Harden My Hart

by Clare Connelly

  Or maybe it’s just the dissatisfaction that comes from realising you chased down the wrong path in life? I’ve felt that a lot lately—dissatisfaction with my choices, like I’m waking up from a strange dream and discovering I’m not where I thought I’d be. The one passion I’ve had since childhood has languished and failed to find expression, but I’m determined to change that. I think of the course I’ve applied to and excitement stirs inside of me. Why shouldn’t I follow my dreams?

  His eyes are watching me, a hint of disapproval at the corners.

  ‘What’s the matter, sir? Are you worried I won’t know what to do in the event of a crash?’

  His laugh surprises me. It’s thick and coarse, deep like the rumbling of thunder in the middle of the wet season. For a moment my breath catches in my throat.

  ‘In the event of a crash I don’t imagine anything you do will make much damned difference, Cora.’

  His cynicism is both amusing and refreshing.

  ‘I presume you signed the relevant employment forms?’

  I shake my head. ‘There wasn’t time.’

  His brows shoot up. ‘Then you need to stop working immediately.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘For litigation, for starters.’

  ‘Worried I might fall and sue you? Bankrupt you even?’

  He’s fighting a smile. Why does he do that? Why not just let it take over his face? He draws on his beer, long and slow, his eyes holding mine just like they did last time.

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Fine. I promise not to sue.’

  ‘Did you at least sign a confidentiality agreement?’

  ‘No.’

  He swears. ‘For God’s sake. Were you dragooned into service this morning or something?’

  I don’t have the same hesitation he does when it comes to smiling. I let one spread across my face and his eyes drop to it, his expression hard to read. ‘Actually, yeah.’

  ‘For God’s sake.’ He goes to press the button in his armrest but I reach across, my hand on his, shaking my head.

  ‘Everyone else is asleep. Don’t wake them. Whatever you need, I can get it.’

  ‘I can’t believe Edward didn’t cover this.’

  I liked Edward. The idea of him getting in trouble because of an administrative oversight makes me panic a little. ‘It’s not his fault. It was all very rushed.’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘Actually, it is. Do you have any idea how much work goes into getting a plane ready to fly on the spur of the moment? You should be grateful Amy managed to find a replacement, that Edward was able to get me up to speed on how your flights are run. So I didn’t sign some papers. Is that really such a big deal?’

  His eyes spark with mine. Lightning flashes between us and for a second I remember that I was supposed to be circumspect for Amy’s sake, but that doesn’t come naturally to me.

  ‘I’m not grateful. I’m pissed off.’

  ‘I can tell. But you shouldn’t be.’

  ‘You’re saying I’m wrong?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Silence. It crackles and hums.

  ‘Do you know what this is?’ He gestures to the papers in front of him. I spare them a glance then lift my shoulders. I wish I hadn’t when the shirt strains a little at the front. I resist crossing my arms.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m in negotiations to buy out Roosevelts.’ He names a famous burger chain in the States.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, it’s highly confidential. It’s an example of why everyone around me signs a confidentiality agreement. I need to know I can trust and rely on each person I work with. I don’t want to have to be guarded with what I say in your presence.’

  ‘First of all—’ I lean forward unconsciously ‘—I don’t work for you. I’ll only be around you for another five hours or so. Secondly, you just told me about your deal. I wouldn’t be any the wiser if you hadn’t blabbed it.’

  ‘Blabbed it?’ He half smiles once more and my heart rate kicks up a notch.

  ‘Revealed it,’ I correct with a shake of my head, but my own smile is lifting across my face.

  ‘You’ll need to sign an agreement before you disembark.’

  I have no problem with that and yet I say, ‘And if I don’t?’

  His eyes hold mine for several beats. ‘Then I’ll keep you on board as my prisoner.’

  Something dances down my spine. Anticipation? My mouth’s dry again. My pulse is heavy. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘I’ve recently learned that I can never rule anything out.’

  It’s like a switch has been flicked. He focuses on the papers in front of him and doesn’t look up again, so I wonder if he even knows I’m here. It’s like I’ve been dismissed and for no reason I can fathom. I was actually enjoying our sparring.

  Hell, I even enjoyed his ‘threat’ of keeping me prisoner on this plane—though I wish I didn’t. I suspect it’s some kind of betrayal to the sisterhood, but I don’t think I’d be human if I didn’t look at Holden Hart and have a few fantasies running through my brain. I’m kind of comforted by my physical response, actually. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any interest in a man, so it’s nice to feel something, even if it is inconvenient and inappropriate.

  ‘Are you done with me then, sir?’ I infuse the words with snark even when I know I shouldn’t. Jeez, he’s my boss! Okay, not my boss, but Amy’s boss, and how I act is going to reflect on her and I don’t particularly want her getting chewed out because I couldn’t curtail my responses.

  He lifts his eyes to mine and now there’s something very dangerous in their depths. Something that swirls from him to me and shifts deep into my blood. He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his gaze never dropping from my face. My breasts tingle, my nipples tightening against the soft cotton of my bra, so all I can think of is how long it’s been since a man’s touched me there. I look at his hands—big, long-fingered hands that would be capable of...

  Oh, God. Stop it!

  ‘Do you want me to be done with you?’

  The heat that threatened to fill my cheeks floods my whole body now, and it’s most powerful and full of intensity between my legs. My sex throbs, my insides churn.

  ‘I—’

  Where’s my snark gone now?

  His smile is knowing. Mocking. Sexy. My stomach rolls.

  He reaches for his papers, shuffling them into a neat pile and placing his pen on top. ‘You’re still sitting there.’

  I am. I need to move. My knees are heavy.

  I force my body into action, standing, my mind running at a thousand miles an hour, no way of discerning what I feel and want. It’s clear that I’ve been weirdly bested by this guy though.

  That’s highly unusual. I always, and I mean always, hold the upper hand. With guys, sure, but with passengers too. I don’t second-guess myself.

  ‘I’m going.’

  I take a step past him but he reaches out, grabbing my wrist. He’s looking at his phone, not me, but his thumb rubs across my inner wrist so heat is a literal lava stream in my body.

  ‘Ask the captain for a confidentiality agreement.’

  ‘Is that really necessary?’

  He looks up at me, his eyes grey like storm clouds. ‘Sign it, Cora. It’s non-negotiable.’ He drops my hand and returns his focus to his work; my wrist burns like crazy the whole time I walk away from him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Three hours out of Sydney

  TWO HOURS. THAT’S SOME kind of record, given I’ve had a hard-on since she left the cabin. I wanted to press the call button again almost straight away, but I have this sick obsession with testing myself.

  ‘You’re showing yourself to be weak-minded. Grow a backbone.’

  My father’s words
—no, not my father. The man who raised me. I make the mental correction with a grimace. He said that to me when I was thirteen years old. I don’t even remember what my supposed offence was now, just that, yet again, it was something I’d done wrong. I test myself often and that habit has its birthplace in Ryan’s little pearls of wisdom. I’m doing it now, as though waiting proves something to myself. As though waiting to see how long I can go before drawing Cora back to me proves that I’m not weak-minded.

  Cora.

  It’s an unusual name, not one I’ve heard often, but it suits her. Cora with her shimmering dark hair, eyes that are the clearest shade of brown, almost like caramel, skin that’s got the hint of a tan, but nothing like mine, and a body that is...

  What?

  So different to what I would classify as my usual ‘type’. I’ve dated a lot of models—and by date I mean fucked—in my time. I’m talking women who are almost as tall as me, lithe and slim, no breasts, no hips, and Cora definitely isn’t that. I had to use all my willpower to stop staring at the way the button-up shirt pulled across her tits.

  I lean back in the chair, closing my eyes, imagining what they’d feel like in my hands, the weight of them, the roundness of them, the softness...they’d be soft because they’re real. I mean, without inspecting them closer I couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure but they’re in proportion with the rest of her body. Nice, rounded hips and an arse that swayed as she walked away. A neat waist and a face that is...beautiful. There is no other word for it. Something about her pushed through me until I wanted to drag her out of the chair across from me, pull her into my lap and pop all the damned buttons to save her shirt the hassle.

  I had to get rid of her before she realised how close I was to acting on that impulse.

  But she didn’t want to go. She stared at me and I realised: I wasn’t alone. She wanted me too.

  Which brings me back to the whole ‘deserving a medal’ thing, because I’ve sat here on the one damned beer, checking the valuations for Roosevelts when honestly I just want to find wherever Cora’s hiding.

  In the end, at precisely the two-hour mark, sufficiently tested, I press the call button. This time I stand up, preferring to be on my feet when she enters. She only takes a few seconds to appear, which tells me she hasn’t been sleeping. I guess she’s used to flying through the night, but it’s almost dawn in LA. She must be exhausted.

  She doesn’t look it though. Her eyes lift to mine and there’s that same insouciant challenge in them that flared in her features before.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  Businesslike, crisp. I wonder if she has any idea how sexy I find that.

  ‘How do you know Miss Hancock?’

  The fingers of one hand fidget at her side. She doesn’t strike me as someone who’d fidget.

  ‘We used to work together.’

  I frown. ‘She’s been with Hart for six years.’

  ‘Right. Before that.’

  I nod. ‘And you’re still close enough that she’d call you to fill in for her at a moment’s notice?’

  Her frown is a little quirk of her lips. Her face is so expressive; I can read her like a book. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’

  ‘Six years is a long time. Presumably you fly a lot? I know she does.’

  ‘Hmm, then again, there’s email, Facebook—you know, ways to keep in touch when we’re not in the same city.’ She winks, and a little dimple digs itself into her cheek. My cock strains at my pants. I want her.

  ‘Did you need something?’

  It’s like she can read my mind. ‘Yes: company. Sit down.’

  She doesn’t move. ‘Another order?’

  ‘If you like.’

  Her eyes flare wider, just by a few degrees, but enough to make me wonder if that’s exactly what she’d like. To be told what to do, to be commanded.

  ‘You haven’t slept all flight. Aren’t you tired?’

  I take a step forward. Her eyes widen further still. ‘No.’

  The pulse point at the base of her throat shows a fine throbbing. I stare at it for a moment, transfixed. I want Cora; it doesn’t occur to me that I won’t get her.

  ‘You know, I never get involved with people who work for me.’

  She’s quiet. I move closer. She stands her ground, her eyes holding mine.

  ‘I break a lot of rules, but never that one.’

  Her breasts move sharply with each intake of breath. My fingers ache to catch them, to weigh them in my palms, to feel them.

  ‘Why do you break rules, Holden?’

  Not Mr Hart. Holden. It’s so hot on her pouting lips. I want to make her scream my name. Grateful my hangover’s dissipated—beer helps with that—I take one more step. Two more and my chest will be against those soft breasts of hers.

  ‘It’s a lot of fun. Haven’t you heard?’

  She swallows, her throat moving convulsively with the effort.

  ‘And you?’

  She frowns, fine lines forming between her brows. ‘And me what?’

  ‘Do you break the rules, or play by them?’

  ‘I—’

  Another swallow, her frown deepens. ‘I think rules serve a purpose. They’re there to guide us.’

  I make a throaty noise of approval even when I disagree.

  ‘Anyway...’ She clears her throat and moves backwards infinitesimally.

  I’m enjoying this way too much.

  ‘Anyway,’ I murmur, smiling. Her breath catches in her throat; her eyes drop to my mouth. Her fingers fidget a little more.

  ‘Sir...’

  It’s a pleading sound. Satisfaction envelops me.

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t sign the official employment forms.’

  She swallows. ‘Are you?’

  ‘It’d be a waste.’

  ‘Of what?’

  Another step.

  ‘Of this.’

  Her chin lifts, her eyes defiant. ‘What?’

  But I know she feels it. One more step and I have to bite back a groan when my chest presses to the tip of her breasts so I feel her hard nipples against me and want to devour her whole.

  ‘You don’t feel it?’ She has to tilt her head to look up at me. Up close, she smells like summer. Coconut, vanilla and sea spray. ‘I expected better from you, Cora.’

  Her nostrils flare a little as she expels a breath; it’s warm against my throat. I want to kiss her. I want to fuck her.

  Okay, I need to fuck her. And I know it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me and my headspace right now, but I don’t give a shit. She’s here and if I can get her into bed maybe I’ll stop my damned head from thinking just long enough to get some peace.

  ‘Well? Are we ignoring this or not?’

  * * *

  I look up at him, my body at complete odds with my brain. I can’t think of a single reason to say no to him. I don’t actually work for the Harts. And it’s not like I’m going to get Amy in trouble. This isn’t fooling around with another crew member or a pilot. This is Holden freaking Hart. There won’t be any repercussions for Amy if I decide to sleep with him.

  This is all about what I want, and what he’s offering.

  My heart punches within my chest. I stay where I am but God, I want to push forward. My breasts are tingling from the light contact with his chest. My body is on fire. I haven’t been with a guy in over a year.

  Yeah, I’ve been lonely, and the idea of having sex with someone catches me unawares. I’m beyond tempted.

  Not because it’s Holden Hart, not because he’s incredibly hot, but because I want to remember what it feels like to be kissed, touched, to be human. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.

  I wonder if there are reasons I’m missing, reasons I should walk away from this, but I really can’t think of one. All I know i
s that if I get off the plane without following through on this impulse I’ll regret it. I’ve made a few decisions in my life that I wish I could do over, and I don’t want him to be one of them.

  I want him, and I want to do this. There isn’t a shred of doubt in my mind.

  A thrill of pleasurable anticipation ignites in the pit of my stomach. I smile slowly, my eyes meeting his. It’s madness, but I don’t care.

  ‘Cora?’

  There’s impatience in his tone. I like that. Or, rather, how much he wants me is a bit of a power trip, even when I feel exactly the same strength of desire for him.

  ‘I’m thinking,’ I say, tilting my head to the side to consider this.

  ‘Maybe there’s something I could do to help you make up your mind?’

  My heart steps up a beat. ‘Such as?’

  His grin is the last word in sensual promise. I can barely stand. ‘Let’s see.’ He moves his hands to the button at the waistband of my trousers. He holds my gaze, a droll challenge in his expression as he flicks it open then slides the zip down. A tremble of want moves from the base of my stomach to between my shoulder blades, but I stay right where I am.

  His fingers catch on the elastic of my underpants, pulling at them gently, pushing them down a little so I hold my breath as his hands connect with my bare flesh. I have to bite down on my lip to stop from moaning.

  I know I could stop this if I wanted to, but I don’t. God, I really don’t. Suddenly, I can’t believe it’s been a year since I had sex. And how long before Grant? Another year? I deserve this, damn it! I almost laugh, so excited by the prospect of what’s about to happen, but any hint of amusement is strangled in my throat the second his finger moves lower, sliding deep into my underpants and probing my flesh.

  ‘What if I told you I could make you feel better than you’ve ever known possible?’ The words are husky with sensual promise.

  I close my eyes a second, needing to remember how to breathe—something which feels easier when I’m not looking at Holden Hart. ‘I’d say you’re full of confidence in your abilities.’

  ‘With good reason.’

  His finger pushes inside of me and I groan then, unable to stop myself, unable to think. I’m all instinct and reaction.