Manhattan Holiday

by Linda Engman

  “Good morning. I’m ready,” she told him, moving awkwardly to the side so he could enter her apartment. “My suitcase is over there, along with my garment bag with my…ah…the wedding dress.”

  She noticed he glanced over her small apartment quickly before resting his eyes on her luggage and accompanying garment bag draped over the back of the sofa. He looked down at her and raised a brow. “One suitcase and your wedding dress? That’s very efficient of you, Miss Sutton,” he commented, with a trace of mocking humor.

  She bristled. “We’ll only be gone a few days, so I didn’t think more things were needed. Besides, it’s not like I’m going on a vacation to actually enjoy myself.”

  Having no reply, he gave her a burning look, effortlessly picked up her bags, and turned to head out the door. April quickly slipped on her black fur-trimmed coat, took her handbag and apartment keys, then double-checked that her fireplace, twinkle lights, and the Christmas tree were all turned off before she securely locked the apartment door.

  She raced down the steps and caught up to him outside. He tossed her suitcase into the back of his black SUV along with the garment bag and held the passenger door for her. She climbed in and murmured her thanks, wondering what made her snap at him. She knew he’d only been teasing her and hadn’t meant anything from his quick comment about her lack of luggage. She was being overly sensitive when it came to this situation.

  And she had a sneaking suspicion why: because she knew she wasn’t his first choice as a wife—albeit a temporary one—and she couldn’t help wanting to be.

  What is so wrong with wanting to be the first choice instead of the default bride?

  She pushed her typical female thoughts aside and kept quiet as he weaved through the busy city traffic. The vehicles ahead of them were creeping along, due to the snow that continued to fall lightly in the late morning hour. Even with the delays, in no time at all they were pulling into the bustling airport, making everything seem more real with each passing minute.

  Entering the airfield, he surprised her by turning his SUV in the direction where the private jets were hangered. After being checked by security, they drove past one hanger then another; too many to count. He finally pulled up next to one and hopped out, coming around to open her door and help her out before retrieving her bags. The compact jet waiting for them on the tarmac was black and silver and had a very small emblem on the side that she recognized as his construction company’s logo. The steps were already lowered, and a man exited the plane, came over to greet them and exchanged words with Roman, before driving away in the SUV they had just gotten out of. She swallowed hard, momentarily caught off guard by the fact they were to travel in private jet. With astonishment, she realized she was now in a whole new world of the private, privileged, and powerful.

  April took a deep breath to steady her rattled nerves while he led her toward the plane. Climbing the flight of steps now dusted with snow, she suddenly felt on the verge of a mini panic attack, wondering if she was crazy for doing what she was doing. Her breath became uneven, and her heart beat wildly under her coat and sweater. Roman Vasquez, his private jet, and his fast-paced lifestyle were overwhelming. And today was only the beginning.

  Inside the cozy aircraft she found luxury everything. The decor was black and sleek and reminded her of his apartment—and unnerved her all the more. She looked about uneasily. He instructed her to take off her coat, find a seat, and get buckled in before he disappeared into the cockpit.

  A few minutes later, with her coat removed and sitting securely buckled, she felt the jet engines come to life with a powerful hum and rumble. Now in even more of a panic, she became lightheaded as the plane started to move. Where is he? What is he doing? She felt almost hysterical, wishing he would come back. She took another deep, ragged breath as he finally reentered the cabin, a serious look on his face.

  “April, you’re pale,” he growled, sounding both annoyed and worried. Kneeling beside her, he took one of her clammy hands in his and raised his other to her cold cheek. “Don’t you like flying?”

  She shrugged weakly, her voice shaky. “I’m usually fine on big airplanes. I think it’s all catching up with me, and I didn’t have anything to eat yet today,” she murmured, feeling like a complete ninny.

  “Hold tight. As soon as we’re airborne I’ll get you something to eat,” he promised, taking the seat next to hers to buckle himself in. He surprised her once again when he reached over and took her cold hand in his large warm one, caressing her wrist with his thumb. His touch was feather light and sensual. It cured her nervousness all right—but replaced it with a shockwave of heat that raced through her already stressed body.

  “Feeling better?” he asked minutes later, as the plane leveled off, his brown eyes watching her closely.

  Better, but definitely warmer and aroused. Thank you very much. She pulled her wrist from his hand and nodded. “Yes. Much better…thanks,” she answered awkwardly, embarrassed by what had passed between them.

  To make matters worse, he then ran a hand over her forehead, used the back to caress her flushed cheek, and finally threaded it behind her neck to check her body temperature. “Man, you’re warm,” he breathed, glancing into her eyes as if looking for some kind of medical sign that she might be coming down with something infectious. “Sure you’re up to traveling? You’re kind of hot.”

  Same to you, mister—totally hot in my book. She batted his hand away and frowned convincingly. “Will you stop? I’m fine. And don’t look so worried. I promise not to keel over before you get me to the altar.”

  His expression carried a strained tinge to it, but he nodded amicably. “I’ll get you something to eat if you think you can handle it?”

  Now that’s what I like to hear. “Cooking for me again?”

  He stood and looked down at her. “It seems as if it’s becoming a habit,” he observed, releasing one of his lopsided grins. “Is a sandwich okay? I have the plane stocked with food from my favorite restaurant before takeoff.”

  She nodded, and he disappeared into the back of the jet’s mini-galley. In minutes he was back with a china plate containing a gourmet wrap sandwich, fresh strawberries, and a bottle of water. He handed her the plate and got one for himself. Once again he took the seat next to hers, which surprised her a bit—and unnerved her a lot.

  The jet contained six seats and a short couch. And Roman Vasquez chose to sit right next to her, stretching out his long jean-clad legs. She took a bite of her sandwich and slid a glance in his direction. He’d taken off his black suede jacket, and underneath he wore a plain dark gray T-shirt. His naturally tanned skin looked warm against the cold tones of the gray, and her mind flashed back to how muscular and warm his chest had felt as he kissed her.

  She looked away quickly and tried to refocus on her lunch. At the same time, she told herself to grow up and stop fantasizing about what had happened the night before. Obviously he had already forgotten it. She should too.

  Somehow she managed to finish half her sandwich while he wolfed down three effortlessly. By the time he took their plates, she felt much better and definitely more relaxed. She didn’t know if it was the food or if she was finally accepting what was to happen.

  Whatever it was, she was determined to enjoy the luxury of traveling in a private jet—and all the other perks that came with being Roman Vasquez’s temporary wife.

  He took the seat next to hers again, and she decided to take the opportunity to ask some questions. “Could you please tell me why our plans changed and exactly where we are headed?”

  He turned and glanced down at her, his brown eyes now tinted with impatience. “I thought I’d let it be a surprise,” he mocked, turning away to open his slim laptop computer. “I take it we’re done sharing? I have a ton of work to do.”

  “No, I’m not done,” she bit back, not liking his high-handedness. “I think I deserve to know where I’m going and why.”

  He released a long, tired sigh and turned to
look at her again with a flat expression. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who doesn’t like surprises.”

  “Actually…you’re right. I don’t like surprises. I like—”

  “—to be in control,” he finished. “Sorry to tell you this, but I’m in control now.”

  “Fine, play Neanderthal man if you want. Can you at least tell me why the plans changed overnight? I thought we had the wedding details all worked out?”

  Surprisingly enough, he looked embarrassed for a brief moment before reluctantly answering. “Not every detail,” he dragged out. “All right, I guess I might as well confess. You’ll find out soon enough as it is.” He gave her another awkward glance. “My mother tried calling me last night and couldn’t get through so she called Alex, my assistant. He let it slip that I was busy signing my life away. I’m seriously rethinking his year-end bonus.”

  April blinked twice and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You mean your mother knows what’s going on? Are we going there now?”

  He released another tired sigh, shrugging his broad shoulders. “There was no way out of it. The minute my mother found out, she insisted we have the ceremony at her house. My first thought was no way in hell, but in hindsight, it will work to our advantage. It’ll look more legit with us getting married with family present.”

  April felt her temper rise with each word he spoke. “But…but…your family will expect us to act as if we’re…well…you know,” she sputtered, not believing how complicated things were getting.

  He looked at her innocently. “Like what? That we’re in love? And wanna get naked together every chance we get?” he teased, sounding like he was enjoying himself.

  “Yes! Exactly! ” she squeaked. “That wasn’t in the deal I signed last night.”

  Acting as if it happened to him every day, he smiled with a devilish quality. “Relax. Everything will work out. A few kisses, holding hands, and some hot looks. It’ll be easy.”

  “Speak for yourself,” she snipped back, loathing his cavalier attitude.

  He raised one dark winged brow at her disparaging tone. “Wow, you’re an incredible boost to a guy’s manhood.”

  “I’m not kidding. It was bad enough to think of fooling my friends and boss, but now we’re talking about your mother—and if I’m right, you probably have a ton of relatives and friends she’s already informed.” Her voice raised an octave higher with each word. “I never though I would actually have to meet your mother and sister. I thought we agreed only to inform them. That was all.”

  “What about your sister? The one on vacation in Mexico? Hadn’t you planned to tell her? Wouldn’t she be curious to meet me?” he asked, sounding nonplused about the whole thing.

  “Yes, but unlike you outright lying to your loved ones, I on the other hand was going to be honest and tell my sister about the marriage contract and why I signed it. Good God, I never planned to actually take you home to Ohio to meet my family.”

  He gave her a menacing frown. “Jeez, thanks.” His face softened slightly. “Will you relax and chill a little before you get yourself all hyper? Trust me, you’ll like my family. Besides, in reality, they were going to want to meet you eventually. I doubt I could put my mother and sister off for long. And once the media saw the record of our marriage listed, they were going to find out anyway, so we might as well get the whole family thing over with up front.”

  “Media?” she whispered weakly, feeling like she had jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

  “Yeah, the newspapers and blogs. If you don’t already know, I’m big gossip material. Trust me. The last thing I want is to end up in them. Usually I’m so busy working that I’m too boring to report on, which suits me fine. But the minute I go out on a date or go out around town, I find my photo splashed on the next day’s gossip page,” he admitted, sounding disgusted at the way his privacy was routinely invaded. “If you read the papers or blogs, you must have seen me in them.”

  “As fascinating as you think you are, Mr. Vasquez, I always skip over the gossip section, and only read the relevant parts of the paper or on-line news,” she deadpanned.

  With a long, weary sigh, he took both of his hands and dragged them down his face. “Oh, man,” he moaned in frustration. “Can we just stay on the subject of my mother?”

  She sat upright and simmered. “Please, by all means.”

  He eyed her closely before continuing. “Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are when my mother called me at six o’clock this morning and started right in about the wedding.”

  “Believe me—nothing about you surprises me anymore,” she said miserably. She wished she’d thought more before agreeing to his ridiculous marriage deal.

  “Well, everything about you surprises me,” he replied, his voice suddenly harsh and unrelenting. He ripped his dark gaze from her surprised one before rising to his feet in one swift movement.

  Speechless, she watched as he stomped over to take another seat, reopening his computer, but not before he grabbed his iPod and plugged the headphones into his ears with jerky, angry movements.

  In the relative quiet of the cabin, over the hushed whine of the jet engines, she could hear the faint sound of rock music while he began to type nonstop on his laptop, ignoring her completely. In turn she pulled out her book and pretended to read; she didn’t want him to think he was the only one who could disregard what had happened between them.

  After twenty frustrating minutes, she admitted defeat.

  It was useless to try and concentrate. Her mind was now preoccupied with wanting to know what lay ahead. She closed her book and looked out the window, seeing little of anything below. With no clues as to where they were going, she resolved herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to tell her anything.

  Arrogant, stubborn man. Not that it mattered. They were still getting married, whether it was in New York or somewhere tropical and warm.

  She glanced at him, at the same time he suddenly looked over to her, making her quickly look away. She felt absolutely ridiculous, like she’d been caught leering at the cute boy in class. Her face warmed on cue, and she knew she was blushing. So much for trying to act cool.

  He leaned across and tapped her on the shoulder, motioning to his headphones. She frowned and shook her head in refusal. She had her own MP3 in her handbag. Besides, the last thing she wanted to do was to listen to his annoying head-banging rock music. She was peeved enough without being irritated by mind-numbing noise.

  Not to be outdone, he rose from his seat and plunked the earpieces into her ears, laughing as her eyes widened and her mouth opened with shock from the loud music. She tried to pull them out, but he held them in place while she glared into his dark eyes.

  In vain she attempted to pry his hands away, but he wouldn’t budge. Resigned to the fact he was going to torture her with rock music, she sat back and listened. Despite her protests, by the time the first song ended she was actually enjoying the music; easily appreciating the lead singer’s unique voice and the heartfelt lyrics.

  Cautiously he removed his hands, looking smug and satisfied. She gave him another grimace just for the fun of it.

  He retook his seat, and she studied him as he pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and perused through them with a scrutinizing eye. With fortitude she pulled her gaze from him and glanced out the window again, marveling in the intricate complexities of Roman Vasquez.

  He was a commanding force all on his own: badgering, annoying, irritating, and self-absorbed.

  And very surprising.

  Chapter Six

  April felt a tap on her shoulder, which changed to a full-out nudge as someone tried to wake her. She sat up and opened her lids, only to find she was staring into the dark force of Roman Vasquez’s eyes. His gaze captured hers for a full minute before he stood, a guarded look on his face as his mouth formed a tight line.

  “We’ll be landing soon. You have time to change into something cooler if you want. I pu
t your bag in there.” He pointed to the back of the aircraft.

  She nodded and thanked him, wondering how long she’d been asleep. The last thing she remembered before nodding off was the music coming to an end, with the final song uncharacteristically slow and romantic. She made her way to the compact cabin, closed the door and glanced about the closet-sized room. Her bag sat on the narrow bed, and she pulled out one of the figure-hugging sundresses she’d packed. Taking off her sweater and jeans, she also did away with her bra and quickly slipped on the soft peach-colored dress, smoothing it into place. With its built-in bra, all she had to do was adjust the tiny straps of the garment, turning to find a mirror on the back of the door. She next shook her head, tousling her long hair until it looked good. Out of her purse she retrieved her lip-gloss and quickly applied a light coating before slipping on a pair of Steve Madden platform-heeled sandals. Once she’d packed up her things, she opened the door and walked out.

  He stood when she reentered the cabin. The proper gentlemen-like gesture wasn’t lost on her, and it made her aware of her own femininity. Or it might have been from the way his dark gaze was currently running over every square inch of her. She noted he swallowed hard and strangely enough, almost looked a little lost for a second.

  “Wow…that’s…that’s a really pretty dress.” His deep voice broke slightly before he cleared his throat.

  She gave him a quick smile. “Thank you.” She took her seat again and watched as he stared at her with a strange, almost painful expression. “Should I buckle up?”

  “Uh…yeah…that would be a good idea.” He finally pulled his gaze off her before retaking the seat across the aisle.

  Disappointed, she tried to shrug it off and told herself it didn’t matter where he sat. This was business, not personal. But the sting was still there.

  Refocusing on her travel anxiety, she realized they were beginning to descend. She also took note of how he occasionally glanced her way with a look of concern, obviously wondering if she was going to freak out on him as she had on takeoff. Not wanting to again seem like a nutcase, she took a deep breath and told herself she could handle it on her own.