Girl on a Plane

by Cassandra O'Leary

  CHAPTER NINE

  The doorbell trilled from downstairs and Sinead leapt from her bed to her feet, hurriedly pulling on her ever-so-hot black leather boots. The combination of the knee-high boots and the more demure dress was a winner, especially as the dress hugged her curves so well and showed a hint of thigh through the split when she moved.

  She couldn’t wait to open the door and gauge Gabriel’s reaction. But she slowed down. It probably wouldn’t do to seem too eager. Even though she was.

  Stopping at the mirror to slather on another layer of cherry lip gloss, she stopped mid-pout. What would she do if he tried to kiss her tonight? She wanted to hold her ground, but she’d probably melt if he gave her that look. That dirty, I-want-to-make-you-scream-my-name look.

  The memory popped into her head – Gabriel half-naked and sated in her Singapore hotel bed, complete with devilish look. Eyebrow raised, like he knew all her secrets. At least, he looked as if he’d pin her to the bed until she gave them all up to him. Or vice versa. She’d be happy to pin him down and have her wicked way with him again. But not yet.

  Her heart thudded like a jackhammer as she picked up her clutch bag and coat.

  On slightly shaky legs, she bounced down the narrow stairs with the creaky wooden boards and out into the small entry hall.

  She sucked in a cleansing breath and silently repeated the mantra: Don’t grab the handsome man, don’t grab the handsome man.

  Opening the door with a trembling hand, she stopped stock-still at the chilly blast of the night air and the sight before her. Gabriel. Wearing slim-fitting black jeans and a dark blue T-shirt which could’ve been sprayed onto his broad chest. No jacket, just bare biceps from here to kingdom-come. It was far too cold not to be wearing a jacket, but she suspected he was showing off, for her benefit. It had worked, she couldn’t look away.

  Her slow inspection took in the complete picture, from top to toe. Hair kind of ruffled, the way she liked it, down to black biker-style boots. All the good things in between. Gabriel gone casual, in the most alarmingly attractive way. And he smelled wonderful, like cinnamon and spices with a hint of clean, freshly showered man.

  “Oh.” The breathy sound escaped her lips with a will of its own. Her mouth was hanging open, but her body refused to catch up with her brain’s command to close it.

  “Irish, you look good enough to eat. We could skip dinner and you could grab me a spoon. Or some chocolate body paint.”

  “Stop it, you naughty man. We’re going out on a proper date and you promised to be a gentleman. Where are you taking me? Am I overdressed?”

  Self-consciously smoothing her hands over the red silky dress, she glanced up to find Gabriel’s gaze following the action, staring at her hands passing over her hips. He cleared his throat.

  “You’re fine. I mean, you look stunning. We’re going to a Slammers gig then onto dinner. You’re perfect.”

  His broad smile caused her heart to sputter, it was so full of … what? Pleasure, anticipation, something more? The something more almost did her in.

  “That sounds grand. It’s good to be seeing you again.” I missed you. So she meant to say.

  She avoided his eyes, shrugging on her coat.

  It was then she noticed The Car. It sat by the kerb putting everything around it to shame. It was the fanciest, sleekest piece of machinery the neighbourhood had ever seen. It wasn’t a horrible neighbourhood, but it was an extremely fancy ride. It suited such a ridey man. An Aston Martin? Good Lord. He really was James Bond, or possibly Batman.

  “Is that yours?” She waved vaguely in the direction of the kerb. She could have kicked herself for the idiotic question. Who else would drive a work of art? Nervousness was making her stupid.

  “Actually, not really. It’s a rental, but I’m loving it. Can I take you for a spin, my lady?”

  She giggled, breathless. “You may.”

  Although how she would manage to breathe in the close confines of a sexy beast of a car, sitting right next to a sexy beast of a man, she had no idea.

  Striding towards the car behind Sinead, Gabriel couldn’t help the way his eyes were glued to her hips, swaying in a red dress. She wore a short coat over the top, but it didn’t ruin the effect. Blasted icy English weather. He wished they were in Melbourne, where it was the height of a balmy summer. Her luscious skin would be on full display. Those knee-high black boots weren’t something to wish away – there was a hint of dominatrix about them. Something about that idea made him sweat.

  Letting Sinead take control in the bedroom was definitely something he’d like to explore further. If she ever let him touch her again.

  She was already firmly in control.

  He lost his concentration, stumbling over a crack in the concrete path. He righted himself and focused on the here and now. Jogging ahead, he stopped and opened the passenger door for her, resisting the urge to touch her lower back to usher her into her seat. She was only a few inches away and the tug towards her was almost overwhelming. He breathed in her scent, the floral concoction making his head spin.

  Sinead dropped her gaze, almost shy, except for the way her lips twitched up at the corners. She ducked her head to get into the low-riding car and he had a clear view down the front of her dress. The curves of her upper breasts. A hint of a red lace bra. Counting slowly to ten and looking straight up to the cloudy night sky, he struggled to control his breathing and other parts of his anatomy.

  She giggled. “You can shut the door now, I’m safely seated.”

  Why was she torturing him? She seemed to know exactly what effect she had on him.

  Slamming the door, he stomped around the front of the car and got in the driver’s seat. Once he sank into the leather-upholstered seat and breathed in the authentic new car smell, he regained some semblance of calm.

  He glanced at Sinead, who was staring at her hands in her lap.

  “Let’s hit the road.”

  The drive was silent torture, only broken by the growl of the Aston Martin’s engine as Gabriel let it rip on the main road heading into the city. Sinead’s skin tingled and heated. She’d underestimated how hard it would be to sit so close without touching him. Her hands clutched at the skirt of her dress.

  She’d somehow forgotten his magnetic pull and the way his presence filled every space he was in.

  Several times she found herself staring at his long legs and powerful thigh muscles encased in black denim. Then his hand would shift on the gearstick and she watched the play of muscles and tendons in his forearms. The man looked so fine it was doing all sorts of disturbing things to her self-control.

  She wasn’t second-guessing her self-inflicted rules, but third- and fourth-guessing. Gabriel pulled up near a busy corner. They were somewhere in Covent Garden, outside an old, serious-looking building made from blocks of stone. He switched off the engine and placed both of his large hands on his knees.

  She nodded towards the building. “What is this place? Aren’t we going to see a band?”

  “We are. It’s the Hospital Club and we’re headed up to The Oak Room.”

  Wow. She’d heard of the club, since some of her favourite bands had performed private shows there and recorded in the studios. She’d never imagined she’d go to a gig at a place like this. Obviously Gabriel had access to places she’d only ever dreamed of going, and he wanted to take her along for the ride. So he was showing off a little. But it was kind of a thrill.

  Sinead schooled her features into her serious face and nodded. “I’m suitably impressed.”

  Gabriel’s expression brightened, then he shrugged. “I’m glad I managed to impress you.”

  She and Gabriel both seemed aware of the awkward, heavy silence blanketing them. He leaned towards her. She held her breath and her gaze dropped to his mouth. Then he let out a rough breath, falling back into his seat.

  Sinead closed her eyes for a moment. He’d been about to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her. The ache deep in her belly had nothi
ng to do with food. It was all about a deeper, more primal hunger. How on earth would she get through the whole evening without flinging herself at him?

  The car door clicked and her eyes blinked open. He bent and ducked his head to get out of the car. She didn’t look too closely at his tight arse in those jeans. No, she barely noticed it at all. The roundness or the firmness.

  He was at her door. Like a perfect gentleman, he opened it for her and stood back, shrugging on a black blazer. Swivelling her legs to the side, she tried to lever herself out of the low seat with some kind of dignity. She wasn’t winning the battle. Snagging her high heel on the rim of the car door, she half-fell towards the gutter before grabbing the door’s inner armrest for balance.

  Gabriel suddenly stepped forward and tugged her upward by her free hand. The feel of his rough-hewn hand enveloping hers was too much. His skin rasping against hers, too intoxicating. Exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Her stomach flip-flopped and she tried to tug her hand away.

  “No. Now I’ve got hold of your hand, I’m not letting you go.”

  He bumped the car door closed and handed his keys to a waiting parking valet. She supposed there was a VIP parking garage nearby. Part of his rich-man world she knew little about. Gabriel exchanged words with the young man, but she heard none of it. Her brain was fixated on Gabriel’s hand grasping hers. Such a simple touch, but it shook her senses.

  She shivered and fought the cold by clenching her teeth to stop them chattering. His skin was so warm, she welcomed his heat seeping into her own skin.

  When his gaze locked on her, he searched her face. That muscle twitched in the corner of his jaw. Somehow she knew if she pulled away again, it would feel like a rejection to him. It would be important.

  She lifted her chin and caught his eyes. “It’s okay. Let’s relax the rules a little.”

  She loved the way his eyes lit from within. His lips quirked up at the corners as if he was laughing at a private joke. He probably was, laughing at her rules or the way she was already bending them. Never mind, the evening was going so well it would be a shame to ruin it by being stubborn.

  He kept his grip on her hand as they entered the lounge bar outside The Oak Room. He wouldn’t let her get away. There would be no escaping his clutches. He’d play the role of the super-villain if necessary. Chuckling, he ushered Sinead through the mingling crowd towards the bar.

  The cool factor at this club was off the charts. It wasn’t the kind of place he usually hung out. But he wanted to impress Sinead, like a lovesick teenager.

  Not keeping up with celebrity gossip of the English tabloid variety, he wouldn’t know who was hot or not. But the slim woman with the short black hair and even shorter silver mini dress was getting plenty of attention. She could be a soap-opera star. But he wasn’t interested in anyone except the woman at his side.

  Plenty of men were interested, checking out Sinead as they walked through the lounge. He didn’t think they were only wondering if she was the new ‘it girl’ around town. She was simply stunning. A primal male surge of pride roared through his body at the knowledge she was his. Technically she wasn’t his yet, but he wanted her to be. He was working on it.

  “You okay?” He wanted to check in with her. And look at her some more. She’d done something to her hair so it flowed around her shoulders in soft waves. He itched to touch it. But he’d make do with holding her hand for now. It was a start.

  She bounced on her high heels. “I’m great. This place is incredible. I can’t wait for the show. Oh my God, is that Sadie Frost? I love her dress!”

  His lips stretched out in a smile, then he shook his head. “Er, not sure. Glad you’re enjoying yourself though. Let’s get a drink.”

  London’s trendy nightspots often made him uncomfortable, when interior designers went mad with untouchable surfaces and Star-Trek-inspired chairs. You were scared to sit down. But this club was warm and inviting, with oak wood panelling, low coffee tables and long soft sofas in yellows and greens. It wasn’t a huge space. The fifty or so people chatting and hanging around added a buzz of excitement.

  He led Sinead to the bar, still grasping her hand, enjoying the soft touch of her skin. It seemed somehow forbidden, which was working for him in a big way. She wrapped her fingers through his.

  “So, what would you like to drink?”

  She wagged her finger. “No Singapore Slings. They make me behave like a wanton woman. Champagne?”

  “I rather liked the wanton woman, but champagne’s good. I could do without another migraine.”

  Ordering the drinks, he leaned across the polished wooden bar but didn’t let go of Sinead’s hand, not for a second. She stood so close. Close enough for him to be constantly aware of her scent and the hum of anticipation vibrating through his body.

  The barman placed two crystal champagne flutes on the bar in front of them and the sparkling liquid in the glasses reminded him of Sinead. Golden, bubbly, even magical. His head was spinning from her nearness before he’d even taken a sip. He passed her a glass, their joined hands falling near her hip.

  “To you and me, the rules, and possible negotiation.” He raised an eyebrow and his glass, daring her to contradict his toast.

  “To you and me, the rules and possibly some wiggle-room. I wouldn’t presume to negotiate with you, Mr Big Time Businessman.”

  A laugh rose from his throat as he clinked his glass against hers. “You can be surprisingly persuasive. Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  He sipped his drink, then before he had a chance to say anything more, he was accosted from behind. A long, thin arm snaked around his waist and he could feel a female body pressed against his back. But it wasn’t a snake he pictured in his mind whenever this woman appeared, it was always a big cat. It wasn’t only the name, more her predatory nature and superior attitude.

  He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. He turned to face her. “Kitty, you’re here.”

  Kitty preened her dark shiny hair. It didn’t move. Her forehead didn’t move when she smiled either, or grimaced. Her black dress was tight, with an expensive designer-ish look. Nothing about Kitty attracted him, in fact she made him want to go wash his hands.

  Glancing at Sinead, he caught the pinched line of her mouth. Not good. He needed to nip this in the bud.

  A high-pitched voice grated in his ear. “Gabriel, darling, so good to see you.”

  Kitty planted a sloppy kiss right on his neck. He could’ve throttled her. If he didn’t need her business contacts in London’s high-society set, he’d be tempted.

  Grumbling under his breath, he watched Sinead as he spoke. “Kitty, a little distance please.”

  Thankfully, Kitty dropped her arm and stepped to his side. Still too close, but better.

  “This is Sinead, the one I told you about on the phone. Thanks for organising the tickets. We’re looking forward to the show.”

  Kitty’s gaze ran up and down Sinead’s body. He wanted to wrap Sinead in his arms and drag her away, but he settled for squeezing her fingers tighter.

  The other woman practically purred. “My pleasure, anything for you. So this is the girlfriend. Will wonders never cease?”

  His spine stiffened. Catching Kitty’s eyes, he stared her down. “Yes, Sinead’s my girlfriend. I’ll see you at our meeting next week.”

  The unsubtle hint for Kitty to leave hung in the air. Sinead was silent. Then she dropped his hand. No bloody way.

  Sinead stretched out her hand to Kitty, inviting her to shake. “It was nice to meet you, Kitty. Any friend of Gabriel’s is a friend of mine.”

  He let out a staggered breath. Sinead was dealing with the situation graciously.

  Kitty looked at Sinead’s outstretched hand for a few moments longer than was polite, before shaking it briefly and slinking away into the crowd. Disaster averted, for now.

  Sinead stared at Gabriel, as a host of strange reactions washed through her. Heat pulsed in her temples, and a s
ick roll lurched through her belly. Defiance made her stand taller. What should she make of the last few minutes?

  Kitty was everything Sinead was not, from her posh upper-class accent to her perfectly coiffed brunette hair, little black dress, pearls and even a bloody Gucci handbag. A stereotypical London socialite like a cardboard cut-out fashion dolly.

  Kitty must be an ex of Gabriel’s, not that he went in for relationships. More likely just a sex thing, a hook-up. Her belly pitched and rolled again. The woman was too confident and brazen with Gabriel, rubbing up against him like an alley cat. Sinead could hardly come to any other conclusion.

  But Gabriel called Sinead his girlfriend, right in front of Kitty, which kept her from lashing out at the pair of them. She’d liked it a tad too much. Her heart contracted. No need to get too excited. They’d known each other such a short time.

  Still, the vulnerable side of her soul was crying out for reassurance. She took a cleansing breath and put it all out there.

  “So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Before you ask, she’s a business contact. An events manager.”

  She nodded. “Okay then.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “Don’t you have more questions? I know she’s … inappropriate.” Gabriel looked so uncomfortable, staring down at his boots, she was almost sorry for him. Almost.

  Her hand rose in a stop-sign motion. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want all the gory details.”

  He glanced up again. His forehead was all creased. “Honestly, there aren’t any details. She comes onto me, I tell her to back off. That’s it.”

  Sinead’s relief had her shoulders relaxing. Reaching across the few inches of space between them, she took his hand again and entwined their fingers. Gabriel rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and her pulse raced.

  She fixed her gaze on their joined hands. “I believe you. But I know there’ll be others, so I need to deal with it.”

  “Others?”

  “Other women who want you. I can’t fight them all, so I’ll have to put up with them.”

  “I won’t cheat on you. I don’t want anyone else.”