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I take in her narrowing eyes and tightening mouth and can’t shake the feeling that something about her is...off. Granddad is pretty particular when it comes to my assistants. Then again, he’s not getting any younger, and I do worry about him. Can I still trust his judgment?
“My grandfather explained your duties, did he not?”
“I...” She briefly looks down, her dark eyes stormy. A second later, her head lifts and she shakes her wavy hair back, her composure returning. “Yes, of course.”
“Then you know you’ll be running errands, cooking, cleaning, taking care of my needs while in the air and at my beach house.”
“Yes. Right. Exactly. Your needs. I’ll get you a brandy as soon as we’re in the air.”
“Please, have a seat so we can take off.” I gesture to the leather recliner across from me, and she quickly lowers herself and buckles in.
The copilot secures the cabin door, and I give him the all-clear nod before he disappears into the cockpit. My attention travels back to Khloe. Her gaze flits to the window, then to the magazines and newspapers flared out on the round table between us. Brows angrily squashed together, her hand goes to her stomach, and her fingers splay.
“Are you a nervous flyer?”
“No, I’ve just never flown in a private jet before.” She smiles, but it’s forced. “It’s nice.”
“Help yourself to something to read,” I say. She shakes her head and pulls what looks like a hard-covered journal from her bag. I go back to reading my paper, but every few seconds I glance over the top, curious about the woman my grandfather hired. She’s young and fresh-faced, but there’s a light of intelligence and experience in her eyes—unlike the recently graduated college girls who normally sign up at the agency.
I never delve into the personal, and I’m about to ask her what she does, or rather did, for a living, and why she is no longer employed, but my buzzing cell phone draws my attention. I tug it from my suit jacket and slide my finger across the screen.
“Hey, Jules,” I say, and don’t miss the way Khloe’s eyes lift and travel to mine. They latch on briefly, hold for a second too long, then she goes back to the pages of her journal as if uninterested. My niece begins to talk a mile a minute. While I love and miss her, I have no idea how my cousin Tate and his wife, Summer, stay sane. “No, I can’t come over tonight. I’m going to Saint Thomas. Remember I told you that the other night.” She jabbers on some more, and I can’t help but smile when I hear Summer in the background, telling her to slow down. “Of course I’ll be back for your birthday party, and no, I’m not telling you what I got for you. You’re really going to like it, though.”
Summer takes the phone. “You tease.”
I laugh at that, but it’s true. I am a tease. I’ve been known to push buttons as well.
“Hey, be nice.” I steal another glance at Khloe, who’s looking out the window and feigning disinterest in my conversation. How would she react if I pushed her buttons? She didn’t like it when I reprimanded her for her tardiness or her clothes, and I can’t deny that I enjoyed that quick flash of anger in her eyes. What would she do or say if I fueled that fury?
“You promise you’ll be back for her party?” Summer asks.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I love hanging out with Jules and spoiling her. I used to want kids of my own, thought I’d have them with Naomi, until I fucked everything up between us. Jesus, I have no idea how I got so drunk at my party and found m
yself in bed with another woman. What kind of guy pulls a shitty stunt like that, anyway? Not one worth marrying, that’s for sure. I thought I was different from the generation of men who’d come before me. All of them had been unfaithful. I prided myself on my ability to engage in monogamous relationships, but I guess after a few drinks, my true colors had come through. I’d never meant to hurt Naomi—I’d loved her, for Christ’s sake. But at the end of the day, she’s better off without a bastard like me in her life.
I talk to Summer for a few more minutes, and hint at Granddad’s old age. I am worried about the man’s judgement. As a doctor and Granddad’s former aide, Summer assures me he’s well and fine. We’re well into the air by the time I end the call. I catch Khloe’s eye, take in the pallor of her skin. Perhaps she’s lying about being a nervous flyer. If that’s the case, she never should have agreed to this job. Then again, it pays well, and she might have circumstances I don’t know about. But I’m not about to ask. Her business is hers, mine is mine.
“Seat belt sign is off,” I say. When she nods, I arch my brow at her, and she looks puzzled for a second.
“Right, your drink.” She’s quick. Damned if I don’t like that about her.
She unbuckles and turns to set her journal down on her seat. When she gives me an up close, unobstructed view of her curvy ass, it captivates my cock. Goddammit. It’s all I can do to swallow the groan rising in my throat.
Jesus.
She turns to me, and I scrub my hand over my chin. “How would you like your drink? With ice, cola, water?” she asks.
“Brandy on the rocks,” I say.
She gives a curt nod and makes her way to the small kitchen area at the rear of the plane. My gaze is latched onto her backside as she walks away, and I shake my head to pull myself together. I’ve been working so goddamn hard lately, long into the nights, developing a new algorithm platform for Carson Management Investments, the hedge fund company I run for Granddad. I’ve forgotten what it was like to crawl into bed with a soft, curvy woman who smells like sweet vanilla.
I turn back to the newspaper, and while my focus is usually laser sharp, the clanging at the back of the plane pulls my attention. What the hell is she doing back there, busting the place up? Something falls and smashes, followed by a round of muted curses. I unbuckle to see what the hell is going on. Khloe has her back to me as I walk toward her, and I’m about to look over her shoulder when I reach her. But she turns at that exact moment, and the large glass of brandy in her hand hits my chest, soaking us both.
“Dammit,” she says, and tries to jump away, but with the counter digging into her back she has nowhere to go. I, on the other hand, have plenty of room behind me. So why aren’t I distancing myself, putting a measure of space between our vibrating bodies?
My dick twitches.
Ah yes, and therein lies the answer.
