebars. I don’t even know how he managed to get it, because all of the stores were closed for the holiday. But he must have driven for hours, just to find it for me. He made me feel like a princess, like I was the most important person in the world. I still have the bike in storage. I wouldn’t let my mom get rid of it when we moved.”

“You sound like you’re very close,” he murmured.

She kept her eyes closed as other memories, unwanted, fought their way into her mind.  “We were,” she said softly.  “Cancer took him away from us when I was in college.”

They both fell silent. She opened her eyes to look at him and was taken aback by the warmth in his gaze. He looked almost ….

Tender?

She unfurled her hand from underneath his and tried to pull away, but he held fast. “It worked,” she laughed uncomfortably. “The turbulence is gone. You can let go now.”

“I’ve known Sean since we were kids,” he started slowly. Puzzled, she searched his face, but understanding dawned as he continued. “I have lots of great memories, but one of my favorites is the summer we were eleven. My sister Grace is five years younger, so she would have been eight. Sean slept over at my house a lot and even though we were always really close, he and Grace fought like cats and dogs. They still do, in fact. But one night, he somehow snuck into her room and sawed off one of her pigtails.”

She gasped in horror. “Oh no!”

He laughed, little lines crinkling around his eyes, and she realized she’d never truly seen him laugh. She’d seen him flirt, she’d seen him angry and temperamental or seductive and charming, but he’d never laughed out loud like he meant it. The sound rumbled through his large frame, and his eyes sparkled with humor.

And the slow burn of arousal flamed once more.

Thankfully, he was oblivious to her condition, and he continued on. “Oh yes! Anyway, Grace gave back as good as she got. She didn’t tattle, but two mornings later, we woke up and all of Sean’s Hot Wheels—collectibles, keep in mind—had undergone a fresh paint job. In pink and glitter nail polish. I think that was the first and last time I’ve ever seen him in tears.”

She giggled at the image of a young, mischievous Sean brought low by a little girl. “Poor Sean.”

“You have a great laugh,” he murmured quietly. “You should laugh more often.” He leaned in closer, his hand still on hers.

Something in the air had definitely changed.

“So should you,” she said softly, unable to look away from him. Her breathing quickened, and it was a miracle he couldn’t hear her heart beat, it was pounding that loud. His magnetic presence pulled at every nerve in her body.

It would be so easy to just relax and let things play out.

She studied the planes of his jaw, the sharp slope of his nose. Physically, he resembled a Greek god, but she’d seen men more handsome before. Her ex-fiancé, Zach, was one of them. He’d always looked like he’d stepped off the cover of GQ. And like Lucas, he was incredibly wealthy.

And like Lucas, he had no qualms about throwing his money around to get what he wanted.

Reality doused over her like a bucket of freezing water.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, pulling away. “I need to use the restroom.”

He pulled back, confusion written all over his face, but he put away his tray and stepped into the aisle to let her through. Even though she tried to keep her distance, the space was so cramped, that it was impossible for her to get out without brushing her body against his. She kept her head down and made her way to the lavatory, but she could feel his eyes boring into her from behind.

Once inside, she latched the handle before she leaned against the door, exhaling deeply. This man scrambled her brains. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up right where he wanted her.