A Jewel In Time; A Sultry Sisters Anthology

by Barbara Devlin

  His excitement was contagious and overrode her grief about her grandmother and her disappointment with Travis. She grabbed for the document.

  Laughing, he pulled it away.

  She giggled and stretched to reach it. “C’mon, let me see. Is it an aisle?”

  He plopped into the seat on her right and transferred the pass to his hand farthest from her. “Oh, it’s better than an aisle.”

  “Better than an aisle? Really?” She lurched over him, determined to snatch it, but the brooch chain caught the armrest, and she face planted in his lap.

  He choked.

  She gasped. Completely embarrassed, she fought to free herself. “I’m so sorry,” she said into his crotch.

  He shifted. “Sit still, you’re hooked.”

  She relaxed, then stiffened. Oh, hell. He had a hard-on. “You, um, I, um. Hurry!”

  “Stay still, I’ve almost got it.” His arm was wrapped around her and his fingers fiddled with the chain.

  Unable to stay calm in such close proximity to his bulging private parts, she squirmed. That time she was able to jump loose. “I’m going to the ladies room.”

  She ran from him before he had a chance to respond. In the safety of the bathroom, she wet a paper towel and held it to the back of her neck. What had just happened? She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but she needed to think about it.

  Breathing heavily, she paced the dingy tile and retraced the steps that found her face in Emerson’s lap. He’d been flirty and she’d played along, then the necklace got caught. She held the brooch in her hand so it faced her. “What are you about?”

  Suddenly it all made sense. The family treasure indicated her perfect mate, so logically it also kept her from an imperfect mate. She was meant for Travis. Already, the brooch’s powers were at work. Her landing in Emerson’s lap was punishment for their flirtations. Plus, the flight to LA wasn’t cancelled, even though just about every other flight had been grounded. Obviously, the jewelry intended to reunite her with Travis.

  Satisfied with her conclusion, Olivia squeezed the stone before she fixed her make-up by wiping off most of it. She would completely wash her face and re-apply just before arriving in Maui to look her best for her boyfriend. Or should she say her future husband?

  In hindsight, that’s probably why Travis had been so upset earlier in the week. Many of her friends suspected he had planned the vacation to pop the question. A pang of guilt ran through her. He may have had an elaborate proposal all set, perhaps while swimming with the dolphins, hiking up the side of a volcano, or maybe even on a helicopter tour, yet she had focused only on what would have been easiest for her—for him to come to New York.

  An announcement over the loud speaker interrupted her reflection, “Flight 218 to Los Angeles is now boarding First Class passengers only.

  An awkward scenario of apologies mixed with averted eye contact preceded Olivia and Emerson boarding the plane.

  * * *

  “I can’t thank you enough for getting me a First Class seat.” Olivia dropped into the plush chair. “This is so fabulous.”

  Emerson nodded. Olivia smothered her natural inclination to erase the tension between her and Emerson, given her recent awareness that the brooch had punished her playful interactions with him once.

  The stewardess bounced down the aisle, stopping next to them. “What can I get you two to drink?”

  Emerson politely gestured to Olivia.

  “A glass of wine please. White.” She really wanted to ask for the whole bottle, not because she was a heavy drinker, but because she was so embarrassed and just wanted to forget the unpleasant event in the terminal.

  “I’ll have a Scotch. And make it a double.” She smirked. Apparently he had the same desire.

  “Would you two like the nuts?”

  “Yes.” They said in unison. Olivia realized she was famished. She had barely touched the room service breakfast her mother had ordered them and then had gone straight from the funeral to the airport. As if grateful for the acknowledgment, her stomach growled.

  Moments later, warm canisters of nuts were set in front of them, along with their drinks. Olivia devoured the nuts and took a generous sip of her wine.

  Emerson’s eyebrows lifted. “Hungry?”

  “I’m starving. I really haven’t eaten today.” Olivia eyed her empty cup and resisted the urge to lick the salt out of it.

  Emerson placed his nuts on her tray.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t. You’ve been too kind already.” She picked them up and attempted to return them to him. Secretly she hoped he wouldn’t let her. She really wanted those nuts.

  He rested his hand atop hers, firm, but gentle. “I insist. Eat.”

  He was so nice. The proper thing was to refuse, but she sensed he genuinely wanted her to enjoy herself, and she was hungry enough to gnaw the in-flight magazine if she didn’t get some more food soon, so she acquiesced.

  “Thank you.” She popped a single almond into her mouth and forced herself to eat his nuts slowly between dainty sips of wine.

  He shared none of her restraint and downed his Scotch in a single gulp. He swished the ice around in the glass a moment, then rose and walked up the aisle. She had the window seat, so she peered out the round hole into the blizzard outside and watched as the ground crew loaded the last of the luggage. Olivia sighed, sad to say goodbye to Nana, but happy to escape the coldness of New York.

  “I got these for you. They should fill you up until they serve us dinner.” Emerson placed a bowl of nuts and another glass of wine on Olivia’s tray. The man had read her mind.

  She smiled widely, willingly accepting them. “Oh, thank you!”

  No ring on his left hand. Was a man that considerate really still on the market? She might have concluded he was gay, except his generous hard-on betrayed him in their earlier entanglement. Maybe he was a widow or a playboy. An International playboy. Maybe the brooch had saved her from a fate worse than Travis.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  She choked then coughed. “Um, it’s snowy out there.”

  His face scrunched in a way that told her he hadn’t believed that’s what she was thinking about, but he hadn’t called her on it. “Yes, I hope we take off soon, or we won’t. I was actually surprised this flight wasn’t cancelled.”

  “Well, it’s a sign we are meant to get to Los Angeles.” And Olivia to Travis.

  “Yes. That it is.” He took a gentleman’s sip of his second Scotch. “And what do you do in Hollywood?”

  “I’m in public relations.” That was her standard, non-specific answer. Over the years, revealing her relationship with some of the most well known names in the industry led to discussions she preferred to avoid. “And you?”

  “I run a family business.” Hmm, and she had thought her answer vague.

  “Anything interesting?” she asked, curious how much detail she could get him to reveal.

  “Running a business is always interesting. Import/export.” Apparently not much.

  She knew nothing of international business since she spent her reading time consuming gossip magazines filled with half-truths and outright lies about her clients, so she thought it wise not to make a fool out of herself, any more than she already had, asking silly questions, besides, if he wanted her to know, he’d tell her. Maybe she didn’t want to know. “Nice.”

  The plane lurched as it pushed from the gate. They grabbed their drinks.

  Once in the air, Emerson pulled out his laptop and worked on spreadsheets. She tried to read from the screen, but the First Class seats were spread far enough apart that it was impossible. Although she noticed there was a lot more red than black in the columns.

  Eyelids heavy from the weight of the day’s events, Olivia decided to sleep. She wondered if she’d have the same dream she’d had every night since putting on the brooch.

  She closed her eyes and recalled it.

  Wind howled. Rain poured in sheets, so hard it power wash
ed the decks.

  Waves crashed, hurling the bow up and down in the icy water. The old boards creaked but held against the forces of nature.

  All but a few of the frigate’s canvases were tied to the yardarm.

  The helm stood empty. No one manned the ratlines. No sailors were present.

  The rig was of late 18th century design, if she remembered her history correctly.

  The name on the bow read Indo-something. The wild waves and whipping rain made it impossible to see the full name.

  The scent of brine permeated the air.

  The feeling was eerie and ancient.

  That was it. No man. It made no sense to her. Hadn’t her grandmother said that Olivia would see her true love? An old boat in a storm was definitely not her true love. She liked sailing. If it was a yacht, she enjoyed herself even more, but a wooden old, really old, warship? No.

  She twirled the pin in her hand. Perhaps the thing was confused. It was, after all, incredibly old, itself.

  But hadn’t it come to her rescue and saved her from potential International playboy Emerson by face planting her embarrassingly in his crotch? She narrowed her eyes. And hadn’t it made sure their flight took off so she could join Travis in Hawaii? She rubbed the big blue stone with her thumb. She had a layover in LA. When they landed, she’d call her mom and get more information about how the ancient charm really worked.

  “Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. Due to bad weather conditions, we are diverting to Logan International Airport in Boston. We apologize for this inconvenience. Further details on the continuation of your flight to Los Angeles International Airport will be given upon arrival at the terminal.”

  Chapter 3

  Exiting the airport, a blast of wind blew his jacket open. The icy, wet weather provided the cold shower Emerson needed after sitting next to Olivia for the past hour. The scent of her—slightly flowery, slightly like chocolate chip cookies—had driven him crazy.

  He zipped his anorak. The taxi line snaked down the sidewalk. Bracing himself against the wind, he trekked along side it. While others complained of the freezing temperature, Emerson welcomed the chilled wind. Each gust cooled the fire within him and erased the visions he’d entertained of joining the Mile High Club with the beautiful sad smile blonde.

  What had the American lass done to him? His willy hadn’t been so unpredictably active since his teens. He couldn’t believe it had grown right there in his pants, in the terminal, when Olivia landed in his lap. Without doubt, she had noticed, because she had gotten away from him as quickly as possible, but she had seemed to relax after three glasses of wine. He smirked. Most women relaxed around any man after three glasses of wine.

  He shook his head, tossing snow in all directions. He had no time for flesh pursuits now. He had a business to save. That was the whole purpose of his trip to the States. Unfortunately, for the second time on his salvage mission, he was delayed. And he definitely would not make it back to London for Christmas. His mum would be disappointed, but she’d understand.

  A gust of wind mixed with icy snow slapped him in the face as he came upon the end of the queue and joined it. He rubbed his cheek against his jacket to remove the cold mixture. He wondered where he would spend Christmas. Alone in a hotel room again? He recalled last year, when he was in China and had ordered English Breakfast tea from room service, even though he despised it, because his family had always celebrated Afternoon Tea on holidays. A twinge of sadness ran through him. It would be unfortunate to spend another holiday alone. Uncomfortable with too much emotion, he pushed the thoughts from his mind and forced himself back into the present.

  As the line inched forward, Emerson eyed the door leading to the baggage claim area. Olivia had stopped to use the restroom, after getting off the plane, and he hadn’t seen her since. Was he actually missing her? No, that was absurd. He watched out for her because she mourned her grandmother, that’s all.

  A strong gust of wind knocked over his roller bag, and he bent to retrieve it. As he straightened, Olivia exited the airport.

  “Olivia.” He waved to her. He realized the gesture was one of familiarity, and they’d just met. However, how would he define familiarity, given few other women had been that close to his willy recently.

  She signaled and started toward him. She moved slow, taking careful steps. She had almost reached him when she slid. She flapped her arms, grasping at the air for balance. He reached out to intercept her, before she landed on the ground. She hugged him firmly and even when he righted her she held on with one hand.

  “Sorry!” She pointed to the sexy sandals. “These are not winter shoes.”

  “No.” He laughed, but he’d wager they’d look great perched on his shoulders. “Why don’t you put on something else?

  “I can’t.” She huffed. “They lost my luggage.”

  “Really?” The woman had a seriously bad week, yet she managed to stay calm. He admired her spirit.

  “Really.” She shrugged. “I travel a lot. It’s happened before. It usually shows up.”

  “That’s terrible.” He considered what he had in his suitcase. Nothing suitable for her five-foot something frame.

  “I know. I wish I’d changed in New York before flying.” She shivered. “I’m freezing.”

  He scanned her. Red painted toenails peeked from her open-toed heels, her bare legs were already covered with goose bumps, and a giant white goose down jacket, with a fuzzy hood, almost completely covered her dress. “At least you have a warm jacket.”

  “Yes, I love this crazy thing.” She flipped the hood up, framing her face with faux fur. She looked like an angel. The lower half of his body came alive again.

  He turned from her and glanced at the oncoming cars. He had to stop allowing her to distract him with her beauty. What was he, a schoolboy again? “Did you find a hotel?”

  “Yes, Hyatt.” She dug in her bag but hadn’t removed anything.

  “Me too. I think they may be the only hotel with any rooms left.” He steered her in front of him in line. “Let’s share a cab.”

  “Great.” She smiled. “I booked on my phone the first place I could find while I was talking to the luggage people.” Their cab pulled to the curb.

  “Well, I’m glad you got a room.” He ushered Olivia into the back of the car and then gave his suitcase to the cab driver and shared their destination. Once in the vehicle, Emerson removed his coat and draped it over her legs. The gesture was as much for her warmth as it was to cover temptation for him.

  “Thank you.” She moved closer to him on the seat, or it seemed like she had, he wasn’t sure. “You really are a gentleman.”

  Her compliment warmed him, though if she knew what went on in his head with regards to her, she’d say otherwise. He currently waged an inner battle between opening the window to cool down and pulling her next to him on the seat to warm her lips with his. The latter idea was winning. “And you are a lady.” What kind of lame response had he just given? And you are a lady. Of course she’s a lady. A lady he wanted to get to know more.

  She smiled at him and then got lost in her phone. What did she do on there?

  The cab inched along for what seemed like an eternity then stopped. In a classic Boston accent, the cabbie announced, “This is as far as I can take you.”

  Emerson gazed out the window through the blizzard. “How far is the hotel from here?”

  “’Bout a block. That way and ‘round the corner. They haven’t plowed this road, so I can’t drive it. And I can’t wait, because dispatch is calling us back to the garage. Shutting down service for the night.”

  Bloody hell! Emerson peered at Olivia.

  She shrugged. “What choice do we have?”

  * * *

  From the warmth of the cab, Olivia’s response had seemed logical—of course they would walk the rest of the way to the hotel. Standing calf-deep in snow, buffeted by icy wind, wearing completely inappropriate clothing from the waist down, she regre
tted her decision.

  She stepped backward, slipped on some ice hidden under the snow, and landed on her butt. “Ouch!”

  Emerson reached for her. “Are you hurt?”

  She took his help and pulled herself upright. “No.”

  “Let’s go. Stay close to me and hold on. I don’t want you falling again.” His tone switched from kind gentleman to serious commander. It sounded like that of an army general determined to get his troupes home safe for Christmas.

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted him in her mind and snuggled against his back. The brooch pin pressed into her chest. She suspected Nana had provided the Good Samaritan. How she missed her.

  They trudged forth at a painfully slow pace. She was grateful for Emerson’s company so she hadn’t had to suffer alone. Though he could have moved much faster had she not been with him, it spoke volumes of his character that he stayed with her.

  The wind cut through her skirt with every gust, freezing her to the very core. Between the icy bursts, the swirling snow falling on them in giant flakes, and her lack of pants, socks or boots, her legs and feet grew painfully numb.

  The snow fell heavier and thicker, and her mind wandered to Travis. She’d texted him in the cab to let him know she had been delayed in Boston, but he hadn’t responded yet.

  Olivia mused how Travis would handle himself in the same situation? Honestly, she hadn’t known because they hadn’t gone through a single tough or uncomfortable life event together—until now. As grandma had entered the hospital for the last days of her life, Travis had flown to Hawaii, leaving Olivia to grieve, alone.

  The truth was Nana would’ve called Travis a fair-weather friend. They played in Cabo, snuck away for weekends in Santa Barbara, San Francisco, or Las Vegas, but whenever she’d had things that weren’t smooth sailing, it seemed he was buried under work, and she had dealt with it, alone. Like the time her dog required surgery after eating a sock. Or the time her car broke down in the desert. Or when her client took off with their limo and Lindsey Lohan and stranded Olivia at Bryan Singer’s party. Travis was always there for the good times and conveniently unavailable for the bad. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?