by Candi Wall
“We have company?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched.
She nodded and he jerked her close, aligning her body with every, trim, hot portion of his. She could even feel the line of his cock against her hip. Stomping down the delicious stab of awareness in her belly, she forced herself to concentrate. “You had a vulture getting too close, and if I’m going to keep you for the night, I figure I better protect what’s mine.”
He looked down to meet her gaze. “This night sounds better and better every minute.”
Chapter Two
Ian shifted so her hip wasn’t rubbing against his cock and sucked in a deep breath. Fuck. Elizabeth was a treat he hadn’t seen coming. He’d been dreading this fundraiser for months. Hell, who was he kidding? He’d been dreading anything business for months. And he wasn’t even going to think of the hate tank his social calendar had become. A hermit lifestyle had looked real good, until now.
It felt damn good to be responding sexually to another human being. The last thing he wanted to do was scare this beauty off by poking her with a severely neglected boner. That would be nothing but classy.
Elizabeth made him feel good in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Her easygoing nature and roll-with-life attitude were so refreshing he felt weak with relief. Everything about her screamed low maintenance, no drama. After constantly having to be careful about how he acted, what he said, who he was near, he’d been ready to run away. The pressure had become a severe strain on his psyche.
Elizabeth was a rarity, and by all accounts so far, she was willing to play his game, his way, in exchange for pennies. Damn right he’d keep her attention. Hell, if he could figure a way to convince her, he’d have her at his side for the next two months of hellacious travel and parties ahead.
“So.” Flattery and promises wouldn’t work on Elizabeth. “Not only are you my media coverage for the night, but now you’re running interference for me? I’m going to owe you big.”
“Indeed.” She smiled hugely. “That makes you my bitch.”
Ian laughed until she chuckled along. He couldn’t help it. Swinging her around the dance floor, he kept her as close as she’d allow. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be right now. Hell, being your bitch sounds like heaven compared to the bullshit and drama I’m surrounded by from every direction.”
She tipped her head, her eyes bright. “Sounds like you need to go back to down-home roots and starry nights.”
“Go back?” he repeated. “Never been there. I grew up in Detroit. From there it was traveling the world from one fancy event to another. I’d have no idea where to start with homegrown anything.”
“We’re polar opposites,” she stated with surprise. “I’ve only left Texas once, and I’ve never been outside the US. Texas is all I’ve ever known.”
“Uncertainty is all I’ve ever experienced.” He hadn’t meant to admit it, but there it was. Heavy baggage alert.
Her fingers clutched at his arm, her gaze so sad it reached right into his chest and squeezed. “Everyone should know the simplest form of being. Everyone should have sprawled out underneath the stars and forgotten to do anything but breathe. If you tell me you haven’t, I might cry.”
Her description was so alien, Ian struggled to imagine that kind of stillness.
The song ended and the M.C. announced that dinner would begin. Ian hooked her arm through his to guide her off the dance floor.
“Looks like we both have a lot to teach each other about life.” He led her to his table and pulled out a chair. “Don’t disappear on me. I have to make a speech, and then I want to talk business with you. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He could see her confusion, but he didn’t have time to explain. “I think we can help each other.”
Liz listened to Ian speak and sighed. He knew how to work a crowd as easily as he handled individuals. He was funny and engaging, and when he spoke about helping the desolate and needy, well she was sure she wasn’t the only woman wanting to rock his world just to show him how awesome he was.
She shook herself from that thought. Ian was an amazing distraction, but she was there with a purpose. Cash Dillon’s interview. So far, she hadn’t seen him. Which sucked. Beyond her instant attraction to Ian, tonight was a scoop interview bust.
“If he finds out you’re a reporter, you’ll be out on your ass in seconds.” Liz turned to find the woman in the red dress staring down at her. She was tall and elegant and drop-dead gorgeous. Model material all the way. Her escort was a brute of a man, and ruggedly handsome. Best of all was his kind smile. Liz liked his odd juxtaposition of cowboy hat and tuxedo. He pulled out a chair for the red lady before taking a seat.
Liz sighed. She’d better get used to the cream of the crop making her feel frumpy and inadequate if she was going to report from beauty land.
“He already knows I am.” Liz didn’t usually take the defensive, but Red’s sneer set her teeth on edge. “He knew that when he asked me to come tonight.”
“Ian asked you to come?”
Liz couldn’t help finding Red’s shock a bit satisfying. They hadn’t settled on a story, and she could be making a colossal mistake, still she couldn’t keep her tongue behind her teeth. “Yes. He did. We met at a therapeutic ranch and he asked me to join him tonight. He mentioned something about being surrounded by fake people.”
Red’s face puckered up like a cat licking a lemon, but her companion laughed, loudly. Before either of them could respond, Ian joined them at the table. He slid in next to Liz and looped an arm over her shoulder. “Ah, you’ve met Chloe and Nick?”
“Not exactly,” Liz snapped.
Ian waved to a passing server. “Bottle of your best champagne, please. We’re celebrating.”
“We are?” Liz and Red—er, Chloe—responded at the same time. Liz shot the woman a hard glance and continued. “What are we celebrating?”
Ian sat back in his seat. “I haven’t enjoyed someone’s company since Jimmy left me. If I can have fun after losing him, my dear Elizabeth, I’ll do anything to keep you around for a while.”
“Jimmy?” she choked.
“My ex,” he clarified, completely missing her shock. “He decided to go back to Doctors Without Borders. God love him for his cause, but he left everything and everyone drifting in his wake. Including me.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Liz could manage to say. He was gay. Huh. She hadn’t seen that one coming. As much of a shock as it was, she chalked it up to a win. Now she could enjoy the evening without having to worry about any sexual advances. Oh, who was she kidding? He was so handsome and fun she’d wanted him about two minutes into knowing him.
Damn it.
A server appeared and filled their glasses with champagne. Liz took a long swallow.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not anymore,” he said easily. “I plan to convince you to take the next month or so and fly around the world with me. I know what you want, and if you agree to be my friend, my date, my girl for the press to see, I’ll not only get you an exclusive with Cash Dillon, but I’ll give you an exclusive on me.”
Liz tried to process the information. It was too much. “For the next month or so?”
He nodded. “Dates set in Milan, Tokyo, Berlin, Delhi, and my hometown of New York, to name the majors.”
Ignoring their table guests, Liz focused on handsome, homosexual Ian currently offering her the world. “And you want me to go with you?”
“It’s perfect.” His eyes gleamed. “We’re two of a kind from different worlds. You need a story from one of my friends and I need a companion to keep the press at bay. Win-win.”
Liz swallowed hard. It was an opportunity of a lifetime. One she couldn’t afford.
“You’re serious?” Chloe jumped in suddenly, her perfectly plucked eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “You don’t even know her. And since when did you start asking st
range women from scummy ranches to benefit events? This could have been a P.R. nightmare for you.”
“Ranches?” Ian glanced at Liz, a question in his amber eyes. She shrugged apologetically, and after a second, his expression relaxed. “Got it. Got it. Looks like this story got off on the wrong foot.”
Liz didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t Ian launching into an embarrassingly detailed rundown of how they’d met. She crossed her arms over her chest as Chloe and her cowboy laughed at her expense. “My ass was not in the air, New York.”
“If that’s a nickname, it almost sounds derogatory.” Ian’s smile wasn’t at all insulted.
“It is right now,” she remarked as blandly as possible.
Chloe shook her head and surprised Liz by patting her hand, her smile suddenly ultra friendly. It was such a drastic change, Liz didn’t know what to think. “It all makes sense now. Ian’s a snob. He likes fancy things and expensive clothes, but he likes his friends easy and fun. You fit that criteria.”
“And she’s honest,” Ian added.
“Texans usually are,” Nick piped in.
“Wait a minute.” Liz’s head was spinning. “Now suddenly we’re all friends?”
“They’re a bit protective of me,” Ian explained.
“Had to make sure you weren’t after his money or his story,” Chloe stated. “And I think what Ian proposed is an awesome idea.”
“Glad you all think so,” Liz said, hating to burst anyone’s bubble. “Don’t get me wrong, it sounds amazing, but the Gazette will never go for it.”
Ian pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your boss’s number?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Understatement of the year, much? Albert wouldn’t take kindly to someone he didn’t know calling. Especially someone—not Texan. “My boss is a little odd.”
Ian shrugged. “If he runs a paper, he’s into news no matter how he can get it. Number?”
Liz shook her head. “No way.”
“Chicken,” he teased. “I would have pegged you for a risk-taker. Willing to dare or try just about anything.”
Knowing he wasn’t into her in a sexual way made it really difficult to figure out the sultry challenge in his gaze. Twenty minutes ago, she would have seen this conversation as mental foreplay. Before she could think of a way to respond, Chloe rattled off a number that sounded suspiciously like Albert’s, and Ian dialed.
She glanced at Chloe, but the woman just shrugged. “I’m connected.”
Grabbing her champagne glass, Liz drained the contents. In seconds, it was full again. She didn’t even see the server since she couldn’t look away from Ian’s smile. He raised his own glass and winked as he introduced himself to her boss. She tried to listen in, but the noise around them was too much. Not that it mattered, since whatever Ian told him took less than three minutes.
“Better call your mama, cowgirl. You won’t be home for dinner.” He sat down in the chair next to her and leaned in to clink their glasses together. “You’re all mine so long as I return you with a story.”
Chapter Three
Okay. She’d been on planes before. But this was an airborne Rolls-Royce. The passenger cabin had eight massive chairs. If she had to guess, the leather was expensive. A soft carpet padded each step she took, and dim track lighting lined the floor. The fact that they were the only two passengers on board and they had four impeccably dressed servants spoke louder than the opulence surrounding her.
She turned to look at Ian. “Whose plane is this?”
“Mine.” He guided her forward, his hand at the base of her spine. “I’m independently wealthy. Don’t tell anyone.”
She shook her head as he guided her into a seat. “I won’t. I swear.”
Ian dropped into the seat facing her. “I was kidding. Trust me when I say the fashion world knows all and sees all, and anything it doesn’t know, it digs for. My money is old money. There’s no hiding that.”
She sat down and settled back in the chair. The leather engulfed her and she burrowed into the soft material. They could lie back, kick out footrests and still not be in each other’s space. She instinctively ignored the money topic. If he chose to give her his story in the end, then she’d take notes. For now, she was going to enjoy the moment. “Oh, heaven. A girl could get used to this.”
“You’d better,” he said easily. “This will be your home for the next month.”
“Mr. Malcolm,” one of the attendants interrupted politely. “We’ll be taking off in ten minutes.”
“Wonderful.” Ian hit a button that made his chair slide back to full recline. “Can I interest you in a glass of wine?”
“I’d love one,” she admitted. “But I warn you, I don’t drink often. Between alcohol and these divine chairs, I’ll be asleep in no time.”
“That’s fine. It’s a long flight.” Ian smiled at the attendant. “Since we are going to Italy, we’ll have the 1971 Giuseppe Quintarelli Recioto della Valpolicella Classico I’ve been saving. I called ahead for it to be opened. Tonight is a night to celebrate.”
The attendant smiled and hurried away.
“You paid almost a thousand dollars for that vinegar you call wine.”
Liz turned at the deep, gravelly voice. A man approached from the rear of the plane, his gait rigid and almost militarily erect. He was built and rugged and imposing. Everything from his hair, eyes and presence screamed dark. He ate the space around them like a black hole. What hit her hardest was his intense stare. She got the feeling he didn’t like her. Looking away quickly, she snuggled into her seat.
“Quit scaring my guest, Cain,” Ian snapped. “Pick on someone your own size.”
“I commented on wine. What the hell?” Cain relaxed a bit, and she could almost see a ghost of a smile starting.
An attendant appeared at her shoulder and poured two glasses of deep red wine from an elegant decanter. She handed one glass to Liz. “Here you are, miss.”
Liz thanked the woman quietly, enthralled by the men’s conversation. “Dueling Banjos” kind of just popped into her head.
“It was your expression,” Ian barked. “Save it for the actual threats in my life, not sweet little Southern gals like Elizabeth. I hardly think she’s a challenge for your superior bodyguard skills.”
While Liz appreciated his protection, if this man was going to be around for any amount of time, she’d have to learn to deal with him. “It’s fine, Ian. He doesn’t scare me.”
Cain shot her a dark look. “It’s my job to protect my friend. So long as you don’t have ulterior motives, there won’t be any reason you should be scared of me.”
Liz understood. He was doing his job. She could respect that. “No worries. I’m just along for the ride.”
He nodded and turned to Ian. “Her passport is up to date and I gave her mom all the cell phone numbers and a detailed schedule of events. She even has links and dates so she can watch her daughter on TV. The jet has been checked and we’ll meet security when we land. Anything I need to know?”
“No.” Ian winked at her and sipped his wine. “Did you get laid while we were in Texas?”
“Several times,” Cain stated blandly.
Ian shot her a devilish look. “Must not have been great since you’re still grumpy.”
“If you offer your personal services again, I’m gonna kick your ass.” Cain took a slow breath and looked at her. “You have no idea what you got yourself into, do you?”
Liz took a sip of her wine. The taste exploded on her tongue, rich with plum and earthier flavors. She wasn’t a wine, or man, connoisseur by any stretch, but the wine and the hot male company were like nothing she’d ever experienced. Their banter was as intoxicating as the liquor. Raising her glass to Cain, she smiled. “Thank you for convincing my mom to relax, and yes, I’m getting the impression I’ve sipped m
ore than I can swallow.”
“Smart girl. Enjoy every hundred-dollar sip. You’re going to earn it putting up with his ass for a month.”
The math had escaped her when the men were going at it; now the reality of Cain’s statement hit. She swallowed the wine and glanced at Ian. “Do you realize how many hungry mouths this could feed?”
Ian nodded. “My philanthropic donations help me sleep at night.”
“Every case and cause,” Cain scoffed. He headed toward the rear of the jet again and called over his shoulder. “I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep while we’re in the air.”
“Sleep well, my friend.”
Then they were alone. Liz took another sip and settled back into her chair.
“He’s kinda got a dark-and-tortured thing going on, doesn’t he?” she asked.
Ian shrugged. “He’s a great friend, but that stick has always been up his ass. Even when we were teens. I don’t think he knows how to relax. Actually, when we’re in the air is the only time I see him lighten up. He hangs in the employee area and sleeps.”
The pilot announced their departure then, and in minutes they were gliding into the air in the smoothest takeoff she’d ever experienced. Not that she’d had much to compare it to. Ian was watching her, his expression confused. Takeoffs scared the shit out of her. For all she knew, he’d been talking to her the whole time.
To hide her nervousness, she forced a smile. “Don’t laugh, but this is only the third time I’ve been on a plane.”
“You’re kidding.” His eyes were wide, disbelieving.
“No.” She gripped the armrest as the jet leveled off. “I was eighteen and I went to check out a couple colleges. I had a two-hour flight that wasn’t horrible, but my second flight was on a plane the size of a crop duster.”
“The smaller planes are tough rides.”
“Ya think?” She tried to relax. Talking helped. “I spent every second of the twenty-minute flight with my head between my legs ready to kiss my ass goodbye. Cross my heart. Never flown since.”
