Seeing White

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Seeing White Page 26

by Charlotte E Hart


  “Right,” is all I can manage because I’m seriously too busy trying to keep myself upright at the thoughts floating around my head. I really need to work on my responses.

  He chuckles at me and moves to grab my suitcase.

  “Come on, let’s get to Rome. We have a lot to do and not much time to do it in,” he says, taking my hand in his.

  Well, yes, quite.

  ~

  The journey is swift, and before I know it we’re pulling through a set of steel gates. It’s clearly not Heathrow. I have no idea where the hell we are.

  “Where are we?” I ask, still sipping the vanilla latte that was miraculously waiting for me in the car.

  “The airport,” he replies quizzically, lifting that eyebrow.

  “Really? Where’s the terminal and everything else then?” I ask, genuinely confused.

  “Oh, I see what you mean. That is a bit problematic, isn’t it?” He laughs, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

  “What are you laughing at now?” I lower my head to the floor and blush. “You’re forever laughing at me.” He tips my head to his and growls.

  “Head up, always, unless I say otherwise.” He turns my face toward the window and kisses my cheek. “God, you make me smile, Elizabeth. There is the terminal and everything else.” He points out toward the tarmac and I stare in awe at the beautifully sleek grey jet that is slowly lowering its steps. Holy crap. He owns a plane? Of course he owns a plane, you bloody idiot. Why did I not realise this? How much bloody money has the man got?

  “Oh God, I never thought you’d own a plane. Umm... Well done, you,” I exclaim rather idiotically.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Do you like it?” he asks casually. I can feel his eyes on me as I continue to gawp at a tall, thin man in uniform walking down the steps.

  “Yes, it’s wonderful, beautiful. Umm, was it expensive?” I can’t stop myself rambling. Of course it was expensive. I am such a basket case. Could I look any more ridiculous?

  He chuckles. “Yes, it was rather costly,” he replies, opening his door.

  I reach for the handle but the door is opened for me and Andrews offers his hand. Before I can take it, though, Alex appears at his side, clasps on and escorts me to the plane with his eyes pinned in front of him.

  “Good morning, sir,” the uniformed man says, looking toward me and smiling.

  “Good morning, Phillip. Elizabeth, this is Phillip Cramer. He is our pilot,” Alex says, putting his arm around my waist.

  “Good Morning, Mr. Cramer. I trust you know what you’re doing with this rather impressive plane and that I’m in safe hands?” I try for nonchalant and chic to regain some sort of composure. Maybe it’s working. Who knows?

  “Yes, Miss Scott, and please call me Phillip.” He smirks and offers his hand to help me up the stairs.

  I feel Alex bristle beside me and turn, quirking an eyebrow at him. His demeanour is still cool but his eyes much less so. As I reach to grab onto Phillips’ hand, Alex puts his in the way and lifts my hand from Phillip’s into his own, clasping on again rather possessively.

  “I’ll help Miss Scott, Phillip. Please get ready to take off. Who is stewarding this morning?” he almost sneers. What is his problem all of a sudden?

  “Of course, sir. Tara is on board already.” He smiles meekly and walks up the stairs in front of us.

  “What was all that about?” I ask as we climb.

  “All what about?” Alex replies, his calm eyes back again.

  “Your attitude change,” I say in disbelief. Does he think I didn’t notice? “Did he do something wrong?”

  “You noticed that?” he asks in surprise.

  “Of course. Your hackles were up as if you were about to launch at him, somewhat like your reaction to James yesterday. I could hardly ignore it. I doubt Phillip did either.”

  “Very astute, Miss Scott. I’ll have to work harder at hiding my feelings from you. And Phillip will be well aware that he wasn’t meant to ignore it. James will wait for another time.” He smiles and then frowns a little.

  “What have your feelings got to do with it?” I ask, genuinely bemused as we climb. He stops and turns my face to his.

  “Everything, Elizabeth. He touched you. I didn’t like it. Nobody touches something that belongs to me unless they’re given permission to do so.” He gazes at me, waiting for a reaction.

  It probably isn’t the time to go off on a tirade about me being personal property, and besides, I find myself actually enjoying the statement he’s made. It makes me feel protected and cherished, somewhat bizarrely. Still, I narrow my eyes slightly.

  “Mmm... But please don’t hide your feelings. Interestingly you don’t seem to be very good at hiding them anyway.” I smile and brush my hand across his jaw. “From me, at least.”

  We stand for a minute and simply gaze at each other in the wind as I watch all sorts of emotions cross his beautiful face.

  “You will be the death of me. I’m sure of it,” he eventually says, turning and pulling me along behind him into the plane.

  An incredibly beautiful blonde woman waits at the entrance hatch as we enter the plane. She’s nearly as tall as Alex with a stewardess uniform on that hugs her curves very effectively. The smile she’s wearing as she looks at him is sheer sexual magnetism. She’s a predator who has most definitely been there before. Shit. Her eyes caress every inch of his body languidly, no intention of even glancing at me, as if such an effort is beneath her for some reason. Utter bitch is written all over her, unfortunately wonderful, face. I hate her immediately.

  I look at Alex from beneath my lashes, quietly from the side, trying to gauge his reaction. His face is surprisingly impassive, almost bored.

  “Good morning, sir. It’s nice to see you again. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to make the last flight. I was in America with Mr. Avery,” she says with a husky tone as she licks her lips. Really? She was with Conner. Probably slept with him as well then. Slut.

  “No Problem, Tara. This is my girlfriend, Miss Scott. Please do your job efficiently today and give us some space so we can indulge ourselves fully,” he replies rather harshly, squeezing my hand as he leads us through. Go, Alex.

  I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips as I look toward her and her beautiful face turns slightly sour, and girlfriend? That’s an interesting statement.

  “Yes, of course, sir. Good morning, Miss Scott,” she says through gritted teeth.

  “Hello, Tara.” I seriously can’t manage anything else through my girly giggling. “Wow. This is spectacular,” I exclaim, taking a look around the exquisite interior of the plane.

  “This was my first real toy. I lavished every expense on her. I like to fly in comfort and it just makes the whole experience more pleasurable, don’t you think?” he says with his hands in his pockets, waiting for my reply.

  “I’m sure it does. I’ll tell you the truth when we reach Rome,” I eventually reply, still gazing at the luxury that dominates every inch of the space.

  “Let’s get you strapped in,” he says, chuckling and smiling rather adorably at me.

  He leads me toward two low leather chairs in the middle of the plane next to the windows, which face each other. A table sits between them, and as he pulls my coat from me and brushes his hand across my collarbone, instant hot prickles creep up my neck. I’m practically panting for him to kiss me but his eyes hold mine for a moment before he promptly pushes me backwards so I land rather inelegantly on the chair.

  “Not yet. Soon, but not yet. I’m making myself wait, Elizabeth,” he whispers in my ear, reaching for the strap around my waist. “You’ve no idea how hard it’s been not to manhandle you already.”

  He stands and glances back at the buckle, nodding to himself before moving to the other chair and strapping himself in. I still stare at him with blushed cheeks and lust filled eyes, my breathing heavy as the air of sexual tension engulfs the cabin space around us. He simply looks across at me with his calcul
ated mask on and presses the fingers of his clasped hands to his lips.

  Eventually his look moves towards my mouth and he licks his lips. I immediately see the change of colour in his eyes. They’re darker and far more intense, but that face remains oh so calm and expressionless. How can he think something and yet show so little?

  Tara sweeps in and completely ruins our moment, so of course I drop my gaze to the floor.

  “Are you ready, sir?” she asks in a breathy voice, still looking so very beautiful with her long legs and her fuck me eyes.

  “Just a minute, Tara,” he replies, not an inch of his body moving. “Elizabeth,” he growls. I lift my head slowly to see the same fire in his eyes. Nothing has changed since she entered the cabin and thankfully his face is still completely focused on me. “Are you ready?”

  I gaze deeply into his eyes and see only passion and desire for me, rather bizarrely. His question is acutely loaded. I know he is asking me to trust him and allow myself to gain from his strength and confidence. I need to grow a pair or something. I will not let the bitch intimidate me.

  “Yes, I am,” I say, looking toward her and frowning slightly, my eyes travelling to her face to study her reaction to my stare. Remarkably, she withers away slightly and her eyes look toward the floor. I return my gaze to Alex and smile as he nods at me and winks.

  “Then we’re ready, Tara. Please tell Phillip to get going. Get us some champagne when we’re up,” he states, never removing his eyes from mine.

  “Yes, sir,” she replies, leaving the cabin with a very definite huff in her voice.

  “You, Elizabeth. I’m only interested in you. You are the one who has my attention and all of it for once in my life,” he says with an amused lift of his brow, as if he’s just realised this himself. “If only you knew how rare that was.”

  “Okay,” I reply rather inarticulately, a little overwhelmed by his statement and still somewhat distracted by my own libido.

  “Why would you feel nervous around her? She’s nothing compared to you,” he questions as he tilts his head to the side and looks genuinely puzzled.

  “Because she’s beautiful, and because you’ve slept with her,” I respond instantly, and Lord knows where I found the balls to say that. “It’s intimidating.”

  He stares at me for a moment with no change to his expression whatsoever. I’m not sure if I’m expecting him to be remorseful or apologetic for his actions, but I am pretty sure I won’t be getting either response.

  “I can assure you I haven’t slept with her. Fucked her, yes. Most of the world probably has, but that doesn’t mean she’s of any interest to me,” he states casually. “And there is nothing beautiful about her at all.”

  How on earth can he be so indifferent about this? I close my gaping mouth at his harsh words and fold my arms. Christ, is the man completely devoid of emotion?

  “You don’t need to be so crude about it. She is still actually on the plane,” I say nervously, looking around for her. He doesn’t flinch, just keeps staring at me.

  “I’m sure she knows full well what I think of her. If she doesn’t then more fool her. I’m more interested in you, and if me telling you the truth helps you to understand how important you are then I’m happy to voice my opinion.” His hand reaches out to mine and he brushes his fingers over it gently. “You should perhaps learn to toughen up to my attitude, Miss Scott.”

  I gaze up at him. “You should perhaps learn to be a little more compassionate, Mr. White. I doubt Tara likes your opinion of her and I’m not sure I do either,” I reply quietly.

  “Well then she shouldn’t have opened her legs so readily, should she?” he responds as he draws his hand away from me and frowns a little. “And I never implied I was faultless, Elizabeth - far from it in fact.”

  My thoughts instantly fly to visions of our first night together as I move my eyes away from his gaze and look out of the window. I was that easy. Our first night in each other’s company and I opened my legs in various different ways for him. Okay, it was the first time I ever did that sort of thing, but fundamentally I was no different than Tara. Maybe she thought she was important to him, too. Perhaps he said the same sexy words of endearment to her in their moments of passion.

  I scrunch up my nose in irritation and look back across at him.

  “It appears you have no respect for women who have sex with you on a first date,” I say, hoping to God he finds an answer that will make me feel a little better somehow. He relaxes back into his seat, crosses one leg over the other and smirks at me. It’s that laughing thing he does and my annoyance compounds further.

  “I have the utmost respect for any woman who has sex with me on a first date, Elizabeth. But I particularly admire the date that has the courage to stay the night in my bed after I’ve told them some of the rather unspeakable requirements of my life - the same bed that no other woman has ever been in, as you well know,” he replies with another twitch of his delicious lips. “You see, first dates are not something I’m very familiar with and because of that, such a thing commands a great deal of my respect. I’m afraid simply fucking someone is, by its own definition, just that - simple - and nothing that is simple or effortless requires any of my respect at all.”

  Oh, well that told me. My smirk knows no bounds at his acknowledgement of my importance. Maybe I do need to toughen up a bit. I still don’t like his reaction to Tara, but I suppose he’s right in a roundabout sort of way. Maybe that’s the way all men think but most just never openly admit it. My eyes narrow at the now devilish smile that’s currently being thrown my way as he runs his damn tongue over his lips and waits for my reply. No, I’m pretty sure this man is a law unto himself.

  The plane takes off without incident and Alex is walking around discussing something with someone on phone. I sip at the champagne that the rather pissed off Tara served, and relish in thoughts of Italy. The soft clouds rolling past the window seem endless and it reminds me of Belle and I cloud gazing when we were young, lying on our backs in the fields behind our house and making shapes out of the white fluffy billows of cotton wool floating around the sky. I grin at my own dreamy thoughts and relax back into the luxurious chair, still not quite believing I’m here.

  “What are you smiling at? I love that smile. It comforts me.” He looks to the floor and for a second, I think I see shyness cross his face, and then it’s gone.

  “Mr. White, are you looking at the floor?” I tease. I can’t help it. It just seems so strange to see his domineering presence looking very slightly humble, if only for a second.

  “Never, Miss Scott,” he replies, smiling broadly as he turns toward a cabinet and pulls out a large green bag. He walks back towards the table and presses a small button on the side of it while looking at his phone. The table starts to turn over and I watch as it slowly reveals a chessboard.

  “I thought we’d play a game,” he says, smirking at me and lining up the pieces on the board, phone finally dismissed into his pocket.

  “You don’t know if I can play or not,” I reply casually. Oh thank you, Daddy.

  “I think you’re trying to deceive me, Miss Scott. Your stance changed considerably when you approached the board at home. I think you’re quite the player really. Regardless, we shall soon find out,” he muses. “Besides, I’m changing the rules a little if you’re open to suggestion?”

  “Really, how?” I lift my brows at him.

  “Well, when you gain advantage, you get whatever you want from me and when I gain advantage, the same applies for you,” he remarks, still lining up the board and then pouring us more champagne. “Or we could just play safe. It’s up to you.” He smirks again as he sits down.

  I can’t help looking at his masculine jaw and mouth as he licks his rather erotic lips and taps his fingers rhythmically. It’s like a sexual tempo being stirred up in my body as he somehow demands that I listen to his repeated cadence. My eyes draw to his hand as my heart rate increases again.

  “Do you w
ant to play safe, Alex?” I reply as sexily as I can muster because this I might have a chance of winning.

  “Now I know you’re teasing me, naughty girl. Do you like to attack or defend?” he asks as he stops his fingers abruptly. I shake my head at my mind fog and try to concentrate on the black and white squares. I’m damned sure he’ll try to manipulate this situation to suit himself in some way.

  Be prepared, Beth. Control yourself, for God’s sake.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve only played a little.” I smile breezily.

  “Well, I’ll let you go first then, but I don’t believe you for a moment. No one has such confidence around a board unless they can actually play. I expect a punishment will be in order when you’ve shown me your dishonesty.” Excuse me? What the hell was that statement about?

  We play for at least fifteen minutes before I make a deliberate mistake. I can’t let him see my full game or he will probably beat me. I haven’t played for years but it seems to be coming back to me very quickly. Worryingly, though, he does seem rather good. Why did I think otherwise?

  “Really, Elizabeth, if you wanted to take your top off, you should have just asked,” he says, deadpan.

  “What?” I reply in confusion as my eyes shoot to his.

  “You’ve just given me advantage, which I know you’re well aware of, so off with the top. That’s what I want for gaining my first lead.” He inclines his head as if challenging me. Bastard.

  “I’m not doing that in here. Anyone could walk in,” I yelp, incredulously.

  “You agreed to the change of rules didn’t you? So off it comes. I want to see your beautiful tits while I play. You never know, the distraction might prove useful for you,” he says with another one of those rather irritating, in the moment smirks.

 

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