“They’re calling for us to board,” he said as she approached. In the thirty-six hours they’d been apart, he’d kidded himself that he’d overreacted to her on Wednesday night. Wrong.
“You switched me to first class!” Her blue eyes flashed with indignation. “I’ve been down at the ticket counter trying to change back to coach, but they’d already sold my original seat.”
She smelled absolutely wonderful. “Jenny didn’t tell you she rebooked?”
“No, she did not, and for good reason. She knows I’d have a fit.”
He had to work hard not to laugh. Leave it to Emma to complain about an upgrade. “What’s wrong with first class?”
“Everything! It’s elitist, and overpriced, and a waste of resources because fewer people fit in that space.”
Jenny had clearly wimped out and left him to deal with Emma’s objections. So he would. Going first class was in his blood, and besides, booking at the last minute meant he wouldn’t have been able to sit with her in coach. Instead he would have been squashed into a middle seat in the tail section. Not his idea of fun, and inefficient, to boot. He needed to be right beside her when they deplaned. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until he’d made sure Theo Henderson wouldn’t do something stupid. Buying two new tickets had seemed like the way to go. With Wallace Enterprises footing the bill, Jenny had agreed, although she’d mentioned Emma might not be happy about it.
Emma was definitely not happy. She stood in front of him throwing off sparks of irritation. But unless she wanted to give up on the Chicago part of her tour, she was stuck with him in first class.
“I’m sorry you’re upset about the seats,” he said. “But they can’t be changed at this point.”
“I suppose not. Most people would be grateful, wouldn’t they?”
“I would say so.”
“It just goes against my principles.”
“Sorry. At least we’re taking public transportation.”
She stared at him. “Don’t tell me you considered taking the Wallace corporate jet?”
“Jenny said you’d never go for it.”
“That’s a colossal understatement.” She shook her head in obvious dismay. “The corporate jet. So you’re actually slumming by taking this flight.”
“Well, I wouldn’t quite put it that way.”
She heaved the sigh of someone whose burdens were too much to bear. “I suppose I’ll have to consider this research. Shall we go?”
He swept a hand toward the gate. “After you.”
She was all smiles for the woman taking tickets, but she remained cool toward Aidan as they made their way down the jet way to the plane. Because they hadn’t boarded with the rest of first class, coach passengers were lined up ahead of them waiting to get on.
That meant standing together in the jet way as an awkward silence developed between them. Aidan decided to break it before it became a solid block of ill will. “You’ll only have to endure this for one leg of your tour,” he said. “When you leave Chicago on Sunday, you’ll be in the seat Jenny reserved in the first place.”
She glanced at him. “I didn’t mean to be a brat about it, but I don’t like having someone manipulate my life without telling me. Jenny should have, but she didn’t. I was wrong to take it out on you. I apologize.”
“Apology accepted. And I confess that if I can’t take the corporate jet, I’m all about first class. I don’t fit into the coach seats very well.”
“I guess you wouldn’t. And considering how bogus the whole trip is for you, I can’t expect you to make it crammed into coach, which would only add insult to injury.”
“Who said it was bogus?” As the line began moving again, he and Emma moved with it.
Looking over her shoulder at him, she rolled her eyes. “Come on, Aidan. Jenny told me he’s nineteen. He read one of my books and now he’s enjoying a vicarious thrill by sending me emails pretending that he has special powers.”
His senses sharpened. “Did you mean to say emails, as in more than one?”
“He’s sent a couple more, both early this morning. Now that I know he’s a kid, they don’t worry me. I think your father and my publisher are making way too much of this, and now they’ve included you in the insanity.” She walked forward toward the doorway of the plane.
“You didn’t delete the emails, did you?”
“I thought about it, but no, I haven’t.” She walked onto the plane.
Thank God for small favors. He followed her. “Window or aisle?”
“Window. I love looking out.”
That worked nicely for him. Even in first class, his legs felt cramped if he ended up by the window, so he always chose the aisle.
The flight attendant took Emma’s coat and hung it up. For a moment Aidan thought Emma would insist on hanging up her own coat, but then she relinquished it, thanked the attendant, and took her seat. She tucked her computer case under the seat in front of her and sat back.
Aidan’s finely tuned hearing picked up a little sigh of pleasure and he turned away so she wouldn’t hear him chuckle. She might disapprove of first class seats on principle, but her body loved being cushioned in that comfy leather.
Then he groaned inwardly as his hormone-soaked brain focused on that sensuous little body of hers nestled in the seat that would be next to his. Hours ago he’d convinced himself he could do this without danger of sprouting fur, and yet the backs of his hands were already starting to prickle.
He handed off his topcoat and tucked his own computer case under the seat in front of them. “Mind if I take a look at those two emails?”
“Be my guest.” She called them up and handed her phone over as the flight attendant came by asking about coffee.
He smiled at the attendant and shook his head before going back to the screen and Theo’s messages.
“Regular with just a tiny bit of cream, please,” Emma said.
He glanced up. She’d been taking two creams for the past three months. “Why only a tiny bit?”
“Because cream is fattening and I’m cutting back.”
“You’re dieting?”
“I always do after turning in a book. I tend to eat more when I’m on deadline, so this is how I balance it out.” She fastened her seat belt.
He hadn’t meant to watch her do that, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from observing how the belt rode low and tight over her hips, exactly as the flight attendant would instruct them to fasten it during takeoff.
Emma had terrific hips, in his estimation. She had terrific everything. He’d hate to see even an ounce disappear from that curvy figure. Then he heard himself say, against all good judgment, “But you’re perfect.”
Her eyes rounded. “Excuse me?”
“I…meant that you’re perfectly okay now. I don’t get the dieting thing.”
“Thank you.” She took a breath. “You confuse the hell out of me, Aidan.”
“I’m not surprised. I confuse myself sometimes.”
“The other night I thought you were interested in me, but then I decided you weren’t. Now you seem interested again. I’m getting whiplash.”
Aidan grabbed the first lifeline he could think of. “You said you had a boyfriend.”
“So that’s why you didn’t come up the other night?”
When he looked into those blue eyes of hers, he had a hard time lying. “No, not really.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He could tell her some of the truth, at least. “The fact is, I tend to have a one-track mind, and I was focused on tracing that email. I knew if I came up to your loft, I’d lose focus.”
“You’re quite the dedicated guy, aren’t you?”
“Guess so.”
“I admire that, Aidan.” She looked past him toward the aisle. “Thank God. My coffee’s here.”
“Your first cup?” He helped the flight attendant pass the steaming cup over to her.
“’Fraid so. I was a little rushed this mor
ning.”
He started to say that explained a lot about her quick temper, but stopped himself.
“Ah, manna from heaven.” She closed her eyes and breathed in the vapors before taking a long, slow sip. “I think I’ll live, now.”
He couldn’t resist. “In coach they won’t get coffee until we reach altitude and level off.”
“Smartass.” She smiled, though. “I understand the appeal of sitting up here. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll get used to it. You know, get spoiled.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
She studied him. “I think so. The money’s coming in now, but I’m a self-employed writer. There’s no guarantee the money will always be there. At this point I haven’t made enough to keep me in first class seats for the rest of my life.”
He stated what she had to be thinking. “Whereas I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”
“Pretty much.”
He nodded. “I’ll own that. I probably am spoiled.” He thought about the house where he had grown up, a ten-bedroom mansion filled with original art. Maids, cooks, chauffeurs. His father was an investment genius and the family had weathered a couple of recessions without suffering.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’ve noticed that the people you employ are treated with respect and consideration. I’ve heard that the Wallace family supports a whole raft of charities. I’m not dissing your situation. But it’s different from mine.”
She had no idea how different.
“My dad abandoned my mom when I was a baby, and she managed to raise me and keep a roof over our heads, but it was never easy.”
“I met your mom at the signing. She seems like an intelligent woman.”
Emma’s eyes lit up. “She is. She mentioned that she’d stopped to say hello. Listen, about Doug, my boyfriend, I—”
The plane’s engines revved, cutting off the rest of what she’d been about to say. Knowing he’d have to shut down her phone any second, Aidan quickly glanced over Theo’s two emails.
Hear you’re coming to Chi-town, sweet thing. Looking forward to making that special connection, if you know what I mean. I’m still…
Ready Fur U
Aidan scrolled to the next one.
Hey, there! Weres do it on all fours! Think about it. I’m always…
Ready Fur U
Aidan ground some enamel off his back molars. Sure Theo was just a kid, but even a kid could get himself and his fellow Weres into deep trouble. That was Aidan’s intellectual evaluation.
But the emails affected him at a deeper level. Emma was not his mate, would never be his mate. And yet any sexual interest from another male aroused every possessive instinct he had. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing for the short term.
Theo might not cower before someone sent as Emma’s bodyguard. But he would cringe in fear if Aidan presented himself as Emma’s mate, a Were ready to defend her to the death. Aidan wasn’t certain he could play that role and then abandon it again on Sunday. Doing so could end the problem with Theo, though. He’d have to think about it.
“Sir,” the flight attendant said, “I’ll have to ask you to turn off your phone.”
“Right.” He quickly put his cell number in a vacant speed dial position. Then he powered down the phone and handed it back to Emma as the attendant went through the seat belt and flotation device spiel. “You now have me in your emergency contacts.”
“Oh.” She looked annoyed. “I guess that’s okay.”
“You can change it on Sunday afternoon.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
He settled back in his seat and tried to imagine himself running through the forest. Flying made him uneasy, which was another reason for choosing first class. Wolves weren’t meant to be suspended thirty thousand feet in the air. Flying made his ears hurt and dried out his sinuses. When he flew alone he drowned out the engine noise by wearing top-grade earphones tuned to a medley of forest sounds, but that wouldn’t be happening today.
As they taxied down the runway, he gripped the armrests and swallowed. Visualization wasn’t working for him this morning.
Emma must have noticed, because she glanced at him with undisguised curiosity. “Aidan, are you afraid of flying?”
“No.”
“You are so! It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people are spooked by the idea of being up in the air with no visible means of support.”
“Thanks for that description.” Aidan closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Each time he did this he promised himself he’d try hypnosis next time. But he never remembered until it was too late and he was headed for the airport.
“I’ve found the best remedy is distraction,” Emma said. “So let’s talk about something unrelated to flying. How about the weather?”
Aidan groaned. “Ice on the wings. I’d forgotten about that. We could end up with ice on the wings and we’d go down like a rock.”
“Okay, then politics. The world situation.”
“Terrorists. Somebody could be on the plane with a bomb, and we’d never know. On a train or a bus you have a fighting chance, but up in the air…”
“How about my love life? We could talk about that.”
Aidan opened his eyes and turned his head to stare at her. “You’re going to tell me about your love life?”
“See? You’re already distracted.”
“Go on.” It did help to focus on her. He couldn’t very well take her with him on every future flight, but for now, she was a great solution. “What about your love life?”
“You know that boyfriend I told you about?”
“Yes.” He knew way more about Dougie-boy than she could imagine.
“We’re taking a break from each other.”
Ah. It shouldn’t matter to him at all, but a surge of excitement told him it mattered, all right. “Since when?”
“Yesterday.”
“Emma, if this has anything to do with me, that’s not good, because I—”
“It does and it doesn’t. It does because I had such a great time on Wednesday night that I realized Doug and I might not be right for each other. So I thank you for that. We needed to take a break.”
“Look, if you’re thinking we might hook up, there are several reasons why that wouldn’t be a good idea.” All he had to do was figure out which ones he could tell her without making her suspicious about his family.
She laughed. “You are so right about that. Several I can think of.”
“What do you mean?” He’d thought he’d have all the reasons on his side.
“Well, I’ll be the first to admit that my next lover will be physically more like you and less like Doug.”
“That’s flattering.” He sincerely doubted her next lover would be physically anything like him.
“I can’t deny that I’m very attracted to you physically. But I’m looking for someone who recycles the Sunday Times.”
“I do that.” Why he felt the need to mention it was beyond him. Besides, he only left instructions for his maid to recycle it, which might not count for as much in her book.
“I’m glad you do. Recycling is a small thing, though. I need someone who rides the subway and flies coach, someone who has to think twice before he buys a ticket to a Broadway play and has to save for months in order to afford a tropical vacation. The truth is, Aidan, gorgeous though you are, you’re too rich for my blood.”
Aidan tried to remember if any woman had said that to him in his life. Nope. None had. He had the impression that most women saw his money as an aphrodisiac. They liked the luxuries it could provide—exotic getaways, fine food, sensuous spa treatments. He wouldn’t date a woman who only cared about money, but enjoying the thrills money could buy wasn’t a crime. Except to Emma, apparently.
“I do believe I’ve shocked you, Aidan.”
“Could be.”
“Distracted you pretty well, too, didn’t I? Look out the window. We’re airborne.”
He leaned past he
r to check that out, and sure enough, they’d lifted above the layer of winter clouds suspended over New York City. Leaning closer to her wasn’t such a good idea, though. Her scent filled his nostrils and he remembered the way her lips had felt pressed against his on Wednesday night.
Turning slightly, he gazed into her eyes as a wave of lust moved through him. “Too rich for your blood, huh?”
Her breath caught and her lips parted slightly. “Yes.”
“And all along I thought you were too rich for mine.” With a supreme effort, he leaned back in his seat and stared straight ahead while he fought against the arousal that was making the backs of his hands prickle and his tailbone ache. Shifting at thirty thousand feet would not be a good thing.
Chapter Six
Emma wasn’t always so quick on her mental feet, but she’d executed a nice two-step that time. She’d managed to tell Aidan the exact truth and restore her sense of dignity in one fell swoop. Nice work if she did say so.
She still didn’t know where he stood. Those mixed signals continued to be mixed. No matter. He knew where she stood, and that was a safe and sane distance away from him.
Discovering he was afraid of flying had given her another boost of confidence. Up to now she’d thought he was a perfect specimen with no faults to speak of. A fear of flying didn’t make him any less manly or yummy, but it did make him human.
Unsnapping her lap belt, she leaned over and pulled her computer case out from under the seat in front of her. Now would be a good time to flip open her laptop and present a picture of the working writer. She doubted she’d get much done sitting next to Aidan’s hunky self, but he wouldn’t know if she was working or composing a letter.
Best of all, he wouldn’t be inclined to start a conversation while she was typing. She was happy with the current balance of power, and another discussion might upset it. He affected her more than she wanted him to know, but the good news was that it cut both ways.
After booting up her computer, she had to come up with something to type and decided she might as well brainstorm ideas for her next book. She’d never considered whether werewolves would mind flying, but logically they wouldn’t be very well suited to it. So far as she knew, no furry creature enjoyed the change in air pressure or the noise and smell of jet fuel.
Werewolf in Manhattan (Wild About You Book 1) Page 6