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A perfectly ordinary woman.
Glory ignored her cycling thoughts since they weren’t helping, staring out the window and watching the city go past instead. And then gradually realised that they weren’t going to LAX as she’d expected, but somewhere else.
That somewhere else turned out to be a small, private airfield where the car drove straight onto the runway and pulled up to where a sleek-looking Learjet waited.
Beside the jet stood Castor chatting easily to a woman in a pilot’s uniform.
He was casual today, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt. The hot LA sun glinted off the gold strands in his dark tawny hair and made his skin look even more gilded than it already was. Sunglasses hid the smoky amber of his gaze, but she could still remember the fierce heat in it as he’d stared at her after that kiss.
Her mouth dried, her palms sweaty.
If he’d been beautiful in simple black trousers and a white shirt a week earlier, in casual jeans, a T-shirt and sunglasses he was devastating.
A nameless fear suddenly filled her and if she’d been driving she’d have hauled on the wheel, turned right back around and headed straight back home again.
But she wasn’t in her own car and she had no time to tell the driver she’d changed her mind and could he please take her home, because at that moment Castor turned his head, and even though the windows were opaque, it felt to Glory as if he was looking straight at her.
Her face flamed, memories of that night hitting her full force. The intense heat of his body. The warm, woody scent of his aftershave. The taste of his mouth, like brandy and dark chocolate and mint all rolled into one.
And her own response, the wild uprush of excitement and longing. A hunger for something she didn’t have a name for, and the intense feeling of rightness, as if his arms were the place for her. As if he was the home she’d been fantasising about for so long.
No fantasies. No dreams. Stop it. You signed a contract. This is a job so do it.
Glory curled her fingers into fists in her lap as Castor broke off his conversation with the pilot, striding towards the limo with the intent, purposeful grace of the predator he hid behind that charming smile.
It made Glory’s heart thump painfully with a complicated mix of fear and excitement, and the knowledge that she was going to have to interact with him and she had no idea how, not after that kiss.
Perhaps it would be better if she simply pretended it hadn’t happened.
She plastered what she hoped was a natural smile on her face as Castor pulled open the door and then there he was, standing in front of her, as devastatingly handsome as he’d been that night at his mansion.
His beautiful mouth curved, his gaze remaining hidden behind his sunglasses. ‘Good morning, Glory Albright.’ His voice was exactly as she remembered it, deep and dark, like rough velvet rubbed against her bare skin. ‘I hope you’re ready for our flight. A press release has already gone out from my PR team and there are likely to be photographers around, so follow my lead as we walk to the jet.’
A press release. Photographers. Which meant she’d have to start acting like his lover right now.
All thoughts of the kiss and how she was going to handle interacting with him went by the wayside.
‘The press?’ She sounded squeaky. ‘Here? Already?’
‘Yes, already.’ His smile shifted, a slight adjustment that made it seem less practised, more natural. ‘Don’t look so scared,mikri alepou.’ There was a reassuring note in his voice. ‘It’s not far to the jet and I’ll be with you.’
Glory pulled nervously at the denim of her jeans as the full reality of her situation descended on her in a way it hadn’t before. There would be people watching her, people taking photos, and here she was, in a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, her hair in a ragged ponytail...
‘I’m s-sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I should have worn something nicer, put on some make-up or something. I just didn’t think, and I don’t have anything very nice to wear—’
‘It’s fine,’ he interrupted, as if it wasn’t a big deal. ‘That’s exactly how I want you to look for our first appearance together. Come on, let’s get this over with.’ And then he held out his hand to her.
It’s not the photographers who are making you nervous.
No. It was the thought of taking his hand and how she’d feel once those warm, strong fingers closed around hers. Whether she’d lose her mind so completely the way she had before or...
‘Glory.’ His voice was very deep and very soft, jolting her.
She blinked, pulled herself together and took his hand. And once again as his fingers closed around hers, heat twisted inside her before erupting in little prickles all over her skin.
It almost made her jerk her hand out of his grip, but she managed to stop herself at the last minute. If he noticed, he gave no sign, pulling her out of the car and into the bright sun. Then she was being drawn slowly yet inexorably into the heat of his body, the scent of his aftershave surrounding her, making her mouth water.
Alarm must have shown on her face, because he bent his head as one powerful arm circled her waist, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back. ‘I’m going to kiss you,’ he murmured close to her ear. ‘Just briefly, for cameras.’
