“Harper—which is a brilliant name, by the way.”
“Thanks. I don’t even remember yours.”
“Niven. However, most people call me Saint.”
“Because you’re so nice?”
I laughed. “On the contrary. Nice is not a word typically used to describe me. My last name is St. Thomas.”
“Well, you’ve been very nice to me, and I appreciate it. In thanks, I promise to leave you alone for the rest of the flight.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Pardon?”
“If you want to thank me, you’ll do me the honor of allowing me to get to know you better, Miss…”
“Godfrey. Harper Godfrey. Although if my day had gone as planned, I would now be Mrs. David Lipscomb.”
“Lipscomb over Godfrey? I’d say you dodged a bullet in the last-name department. So, what happened that you are traveling alone?”
She took a very long drink, almost emptying her glass, then shrugged. “He decided he didn’t want to marry me.”
“His profound loss.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Something about her downcast eyes and soft voice sent a surge of desire straight to my knob. Surely, this woman would bend to my will in a way no others had as of late.
“Why do I sense you were about to say ‘but’?”
She smiled. “Maybe I’m the one who has suffered the profound loss.”
“Absolutely not. You, Harper, deserve to be with a man who will hold you in the highest regard, love you endlessly, and make it his life’s mission to do everything in his power to keep this lovely smile on your face.” I was tempted to reach out and stroke my finger over her dimples.
So much for curbing my carnal reactions.
3
Harper
If there was any doubt in my mind as to whether I should’ve gotten on this plane, it was gone. The über sexy man sitting beside me was exactly what my ego needed after my morning’s humiliation.
I’d carry the words he’d just spoken with me throughout what was supposed to be my honeymoon and probably long after I returned home.
He’d said I deserved to have a man hold me in the highest regard and to love me endlessly. I did deserve that. Dave clearly didn’t feel either sentiment. Saint was also right about me dodging a bullet. Why would I want to spend my life with a man who would never make it his mission to keep a smile on my face?
“You’re contemplating what I’ve just said to you.”
“I am.”
“And?”
“You’re right.”
“That was too easy.”
“I’m not going to lie and say what he did doesn’t hurt. It does. But is it more about the embarrassment I felt, or is it the pain of not having him in my life?”
“I’d say if you’re asking that question, you already know the answer. How did you meet this…What did you say his name was?”
“My best friend calls him Douchey Dave.”
Saint laughed out loud. “Douchey Dave. Brilliant. So, again, how did you meet?”
“In college.”
“Where’d you go to university?”
“Belmont. It’s in Nashville.”
“Are you from Nashville? You don’t have a Southern accent.”
I shook my head. “DC.”
“Ah.”
There was something about the way he said the single-syllable word that seemed off. “Not your favorite place?”
He took a drink and gave a half smile. “Scene of my latest transgression. Tell me more about Nashville. Why there?”
His abrupt change of subject wasn’t lost on me. “It was more about the university than where it was located.”
“I recall Lipscomb having some connection to the city, although I have no idea what or why.”
“Lipscomb University. Dave’s third-great-grandfather founded it.”
“That’s where the douche went, then?”
I laughed at his use of Mouse’s nickname for him and shook my head again. “He went to Belmont too. Lipscomb isn’t at the same level.”
“What was your major?”
I could feel my cheeks heat. When I told him, our conversation would probably come to an end. “Christian Leadership.”
“Oh. Wow.”
I looked out the plane’s window. “That’s most people’s reaction.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Right,” I murmured, too embarrassed to face him.
“Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“Please look at me.”
I slowly turned my head.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Okay.”
“I find it as fascinating as everything else I’ve learned about you thus far.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Yep, that’s what they say about me. Utterly fascinating.”
Saint’s brow furrowed. “Why the self-deprecation rather than simply saying thank you?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you.”
“Do you currently hold a job in Christian leadership?”
“No.”
“May I ask why not?”
The truth was I’d become disillusioned with what I learned was the business of the church. Megachurches seemed to be everywhere, and they employed several ministers, each with their own specialty. Instead, I’d decided to go back to school, once Dave and I were married, and pursue a different degree. He’d been all for it. At least that was what he’d said. I wondered now if that was part of his reason for not wanting to marry me. Maybe he wanted a wife who worked and could help support the household. Or someone who was ready to start a family. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I see.”
“In fact, I’d rather not talk about me at all anymore. I’m sure you’re far more interesting. If you’re willing to tell me anything about yourself.”
“I will do as soon as I’ve gotten us both a refill.” He stood, but then sat back down. “On second thought, it appears they’re about to serve dinner. A glass of wine might be a better idea.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker, which he’d probably already realized. And wine? Yuck. “I think I’ll stick with water.”
“Our choices are chicken, beef, or seafood. Which sounds best?”
I picked up the same menu card he held and read the descriptions for each. They all sounded so much better than I thought airline food would be. “Chicken?”
“Are you asking?”
I shrugged and he smiled.
“I’m enjoying you, Miss Godfrey.”
“You’re easily amused.”
“Not at all, actually.”
Saint convinced me to try a glass of Chardonnay with dinner, and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. He also offered me a taste of the salmon he’d ordered. When I told him I wasn’t a big fish eater, he pressed me to take a bite, and that too, I had to admit, was fabulous.
He’d managed to keep the conversation all about me and nothing about him, but I was determined to switch things around.
“You mentioned DC was the scene of your latest ‘transgression.’”
“You picked up on that, did you?”
I smiled, nodded, and took a bite of strawberry-covered cheesecake.
He folded his napkin, set it on the edge of his tray, and rested his head against his seat. “While many call me Saint, I can assure you I am anything but.”
I kept my eyes on him and took another bite of cheesecake.
“You’re an imp.”
I shrugged a shoulder but maintained my gaze.
“Very well. Here goes.”
I sat back in my seat and turned so my body was facing his.
“I am a bit of a rake, as they say.”
Man slut was on the tip of my tongue to suggest, but given he was struggling with explaining his earlier comment, I kept quiet.
“One would think that one’s personal life should be kept separate from
their professional life, but given what I do, that hasn’t been the case.”
My mind raced with what it could be. Was his “wow” comment because he himself was with the clergy?
“What do you do?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“I was, formerly now, with SIS,” he said in a quieter voice than he’d used to this point.
“SIS?”
He leaned closer and whispered, “Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“That’s most people’s reaction,” he said with a wink.
“Why is what you do off the job anyone’s business?”
“My initial thoughts precisely. However, an email I received before our flight took off implies otherwise.”
“Is that why you said, ‘bugger me’?”
He chuckled. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
“You are right next to me.”
“The email I received was from my uncle, who has been newly appointed the UK’s foreign secretary. In other words, the man my former boss’ boss reports to.”
“What did your uncle’s email say?”
“He suggested that if I was willing to ‘change my ways,’ he might be able to pull some strings and arrange for me to be reinstated.”
That sounded promising to me, and I said so.
“The thing is, since I was sacked, I’ve been working on doing just as he suggested.”
“Was your transgression the reason you lost your job?”
He shook his head. “No, that happened weeks ago. Botched mission, as they say.”
“What did you do, anyway? In DC, I mean.”
“Let’s just say that if you attend a work party and get pissed, err…drunk…make sure the woman you invite up to your room isn’t the assistant of a high-ranking intelligence officer—one with the ability to sway my uncle’s opinion about my worthiness.”
“Surely, your uncle wouldn’t have suggested being able to pull strings if he knew.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I fear it’s only a matter of time.”
“What do you think ‘change your ways’ means?”
“A personality transplant.”
I smiled and put my hand on his arm. “What do you think it actually means?”
His eyes scrunched. “I suppose it means it’s time to grow up.”
4
Saint
Thoughts of this nature would typically turn me surly. And conversations were entirely out of the question. Except with two people. The first was Emerson, whom Harper almost immediately reminded me of.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about them I found similar. Maybe an underlying quirkiness. Or perhaps it was how easy it was to talk to either of them. I knew so little about my flight companion, yet I found I wanted to tell her things about myself I’d never told anyone.
“I think you would do quite well in the field of Christian leadership.”
Her eyes opened wider. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re quite easy to converse with.”
Harper laughed. “You’ve told me one thing about yourself for every ten I’ve told you.”
“But I find myself wanting to tell you more.”
“Thank goodness.”
This time I laughed. “Why?”
“I am literally the most boring person on this plane.”
“No. You’re absolutely not.”
“Who else have you talked to?”
“Plain Jane, for one.”
She cocked her head, and I motioned with mine.
“She’s hardly plain,” said Harper, eyeing the flight attendant who’d all but ignored her.
“You have more personality in your smallest finger than she possesses.”
“She’s very pretty.”
“How would you know with all the batter?”
When Harper cocked her head again, I made a circular motion around my face.
“Oh. The makeup. Well, she does have a lot on.”
“Whereas you aren’t wearing any.”
“I have a good reason.”
I sighed. I’d stuck my foot in it. I had noticed her eyes fill with tears on at least one occasion. “Right. My apologies.”
I looked from her deep brown eyes to the dimples that appeared when she gave even the slightest grin. Her long, wavy brown hair had been down when I first sat next to her. At some point, she’d put it up in a messy knot on top of her head. Periodically, she’d remove her round tortoiseshell glasses, almost as if to emphasize a point.
While the whole of her face was attractive enough, her features were far from perfect. Her nose was slightly too big, and her teeth were crooked enough that she should have worn braces. Her eyes were set a little too wide apart, and the left was lazy. And yet, if I had to use one word to describe Harper Godfrey, it would be lovely.
It was impossible to guess her age other than I knew she’d graduated from university. Her porcelain skin showed no signs of age, and without makeup, she could easily pass for a teenager.
“How old are you?”
Harper’s eyes opened wide a second time. “How old are you?”
“I’m thirty. Dirty, thirty, old man.”
“Twenty-five. Barely alive.” Her cheeks pinkened. “Meaning, I’ve barely started living.”
“Understood—and appropriate.”
Harper covered her mouth when she yawned and then stretched her arms over her head. Her waist looked small enough for me to almost wrap my hands around. Her arched back pushed her breasts forward in such a way that I couldn’t stop myself from looking, leaving me feeling like a very dirty old man. I found everything about this woman delightful—and captivating.
“Would you please excuse me?” she asked, pointing to the aisle.
“Of course.” I unfastened my seat belt and moved out of her way, surprised when she stood to her full height that she was taller than I’d expected. Maybe five feet seven or eight. She smiled at me over her shoulder as she walked toward the first-class lavatory, catching me checking out her perfectly perky arse.
I took my seat and pulled out my mobile when I saw Jane headed in my direction, hoping she’d take the hint and leave me alone.
I’d forgotten to connect to the plane’s Wi-Fi earlier, did so now, and checked my email. Nothing pressing, and by pressing, I meant no rescinded offers from my uncle.
“Where are you staying in London?” I asked after I stood to allow Harper back into her seat and took mine beside her.
“The Savoy.”
I wriggled my eyebrows. “Swanky.”
“It was to be our honeymoon.”
“Right.” A fact I already found myself wishing to forget. “So, London? I must say it doesn’t seem terribly romantic.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t have much say in it.”
“What?” I shook my head. “Yet another reason to bid good riddance to the dipshit.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t do what I did and go alone.”
It became perfectly clear then why she was on this plane despite her fear of flying. She’d hoped he would show, and then perhaps they’d be reunited.
I was fortunate for more than just the open seat.
For the second time in just a few minutes, Harper covered her mouth and yawned.
“Get some sleep,” I suggested.
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Why would I?”
“Right. Probably looking forward to the reprieve.” She removed her glasses and tucked them into the seat pocket, angled herself so her back was to me, and covered herself with a pashmina.
I leaned close enough that my chest brushed her back. “Sleep well, Miss Godfrey,” I whispered.
Two full hours later, I wished she’d wake up. Honestly, I’d wished that within minutes of her settling in. I’d attempted to sleep as well, to no avail, ordered another drink I’d had little of, and opened a book after making sure there were still no n
ew emails from my uncle. After reading the same paragraph more than once, I closed the cover of my tablet and put it in the seat pocket in front of me.
When I glanced at Harper, like I had repeatedly, she was studying me. “Good rest?” I asked.
“Not really.”
Did that mean she’d be closing her eyes once again, leaving me without her company even longer?
Her eyebrows scrunched. “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re harrumphing.”
I laughed. “Am I?”
She nodded.
“Truth be told, I missed your company.”
She rolled her eyes but put up her pashmina and settled in for a chat.
All too soon, the pilot announced our descent.
5
Harper
While Saint had said he was no longer employed by MI6, he still carried some kind of credential that got us through customs in record time. At least that’s what he’d said. I had no way of knowing how long something like that would normally have taken in a place as busy as Heathrow.
He insisted I allow him to take me to the hotel. An older man drove us, and when we arrived at the Savoy, Saint also insisted on coming in while I checked in. Maybe I was foolish to be so trusting of a man I’d just met, and on a plane no less. But there was something about him that made me feel safe. More, if it came down to it, I innately knew Saint would protect me.
Unlike my experience with customs, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time for the man at the front desk to find me in the system.
“I’m terribly sorry, miss, but I can’t find a reservation for either Godfrey or Lipscomb.”
“I don’t understand. I have a confirmation number.”
He pounded away on the computer keyboard for several more minutes and sighed when Saint, who had excused himself to the gentlemen’s room, returned and inquired about the holdup.
“As I’ve told Miss Lipscomb—”
“Godfrey,” Saint and I said at the same time.
“Right. There is no reservation. From what I can find, it appears it was canceled more than two weeks ago.”
Sainted Page 2
