by Alexia Praks
"James?" I asked, clutching my backpack in front of me tightly. "What are we doing here?" I flicked my eyes back to the sleek plane before us, all set to take in passengers. I noted a steward in his mid-forties, dressed immaculately in a gray uniform, walking briskly toward us.
"To see your brother," James replied, turning off the car engine.
"Huh?" I couldn't help myself. I was more than a little lost and confused. "Hold up. Why are we in an airport to see my brother?" I knew I sounded stupid.
He chuckled. "Or don't you want to see your brother at all?"
I scowled. "Of course I do," I snapped. "But it would help if you could at least explain why we're at an airport?"
"Ah, Mia." He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. "Your reactions always please me."
I didn't like the sound of that and wondered if he was teasing me again.
"James?" I used that half-begging, half-nagging sweet tone I only ever used with Andy when I wanted things to go my way. It always worked on him, and I wondered if it would work on the almighty Mr. James Maxwell as well. It didn't hurt to try.
He cocked his head to one side. "Your brother is in Las Vegas," he explained.
So that particular tone does work on him, I thought, very pleased indeed. I must remember to use it with him next time I wanted things to go my way.
"Las Vegas?" I was of course very surprised at his answer. Andy had told me he was staying in Los Angeles, not Las Vegas.
James eyed me with interest. He had that know-it-all look on his face. Then it hit me. Las Vegas had lots of casinos, right? Gambling!
I felt a lump in my throat. It must have been in Las Vegas where Andy had lost that two million.
I was about to say something when James clicked the door open. The steward I saw earlier had arrived, waiting expectantly for us, smiling brightly at James.
"Mr. Maxwell, sir," he said, flashing white teeth at the great man. "Everything is ready for you."
James nodded. Then he glanced at me. I understood immediately and got out of the car. The steward came around to me and offered to take my bag. I glanced at James, asking him with my eyes what I should do since I didn't know how to behave in this type of situation.
He nodded for me to give my bag to the steward, which I did. James came around to me and, with his warm hand resting lightly on the small of my back, he led me toward the jet.
I glanced behind me and noted the steward was getting James's traveling luggage as well. It was then I noted another male had appeared, hopping into the car and driving it away. The steward, who was now behind us, heading toward the plane as well, grinned at me. I blushed and returned my attention to the flying vehicle that would take me to see my brother.
Honest to God, it had only been three days ago when I'd been on my very first plane trip, and now I had the luxury of traveling in style on a private jet? What had the world come to? My uncle and aunt would be flabbergasted indeed at the very idea that I could afford a plane ticket at all, let alone get to fly in a private jet, hanging out with a billionaire, too. I just couldn't believe this was happening.
As we ascended the stairs that would lead us into the plane, I wondered if James owned this particular jet or had he merely hired it for us to use. I really wanted to ask him but was ushered by a beautiful redheaded stewardess toward the seating area. I nodded and thanked her as she showed me the way. James looked like he knew where he was going, so I assumed he'd been on this particular jet before.
"Mr. Maxwell, sir," the woman said. "Would you like anything to drink before we take off?"
"The usual," he said, waving her away.
She nodded, her smile bright on her face. Then she turned to me. "And you, miss?"
"Huh?" I blurted out, staring at her, dumbfounded. She had beautiful green eyes. It suited the red hair that was bound into a lovely, clean bun.
James gently grabbed my wrist, retrieving my attention from the lovely stewardess. He made me sit next to him.
To the stewardess, I said, "Just some juice will be fine."
"Of course," she said brightly and then headed away. I couldn't help but watch her lovely long legs and her hips swaying side to side seductively. I wondered if she'd modeled in her younger years, because the way she walked indicated she had. I had no experience in the modelling industry, but I'd seen models doing their walks on TV, and that was exactly how they looked. Although, I had to admit the stewardess didn't look that old, perhaps around her early thirties.
Once the stewardess was out of sight, I looked around the interior of the plane curiously. It was very spacious, with twelve very comfortable, large seats scattered around here and there with tables, both round and rectangle, in between. There were also two large sofas in one corner. The seats looked and felt expensive, made of leather and with soft cushions for comfort.
I couldn't believe I was in a private jet. I wondered who else would be joining us on this short journey from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.
I relaxed back in my seat and noted James pulling out his cell phone. The stewardess appeared, placing a large silver tray of snacks in front of us. There were fresh fruits as well as an assortment of sandwiches, cheeses and crackers, savories, and sweets. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as I stared at the mouthwatering treats.
"My name is Blair," the pretty stewardess said as she now poured me a cup of orange juice. "Please tell me if you need anything else."
I mutely nodded. Once she was done addressing me, I thanked her profusely. The woman then turned her attention to James, who was busy texting on his phone. She poured him a glass of Champaign, her action gentle and elegant. Once she was done, she politely nodded, told us to enjoy our drinks and snacks, and then went away.
I picked up one of the sandwiches and started eating. Gosh, it was delicious, and I felt so blessed. It was heaven. Once I'd finished with that, I took a small savory pie and started eating that, too. I was still chewing enthusiastically and wondered what James was up to with his texting when I turned and saw him watching me. He had that expression on his face that told me he was amused. The look both irritated and enthralled me at the same time.
"What?" I asked, a small savory pie in one hand and my glass of orange juice in the other.
He chuckled. "I always like watching you eat," he said. His eyes twinkled, and I blushed in response.
I took a sip of the orange juice and then said, "Business?" I indicated his phone.
He nodded and didn't explain any further. He returned his attention to his phone and started emailing. I returned to my unexpected, delicious treats.
It was some fifteen minutes later when the steward came and informed us we'd be taking off in ten minutes. At that point, I glanced around, wondering if there were other people who'd be joining us at all.
"Looking for something?" James asked, putting on his seat belt.
The table had been cleared by Blair and was now empty and clean. I still wanted more food and wondered if we'd be served again before we landed.
"Um..." I began. "Where's everyone else?"
James chuckled. "We're it."
"Huh?" I turned to him.
He rested his large hand at the back of my neck and pulled me close. He kissed me lightly on the lips for a brief second. When he drew back, he said, "I fly solo, but now I have you. Don't you like it just the two of us?"
I blushed, not so sure what he was getting at.
"I mean, I know it's a private jet and everything, but aren't there usually other guests, too?"
He shook his head. "It's my personal jet."
"Oh." I nodded and moved to relax in my seat.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 27
James
It had been fifteen minutes since the plane was airborne, and the moment they were allowed to take off their seatbelts, Mia took off in the direction of the sofa. Now James watched her as she sat there crossed-legged and enjoyed another set of treats. This was mostly sweets with an assortment of
cupcakes and cake slices.
It was odd that since he'd met her, his mostly sober world seemed to have change a little, especially when she was around. It was odd, too, that he enjoyed watching her, and even now was no different. Though, he'd admit she seemed oblivious to his attraction toward her.
"Do you want some?" she asked from the distance, a piece of chocolate cake in her hand.
He chuckled. "No thanks." It was then the phone rang.
Mia returned her attention to her cake while he reluctantly paid attention to his phone.
"Hey, what's up?"
"So you're going to Las Vegas?" Scott asked in greeting.
James wondered how Scott had found out. After all, he hadn't told anyone about the plan. It was only when Mia had requested he take her to see her brother as part of the contract that he'd phoned Matt and told him he was coming, along with Mia. Apart from Matt, no one else knew about the trip, or Mia for that matter.
"Yeah," he said, glancing at Mia, who was now sipping another glass of orange juice.
"Escorting your new girl to see her brother, eh?" Scott even had the nerve to laugh, and James was a little pissed. He knew his brother was teasing.
"Mind your own business," James muttered. "She's my problem."
Scott laughed right out once again. When he managed to calm down, he said, "So she's a problem? Not a contract, even though you did give her one, and not a fling?"
James sighed. He couldn't deny the fact that Mia wasn't a contract. At least he didn't think of her as one, like most of the bright, enthusiastic business starters to whom he loaned money or the lousy business owners who owed him millions. And no, she was definitely not a fling. And yes, she was most definitely a problem, in more ways than one.
One thing was for sure, which he considered a massive problem--the fact that he liked spending time with her and having sex with her, too much.
Oh, he liked having sex with other women, too. He was a man, after all, and he was a Maxwell, for fuck's sake. It was in his blood. The business. The money. The women. The sex. Otherwise, his old man wouldn't have had three different wives and produced three sons, one from each of those wives. And he was going on to number four very soon.
It was a fact James had definitely had flings after his divorce with Whitney. It was always with hot chicks and usually lasted only one night, or on longer terms, about a week tops. He'd lived life in the fast lane--fast women and fast cars and, heck, even faster business and faster money.
Mia, on the other hand? She didn't fit into the mold. She was definitely different and she was definitely a problem. His problem.
"Yep, she's a problem." He agreed, flicking his gaze to the oblivious young woman. She now had a magazine in her hands, reading attentively as if every single word were gospel.
"Care to share the problem?" Scott offered.
The moment his brother uttered that question, James snapped. "Hands off, Scott. Find your own problem to worry about." Of course he knew his brother was only teasing, but he couldn't afford not to make it bluntly clear to whom Mia belonged. She was his and his alone. It had been fine that they shared women in the past, but definitely not now. And definitely not Mia.
Scott laughed whole-heartedly. "Come on, James. Your brother here is just curious about the woman."
"You're just interested to meet her and see if you can lure her into your bed, don't you?" he asked, his eyes looking heavenward.
"Yep. It's not like you'd ever lower yourself to be any girl's escort, whether to see her brother who owes you two million or to see her father who's a British billionaire who also happens to be a most-respected earl of the oldest peerage. I'm very interested to find out how she managed to wrap you around her little finger. It's not like that happens every day." Scott was teasing again.
It was true in the fact that James had never done anything to please anyone before--whether it was an order, a request, or even a plead. He just didn't give a shit about other people's business or agendas. It was also true where a British billionaire who also happened to be an earl of something or other was concerned. About a year ago, he'd had a fling with a hot English chick Elizabeth who'd insisted--no, begged--he fly to England to meet her father for a very good business deal and their possible future together. The woman had thought he was her one true soul mate. Of course, he'd gracefully passed up the offer, but Scott and Eric had never passed up the chance to annoy him with that little incident, telling him what a stupid man he was. It was, after all, another chance to increase his wealth and, more importantly, his connection in another country.
For Mia, however, it was different. He was doing things for her without even realizing it, and he found he liked it, especially when he saw a smile on her face.
Fuck! Had she really wrapped him around her little finger intentionally? No. Mia was too innocent for that type of bullshit. She wasn't like Whitney.
"Enough about my problem," he said and changed the subject before Scott requested an audience with Mia via the phone. Knowing Scott, he'd probably do just that. "So?"
On the other end of the line, Scott knew his brother didn't want to linger on the object of his interest long. Ah, if only he had more time and didn't need to take care of a certain possible family crisis that might happen, he would have loved to go to Vegas and make a surprise visit with Mia Donovan, the woman who was able to capture his brother's interest without even trying.
He understood immediately the change in topic was about their father's future bride, Eric, and Japan.
He went straight to the point. "Dad knows about Eric's trip."
"What's he going to do about it?" James asked.
"Beats me," Scott said. "I have a meeting with him tomorrow."
James sighed. "Keep me posted."
"Sure," Scott said. "Ah, sorry. Isn't it Aria's bedtime?"
"Yes." James said, glancing at his gold watch.
"Tell her I'm giving her lots of hugs and kisses," Scott said. "Talk to you later."
"Sure." James canceled the call and then flicked through his contact list to the one that said Aria. A few rings later, the phone was picked up.
"Daddy?" came Aria's voice.
"Hey, sweetheart," James said. "How was your day?"
Aria giggled, pleased that her father called her before bedtime to ask her how her day was and say good night. It was the usual routine whenever he was away from home on his business trips.
The little girl happily went on for about ten minutes, telling him about her day at school and then her piano lesson. She even proudly told him Sammy was now eating when she told him to, that the dog was very obedient.
While she talked, James had a smile on his face, and now and again, he'd flick his eyes to watch Mia, who was still reading the magazine raptly.
"Daddy?" Aria finally finished the recount of her day and changed the subject. "When are you bringing Mia home?"
James couldn't help but notice Aria referred to Mia as if the woman belonged in their life and home. They had only met once, hadn't they?
"In a couple days, sweetheart, after Daddy finishes business."
"Oh."
She sounded disappointed, and James felt more than a little guilty in that regard. To redeem himself, he said, "I'm on my way to Las Vegas for business right now, Aria. Do you want anything?"
Her tone changed immediately, and then she giggled. "Oh, Daddy, yes please."
It was another five minutes when he finally managed to say good night. Aria sleepily replied that she couldn't wait for his return and to meet Mia once again so they could do fun stuff together.
Once he hung up, Mia came over to sit beside him and said, "Were you talking to your daughter?"
James was immediately curious to know how she came up with that idea. After all, he'd never told her he had a daughter before, although she'd met with Aria on that first day. But no one he'd met before ever assumed he had a child.
"Aria?" She continued when he didn't reply. "She's so cute."
"How did you know Aria is my daughter?" he asked, his head cocked to one side.
"Oh... She resembles you a lot. I mean, not in character. Her looks. Dark hair and those blue eyes."
"She could have been my sister," he said just to tease her.
She snorted. "She is definitely not your sister," she said, shaking her head. "I know it in my gut. Besides, the way you talked to her on the phone, it's the way a father talks to his daughter. With love." She even smiled to make her point.
He laughed, and because he bloody well couldn't help himself, he drew his head toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips and then on her forehead.
When he withdrew, she stared at him. "You know, you're always kissing me. Is that normal? I mean, as part of our relationship?"
He noted she omitted the master and mistress part on purpose. Of course he didn't know whether it was normal to kiss her in that way--the non-lustful way, but rather the affectionate way like he kissed his daughter. And yes, he had just realized he was doing exactly that when she mentioned it.
Refusing to think any more of sweet, affectionate kiss and shutting her up, he claimed her lips and kissed her passionately, wild tongue and all.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 28
Mia
"I didn't go through your stuff," James said, his eyes on the road. He chuckled low as if he found my jumping to conclusion amusing. "Give me some credit, Mia."
I blushed. What was I supposed to think? He'd bought me clothes that fit me perfectly. If he didn't go through my stuff to figure out my size, then how did he know?
"I notice everything about you," he explained. There was hint of a teasing within his deep voice that I didn't miss.
I turned my gaze to him. I couldn't help but admire his profile. He was indeed a very handsome man with a long, straight nose, perfectly high cheekbones, and a firm jawline. I was surprised there wasn't a queue of females clinging onto him, even for a one-night stand. I myself wouldn't mind having a one-night stand with him, even though I did vow to myself I would never do such a thing.
Talking about a line of female fans... Perhaps I had yet to find that out. After all, there was still a lot of things I didn't know about James Maxwell. Such as that beautiful Sophie for example. What was she in relation to James? She lived in the mansion; that much I knew. Was she his wife? That thought made me feel a little sick in the stomach.