I know it’s a dick move, but I’m desperate. How else am I going to get her to stay with me? I’m having everything planned as though she already is. This little nap gives me a chance to fire off a few messages. I want the suite I requested to be arranged in a way that makes her feel welcome. I’ll pull out all the stops if I have to.
I had my assistant check around, and he reported back to me that there aren’t any hotels above three stars that have an available room. That might be enough to persuade her to stay with me, but I’m not chancing it. There is no way in hell that I can let her go now.
Plain, my ass. Mable is fucking breathtaking, and I know there will be attention on her. I can’t fathom her roaming around in a hotel alone. Is it rational? No, but it appears Mable isn’t the only one doing things out of their norm.
When I realize that we are close to our final descent, I order her another glass of wine before I begin to wake her up. I don’t want to. She’s angelic with her thick lashes resting on her round cheeks.
“Hey, baby.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb, making her eyes flutter open. Mable blinks a few times before jerking to sit all the way up.
“Oh God.” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Tell me I wasn’t drooling.”
“You weren’t drooling.”
Mable narrows those expressive eyes onto me. “Are you just saying that?”
“No.” Not this time. If she had been drooling, I wouldn’t have told her. I don’t need her getting shy or embarrassed on me right now. “I ordered you a drink. We’re going to be landing soon.” Mable’s face softens, and a smile appears.
“You’re sweet.” She keeps saying that, which makes me wonder more about how other men—scratch that; I should call them boys—treated her in the past. A man would never tell her she was dull or boring.
“I have my moments,” I tease. It’s her that pulls the sweetness out of me. I tend to be direct, and you always know where you stand with me. At times some would even call me cold, but you have to steel yourself to some emotions when you’re responsible for over a million people. Mable sips on her wine. “You know, I asked my assistant to search around for a hotel for you.”
“Craptical! I forgot I didn’t get a room. I was going to find one when I landed.” Her shoulders drop, and worry starts to take over. She might not be as tipsy as I thought. “I could stay with you.”
Scratch that. She’s still past tipsy because she would have never said that sober or even tipsy. I might not have known her for long, but Mable is so open, and she’s easy to read.
“You are more than welcome to stay with me.”
“Really?” She leans over toward me with a bright smile. Who could ever say no to her?
“I have a suite. There is more than enough room.”
“You’re the best.” She presses her mouth to mine, but it’s only a brush of a kiss. “I can pay for it.”
“I already did.”
“But I can pay you back.” That’s never happening. In fact, the idea of taking care of her has arousal creeping in. Part of why I don’t date is because I’d be used, whether it be for the money, power, or to have rights to my last name. That shit always bothered me. Except now. I’d let Mable use the fuck out of me, but she’s too sweet to do it. That means I’ll have to be a few steps ahead.
“Mable, I can cover it.”
“I know. Your watch proves that.” She taps it. “Why are you on this flight?”
“It was last minute. This was quicker and less hassle.”
“My mom is a free spirit for the most part, but she’d die before flying commercial.” When she speaks of her mom, I can see the mix of emotions it stirs up in her. Mable had spoken more about her mother before she fell asleep.
I don’t know if Mable has put it together, but a big part of her annoyance with her mother, while still loving her, is the fact that for years Mable followed along on all of her wild antics, but her mother can’t seem to bend who she is from time to time for her daughter. I find it selfish, and I can relate to that feeling when it comes to your mother.
“For me it’s whatever works best.”
“Efficient.” She nods her head firmly, making the glasses on the top of her head fall back down onto the tip of her nose.
I push them back up for her. Mable’s eyes are wide as I trail my fingers down her round cheeks, counting the freckles that pepper her cheeks and nose. You have to be close to notice them, and no one should ever be this near to her but me.
“You need someone who would handle all the details for you,” I tell her. “I think then you would be able to truly relax and enjoy yourself.” There is no safety net for her. Well, there wasn’t. Now I’m here, so she no longer has to worry about it.
“I do.” I’m not sure if her response is a question or a realization that she does actually need this. “I mean, it sounds nice, but I’m an adult, so…” Mable shrugs one of her delicate shoulders before picking up her drink to finish it and hand it to the flight attendant, who is getting things ready for landing.
“How about this?” An idea forms in my head. I turn slightly in my seat, wanting to see her expressive face. It’s sweetly pure how she lets everything show there. “You let me do that while we’re here,” I offer. Mable blinks a few times, making me wonder if she heard me.
