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“Absolutely not.” But he did exactly that as he walked into her space and sanity, and she had to fight from backing up. Every muscle the man used to hurl speeding baseballs was apparent through the black tee. “I was just offering you a ride. You’re not intimidated, are you?”
“Of course not.” And she wasn’t, at least not of the motorcycle. Of being so close to the man who seduced women with a wink of those blue eyes, perhaps just a little.
“I could call the limo to get you,” he offered in smooth tones. “Of course, they’d have to turn around and that could delay the flight. Your choice.” He held out the helmet, daring her to accept.
It was a plot, a plan, a scheme to wrest control. Yet that knowledge didn’t stop her from reaching out and accepting the smooth safety gear. The sooner she got to the plane, the sooner she could get away from Jason Sterling and focus on her job.
She donned the helmet as he mounted the bike with the ease of a seasoned athlete. Now how best to climb on the monstrous machine? Although fit, she was a good foot shorter than him and had never been on a motorcycle before.
“Let me help you.” Before she could protest, he took her arm, easily encircling it with his large hand. She swung her leg on the bike and somehow managed to succeed the first time. She relaxed into the seat as he instructed her on safe biking.
“Now put your arms around me.”
All relaxation fled. She stretched forward, and he reached back, grasping her hands, wrapping them firmly around his body. The move brought her against his muscular back, setting her blood to boiling. It was like being held by pure steel, endless muscle flexing organic power. It threatened her resolve, her composure, her ability to think.
Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea – maybe she should wait for the car, after all. Just as she considered extraditing herself, he revved the engine, and she instinctively gripped him tighter. A second later they were off.
She clutched him tightly, her chest pressed against his back, her arms encircling him, or at least as far as they went around his large body. His muscles flexed, precise movements controlling complete power. She expected him to ride with wild abandon like he lived life, but instead he gripped total control. Every time they hit a bump, she squeezed him, and his muscles tightened in response. He yelled back multiple times to ask if she was all right.
Finally, the airport loomed, and he turned into the parking lot. As soon as he stopped the bike, she scrambled off. The roaring of the engine might have died, but her heart still beat in staccato rhythm, more a consequence of Jason’s closeness than the ride. She closed her eyes, stood taller. At least she’d get some much needed personal space when they reached the plane.
Then she could finally relax.
She was never going to relax.
The plane was small. Not Cessna tiny, but compared to the massive airliners she usually took, it was pretty miniscule. Sometimes she got airsick on small commuter flights, and this was smaller than most of those planes.
She clutched her carry-on bag with one hand and the rail with the other as she slowly ascended the steep portable stairway. It shook as the wind blew, and she held on tighter. Suddenly, something tugged at her luggage from behind. “Let me help you.” Easily handling the heavy bag, Jason steadied her.
Unease urged her to resist, but then she might tumble down the stairs, and that would almost be worse than trying to render unnecessary medical attention to a baseball player in the middle of a game. So she allowed him to help her the rest of the way, grabbing for her bag as they ascended the top. “Thank you.”
He held it out of her reach, as his eyes sparkled mischief. “No problem. I’ll bring it to your seat.”
He knew where she was sitting? Unease flared to discomfort and then suspicion. “There are assigned seats?”
“Not usually,” he rumbled. “But since we have so much to discuss, Pat and I thought it would be a good idea if we sat together.”
Did Pat truly think that, or did he? No matter what, bringing her uncle into the conversation made it difficult to refuse. “Are you ready to listen to reason?”
“Are you ready to let me live my life?”
She just stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I never said you couldn’t live your life. All I care about is how raucous you get in public. Your relationships are your own business.”
“I don’t have a relationship.”
She pointed to the terminal behind them, where at least fifty women had their noses pressed against the glass as they pointed, waved and smiled at Jason. “I find that hard to believe, especially since millions of women are pursuing you.”
“Actually, there is someone I’m planning to pursue.”
“There is?” she blurted out. “I mean that’s fine. It’s really none of my business.” She ignored the parts of her clamoring to make it her business. Once more, she reached for her bag, and once more he held it out of reach. “Please give me my luggage.”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t carry it to your seat?”
She resisted the urge to jump up and grab it. “Do you know what I’d do if we weren’t surrounded by people?”
He leaned down and whispered so no one would hear. “Judging by our history, I’d say you’d kiss me.”
Well now that he mentioned it… “Just because we kissed once – all right twice – it doesn’t mean–”
