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That makes me smile, because I don’t get the sense that anything about her is easy.
“But leave it. It’s my job. I’ll fix us both a drink after I change.”
“And I can fix us both one while you change.”
She eyes me like she doesn’t know what to make of that. “Fine, I’ll just have what you’re having then.”
“Brandy on the shirt?” Her eyes widen at the joke. “See, not always an asshole,” I say, and turn my attention to making the drinks. I reach for two tumblers and add a splash of brandy to both. I take a sip of mine as I head back to my seat. Newspaper back in hand, I begin to read again. My mind drifts to the real reason I’m headed to Saint Thomas. While I have a home there and plan to work on my algorithms, I need to check on Granddad’s luxury hotel. It was destroyed by hurricanes, and a lot of people were out of work because of it. It’s back up and running now, and I want to make sure everything is proceeding smoothly. I also need to work on staffing for Leonard Elementary, the school we’re building to replace the old moldy one. As I consider that, I realize Khloe hasn’t returned to her seat. What the hell is she doing in that bathroom? I check my watch. Christ, she’s been in there for a good twenty minutes.
Pushing from my seat, I go to the door and knock. “Khloe, is everything okay?”
“Uh, just not sure about this shirt.”
“You’d prefer the T-shirt?” I ask, and reach over my shoulder, about to peel it off.
“No, that won’t help either.”
“Come out here. Tell me what’s going on,” I demand. A second passes, and the sign on the door finally changes from Occupied to Vacant. Her damp T-shirt is balled up in her hands, and she’s pressing it hard against her chest as she steps from the lavatory.
“I had to remove my bra,” she says, “and this shirt is white.”
“All my shirts are white. So are my T-shirts.”
“That’s why I said nothing you have will help.”
“Help with what?” I ask, and when her chest heaves, understanding dawns. She’s worried her nipples are going to be visible. But now that I’m thinking about her nipples... Shit, that’s a distraction I don’t need. “Hang on.” I open the overhead compartment again and pull out a blue blanket. “This should help.”
For the first time since she boarded the plane, a smile makes an appearance, and something inside me twists. “Thanks, Will.” She adjusts the blanket over her shoulders, and my gaze drops to take in a hint of pink brushing against the fabric before it’s hidden from my view.
Jesus.
Her body is ripe and lush, and my hands itch to slide down her back and grab a fistful of her sweet ass. Not only is she different from the young, fresh-out-of-college girls who do temp work for me, she’s the opposite of the rail-thin women in my social circle. I loved Naomi, but she needed to eat more than a salad. No matter how much I encouraged it, she always refused.
I clear my throat. “When we land, I’ll get your bag, and you can change before you deplane.”
I wave my hand for her to sit, and she tightens the blanket around her shoulders as she hurries to her seat. I follow, all the while admiring her curves. As she settles herself, I wonder what her story is. Married? Single? Boyfriend? Then again, it’s none of my business. Still, I might ask Granddad how he found her and why he thought she was a good choice. I hand her drink over, and she takes a sip, her skin paling even more. Something buzzes in the back of my brain, something just out of reach as my gaze rakes over her white face.
“Do I know you?”
CHAPTER THREE
Khloe
“AH, I’M NOT SURE,” I say, the cold pizza I’d eaten for breakfast threatening to rise up and make a second appearance. I thought I was nauseous from my ordeal at Starlight this morning. Now I think I might be coming down with something. Either that, or I shouldn’t have eaten that leftover slice sitting on the kitchen counter all night.
Will’s eyes narrow in on me. “Khloe,” he says, and the way he says my name, like he’s savoring it, does the weirdest things to my insides. Then again...leftover sausage pizza.
He sits forward, and I catch a hint of his aftershave. Sandalwood,
beach and... Will. I inhale slowly. That scent could magically melt the panties right off a woman. I’m pretty sure mine are currently on fire. Honestly, if someone bottled it and called it Panties Be Gone they’d make a fortune.
Strength and power radiate from Will’s hard body as he inches closer, his long legs stretched out before him. I do my best not to envision them wrapped around my body.
Sometimes my best just isn’t good enough.
“I think I might know you,” he says.
“You...think?” I ask, trying to focus on what he’s saying to me.
