Brie’s eyes lit with a fervent light as she began to recite a passage from one of Forster’s books. “I used to be so dreamy about a man’s love as a girl, and think that, for good or evil, love must be the great thing. But it hasn’t been, it has been itself a dream.”
“Howard’s End?” Alec confirmed and she nodded. “Well said. That was the only book I read of his, but it was excellent.”
Howard’s End was the story of a strong-willed, intelligent woman who refused to let her husband and his family ruin her life with their smugness and pride. It was not a romance, not like her bodice ripping pirate story.
She seemed to realize the direction of his thoughts. “I don’t just read romance,” she replied. “But I enjoy stories with happy endings the best.”
“Why? Real life rarely ends happily. At best, it ends in a draw.” His tone came out a little more belligerent than he’d intended.
“Perhaps that’s why. People need to believe in things. Love, heroes, adventures, a purpose to a life that might otherwise feel purposeless. Romance gives people hope.” She grinned. “And the books are just fun. What do you read? And please, for the love of God, tell me you read and not something predictable like Hemingway. So many people don’t read anymore.” The way she said that, with a note of subtle sorrow intrigued him. Someone who had mattered to her most must not have been a reader.
“I read,” he assured her. “Mostly nonfiction. True crime tends to be my favorite, but I admit I have a soft spot for Agatha Christie mysteries. I blame my mother for it.”
“Murder on the Orient Express?” Brie asked.
“Death on the Nile is my favorite. But Orient is very good. And Then There Were None is also a classic. Even though I know how they all end, I always like to reread them. There’s something to the way she weaves all the characters together until you’re left questioning whether you really do remember how it ends or who the murderer actually was.”
“I think I watched more Hercule Poirot movies than I’ve read the books,” Brie admitted with a blush. “David Suchet was such a perfect choice for him.”
“I agree. My mom loves the old Poirot show. I’ve caught her watching reruns more than once.” He couldn’t help but grin. It had been ages since he’d thought of how his mum would put a kettle on and settle in her favorite parlor to watch Poirot. He rarely went home anymore…and he especially avoided that place on Christmas. It was too painful. Even now the thought made his chest tight as he closed his eyes a second too long.
Brie’s warm fingertips touched his hand, drawing him back to the plane. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Sorry. Just thinking.” He tried to return to the subject. “I must admit I have a certain fondness for Kenneth Branagh’s recent take on the detective. Sometimes a new interpretation brings fresh energy to a well-known story.”
They finished dinner and the attendants cleared their plates. They were given a small leather tote containing lip balm, toothpaste, a hairbrush, hand sanitizer, and lotion. When the cabin lights dimmed, many of the passengers around them pressed the button to flatten their seats into beds for the night.
“A real bed,” Brie sighed dreamily. “The last time I flew overnight was when I was in college. I flew in coach and I can’t sleep sitting up.”
“Nor can I,” Alec agreed. It was why he’d made Barclays pay for first class. He couldn’t sleep with all those people crammed in around him.
“Do you mind if I…?” She held up her toiletry kit and nodded at the bathroom.
“Sure.” He stood to let her pass, straightening as she brushed against him. He was lost for a moment in the feel of her body pressed to his. Then his stomach dropped as the plane tilted. He reacted instinctively, grasping Brie’s hips. She clutched his chest to keep from toppling into the row across from them. His hands tightened and he fought hard not to do something completely reckless like steal a kiss in the middle of a crowded plane.
“Thanks,” she murmured, and he reluctantly let go. Something was wrong with him. He’d become fixated on this woman. He needed to focus on work. He waited for Brie to return and then used the bathroom after her, brushing his teeth and using the facilities. When he got back to their row, she was trying to fix her bed without success.
“Alec, I’m sorry to bug you but—”
“I’ll see to it.” He leaned past her to turn her seat into a bed and then handed her the pillow and blanket that came with her seat. It was only when he’d settled into his own bed that he realized just how close he was to Brie. Lying down in the dark, their breath mingled as they faced one another.
“You know, for a smart Alec, you really aren’t so bad,” she whispered.
The dimmed cabin lights reflected as tiny pinpricks of light in her eyes, like distant stars in a cold winter sky. There was no denying that she was lovely. The inviting shape of her mouth, the heart-shaped face, and the impish curve of her nose, all now shadowed, were no less attractive than before. But the quiet and the dark lent a fresh intimacy between them that sent a forbidden thrill through him.
“You aren’t too bad either, Cheddar,” he said.
“Cheddar?”
“What?” he smirked. “It’s better than Brie.”
“Oh my god, I kind of hate you.” But she was laughing as she said it and there was a delightful twinkle in her eyes that he enjoyed.
Brie’s smile was soft and sleepy. She fisted a hand against her mouth when she yawned. “Thanks for keeping me distracted during takeoff…and for the champagne.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered and watched her close her eyes. The sight of her falling asleep was strangely fascinating. As a child, he’d teased his cousin, Astrid, for loving the movie Sleeping Beauty. He laughed at the idea of a man being bewitched by a sleeping woman he didn’t know, but now he knew what the prince had felt in that moment in the film. There was a magnetic need to be close to this woman. He craved to know what dreams might come into her mind, what adventures she would encounter in the place between deep sleep and waking.
What is it about you, Brie Honeyweather, that makes me forget… That makes me hunger… And the longer he looked at her, he did hunger for so many things. The strongest of which was for a kiss he would never have.
Brie’s bed shook slightly, the turbulence waking her. She rolled on her back and groaned as she realized where she was. On a plane. Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Hurtling through the atmosphere at hundreds of miles an hour.
“You okay?” Alec’s voice was roughened with sleep. It startled her for a moment. Their drowsy gazes locked, and she couldn’t deny the quiet intimacy of the moment, as though they were the only two people there. The plane was so quiet it was easy to believe that narrative.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She then realized with some embarrassment that she needed to go to the bathroom. “I’m sorry, but I’m going up to crawl over you to use the restroom.”
He stayed still as she did exactly that. Once inside, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered how much sleep she actually got. She’d put her watch in her backpack before she got to security and forgotten to put it back on. She washed her hands and opened the door but gasped when she saw Alec standing just outside.