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CHAPTER ONE

Melissa

I’m trying to tell myself the knot in my stomach is because of the turbulence, the lack of sleep, the airline food, and still not having had my ears pop, but I only feel a growing frustration mixed with my lurching butterflies.

We landed an hour ago. I cleared customs and finally reached the arrivals gate for my flight to Sydney, Australia.

The butterflies should be excitement. It should be because I’ve finished college and have my whole life ahead of me. The first big adventure is right now, a trip down under. As soon as I see who has promised to pick me up from the airport, I know exactly why my insides are in a twist.

Mark Meyers is my dad’s future business partner and oldest acquaintance. They are buddies, best friends, or whatever men refer to themselves. He’s spent most of his time on the other side of the world with me, overhearing my dad on a video call or the phone with him.

I don’t know the man at all, but my dad trusts him to pick me up and make sure I get to my hotel before he joins me in a few days. Dad stayed back a few days to sort out some “legal stuff” before coming over to seal a deal with Mark.

Would I usually be nervous about meeting someone for the first time? Notthisnervous. Even if I cancel out my fear of flying, traveling alone, and all my usual hang-ups, there’s only one reason I’ve felt so jittery on the long-haul flight. A part of me just sensed and knew that Mark was an older guy with more than success and a tan working in his favor.

Dad semi-seriously cautioned me about “boys” and what they’re like long before he agreed to let me fly solo, but Mark’s no boy. He’s all man. My innermost fantasy of the perfect man doesn’t come close to the man I know is here for me this morning.

I spot him a second before he sees me, proving to myself I don’t stand a chance of acting like a sane person once I see him in the flesh for the first time. Mark stands head and shoulders above the small crowd waiting for friends or family from the same flight. His dark, thick hair almost looks sandy from the sun until I get a few steps closer and see it’s a very handsome-looking gray. The kind of gray that shimmers in the light. His chiseled jaw flexes, and his dark, piercing eyes shift from one person to the next. His large, muscular frame is in a similar state of tension.

For a businessman, I would’ve expected to see him in a suit. Being summer down here and the fact he has the body of a supermodel should explain his casual white T-shirt and chino shorts—clothes that do every inch of his toned, chiseled body justice. The man would look great in anything.

Or nothing at all.

Solid and muscular legs have the same all-over tan that makes him look “just right” all over. His dark brown eyes soften once they lock with mine, making me feel like a live current has been applied to the bundle of wires I’ve had growing in my gut for the past nineteen hours.

I try to swallow, feeling my mouth dry up and my jaw starting to hang slack when his perfect smile lights up the whole airport—the whole world.

I tell ya, a smile from a man that handsome is enough to change my expression and mood instantly. My uncertain butterflies take flight, thrilling in my chest as I feel flush.

Something in his look oozes full attention. A warm, friendly face that makes me feel like he’s been saving his best smile just for me, but he must be like that with everyone. Dad’s always said he’s the nicest guy. Just a little… “obsessive” about some things.

If he’s obsessed with looking perfect and giving a girl a lady boner, he’s doing a bang-up job so far.

Although he’s only my guide and real help until I find my feet and my hotel, I can’t help wishing I was older. I wish I had something a guy like him might find interesting rather than just being someone’s kid to pick up from the airport.

I walk somewhat mechanically toward him, the airport crowd seeming to move aside as if by magic. I notice his eyes leave mine, missing them already. I wonder if I am wrong when I see them fixed on my chest.

Maybe he is a little boy, after all. I mean, my eyes are up here, buddy.

He reaches me in three long strides, his smile shifting to a more serious look for a moment before his body’s only inches from me. A wave of his fresh, manly scent washes over me. He smells clean and crisp, like the ocean. I could dive into it if I could swim. I could also forgive him for ogling my chest if he’d let me drown in his scent.

Neither of us has spoken, but I could gladly stand this close to him all day.

“Uhhh… Melissa?” he asks. My mouth moves, but no words come out.

I’m also instantly aware that the strap from my bag is splitting my chest in two, causing my boobs to squish at crazy angles, something anyone with eyes would notice. That and my knitted cardigan, the long skirt I chose to conceal my compression stockings for the flight.

I push my glasses up my nose with my finger, wobbling a crooked smile as I realize how awful I must look, but Mark’s smile is real. He’s real.

“Melissa?” he asks again, one of those huge hands gently gripping my shoulder. “You okay? Long-haul flights can really take it out of ya,” he says knowingly. His deep voice is a soothing blend of familiar American with the subtle Aussie twang he’s picked up after living here for so long.

“I-I-I’m Melissa…” I stammer, flushing hard when Mark chuckles. I feel my face redden with annoyance and embarrassment, but one flash from his smile and those shining eyes warm to mine. It’s impossible to stay mad for more than a second. “I mean… yeah!” I announce. “Long-haul flights… Can we… can we go?” I ask, feeling a surge of fellow passengers behind me on the way to collect their luggage.

“I’ve got a car waiting,” Mark agrees, sounding all business instantly as he scans the crowd. I yank the glasses off my face, vowing to wear my contacts on this trip unless, of course, he prefers the glasses. What am I thinking?

“I’ve had your bags collected already so we can go,” he replies, making me jump when I feel his hand on the small of my back, guiding me expertly through the vast, cavernous atrium of the airport.

As if by magic and feeling like I’ve stepped onto a cloud rather than landed in another country, I’m in the back of a sleek but sizable town car. Tinted dark windows and a privacy screen make me feel like I’m right back in business class on the plane, with Mark helping me in before joining me in the back.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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