I smile back, immediately realizing three things: he knows without a doubt the effect he has on women; I should stay away or I’ll get burned; and I’ve forgotten why I’m even here.
Silence builds between us and the air thickens. I lick my lips and his gaze falls to my mouth. This is insane. I glance around us, trying to find my bearings. “Yes, I am. Have you seen… Oh, never mind.” Behind him I catch sight of what I’m looking for. “I have a plane to catch, sorry again for falling all over you.”
He laughs. “My pleasure.”
“Have a nice journey. Wherever you’re going.” I fire off a brief smile at the man with the warm voice and eyes like oceans, blushing furiously, and then I flee. Peeking behind me, I quickly turn when I catch him looking at me, my heart shooting to my throat. Vacation awaits. Dominican Republic. I need to focus to get to the right gate, and not get lost in a wave of hormones. I hasten my steps, glancing at the clock. I have time. Sneaking another peek behind me, I feel a sting of disappointment, realizing I lost him in the crowd.
I’m almost at the gate when I pass a little café and the smell of coffee throws me off course. I haven’t had any yet today, and I so need it. People haven’t even begun to line up for boarding yet, so I should have a few minutes. I decide to go for it. Juggling my cup and my bags, I make it to the table and sink down with a sigh. To distract myself from the upcoming flight, I flip through a travel magazine before I let it fall. I don’t know when I’ll get to travel again. Maybe when I’m retired. I don’t expect a lot of time off in the foreseeable future. I have too much on my plate at the hotel. They let me off this week, because I’ve been working harder than anyone lately, but I’m probably going to have piles of work when I get back.
I think of the tall, dark man with the incredibly blue eyes. His hand on my arm, his solid chest and his husky voice. I wonder who he is, and where he’s going.
“Last call for flight DL 238 to the Dominican Republic, go to gate B 26. Last call for flight DL 238, go to gate B 26.”
With my heart in my throat I shoot to my feet, take a last sip, and start running, feeling a little guilty for leaving the tray on the table.
I’m out of breath when I hand my boarding pass to the woman at the gate. I don’t want to fly! What was I thinking? Flying domestic is pain enough, now we’ll pass over all that water! The narrow aisle in the plane is claustrophobic, filled with luggage and passengers. I keep glancing out the windows in between looking for my seat, longing to be out there instead. I struggle with my heavy bag as I try to stow it in the overhead compartment and get an extra hand from an elderly gentleman next to me. Saying my thanks, I then turn my attention to the passenger sitting in the seat closest to the aisle.
“Excuse me, I think I have the seat by the window.”
He looks up, and I’m met by a pair of glittering blue eyes. The shockwave hits me like a blunt force to my midsection and I gasp. Nathan, the bane of my existence last night, and then again, a little while ago, frowns as his mouth falls open, then his face cracks into a wide smile.
“You’re kidding!”
My heart stutters. I don’t know if I should celebrate or run. I inhale shakily. “Nope. That’s definitely my seat.”
His eyes don’t leave mine as he stands. “Girl, you have the worst luck.”
“Worst?” I laugh, half-hysterical.
He has moved out of the way, but because the aisle is still fairly crowded, he can’t get out completely. “Mm-hmm. You didn’t seem overly keen on my presence last night.”
I squeeze in, and as I push past him, it’s as if a current passes through me. I suppress the gasp that is close to escaping my lips and fall into my seat. “Because you acted like a dick.”
He laughs. “This is a bit awkward.”
“Not if you behave,” I quip.
He’s silent and I turn my head, taking in the devilishly handsome face of my flight neighbor. I didn’t see it fully by the bar, in the dark, and not in my confusion when I slammed into him earlier, but it’s as if I’m the magnetic south, and I just found north. I’m going to drown in those eyes if I keep staring.
Nathan
Holy fucking mother of… Maybe I should start believing in something. It’s the mysterious brunette. Fate maybe. Hardly Karma, considering me being… me.
Hot and sweaty at the club. Stressed and wobbly at the airport. And now sitting next to me with a nervous smile and huge green eyes that beam like stars. Her gaze hits me like a punch to my gut and I can’t seem to tear my eyes off her.
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not known for behaving.”
“How are you with awkward silences, then?”
“I slay them with my dazzling persona,” I say and wink.
The girl scoffs. “You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Lady, I’m as bad as they come.” A tingle spreads through my chest. She’s fucking pleased to see me again. Every predatory instinct in me has awoken. Forget being exhausted after last night. I feel like a lion before a mouse. A very delectable mouse.
She gives me a glare, but her eyes glitter with mischief.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” I say. “You could have asked me for directions, and let me be a gentleman and carry that annoying suitcase.”
She glances up at the overhead compartment and makes a face. “Oh, no, I’m much too emancipated to let a man take my burdens off me.”
I laugh. “Yeah, and you would have missed your lovely breakfast moment.”
She drops her chin. “Wait, what? You saw me?”
“Tiny chick, crappy bag, big cup of coffee. Hard to miss.” Of course I saw her. How could I not? A few paces to the side from the gate. Lost in thought. Her pull on me is crazy. It’s as if she has been pinned on my inner radar and I don’t know what to think about it. It makes me curious, uneasy, and high on life in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Oh,” she says and looks a bit baffled. “I nearly had a heart attack when I realized I was late. I’m never late. But I hadn’t had breakfast.” The words spill from her lips in a rush. She’s nervous.
“Well, breakf—” I’m interrupted by the flight attendant’s usual announcements.
My pretty little acquaintance jerks, looks in the seat pocket in front of her, pulls out the safety information card and reads the instructions. She half raises, looking for the exits, before she falls back down on her seat again. The engines hum louder, and we start moving across the tarmac. She fumbles with her seat belt, securing it tighter, and checks her cell phone before putting it back in her purse. Chewing her lower lip, she looks out the window, back to her lap, then out the window again. She turns to me with a sheepish smile on her face. I’m taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, but then I realize she’s afraid. Not of me, but of taking off.
“Don’t like flying?”
“Not a lot, no. Tiny bit horrified.” She indicates a small distance between her thumb and index finger.
“Want a warm, strong hand to hold?” I lay my hand on the armrest between us, palm up, offering it, silently urging her to take it.
Sydney
My heart leaps to my throat as I look at his offered palm. Hell no. Too much. “No, thank you. I’m not that afraid.”
“All right, suit yourself,” he says lightly, and pulls it back, tying his hands together in his lap.
The motor sound increases, and I grip the armrests until my knuckles turn white. I look out the window and then squeeze my eyes shut. They fly open again when something touches my arm.
“I feel we got off on the wrong foot. Can I start over? I’m Nathan.” He offers me his hand again, but for a greeting this time.
I glance at him, then out the window, then back at him, then I force myself to let go of the support I’ve been clinging to and take his hand. It’s warm, dry, and strong. It is a very pleasant handshake.
“Yeah, I’d say we did. I’m Sydney.” I laugh and shake my head. “Great psychology there. The distracti
on.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Yeah? Good?”
“Very good. Natural talent or profession?”
“Natural talent,” he says with an unreadable expression. Holding my hand the tiniest fraction too long, he then lets me go with a comforting squeeze.
I wonder what else he might be good at. There’s an air of competence around him. It’s quite intriguing. We’re in the air, the rocking and bumping has smoothed out, and I deflate, the tension gradually leaving me.
“So,” I say. “Business or pleasure?”
“A bit of both.” There’s a hint of a flirt in his gaze, and it shoots straight to the pit of my belly. “How about you, Sydney? Business, or—pleasure?”
How does he make one word sound so dirty? I swallow hard. “Pleasure, I guess. I’m on vacation.”
“Vacation… But you are on your own? Didn’t your significant other want to come with?”
“You suck at being sneaky, you know that, right? Didn’t you already decide I was single? Last night?”
“Yeah… I was full of shit.”
“I’d say!”
He grins and throws up his hands. “Caught red-handed. But you’re alone, and I’m curious.”
“Mm-hmm…” I say and hold back the answer, just to tease him.
He keeps my gaze, his eyes partly hidden under dark strands of hair. I want to push them out of his face. The sudden urge to touch him surprises me. I stroke my palms on my skirt, smoothing out a couple of wrinkles, and clear my throat.
“Well, not that it’s any of your business, but no. No significant other.”
His eyes don’t let go of mine and it’s as if his darken a shade, the sight setting off a swarm of butterflies in my belly.
“That is unbelievable. An attractive woman like you. Are all the men in… wherever you live, blind?”
I snort. “No. I think the men where I live have perfect vision.”
“Is that so? Where do you live then? Because you’re definitely no New Yorker. Or is this turning stalker-ish now? I have a bad habit of getting people to spill their innermost secrets.”
“Oh, I won’t tell you anything I don’t want to, and yes, you’re a terrible stalker. I should alert the stewardess immediately and have them detain you.”
A flash of seriousness crosses his features and then it is gone. He holds up his hands and shoves his wrists together. “Cuff me, Miss Stewardess,” he says in a mock subdued voice. “I cannot live with myself for terrorizing this young woman.” He leans closer. “And if I want you to let go of your secrets, you will, trust me. But I’ll be good. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He crosses himself.
I slap at his hands. “Jeez. I live in Miami. No big secret. And you, good? That’ll be the day.”
“Miami. The Sunshine state. And what do you do in Miami? Wait. Let me guess. Definitely something touristy… You’re a tour guide in the Everglades.”
I burst out in a laugh. “Hotel. But yours was better. I like alligators. As long as they stay out of my pool.”
“Hotel…” He seems to taste the word. “Upper management.”
I shake my head. Well, I am on my way up, but I don’t quite know where I stand at the moment. “Floor. Lobby. The usual. Running around. Pleasing tourists.”
“Are you good at that? Pleasing?”
Swallowing too hard, I squirm and try to suppress the jolt that shoots through me at his suggestive tone. “I—”He laughs. It’s so freaking obvious that he sees my sudden discomfort. I bet my cheeks are beet red.
“So, what gave New York the pleasure?”
“I visited my mom.” I chew on my lower lip and try to shake off the jittery feeling. “And danced…”
“Did you enjoy the nightlife, then? Or were the men too much?”
I study him a moment before I answer. “They were awful. I’m never setting my foot there again.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”
I try to look stern but fail, because I’m completely dazzled by his presence. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”
He cocks his head as his gaze wanders to my lips, chest, and down my body before it turns back up to meet my eyes. “The verdict’s still out.”
Him looking me over is an almost physical sensation and I fight to breathe. “Are you always so direct?”
He regards me for a while before answering, narrowing his eyes a tad. “It tends to work.”
“Really? Guess your radar was way off last night.”
“I wasn’t myself.”
“I have a feeling that’s exactly who you were.”
He winces. “Any chance I can redeem myself?”
I purse my lips. “Maybe. But you gotta be very nice.”
“Oh, I don’t do nice.” His gaze darkens a shade before he gives me a crooked grin.
My mouth falls open as my heart jumps to my throat. Not the answer I was expecting. A thrill runs through me. There’s a part of me that likes the thought of a not so nice man very, very much. Not nice in all the right ways. It’s a dirty little part I’ve hidden throughout my whole adult life.
“Okay… Wasn’t expecting that. What do you do, then?”
“Not much. I live a dull life.”
I take in his taut body, and his wickedly handsome face. The way he looks at me makes my gut clench in a not-unpleasant way.
“I somehow doubt that.”
I know I’m flirting. I’m giddy to have a few days off. I’m free, and without a care in the world. Why shouldn’t I allow myself this? He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Why shouldn’t I indulge in a little four-hour adventure? Jayna’s and Jesse’s voices ring in my ears. ‘Live a little’. Even Dad said it.
“So. What kind of business are you off to?” I ask.
He stiffens slightly. Pulls back. “Really? You wanna talk about work?”
“Sure. I want to see what kind of person you are, and if you’re worth the trouble.”
He puts a hand over his heart. “Trouble? Really? What kind of… trouble?”
And there he goes again. Making one little word sound so dirty.
“I’m—I’m sorry.” I feel like an absolute jerk. What’s with me? “That was so rude. No work then?” My cheeks heat up all the way to my ears in embarrassment. He makes me say the most stupid things.
“I’d love it if we agreed on that.” He smiles broadly, then he leans closer. “And I am worth the trouble.”
I snap my mouth shut and swallow hard. Yikes. I’m only a girl, and I’m not equipped for the tsunami of attention Nathan directs at me. His suggestive tone makes my pussy tingle and I clench my thighs, gulping for air. “Absolutely,” I say shakily. “No more work. So, are you from New York?”
He’s silent a little too long. Then he suddenly looks down at my feet. “You should put your wallet back in your purse. It fell out.”
“Oh, thank you.” As I reach for it, I realize he dodged my question. Again.
Chapter 4
Nathan
She asks about my business. I scoff inwardly. Should I tell her about the murders, the illegal gambling, my uncle Salvatore, the most ruthless mob boss on the West Coast of the US of A? I think I need to pass on that one.
There is an announcement that breakfast is about to be served. Her stomach growls loud enough for me to hear it.
“Sounds like you need it.”
“Coffee,” she moans.
“Needing more already after that bucket you downed at the airport?”
”Yeah, about that. How did you even see what I was drinking? That’s insane. Do you keep track of everything?”
“One of my many talents.”
“What other talents do you have?” she blurts out, then her cheeks turn pink again.
I’m losing track of how many times I’ve made her blush. I hide a grin that would’ve come off as too predatory, because that’s how I feel. She’s flirting and the thrill of the hunt runs through me. This might turn out to be quite the rid
e. We’re interrupted by a stewardess who greets us enthusiastically.
“Breakfast?”
“Oh yes, please,” Sydney gasps, making me burst out in a laugh.
I fold down our tables and the stewardess hands us an aluminum package and a fresh piece of bread.
“And coffee for the both of us, please.” I turn back to Sydney. “So, why are you uncomfortable flying?” I honestly don’t understand it. It’s much more dangerous driving a car, for instance, and I bet she does that every day without thinking twice about it. She looks down at her lap and fiddles with the hem of her skirt. I lay a hand on hers to calm her. “Sorry, shouldn’t have brought it up.” She looks up at me with those big green eyes, the mirth is suddenly gone, replaced by a confusing mix of emotions that I can’t interpret.
“No, it’s okay. My uncle died in a plane crash when I was little. My mother didn’t take it too well and the whole thing was a big trauma in our family. I mean… Mom lost her brother, and my grandparents died when she was little. It left her with no birth family. It was… Pretty bad.”
“That sucks. How old were you?” I still have my hand on hers and she hasn’t pulled away. I try to be attentive on her story, but her warm skin on mine does me in.
She grimaces. “Six.”
“Must have been very frightening to a little girl.” I still don’t understand it, though. She’s an adult now. It’s not rational. I can’t help thinking that my fucking mob boss uncle should have been the one in that crash instead. It would have saved a lot of people a lot of grief. A flash of sadness crosses her face before she looks out the window and clenches her fist, my cue to give her some space.
Russo Saga Collection Page 3