“Sit down.” She almost refused but thought better of it and sat in a high back wing chair. No need to draw this out with histrionics, she thought rationally. Just get the lecture over so you can get the hell out of here. She fought the urge to stare down at her hands and instead look defiantly at the businessman, anticipating his next words. He did not immediately say anything and to her horror, she found herself beginning to babble before she could stop herself.
“I tried to give them to Tabitha last night but she was talking to the staff so I went to clean up and then Maurice said we were leaving and I would have given them to him but then you and I…” she trailed off, her face reddening to the color of preserved beets. He continued to stare at her, wordlessly, the steel of his eyes cutting into her. She finally she could no longer hold his gaze and looked away.
“When is your birthday?” She looked back up at him, incredulously, certain she had heard him incorrectly.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your birthday. Are you a Cancer?” Stunned, she nodded.
“June 23rd,” she replied. “How did you know?”
He shrugged and rose from behind the desk. Despite the seriousness of her circumstances, Cara felt a rush of attraction staring at his limber physique and broad shoulders. She fleetingly wished she could have one more night with him before this ended, thinking of how sexually stimulated she had become under him, atop that cold, metal table. Again, she was ashamed by her thoughts and tried to listen to the words coming out of his mouth.
“Do you have a passport?” Cara was beginning to feel like she was actually dreaming because the conversation did not make any sense whatsoever. Still, she nodded, subtly pinching herself under her leg to be sure she was grounded in reality.
“Do you have a passport here in this house?” Once more, she nodded.
“Go get it. And pack a small bag. Two changes of clothing and toiletries.” Cara opened her mouth to ask a million questions but his piercing eyes indicated that the exchange was done. “Meet me back here at five o’clock tonight. Stay in your quarters until then and please don’t talk to anyone.” And then he left her alone in the old fashioned study, confused and suddenly very wary.
The day was as painfully long as the previous night had been. Every thought imaginable played through Cara’s head. Where is he taking me? Is this a punishment? Do I deserve a punishment? Maybe I should demand to know where we’re going. Yes, I am going to demand an explanation. Of course she did not and at five p.m. that evening Cara was standing in the exact same spot, holding a black duffle bag. She had remained in her suite, undisturbed for the entire day but she had fully expected a visit from Tabitha which never materialized. The woman hates me, Cara realized. I have disappointed her.
In the bag were two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts and a hooded sweater. She had tossed a pair of winter boots inside in case the fall weather turned suddenly. She was still wearing her work uniform and when Connor noticed the calf length black skirt and white button down blouse, he frowned slightly.
“You didn’t have enough time to change?” he asked, looking her up and down distastefully. She didn’t know how to answer him so she said nothing.
“Never mind. You can change on the plane.”
The words should have sent a fission of alarm through Cara but for some inexplicable reason, she was very calm. Perhaps it was knowing that Connor Lamoreaux wasn’t actually angry at her and as a result, her job was still intact. She assumed that she was traveling with him on one of his business trips so it made sense that she remained in uniform, lest the media turn the business arrangement into some sort of scandal. Or perhaps it was just her guilty conscious which made her think that way. Cara’s research of Lamoreaux had taught her that he was a stickler for maintaining his privacy. There was no way he would cart some Mexican immigrant’s daughter around without a solid explanation for what she was doing there. Cara cleared her throat and stepped forward, ensuring she had his full attention. He glanced at her as she approached the desk, hands outstretched.
“What is that?” he asked as she gently placed the checks on the wood table before him.
“Two of your guests handed these to me last night and I forgot to give them to Tabitha. I didn’t want them to get lost.” Connor peered at the numbers and then looked back at Cara, a speculative expression on his face and opened his mouth to say something but decided against what he had in his mind. Finally, he simply said, “Thank you” and put the endorsements into the top drawer of his desk. Must be nice to be so flippant about holding three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in your hand, she thought but not with nearly the amount of venom she had felt over the past weeks while in the Lamoreaux employ. Suddenly, her boss didn’t seem like such an ogre. More like the big, bad wolf, Cara thought slyly. Connor rose gracefully, scooping up her bag and she blushed furiously as though he had heard her thoughts.
“You have your passport?” he confirmed. Surprised at his action of taking her bag, Cara nodded and followed his long gait out of the room. He turned to the left and she was confused as the hall ended there but before she could open her mouth, Connor had pushed open a hidden fire door she had never noticed and was climbing up a steep set of stairs. They passed a small doorway on a brief landing but Connor continued up the steps, Cara directly in his wake. The treacherous ascent ended at another fire door and Cara could hear the swoosh of the helicopter blades even before the portal opened. She had not known there was a landing pad on the roof but a white, Sikorsky S-76C was fully charged, awaiting its passengers as they embarked upon the asphalt. The pilot hurried over to them, taking Cara’s bag from Connor and ushering them into the cabin. Cara could not believe her eyes. The helicopter’s interior matched its sleek ivory exterior with posh leather upright seats and a small ivory covered cocktail bar. Two flat screen televisions were mounted on either side of the vessel but both were turned off. Slowly, Cara fastened her seatbelt, sitting across from her boss who seemed to be watching her every move with intrigued intensity.
“Where – where are we going?” she asked, timidly, avoiding his eyes.
“The airport,” he answered simply. Cara sighed inwardly. She suspected that getting answers out of him would be a lot like pulling teeth. She would find out soon enough. Still, amidst the mystery surround the sudden trip, she was remarkably trusting of Connor Lamoreaux which was ridiculous because she knew nothing about the man personally. Except that he has incredible eyes, a fantastic mouth and a dick that I could ride all day. Once more, Cara was absolutely shocked by her uncharacteristically dirty thoughts. She had no idea why she was so aroused by this man but he seemed to have a hypnotic effect on her. She found herself tongue tied in his presence like she was a schoolgirl but thinking back, she never remembered feeling so utterly overwhelmed around Damien during their school days. She played anxiously with her hands and looked about the luxurious cabin, purposely avoiding Connor’s intense gaze. Why didn’t I think to bring a book? Her eyes flittered around the aircraft, hoping to find something to read. When her search did not fructify, she slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes, pretending to rest. She was painfully aware that the man was staring at her still. Moments later, she felt the helicopter descend and she was relieved to see they were arriving at the airport. The chopper landed a few hundred feet away from Lamoreaux’s private jet, a Boeing 737. The pilot of the helicopter hurried out to help them out of the vehicle and escort them to another waiting man outside the plane. Without any exchange, the airplane engineer ushered them into the cabin and quickly closed the door, as if someone was hot on their tails. Once inside the sealed chamber, Cara blinked. It was almost identical to the interior of the helicopter but on a grander scale. The décor was the same ivory and onyx with high leather reclining chairs and four televisions mounted on the walls instead of two. It comfortably sat twelve, four seats in three sections facing one another and a four seater wood table with chairs in the center. A wet bar was set up cozily in a small rounded corne
r and behind it stood a tall, stately woman who reminded Cara of Tabitha for some reason. She was twenty years younger than the housekeeper and she smiled, attentive and nodded in greeting. Upon thinking it, Cara was immediately flooded with guilt. Tabitha! I didn’t even go tell her I was leaving! Lamoreaux had warned her not to speak to anyone before they left but somehow Cara knew that Tabitha was well aware she was long gone and had known she was leaving even before Cara had.
“Are you going to sit down?” Lamoreaux’s voice jolted her even though she had been very aware of his presence. Immediately, she scooted into a seat and buckled her seatbelt as if the plane were taking off from under her feet. She thought she heard him chuckle and she turned her neck to stare at him.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked before she could stop herself. Then she quickly clamped her mouth together and whipped back around in her seat, wishing she could take the words back. Connor laughed definitively this time.
“Are you always so jumpy?” he asked, taking the seat directly across from her. Cara stared at the floor and angrily wondered why Calamander wood was necessary in an aircraft. She knew her surliness had nothing to do with the ridiculously expensive flooring material. It was the affect which Connor Lamoreaux had upon her making her antsy and uncomfortable. He was waiting for a response to his question.
“You make me nervous,” she blurted out, again wondering what was wrong with her. Do you have Tourette’s Syndrome? She yelled internally. Stop talking!
“I make a lot of people nervous,” Connor replied, sitting casually back in his chair, propping an alligator shoe over his black pant leg. “But usually they have just cause to feel that way. Do you have cause to feel nervous, Ms. Castillo?” Cara shook her head quickly but then looked up at him.
“I hope you don’t think I’m just going to sleep with you anytime now because of last night,” she announced, matter-of-factly. As the words left her lips, she could not believe she had actually spoken them. Connor’s face lapsed into a deep scowl and out of the corner of her eye, Cara realized the flight attendant was listening to their conversation. What the hell is wrong with you? Stop talking! Stop talking! Stop talking!
“Did I suggest such a thing?” Connor snapped. “Why would you even say something like that?”
Miserably Cara shook her head, asking herself the same question. She had struck a nerve. If there was one thing that Connor Lamoreaux valued the most, it was his privacy and Cara had just said something completely indiscrete in front of a total stranger. A part of her secretly hope he would ask her to get off the plane. Of course he did not. Sullenly, he flipped on a television and put it onto CNN. He popped on a headset and she knew it wasn’t out of courtesy for her. He was blatantly ignoring her presence. Cara tried to make herself as small as possible, wishing she could disappear. She looked around the cabin for something with which to entertain herself when the handsome attendant tapped her on the shoulder and offered her a glass of champagne. Gratefully and without thinking twice, Cara accepted and downed it in one sip. She noticed that Connor Lamoreaux was watching her out of the corner of his eye.
“Another one, please,” she demanded, defiantly. Well if he’s going to drag me around and ignore me, I’m going to enjoy myself. But Cara had a feeling she was going to regret her decision. The woman nodded and returned with a second crystal goblet.
“We’ll be taking off in a couple of minutes. Your own headset is here with the remote control. You will find movies, music and television shows on the screen,” she informed Cara, pointing the armrest at her side. “My name is Zoe. Let me know if there is anything you need.” As soon as Zoe disappeared to the cockpit, Cara followed Connor’s lead and flicked on the t.v. She found a new release comedy movie she had been interested in seeing and put the seat back, sipping on the bubbly liquid. When Zoe returned a moment later, Cara lowered the headphones.
“How long of a flight is it?” she asked, hearing the jets rev.
“Fourteen hours,” Zoe replied, taking her seat. Gasping, Cara turned to look at her boss. Fourteen hours from here is the ends of the earth! Where is he taking me? Connor Lamoreaux was still watching the television but as Cara looked up, she realized that now he was smiling.
“Can you get me another one?” she asked Zoe, gesturing at the glass.
Chapter Six
Not long after they had taken off, Cara fell asleep. Perhaps it had been in the incredibly long days she had been working or the effect of the alcohol but without even realizing, she was breathing deeply, curled into that too comfortable leather chair. In her dream, she was flying. Not flying in the plane but outside of the jet, arms wide, winding through the clouds like she was a bird, weightless and free. The aircraft was beside her and Connor Lamoreaux was watching her through one of the windows, only the cotton soft clouds between her blazing emerald eyes and his metallic blue ones.
“See? You can do it too!” he told her, his voice as clear as if he were speaking directly into her ear. Enthusiastically, she nodded.
“I can! Wow! I’m doing it!” Connor smiled encouragingly, twirling and spinning. She was so incredibly happy, she felt like a young child, without a care. Suddenly the sky went dark and rain began pelting down on her, knocking her breath out of her body and causing her to slip into the atmosphere.
“You have to come back now,” Connor urged. “It’s time to come back.”
Fear began to envelope Cara.
“I can’t! I don’t know how!”
“Yes, Cara, you do. Come back! Hurry before you fall!”
The rain began to wash at her, weighing her down below the plane. She was losing her grip on the air. She thrust her arms toward the aircraft but it was just out of her reach.
“Help, Connor, help me!”
“I can’t help you! You have to come back by yourself. Cara, hurry!”
Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck her and she was free falling through the air. She was going to die. But somehow the fall was exhilarating, the fear stimulating. Just as she was about to hit the water below, Cara started awake. The cabin was very quiet. Looking outside one of the round windows, Cara realized it was the dead of night. How long had she been asleep? She swallowed heavily to unblock her ears and looked to around. Connor had retired into one of the pods to sleep. She saw that he still had the headphones on his ears. Someone had put a thick, warm blanket over her while she had slept. Cara undid her seatbelt and rose to her feet. Her legs were cramped. She made her way to the bathroom next to the bar. She couldn’t believe that there was a stream shower and double sink in it although why she was surprised she did not know. Splashing some water on her face, she combed her fingers through her dark, now unruly mane of hair and turned back to the cabin. Zoe was there when she returned.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t realize you had woken. Are you hungry? You were asleep so I didn’t want to bother you for dinner.” Cara suddenly found she was ravenous. She nodded at the attendant.
“If it’s not too much trouble…” Zoe quickly nodded and retreated into the galley adjacent to the bar. Cara sat at the table and looked up at the televisions. CNN was still playing silently and she wondered if Connor was dreaming about Wolf Blitzer. He probably doesn’t dream, Cara thought dryly. She had begun to liken her boss to a vampire. He had all the characteristics, sexually magnetic, intense eyes. Cara smiled to herself. Moments later, Zoe appeared carrying a plate covered with a stainless steel lid. She placed it in front of Cara, removing the top and Cara was staring at rack of lamb with rosemary roasted potatoes and mint sauce.
“Is this acceptable, ma’am?” she asked politely. Cara almost laughed.
“It will do just fine,” she replied. “And please stop calling me ma’am. I’m only twenty-five. My name is Cara.”
Zoe nodded pleasantly and retreated to the cockpit once more. Cara knew that she would never use her first name. Sighing, she turned to look amorously at the meal before her. She barely tasted the fall off the bone meat before it melted
on her tongue. It tasted like something Maurice had concocted. She would have to ask him when she got back. Cara gobbled what was before her with gusto. Sated, she sat back and found herself looking longingly at the pod where Connor Lamoreaux slept. She wondered what he would do if she crawled in beside him and pressed herself against his muscular frame. Probably push you onto the floor, Cara thought wryly as she remembered their exchange earlier when she had declared she was not sleeping with him again. He would ask you what kind of game you are playing and throw you out of the plane without a parachute. It was completely unlike Cara to have such a reckless urge. Her logical, proper side was resisting the attraction she felt for Lamoreaux but her loins were fiercely fighting her at every turn. She was incredibly turned on by the billionaire business man and she had no defense against by the magnetism. I’m going back to sleep.
This time her sleep was dreamless and when she woke, she had a slight headache. Pale sunlight was streaming into the plane and Connor was seated at the table, drinking coffee and reading a paper. That day’s paper, Cara recognized as she sat up. How did he manage to get today’s news when we’ve been in flight since yesterday? Then she grinned inwardly. He was Connor Lamoreaux. He could find out the next six presidents of the US if he so desired.
“Would you like some coffee?” Connor interrupted her thoughts. She rose from the seat, her limbs stiff and nodded eagerly. He nodded at Zoe who was standing attentively nearby. She moved forward to pour the hot, black liquid into a standing china mug on the table. Cara slid into a chair facing Lamoreaux and gratefully thanked the attendant before taking a sip of the steaming coffee. It was the most delicious concoction Cara had ever laid her lips upon. Connor looked amused by her awed expression.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 34
