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“That’s my girl.” I shiver again when he whispers in my ear, “I know something that can help you relax before we get to the Big Apple. I also know how to make you like the city… Let’s board,” he declares with a wink.
When he stands and holds out his hand for me, I stare into those wicked blue eyes that are making me do crazy things, but I place mine in his and grab my purse.
That’s when one of those bitches opposite us giggles. It’s one of those flirty laughs that every woman recognizes but no man does.
I shoot them a nasty look, even though Cade doesn’t even appear to notice them.
I’ve always had a slight jealousy problem, but with Cade, I’m ready to scratch these women’s eyes out if they don’t back off. Geez, can’t they see he’s taken when he’s been touching my face the way he has? Can’t they see how he’s marked my throat?
My death stare works because they both look away.
Either that or they realize Cade is a lost cause because he’s too busy snatching my purse and carrying it for me in a way that’s no good for the leather but is so chivalrous that I melt.
My knees feel weak as I straighten up and walk toward the gate.
There are close to two million people in Manhattan, I reassure myself, and I won’t run into my father in Hell’s Kitchen, that’s for sure. He barely leaves Fifth Avenue—I doubt the years have made him less of a pretentious asshole than before.
Cade’s hand squeezes mine, returning my attention to him.
It centers me,groundsme.
Helps me accept that I need to just go with the flow and see where all this takes me. The sex is off the charts, but I think the reason I’m not running in the other direction is because of how he touches me, how he looks at me as if I’m his and his alone.
It’s too soon.I know that.But I can’t find it in me to care because it’s so good to feel cherished. Protected.Safe.
“You do know I have to come back in a week or so,” I mutter, my tone thick with stupid emotions while I unashamedly cling to his hand as he walks us to the attendant and goes through the motions of getting us onboard.
He hums his understanding then smiles politely at the attendant, who immediately blushes and returns the smile.
I want to kick her with my heel. Although, being dragged away by securitywouldbe a way to get out of going to New York…
“God, does every woman just throw themselves at you?” I hiss as he walks us onto the plane.
“Look at you, getting all possessive,” he croons.
I scowl. “Whatever.”
Laughing, he stops us at the business class section. “I like it.”
“You would,” I say, unable to stop myself from laughing too.
He’s like the bubbles in champagne—hard to be around without feeling happy. Which, for me, is saying something.
Speaking of…
“Would you like some champagne?” the flight attendant asks as we take our seats.
“Please,” Cade answers. “And a blanket, also.”
“Of course.”
As I buckle the seat belt and look out the window, she disappears to get our drinks. It’s only then that I smell her perfume.
Is that…?
It is.
Opium.
