by Ames, Ilsa
I settled into the seat of the private plane, another gift from my father’s estate, and relaxed, my gorgeous—if not bribed—bride beside me. Where the hell had this gorgeous woman come from? I glanced at her and saw the nervousness on her face as the plane started take off.
I didn’t think, I just reached over and took her hand. She turned, giving me a small, tight smile, gasping as the plane lifted and the wheels tucked up.
“Hey, the hard part is done,” I shrugged. “We’ve left the runway now.”
All I could do was hope I was right.
4
June
Tiago held my hand until the plane had reached the right altitude, and I thought he’d let it go, but he kept it in his hand.
God it felt good.
I didn’t want to—I wanted to leave my hand there twined around his. But eventually, I tugged mine out of his anyway. This was going to be difficult enough for me without getting attached.
He just felt sorry for me, I told myself, he’d sensed I was afraid of flying and had tried to comfort me. That was all. It didn’t matter if my brain dredged up the melody of a song from my college days, a song about a man’s promise to his woman about how he’d take her sadness away and he’d love her forever. The man next to me, husband or not, was not in love with me.
But that was the whole point. That was the deal.
That didn’t stop my heart from thinking that Tiago would probably add to my pain and sadness, not take it away. I turned in my seat to stare out of the window. I could see fluffy white clouds, and the wing of the plane, and not much more.
“How long is the flight again?” I asked, more for something to say to break the silence than curiosity.
“A little over six hours. You know, there’s a bed in the back.”
I yanked my head around before I could think it through, my eyes going wide as saucers and my cheeks turning pink.
Tiago grinned, shaking his head as he raked his fingers over his chin.
“To sleep, June.” His eyes smirked at me and the wild look in my eyes as I cringed, realizing how wrong I’d taken his words.
He turned and jerked a thumb at a door behind us.
“A nap might be good,” I mumbled, trying to swallow the blush away. I’d barely slept the night before. Truth be told, I hadn’t been sure I’d go through with the wedding until I woke up this morning. But I knew deep down that there was no way I could let Layla, or my organization, down.
I chanced a glance back to his face, and when I saw him still grinning at me, I felt the blush bloom right back into my cheeks.”
“I do like where you head went there, though,” Tiago chuckled, flashing that completely charming, completely panty-melting smile at me, and I blushed even deeper.
“I’m just giving you a hard time, you know,” he winked, his eyes darting over mine. “Look, I know we aren’t doing that. You know, with the in vitro thing and all.” He smiled, shrugging. “So, relax, June. We won’t have to have sex.”
I tried to brush it off like I’d just misheard him, but when I turned back to glance out the window, I wasn’t done thinking about it.
What had that last part meant? We won’t have to have sex?
Have to.
Did that mean he did want to but figured it was off the table. And was it? Or did he mean he didn’t want to anyways? I knew I wasn’t ugly, tame perhaps, but not ugly. I’d made an effort to look nice for the photographer, and Tiago, but I knew I wasn’t a model. Maybe he didn’t find the idea repugnant?
I stood up and ducked my head down to hide my blush and bit my lip, so I wouldn’t say something stupid. I had a habit of that, when I spoke too often. It seems I definitely had a habit of it around him.
Keep it simple, I told myself.
“That’s great. I mean about the in vitro stuff. And the bed.” I shut up before I could say anything that would make it awkward. I made my way to the back of the jet and through the door, sinking onto the bed as I shut myself away.
I pulled the soft blanket over my face and wanted to scream. I hadn’t said anything stupid, but I hadn’t said I didn’t want to have sex with him either.
And, well, that would have been a lie. A big one. I mean, good God, I’d literally had to go out and buy a new vibrator the day after he’d made his proposal to me. Of course, I wanted to have sex with him. Who wouldn’t?
I crawled up onto the bed properly, glad I’d changed at the bar into a dress made of soft cotton and sandals and let myself relax. It was fine. Sex had never been part of the deal anyways, and this was just me confusing my own feelings for him with the offer on the table. So, sex wasn’t going to happen? Fine. I’d brought my own means anyways.
I blushed, thinking of the small vibrator I’d packed and hoping to God it didn’t go off in my luggage. That stray thought made me giggle and I relaxed a little more.
The bed was comfortable, so I fell asleep quickly. Hey, fake or not, a wedding is exhausting. The day had left me beat, and it wasn’t even over yet.
And so, I slept, and I dreamed. And the dreams I had were very naughty ones that left me hot and restless when I woke up. Tiago featured in all of them. His eyes, his hands, his lips, all had played their part until I woke up just before he pushed me over the edge.
“Fuck!” I muttered to myself. I sat up, tried to brush my hair into some semblance of respectability with my fingers, and finally gave up and took it all down. I threw the hairpins in the trash can at the side of the bed and got up.
I looked down to see my dress wrinkled beyond belief, but it would have to do. I stepped out of the small bedroom to find Tiago asleep with his seat pushed back. His face was towards me when I sat down, and I found myself studying him.
Damn he was beautiful. But more than that, he was handsome. His face was the perfect mix of a strong jaw, a straight nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and gorgeous eyes that took my breath away even closed.
His skin had this stunning Mediterranean tan, and with his black hair, I wondered if his parents had been Italian, or Greek or something. I’d ask him, at some point, I promised myself.
I wanted to touch his smooth cheek. And I was about to reach out and do just that when his eyes opened. They were rimmed in black lashes so thick it almost looked as if he always had eyeliner on. I wondered if the rest of him was as gorgeous.
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
I smiled, quickly yanking my hand back.
“You get some sleep?”
I nodded.
Tiago smiled, clearing his throat as he sat up. “Hey, you want to have dinner with me tonight?” He grinned. “I mean, it is our wedding day, after all. We shouldn’t spend it alone.” He gave me a sleepy smile and of course, I couldn’t say no.
How could I with those puppy dog eyes?
“Sure, that sounds nice, actually. I’d planned to eat in my room and read, but if you want to have dinner, that’d be great.”
I probably should have told him no and nipped anything that might happen in the bud, but I couldn’t. Not with those sleepy, sexy eyes. Not after those dreams and the things he did in them. I felt something deep inside clench as he continued to look at me sleepily.
“You looked beautiful today, you know,” he purred. “Stunning.” His finger came up to track down my jaw and I froze.
Shit. That shouldn’t send a tingle all the way down between my thighs, should it? It was only his finger, tracing down my jaw, but just the same
I swallowed back the heat, smiling innocently at him.
“Thanks. You looked pretty handsome up there yourself, you know. Any girl’s fantasy.”
Yep, and just like I said: stupid shit came out when I wasn’t careful.
“You think so, huh?” He gave me that sly grin I’d watched him give women at the bar before—like the blonde from the night he asked me to marry him. But I’d never gotten that look.
I blinked at him.
I looked away and looked back. He still wore th
at grin.
“Yes, you did.”
Then the plane’s captain interrupted to tell us we were about to land and to buckle up. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I realized we were about to land. It was the take-off and landing parts of flying that I hated. I could handle the bit in the middle, that part was fine, but the start and end always freaked me out.
I gripped onto the armrests and held on tight, my eyes closed tight. Then I felt Tiago’s hand grip mine.
“Hey, it’s okay. Almost done.”
Would he always be so kind? I gripped his hand and before I knew it, the plane had stopped, and the door opened.
Warm air greeted us as we stepped out of the plane and I couldn’t believe the sun was still up here. Hawaii was three hours behind California, so this was a new experience for me. I kind of felt as if I’d travelled back in time, a little. That made me smile and I heard the sound of a camera going off.
“We need pictures of the honeymoon,” Tiago grumbled sheepishly, frowning at the phone in his hand. “For the lawyer.”
“Oh, right. I just hope that doesn’t mean they expect bedroom pictures too?”
I blushed bright red the second I said it, but suddenly, I wondered if my joke was true. I mean, would they? As “proof” or something? Would Tiago’s father have been that sadistic?
He hadn’t said much to me about his father. But from the way he spoke about him, and this whole elaborate game, I had to come to the conclusion that his father might have been a bigger asshole than even my own father. And that was a huge hurdle to overcome.
“No,” he shook his head. “Nothing like that. I might have turned it all down if it had been. I don’t share things like that, with anybody.” He straightened the dark blue, thin linen sports jacket he wore over a white shirt, and headed for the car sent to pick us up.
“The flight crew will load our luggage. Do you want a drink? I bet there’s probably something in the car.” He opened the door for me and I slid in to find luxurious leather in the open space of the limousine. He was right too, there was a small mini bar.
I poured a small bottle of white wine into a glass and sat back as he prepared a rum and Coke for himself. I watched him, as I always had, and wondered how the night would end. With me alone in bed, I was sure, but how nice would it be to make those dreams I’d had a reality?
“How did it go in dreamland?” he asked, and I spluttered into my wine.
“Pardon?” I wiped at my face and the top of my dress, I didn’t dare look at him.
“On the plane? Did you sleep well? Or did you have nightmares about crashing?” His face only displayed curiosity.
I’d wondered, for a moment, if he’d read my thoughts. Had he seen the dream of his face between my thighs, or the one where he had me pinned to the wall, his body hard against mine? I felt my cheeks go warm and crossed my legs in an attempt to make that tingle go away. Or last a little longer.
Honestly, it felt good to want him.
“I, um, I slept well, thanks. I was exhausted, and the bed had one of those memory foam toppers on it or something. I felt like I sank into a cloud, and before I knew it, I was asleep.” I knew it was all just babble, but I had to say something. Otherwise he’d ask why my cheeks had turned pink.
****
“I’ll have to try it out on the flight home. It’s a night flight, so maybe we can get some use out of it and make the trip shorter at the same time?” His grin was cocky this time, his gaze as direct as it always was lately.
Was that a come-on? Had he just offered to take me to bed with him? I looked down at my nails, painted with a pale pink that was almost white. Did he realize it was symbolic for me, a symbol of my purity? I closed my eyes, so he wouldn’t see me roll them at my own whimsical thoughts.
“Purity.” Please. I was a virgin because there’d never been anyone I found desirable enough to sleep with. It wasn’t religion or anything that’d kept me “pure,” or “untouched,” or whatever you want to call it. It was my own work schedule and my own stupidly high standards.
And hell, it hadn’t even just been sex that work had kept me away from. This plane ride was the first vacation of my life. Ever.
“You alright?” I realized I hadn’t answered his question, too lost in my own reverie.
“Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about what food the resort might have. I recommend the bed on the flight home, it’s comfy. You should try it out.” That didn’t sound like I’d made him an offer, at all, right?
“We’ll be at the resort in a few minutes. I had to book a single room to make the lawyers happy.” He shrugged. “We could also always get the concierge to send up a second bed though, if you want.”
“That might be good,” I said quickly. “I don’t sleep well on my own as it is. I don’t know how I’d sleep with someone else in the bed—”
I stopped myself, quickly looking away.
Tiago frowned, as if about to ask “what do you mean you don’t know how you’d sleep with someone else in your bed? You’re twenty-four,” and I cringed.
But, he paused, opening his mouth again before closing it.
At the front desk when we arrived, he did try to arrange for a second bed to be brought up, or for a room with two. But the resort was full. Over-booked, actually. Which meant no new room. No second bed.
…Which meant we were definitely going to sleeping in the same bed. Together.
No big deal. Whatever.
…My lame attempts at trying to downplay it in my head went down in flames. I tried not to let it make me nervous, but I was about to fail miserably. My hand shook when we got in the elevator and the doors closed.
It was those stupid dreams that made it a problem. He could just pin me against the elevator and…
Ding.
The elevator stopped and saved me from my filthy thoughts. Thoughts, or even impulses that might’ve horribly embarrassed me. Scratch that, that I know would’ve embarrassed me.
We went in together, and I saw there were two beds in the luxuriously decorated room. Soft tans, whites, and browns made the room seem clean and crisp, the kind of place for the executive affairs I’d read about in romance novels. I didn’t know those kinds of places really existed, but I was in one now.
Flustered, I pulled my suitcase up onto the bed and started to unpack. The dying light of the sun slanted onto the duvet on my bed and I thought that would be the perfect light for some of those cover photos. If only Tiago would take me in his arms and pull me down with him—maybe half-tear my clothes off with his own chest bare—we could make one of those covers a real-life experience.
I bit my lip, pushed my hair behind my ear, and started to put clothes on my side of the closet. Tiago went to the bathroom to check it out, then came in to put coffee on to brew. “You want a cup? I definitely need one after the day we’ve had.”
“Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice.” I gave a brief smile and went back to my task. I slid the case into the closet once it was empty and looked around.
If I stay in this room alone with him, I might scream.
Well, that or make a fool of myself when I jumped him and tackled him to the bed in a fit of passion.
I took a shaky breath and turned to smile brightly.
“I think I’ll take a shower before dinner if you don’t mind?”
Tiago just grinned as he nodded with his chin to the bathroom.
“Hey, what’s mine is yours, right?”
5
June
I turned away awkwardly and ducked into the bathroom. I had a pile of clothes in my hands. Makeup too. Back home, I’d had the woman at the department store counter go over how to apply the lightest traces of the stuff, and found it wasn’t that difficult, not for the simple look I wanted. My clothes still had the tags on them, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I hadn’t bought brand new clothes in ages. I usually went to second hand shops or went without. The last week had been like a dream, and that surreal quality plague
d me still. I’d learned to put on makeup, had help from Tiago’s bar manager, Amber, to pick out my wedding dress and some clothes, and now I was about to step out with my hair down.
I’d had it cut before the wedding and it was now just below my shoulders but styled with a shape that allowed the slight curls to bounce around. The stylist had been envious that I didn’t need a curling iron and had taught me how to dry it, so it would look as if I’d spent hours on it.
I raced through my new routine after the hot shower relaxed me, and then looked in the mirror to see the finished result. A woman with light brown hair around her shoulders, pretty green eyes, and a nice figure encased in a clingy black dress stared back at me.
Yikes, who the heck are you?
I looked younger than usual, I looked my age for a change. Not like a middle-aged spinster from the 1950s. I turned to see the effect of the dress and thought I looked sophisticated, which I thought was amazing. Who knew I had an ass like that?
I stepped out of the bathroom to see Tiago had changed while I was in the bathroom. He wore a black suit, with black trousers, and patent leather shoes. I knew he was in his early thirties, but he looked younger right now. And hot, of course. Even hotter than usual, even. I mean he always looked good in jeans and a t-shirt at the bar. But dressed up, the man looked like an Armani model. He had a well-built body that even the suit enhanced. Powerful arms, a trim waist, and strong thighs. I knew he had the calves to go with those thighs too, he’d worn shorts at the bar before, and I have to say, apparently, I’m a sucker for nice calves on a man.
Tiago was the total package, and tonight he was with me. I hadn’t let myself hope or pretend that we could turn this into a real honeymoon, but now, as I looked at his stunned face when I came out of the bathroom, I thought maybe it was a possibility.
