“We’re about to take off,” Marcus says simply.
“Pfft …” I reply before getting reacquainted with my knees by dropping my head. I choose to remain in this position while the plane skirts the runway and, as my ears pop, they confirm we are now indeed airborne.
“Are you going to sit like that the entire time? You’re going to get a mighty headache if you decide to.”
Slowly, I lift my hunched body, wiggling my bottom into a comfier upright position.
“Do you think you might talk to me, Miss McMillian?” His eyes burn into my cheek, but I don’t dare glance his way.
“Nope.”
He sniggers. “This is going to be a long flight.”
You don’t say.
FOURTEEN
Disarmed
Marcus’s arm brushes against mine. This simple touch has me looking in his direction. He’s not facing my way like I’d expected he’d be. Instead, his nose is buried deep within the glossy pages of his National Geographic magazine. Whatever he’s reading has him completely captivated. How intriguing. I decide not to interrupt. Instead, I sit silently and stare. The longer I stare, the more I realise Marcus is not only the epitome of male beauty, but he’s a downright sophisticated god. How in this world did I not figure out he was the Mr Klein? The penthouse suite with the fine things should have alerted me. Shit! Why am I so stupid?
Unclicking the buckle from around my waist, I take a long breath. “I’d like to get out, please,” I say on exhale.
His eyes don’t move from the pages. “Are you planning on jumping out of the aircraft now?”
I can sense the sarcasm in his tone. Hell, the entire world could. A giggle escapes me, much to my own displeasure. “No. I need to use the restroom.” Actually, that’s a lie. I just need space and time to think about something, anything that doesn’t involve you.
After placing the magazine into the back of the chair in front of us, Marcus stands. “It would probably be best for me to come with you, just in case.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Oh, but it is. I’m responsible for you now.” Leaning in, he whispers, “Your behaviour was appalling and has provided me with wild thoughts regarding how you should be reprimanded. Miss McMillian, in brief, let’s just say you’re a handful, but you’re lucky I enjoy challenges.” His voice oozes seduction, which causes my breath to hitch in my throat as I try to ward off my body’s response to his disclaimer.
Clearing my throat, I manage to choke out, “Never going to happen. Not a handful. Not your problem.” I press one shaky hand into his chest as Marcus makes room for me to pass; he says not another word.
I scurry down the aisle as quickly as possible. Well, as fast as one can on an aircraft. Within seconds, I’m securely locked away in the bathroom. A barrage of relief rushes over me, getting more intense when I realise for one split second my curse provided a reprieve. The amenities were vacant and for the cursed, this never happens. Every part of my body begs for me to slide onto the floor and curl up in the foetal position. If only. I huff while washing my hands and then hesitatingly turn the lock. As the door opens, I’m met by dark, alluring eyes, a scar no bigger than my fingernail, and one hell of a million-dollar smile.
“Abigail.” His tongue caresses my name before his body pushes forward, this motion forcing me backwards.
Click.
Two bodies now press against each other in a small space, locked away from prying eyes.
“What are you doing? This is very unprofessional,” I say softly, not wanting to be heard by anyone outside.
“I think we need to talk in private. Don’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh, but we do.” His eyes search mine, and it’s as if he can see straight through me. Am I made of glass? My stomach knots and my heart beats to a much faster tempo.
“Look, I’m sorry. I thought you knew we’d be working together this week. I can see you’re still somewhat upset, but I’d really like it if we could just enjoy this time together and do what we’ve come here to do, and that is to resolve this very important case. Do you think we can do that?”
I say nothing.
Those dark orbs disappear behind a fan of lashes before mesmerising me once more. “If you’d like, I can arrange for someone else to fly out in the morning and you can go home. I don’t want to force you to stay with me.”
A sharp pain shoots through my chest. My hand grips his tensed bicep. “I’ll stay.”
“Okay.” He grins as his fingers reach for a strand of hair that has fallen against my cheek. He carefully tucks it behind my ear, and I instinctively press my face into his palm. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, breathing out.
I pull away.
“Even when you’re angry, you’re beautiful.”
I scan every inch of this man’s face. “I’m so mad at you … like blood-boiling mad. Like I-hope-you-get-explosive-diarrhoea mad.”
“Such a thing happening to me would make you happy?” He smirks.
“Right now? So happy. Please, Marcus, I’m begging you, stay away from me.”
“Why?” He cocks his eyebrow.
“I’m—”
“Beautiful, funny, hot-tempered—”
“Why am I here, Marcus?”
“Because I wanted you to be,” he replies quickly.
“Do you always get what you want?”
“That I do.” He tilts his head to the side, and his mouth edges closer to mine. He groans as his index finger skims across my lower lip, causing my legs to weaken. My previous stance on what I want diminishes at the look of lust projecting from his dark eyes. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Bang … bang … bang!
“Ma’am, are you okay in there?” a voice bellows through the closed door.
I startle, falling backwards, but I’m caught by quick hands.
“Answer her,” Marcus whispers into my ear.
“I’m fine,” I say shakily.
“Okay.” The word spoken hesitantly.
Marcus moves our bodies with such grace, before I know it, I’m facing the door with him pressed firmly against my back.
“What is it about aeroplanes?” he whispers, burying his head into my neck, leaving a small kiss behind my ear. “I’ll see you out there.” Reaching his arm around me, he turns the lock, and I clumsily slip through the gap.
A short air hostess greets me with narrowed eyes. “Ma’am, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“Can I get you anything?” Her golden eyes flutter as she tilts her head.
“Could I bother you for a bottle of water?” And a fresh pair of underwear. Granny grundies, if you have them. I need a fucking force field to keep myself from succumbing to Marcus’s touch if he intends to keep touching me, that is.
“I’ll bring you some water. Please take your seat.”
Following her outstretched finger, I wonder how one can actually ward off a lusty magician.
Shortly after my parched mouth is satisfied, Marcus returns. He’s smiling in a way that confirms we now have our own private joke.