Inside the bedroom, the requisite bed was more than large enough for two. The space was small and spartan yet richly appointed, as was William’s style. Everything looked very expensive. Across from the bed was the bathroom. I peeked inside and wasn’t surprised to see it was modern in tone like William’s penthouse.
This was majorly impressive. Was I completely lame if my instinct was to snap a couple of pictures and text them to Beckett? He’d be so jealous, but he was the perfect person to share this with. I’d told Beckett I didn’t want to get too wrapped up in the whole billionaire thing, and he had promised to keep me grounded.
I sent a quick text and then took one last awe-filled look around. I’d always flown cramped and uncomfortable in coach, even on overseas trips with Jace for surfing events. Once we’d been bumped off a flight from San Francisco to Sydney and the airline had moved us up to business class on the next flight. We thought we were living large when we reclined our seats all the way and took advantage of the open bar. But I never in a million years imagined taking a shower or sleeping in a bed on a plane. I stepped back into the bedroom and ran my hand over the luxurious duvet. I wondered if I would be joining the Mile High Club on this trip. I’d never done that. A curl of desire spiraled through me. I sincerely hoped so.
When I returned to the main cabin, William introduced me to the captain and co-pilot, who greeted me warmly and told us we were ready to depart. When they retreated, William took me in his arms again. “Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful. Have I told you I don’t deserve you?”
“Yes.” I grinned. “But you can tell me again.”
“I don’t deserve you. And you are very beautiful. I intend to tell you that every day. Plan on holding to me to that.”
Then he kissed me deeply. As always, the feel of his body pressed to mine made me heady with desire, but I was looking for something else too. I was thrilled that he was thinking about us together every day, but what I really wanted right now was to recapture the connection we’d shared last night. I wanted us to talk for hours again, and I wanted him to open up to me even more. I wanted to know him in every way and I wanted him to know all of me too. I loved him and was just waiting for the perfect moment to tell him.
I kissed him back eagerly, but he pulled away. Disappointment rocked through me as, again, I got the feeling his mind was somewhere else.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Now that you’re here, everything is fine. I just want to make sure you feel welcome,” he said, lifting a highball glass of amber liquid from the table. He’d already drank some of it; I could taste the bourbon on his tongue.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “The bar is fully stocked.”
“What, no flight attendant?” I joked. “What kind of plane is this?”
“Well, I like my privacy,” he said with a smile that faded far too quickly, “but I’ll try to make sure the accommodations are more to your liking next time. In the meantime, I guess I’ll have to wait on you, hand and foot.” His words sounded so seductive, and my throat went dry, but I kept things light between us for the moment.
“You’ll do, I suppose.” I smiled, but then saw he wasn’t even really looking at me. Something about William was definitely off. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous about what he’d find on the trip—probably, but he hadn’t said anything more about his brother. Or maybe he just didn’t like flying, or maybe it was something else entirely. It was still so hard for me to read him.
“In all seriousness,” I said when he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to the seats before the table. “This is amazing. I never even imagined planes like this existed, and you have two.”
“I have five, actually. But only two are making this trip.”
Before I could respond to that revelation, William reached over and buckled me in. His arm grazed my breast as he did so, and my nipples tightened in anticipation. He glanced up at me, his eyes more grey than blue. Even distracted, he didn’t miss anything and could tell when I had even the smallest response to his touch.
“Some of my staff and my security team are flying out on the other plane. I don’t like traveling with an entourage, but it’s usually necessary, so I deal with it.” He sighed as he took another sip of the bourbon. “Do you want a drink?” he asked again. Had he forgotten he’d already asked me that?
“No, I’m fine,” I said.
He buckled himself in and pressed a button to signal the cockpit. “We’re ready to go.”
“We’ve been cleared for departure, Mr. Lambourne,” came the reply. A moment later the jet began to taxi.
I hadn’t realized how quickly a smaller plane would move. It seemed to whip down the runway. William reached over and tightly grasped my hand in his. I glanced at him and noted the tight set of his jaw and the strained look on his face.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” I asked as the engines roared even louder.
He nodded, tight-lipped. The plane leapt into the air and for a moment we seemed to hang and glide, and then we made our way up and up. Still, William gripped my hand in an almost painful clench.
“Positive?” I asked. He didn’t respond, and I sighed. He could be incredibly frustrating sometimes—a lot of times. I knew letting me in and telling me what was going on—in his mind, in his heart, in his life—was never going to be easy for him. But he knew how important honesty was to me and to our relationship. “You know I’m here for you, right?” I said. “If you want to talk about anything...”
He glanced at me, then released my hand and reached for his drink.
So I guessed that was a no. Hopefully at some point I would find out more about the phone call that brought us here and about Wyatt’s mysterious reappearance. Wyatt was William’s older brother, or he had been until he and William’s parents were presumably killed in a plane crash when William was only eleven. Not long after we first met, I’d done a little Googling of my own and read about the plane crash. I knew what lengths William went to in his attempt to figure out what happened to his family. The plane wreckage had never been found, but apparently that wasn’t unusual for a plane crash in Alaska. So I knew some, but I wanted the details and to know what William knew.
I had so many questions and William had promised me answers, but it didn’t appear those answers would come now. He was too wound up, too tense. A few minutes later, there was a ping and William rose. I watched him as he made his way carefully to the bar near the big flat-screen and freshened his drink. The flight felt pretty smooth to me, so his careful walk seemed a little overdone. Or maybe that bourbon hadn’t been his first.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asked. “I had the galley stocked before we left. The lobster club sandwich is very good and so are the spring rolls. Or how about sparkling water? I’ve got fresh limes.” He seemed to be rambling a bit now. I cut him off.
“I’m not hungry right now. Thanks.”
I watched as he reached in his pocket, popped a pill in his mouth, and then took a deep swallow of his drink.
I was concerned now, but I tried not to let on how much. “That must be your secret medicine,” I said, my tone teasing. “Now I know what gives you all that stamina and vitality.”
He laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were more guarded than ever. “Come here,” he said, taking a seat on the couch across from me. I unbuckled my seat belt and made my way to him. William took my hand and pulled me down beside him. It was soft and comfortable, and I curled my legs under me. William’s hand continued to stroke mine.
“So you’re not Superman, after all,” I said quietly.
“Far from it. That was Xanax. I hate flying, but it’s necessary. And then, so is the Xanax.”
I nodded, squeezing the fingers that still stroked my hand gently. Of course he hated flying, and I couldn’t believe I just realized it. His whole family died in a plane crash. His mother and father and olde
r brother were gone in an instant. It was amazing that he ever set foot on a plane. He was amazing.
“I know this has to be unbearable for you,” I whispered. Please let him open up to me now, I thought. William, let me in.
“The Xanax makes it bearable, but you, Catherine, you help more than you could possibly know.”
“I want to know,” I said. “Maybe talking to me would help.”
His eyes grew tender, and he pulled me into his lap. I could feel the tension in his tightly coiled body, but he seemed to relax slightly when we touched. His hands stroked up my arms to cup my face and then he leaned forward and kissed me gently. I tasted the bourbon again. It had a smooth, smoky flavor that was earthy and elemental, much like the man himself. The sweet kiss deepened when I responded, and he pulled me closer, pressing me against him so we were one. His lips touched mine tenderly, but there was something else there too—something desperate and dark. And something temptingly erotic. My toes curled as my body came alive with desire. I wanted more. More of his mouth, more of his hands, more of everything.
But instead of giving in to temptation, William pulled back and sighed again. “Thank you for coming, Catherine. I know this wasn’t what we had planned for today. It means the world to me that you would drop everything to be with me. And I know I owe you explanations. I promise they’ll come. Soon.” He raked a hand through his hair, closing his eyes briefly in what looked like pain. “It’s such a fucked-up, sordid story,” he said, eyes still closed as though he was seeing it in his mind. “I hope it doesn’t change anything, but I know it might.” His eyes opened and his gaze met mine again. I could tell that whatever this was, it was weighing heavily on him.
“William, I can’t believe…” I started to utter a protest, as I couldn’t think of anything he might reveal that would change the way I felt about him, but he cut me off.
“It can wait. It will take a while to tell you all of it anyway, and now isn’t the time.” He gently set me back on the couch, and I had to resist the urge to climb back into his warm, welcoming lap.
He stood. “As I said, it’s just the pilots and the two of us, no flight attendant. Are you certain I can’t get you something?” But he wasn’t really looking at me as he spoke. Again, he was distracted and so far away.
“I’m really not hungry,” I said again. “Maybe later.” I accepted I wasn’t going to get the answers I wanted right now, but that didn’t silence all the troubling thoughts that were starting to swirl around in my head. I tried to stay focused on William and his needs, as he was so obviously out of sorts. “Why don’t you go lie down?” I suggested. “Relax.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said and started for the bedroom without even a backward glance. I’d never seen him like this. It was fascinating in one sense, but it concerned me too. I waited for William to look back at me, for him to motion for me to follow him into the bedroom—I was hoping to join the Mile High Club, after all—but he opened the door and shut it without a single acknowledgement or invitation to join him. And that was really not like William.
What exactly waited for us in Napa?
Two
I looked around the empty cabin, feeling uneasy. It was a little creepy to be alone on a plane like this and I almost wished Anthony had flown with us. I didn’t like being by myself in the empty cabin, but there wasn’t much I could do at this point. The flight was just over three hours, and I was apparently going to be entertaining myself for most of it. I thought about pulling out my laptop and doing some work, but the idea didn’t appeal. Instead, I grabbed my tablet and my headphones and scrolled through the movies I’d downloaded. I curled up on the sectional, throw pillows tucked around me, and started a movie. After about fifteen minutes, my stomach rumbled and I decided maybe I would have a snack after all.
Leave it to William to stock his plane with the kind of food I’d expect from one of the Michelin-starred restaurants he favored. I spotted the lobster club sandwich and the spring rolls he’d offered, and there was also a cucumber and shrimp salad, Asian beef with noodles, crème brûlée cheesecake with fresh berries, and toffee-covered macadamia nuts. No airplane peanuts for William. There was even popcorn, but it was wasabi ranch flavor, which I’d never tried, and I didn’t want to sample it now. I decided on a fruit salad and a sparkling water and, with another look at the closed bedroom door, returned to my movie.
I’d unwittingly chosen a romantic comedy—or perhaps the choice was more deliberate on the part of my unconscious than I wanted to admit. The story reminded me of how I’d met William outside Willowgrass on the night I’d been scoping out the restaurant for the Chicago Now shoot. One of these days I was going to have to call Jenny Hill and thank her for breaking her wrist so I’d been able to take the assignment. It had turned out to be a lot more than a good career opportunity. I never would have thought that less than a month later, I’d be in love again—with Stormy Eyes, the handsome man I literally fell for that night—and watching a movie on his private jet.
I still found it hard to believe that a girl like me was with a man like William Lambourne. He had everything. He was gorgeous, with all that thick mahogany hair, those stormy blue-grey eyes, and that ripped body. And he was rich. I still had difficulty fathoming the extent of his wealth. His penthouse was the kind of place someone like me only read about in magazines. I had no idea how many business ventures he was involved in, but WML Capital Management seemed to have more than its share of global interests. Hell, we were going to his vineyard on his private jet, and the watch I was wearing was worth more than my yearly income. And though he could be infuriatingly bossy and demanding and downright thickheaded at times, he was also sweet, caring, sensitive, and passionate about so many things, including food. I’d eaten more with William and in front of William than I had with any other man in my entire life. And I’d loved every bite of it.
But he had his drawbacks too. If I was being romantic, I’d say he was mysterious, but really he was incredibly secretive. He’d already amassed a track record of withholding information from me when he felt like it. Important information about things like his socialite ex-girlfriends or spontaneous overseas trips, and, of course, about his family and the accident that had claimed their lives. The reason for this trip fell under the “Secretive” category, but I was letting it slide because of how obviously upsetting the situation was. Plus, I had reason to believe he was going to change his mysterious ways. It couldn’t just be sex between us. I needed more, and I knew William wanted more too. We’d talked about that.
An hour and a half later my movie ended, and I was bored and annoyed, flipping through an old magazine I’d found. Apparently even flights on private jets weren’t exciting past the first few minutes. The co-pilot had come out earlier to check on me, which was nice. When I’d told him William was sleeping, he hadn’t seemed surprised.
“He usually sleeps,” he’d said. “He hates to fly.”
I’d wondered if the co-pilot knew about the Xanax too. Sometimes it seemed like everyone knew William better than me.
“It should be a smooth flight. We’ll be there on time, if not a few minutes early,” he had said before shutting himself back in the cockpit.
“Great,” I’d said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
In truth, a ball of dread formed in my belly when I thought about returning to California. I didn’t know how I was going to avoid being reminded of Jace and the life we shared there together. Santa Cruz seemed like forever ago, but parts of it were still so raw they might have happened yesterday. And those parts still ripped at old and tender wounds. I pushed all of that out of my mind and focused on the real reason for the trip: William. We were going to be spending our time at his vineyard in Napa and that was far, far away from anything that could hurt me. But it would have been nice if William had been here to distract me from my worries.
I shivered, noting that, just like a commercial airliner, it was too cold. I checked the cupboards and couldn’t find a b
lanket. Now would have been a great time for a flight attendant to appear. But I was on my own, and I wasn’t helpless. The blankets were probably stored in the bedroom. Quietly, I opened the door and tiptoed inside. I stopped in my tracks, staring at William in shock.
He was out. I’d rarely seen him sleep, much less sleep so deeply. I moved closer so I could see his face, which was turned toward me. His strong features were slack, but his brow was drawn with tension. Despite his light snoring, I didn’t think his slumber was peaceful.
He stirred a little when I closed the door, but then he quieted again and his breathing became regular. One arm was thrown up over his head, and a blanket was twisted around his legs. He wore a T-shirt and boxer briefs, the black clothing and the swirl of his dark hair like a stain on the white sheets. His body was perfect, his biceps making the T-shirt’s sleeve bunch, and the lines of his flat abs were visible where his shirt had pulled up slightly. He was a fallen angel asleep in his winged chariot, and I couldn’t resist him.
What the hell? I thought. Why should I resist him? He was my fallen angel. I quickly stripped down to my ivory bra and panties, which were embellished with delicate lace. I felt almost virginal in them, especially with William wearing all that black. I climbed in bed beside him; it was plenty big enough for both of us.
“Catherine,” he murmured, shifting slightly onto his side. I pulled the blanket up to cover us and spooned behind him. Did the man ever get cold? The heat radiating from him immediately warmed me. Neither of us had slept much the night before, and I felt my body relax and melt into his. He sighed and pulled my arm tighter around him. This was home, I thought. Even though I was in-between worlds—somewhere between my first home and my new home—William was my anchor now. I snuggled into him, putting my head behind his shoulder and breathing in his strong, masculine scent. My eyes drifted closed and, wrapped in his warmth, I fell asleep.
A Sip of You (The Epicurean Series) Page 2