Page 6 of Accidental Mile High Daddy

She smirked. “Then why not take a private jet?”

Shit. “It’s cheaper. I don’t mind it,” I lied coolly. “Economy’s tanking, saving where I can.”

She let out a low laugh. “That’s either bullshit or both of us are pretending to be rich.”

“Youare pretending.” I leaned onto the counter and let my fist take the weight of my chin. “I am not.”

“And yet here we are,” she said, swirling the ice in her glass like it was a wine needing to be aerated. “Same seats. Same drinks. Same flight. Me in a sundress I bought at TJ Maxx on clearance, and you in… Christ, what is that, Tom Ford?”

“Custom,” I said simply.

She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue like she was gagging.God.“Of course it is.”

There was something about her that refused to be intimidated, even when she knew exactly how far out of her depth she was—it wasn’t desperation. It wasn’t the wide-eyed gold-digging I was used to. It was stubbornness, and it was fucking sexy on her.

Her gaze flicked over to me again, lingering on my hand a little longer than the last couple of times. Then it shifted, moving across my chest, my arms, my neck. She wasn’t subtle, but she wasn’t trying to be, andthatwas one thing I was used to. Her eyes came back up to mine, and I saw it there, the tiniest crack in her armor. The moment to strike.

She knew it too.

I leaned in slightly, letting my voice drop. “You keep looking at my hands.”

She blinked.Slowly.“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” I smirked, knocking back the last of my whiskey and setting it down with an audibleclack. “Or are you justverybad at hiding how much you’re thinking about what else they can do besides holding a glass?”

She held her drink near her lips, staring me down, a little patch of fog springing up on her glass. Her gaze flickered for the briefest of seconds down to my mouth, then back up again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Matt.”

Matt.Was that the first time she’d said it? It sounded good from her lips.

Something about the way she looked at me, the way she let my eyes drag over her again, made me want to push.

I leaned in a little further, voice lower. “Have you ever done something you weren’t supposed to on an airplane?”

Her stubborn expression faltered just ahair. “Define ‘wasn’t supposed to’.”

“You’re smart, Sienna.” I held her gaze. “You already know what I mean.”

She set her glass down slowly, deliberately, and turned fully toward me, her bare foot bouncing. Her knee brushed against my thigh, and I nearly had to restrain myself. “Is that your line?”

“I don’t use lines. I make an offer,” I said casually. “And you say yes, or you don’t.”

She tilted her head. “Whatexactlyare you offering, Matt?”

There it was again. My name. It sounded fuckingsinful.“A distraction.”

She blinked.

“That partition between our suites,” I drawled. “It goes all the way down. The beds connect.”

I watched as her throat worked.

My lips split into a grin. “How good are you at being quiet, Sienna?”

She stared at me, her lips parted, her pupils dilating, for what felt like a lifetime. “You’re serious.”

“Dead.”

“What makes you think I’d say yes?”