Page 60 of Naughty or Nice

There—I’ve said it. It’s out there.

Her lashes flicker, her eyes water. Jesus, she’s going to cry.

‘I... I don’t know what to say.’

‘Nothing. You need to eat. And then you need to sleep.’

She’s staring at me as if I’ll give her more, but I’m done with opening up. My body is tight with it.

Fear. That’s what it is. Fear of where it puts us now. Because the one thing I’m sure of is that I love her. Still love her. And she loves her family. Her family who hate me.

I watch as she cuts up her food, but I sense that her mind is racing with what I’ve told her. Hell, mine is. What did I hope to gain? A sweeping confession of something similar from herself? And even if she had, then what?

The problem is I’m selfish. I have no one else. I only have to look out for me.

Which means I should be going after not just her business but her heart too, and saying to hell with the Beaumonts.

I should make her choose. Them or me.

I should.

But I can’t.

She forks the food and places it in her mouth. Her shoulders relax, her lashes lower and then she smiles, pleasure ringing through her and pulling me in.

Screw the Beaumonts—make her choose.

CHAPTER TEN

DINNER IS INCREDIBLE. Fine dining at its best, all at forty-odd thousand feet in the air. It’s almost too good to believe, but my taste buds are still zinging over the lemon tart I ate for dessert and I’m still crushing over the jet itself.

It’s real.

I blame it on the designer in me. I’ve only seen a glimpse of the galley kitchen beyond the door behind me—all black and glossy, with crystalware on display in a high cabinet and accented lighting that you’d expect in a slick city apartment.

The cabin we’re in features a plush sofa, seats that swivel and recline, a high-tech TV and sound system, and the dining table at which we sit is laid out like a high-end restaurant. All in colours designed to soothe and relax.

And I am so relaxed.

The flight is smooth; only the gentle hum of the engine, the dry air and the strange headiness that comes with flying remind me that we are truly on a plane.

This kind of luxury is beyond belief. I knew people did this sort of thing—of course I did. I just never expected to be one of them.

And it truly does beg the question... What would it be like?

I look at him sitting across from me. He’s checking his phone, his face serious and so goddamn sexy. It should be a crime to be this attractive, this distracting.

And the way he watched me through dinner... My body warms at the memory. He wants me as much as I want him. I know it. And who wouldn’t want to experience an orgasm at altitude just to know if it’s truly that good?

And just maybe the fizz is going to your head quicker than normal and your inhibitions have gone the way of your brain. Hmm...entirely possible... But do I care?

His eyes lift to mine and my breath catches, my pulse making a little trip of its own. No.

‘All okay?’ I say, amazed that I sound relatively normal.

‘Yes.’

‘Care to share?’ I ask.