by Robyn Grady
‘Meaning?’
He knew damn well what she meant. ‘Meaning if—’ she corrected herself ‘—when Dad’s well again, I’ll get back on track.’
‘To London.’
Her hands clenched. ‘To somewhere.’
Grabbing a coffee on 42nd Street on her way to work. Visiting the Louvre in Paris, a twenty-minute stroll from her apartment. Running through puddles in the afternoon rain to catch a London bus. Those visions had kept her going, kept her strong, kept her focused.
Don’t you understand? I have to do this.
His gaze roamed her face. Finally he nodded. ‘Need a job in the meantime?’
And risk being close to you?
‘Jonathon’s offered me a position at Mixem’s.’
A vein at David’s temple pulsed. Was he about to thump around like a caveman?
Finally shunting a hand through his hair, he let out a breath. ‘Just promise me you won’t listen to any tracks with him in booth D.’
His smile was lopsided, but the storm in his eyes said he was deadly serious—his territory, his experience, his girl.
‘Jonathon’s fine.’ He wouldn’t make a pass. ‘I think a man knows if he has a chance with a woman.’
David’s expression deepened and she read the message in his eyes. Do I have chance?
Mounting tension finally sparked alight and flared. An air of awareness seemed to settle over them as the questions echoed through her mind.
Does he have a chance? Is it over? Is this the last time we’ll see each other?
As his intensity reached out she leant forward, drawn by his strength, compelled by instinct and heartache so raw, she felt completely empty.
His gaze lowered to trail her mouth, telling her that with a word or a whimper he would crush her in and prove what they’d experienced before was an entrée compared to the banquet he’d share with her now.
A word, some sign, and their affair would begin again.
Would begin…and would end. Nothing had changed. Maybe not this week or next month, but she would go and he would stay. No use hoping he’d wait for her. His pride would be so badly burned, he’d never trust her again. She knew him well enough to be certain of that.
A cramp wrenched deep inside and she had to look away.
God, oh, God, do I really want to give him up? Can I give him up?
David’s crooked finger raised her chin. His brow was smooth, his smile resigned. He’d never looked more handsome. ‘You’re right. A man does know when he has chance.’
The energy drained from her body as he left her to cross the terrace and pick up the handset.
‘Gilbert, Serena’s ready to leave. Have you got her belongings together?’ A pause. ‘I’ll send her on her way.’
With a mountain weighing on her back, she moved to join him. She waited for him to—
What? Shake her hand? Wish her bon voyage?
Nothing more needed to be said.
She swallowed back stinging tears and turned towards the doors.
‘Serena…wait.’
Her step faltered as cool air rushed into her lungs. Pulse tripping over itself, she spun back around.
Will he say it?
He stood before her, a tower, a refuge, the man she loved. But what was the message in his eyes?
She blinked before her gaze dropped to the pool of gold nestled in his outstretched palm.
‘I know how much this means to you,’ he said. ‘I kept it aside so it wouldn’t be misplaced.’ The pendant fell into her hand. ‘Here’s your heart back.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘BOARDING pass, please.’
Serena set her hand luggage down, fished around at the top of her handbag and offered over the pass.
The statuesque stewardess attending the departure gate at Sydney International checked it, smiled, then handed the pass back. ‘Enjoy your flight.’
Well, she’d try her best.
Moving down the enclosed jetway, Serena double checked that the air-sickness pills Jezz had recommended were in the front zipper of her bag. The caution read: ‘May cause drowsiness.’ An enforced sleep could only do her good.
As she re-zipped the compartment her glasses fell off her bowed head to bounce on the carpet at her feet. She swooped on the frames, but another hand beat her to them.
Eyes locked, they straightened at the same time.
The middle-aged man pushed his own frames higher upon his nose. ‘Hey, you don’t want anyone standing on those.’ He placed them in her hand. ‘Glasses can be a pain in the caboose—keeping them clean, wondering where you’ve left them. But if you’re anything like me, you’re bat-blind without them.’
He fell in step beside her.
‘I usually wear contacts.’ But she’d run out of disposables last week and hadn’t bothered getting more. Lately, it was an effort to brush her hair. ‘I haven’t worn these in years. Guess the arms are loose. Probably need a new pair.’
Before she presented the pass to the flight attendant at the doorway, Serena turned to the man and touched the glasses perched on her nose. ‘Thanks for your trouble.’
Halfway down the first aisle, she found her seat. Hand luggage locked away—now she could slip on some flight slippers and retreat into her own shell.
The man appeared again. ‘Hey, looks like we’ll be flight buddies.’ He showed her his pass. They looked at hers. Yep, seats side by side. ‘Don’t suppose you’d give up the window?’ He was short, well-dressed, with a nasally voice and the smell of tea-tree oil.
‘I’d rather not.’ She sidled into her seat. ‘This is my first flight.’
He shuffled in beside her. ‘Excellent!’ He dropped a lozenge on his tongue. ‘Throat infection.’
Serena peered out the window.
‘Hey, so this must be your first trip to Paris?’
Serena’s teeth caught the inside of her lips and she nodded.
‘Staying long?’ he persisted.
‘Only a week.’
‘What?’ She turned to see his jowls working as he sucked. ‘That’s not nearly long enough. I remember my first trip over.’ He rubbed his paunch and chuckled. ‘Met this lady, stunner she was. Took me to the Moulin Rouge and told me she could dance—’
‘My father’s going in for an operation.’ It just came out. Call her precious, but she couldn’t bear to hear about anyone else’s love life, didn’t want to know about someone else’s happiness, when she felt so lost.
‘Operation, huh?’ Suck, suck. ‘Nothing serious, I hope.’
‘We’re hopeful it will be a success. But he needs to recuperate. Maybe go back a second time.’
She gazed out at the grey tarmac absorbing the sunshine and rested her forehead against the window. Homesick already. Homesick for David. She missed him so much.
‘Man, that’s tough.’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man pop another cough drop. ‘Sounds like you’re the one looking after him.’ She nodded at the empty luggage train winding back towards the terminal. ‘So you decided to refuel your engines before settling down to the job?’
Not a job. Her dad had been there for her. Now she’d be there for him. She was only pleased she could be.
‘I didn’t book my flight. My father insisted I have this week away.’ He might drive her nuts with his warnings, but she’d come to understand that his advice was part of his love and thoughtfulness. She was lucky to have had him growing up. And, he would be there in her bright future.
No more doubt monsters. Her father would be fine. She’d have a fabulous time in France, visit the Louvre, stand in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, get on with her life, and soon she’d forget all about…
Her eyes drifted closed as her forehead rolled back and forth against the glass.
Forget…please, forget.
An eternity later, the jet was at cruising altitude. A blanket lay over her lap, a barely read magazine on top of that. Three sickness pills and she needed to take off the glasses to r
ub her gritty eyes.
In the seat alongside, her new friend removed his ear-phones and pushed up out of his seat. ‘I’m off to stretch my legs. Can I bring you back a drink? You don’t want to get dehydrated.’
Her father had told her the same thing. She smiled. ‘A water. Thanks.’
A scattering of clouds lay below. The sky was a dome of blemish-free blue that knew no limits. Just like her life. But had she given up too much to achieve her goals?
Could dreams change?
Even a little?
She slid her lenses up and down her silk sleeve and thought of the woman she’d come to love and respect. Jezz was still achieving and had no regrets about not marrying, but she had been careful choosing her parting words at the terminal earlier. ‘Some people say you can’t have everything. Don’t believe them.’
Everything…
Proving herself had been everything. Pride was everything to David. It had cost them what they deserved to pursue. And she couldn’t think of any way around it. Perhaps sadder still, neither had he.
Immersed in memories, Serena jumped when something cool—her drink—pressed against her hand. She accepted it, mumbled a thank you, then blinked and frowned.
A flute? Filled with…was it—
‘Wine and red soda?’
Her heartbeat froze, then belted against her ribs. She swung around and a battery of fireworks exploded through her body. She felt faint and born again at the same incredible time.
‘David?’ She breathed his name as she slotted her glasses back on, just to make sure.
‘Glasses, huh? Very sexy.’ His eyes smiled across at her as he indicated the seat. ‘May I?’
Her voice had vanished so she simply nodded. A dream. It had to be. The pills had knocked her out—that was the only explanation. This couldn’t be real.
When he was seated, she touched his forearm, hot and solid below the cuff of a rolled chambray sleeve. Olive skin, dark hair, hot scent that reminded her of his chest and his kiss. David was really sitting beside her.
She forced the cogs of her seized brain forward. ‘What are you doing here?’
He adjusted his seat and got comfortable. ‘Flying to Paris.’
Mildly hysterical, she pressed the butt of her hand to her temple and shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Then let me explain.’
Cupping her cheeks, he drew her near. After those long lonely weeks, his mouth claiming hers felt better than heaven. More beautiful than a song. Giving in to the wonder, she savoured his caress along with every delicious promise it seemed to hold.
The hot pad of one finger ran around her jaw as he so slowly broke the kiss. His soft, sultry smile was hypnotic. ‘Getting the picture now?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Warmed to her core, she sighed out a smile. ‘Maybe more explaining…’
His expression was more earnest than bad boy when he lifted her hand and brushed his lips over the palm. ‘When I got that award, I thought I’d feel better. I’d survived tough times before. I could get over this. Over you. But as the days passed I realized I was making the biggest mistake of my life, letting my stupid pride get in the way of the two most important things in my life.’ She shivered when he tipped forward and murmured against her ear, ‘You, and you.’
His nose curved around the shell as he drew away.
She shook herself out of happy-land enough to ask, ‘So, you decided to surprise me on an a plane?’
One brow arched. ‘Thought you’d think it was romantic.’
‘And stay in Paris with me for a week?’
‘I’m making us our number one priority. We can’t get away from each other here. We can, and will, work this out.’
Reality came crashing down. She pulled back. ‘How, David? We’ve been through this.’ Serena, for God’s sake, just shut up! But she couldn’t. They couldn’t back away from it. ‘I still want to work overseas.’
‘Then I’ll keep myself busy overseas too, as long as you come home to me every night.’ His hand found hers and squeezed. ‘You were right. I can buy another business. An air carrier or small airline some place. I don’t have to prove myself to the advertising industry. That was the excuse I used to drive myself. You’re what matters to me. You’re my dream. Let me in, Serena. Let me love you.’
Her nose prickled with a rush of coming tears. She gulped down a laugh. ‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Only every day of my life.’ His fingers fanned around her cheek while his gaze dropped from her hair to her eyes. ‘I am so sorry. I should have made myself clear and said it before, should have done something about it sooner. I love you. I fought against it. With my hang-ups and your passion I knew we’d be in for a rough as well as wonderful time.’
A drop escaped the corner of her eye. Her words were more a wonder-filled breath. ‘You love me?’
‘From your dimples right down to your toes.’ His grin hooked at one side. ‘Especially your toes. And I love the way you manage to look both efficient and as sexy as hell when you head a meeting. The way you won’t back down when you think that you’re right. I love the way you make me feel…incredibly light, incredibly right.’
When he reached over and kissed her again, she dissolved, completely, irreversibly. She was exactly where she wanted to be—nothing left to prove and everything to live for.
Their embrace eased into kisses dotted on the side of her mouth, her cheek, her chin. ‘Serena?’
Did she have to wake up?
Eyes closed, she urged him closer. ‘Hmm?’
‘Is there anything you’d like to share with me? Something you’d like to say?’
Her eyes drifted open. ‘Like, where’s a shower?’
He chuckled as he nuzzled into her hair. ‘You bet, with lots of soap. But, right now I was thinking more along the lines of…’
Her fingers touched his lips. ‘I love you, too. Love you with everything in my heart.’ Memories of her days without him vanished like some magical mist. All that mattered was that they were together and he was about to kiss her again.
‘Hey, buddy, that’s my seat.’
They looked across to find her new friend standing in the aisle and holding her water.
David turned in his seat. ‘It’s an inconvenience, I know. But if you can be patient, maybe take another seat, I’m about to propose to my girl.’
Serena gasped. ‘Propose?’
He took her glass, passed it to the man without taking his eyes from hers, then clasped both her hands to his chest. ‘Serena, will you marry me?’
Every doubt she’d ever known vanished when she replied. ‘When?’
His face eased into one of his bone-melting smiles. ‘We’ll shop in Paris for the perfect ring.’
‘Hey, that’s all very nice,’ the man said, ‘but I paid for that seat.’
David’s big shoulders rotated again. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs and tell the stewardess that David Miles made a mistake and his seat is now yours?’
The man raised his brows, sipped the drink and grinned. ‘They have nice platters in first class.’
When David focused on her again, Serena’s mind still whirled and her throat was clogged with emotion. ‘You’d give up your life here for me? You’d sit in economy?’
‘I’d sit any damn place you want. Do anything you want.’ A wicked glint sparked in his eyes. ‘Which gives me an idea.’
She grinned and nibbled his lower lip. ‘Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? I’m not registered with the Mile High Club.’
His arms curved around her waist. ‘That won’t be a problem. New members join free. No forms. No delay.’ His smile grazed her lips as he removed her glasses, then pulled the blanket over their heads. ‘Houston, we have lift-off.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1376-4
HIRED FOR THE BOSS’S BED
First North American Publication 2008.
Previously published in the U.K. under the title DREAM JOB, HOT BOSS!
&
nbsp; Copyright © 2007 by Robyn Grady.
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