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Marty returned with a bright pink bakery box, two glasses, and a carafe of water. “Did I hear you’re a baker?”
“I am.” When he set the dessert on her tray table, she peered inside. “Oh, I love macarons.” She pulled out a purple one and bit into it. “Mm, so good.” With a look of encouragement, she offered it to him. “It’s blackberry.”
He waved a hand. “No, thanks.” He’d had them before.
She lifted another pastry out of the box. “Ooh, I love, love, love a good fruit tart. The creamy custard with the acidity of the strawberries?” She closed her eyes as she took a healthy bite. Her head tipped back, and she moaned. “So good.” When her eyes opened, she lifted the treat to Marty.
The flight attendant nipped the edge of it and chewed. “That’s good.”
“Good? Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah, not a huge fruit fan.”
“That’s fair.” With greedy eyes, she scanned the other contents. “Let’s try the chocolate.”
Watching her teeth sink into the soft, gooey slice of cake got his dick humming. It made no sense. He had to look away.
But he couldn’t. His gaze was riveted on that wide, supple mouth made for giving pleasure. Because those sounds she was making? She’d make the same ones when he licked inside her.
What the hell?
He forced himself to look away.
You’re not fucking this woman.
Jesus. What’s wrong with me?
ChapterThree
Her eyelids fluttered closed.“Mm. I’m in heaven.” When they popped open, she was staring at him with pure mischief and seduction. “Try it.”
“I’m good.”
“When was the last time you had dessert?” she asked.
“No idea. Don’t really think about it.”
“Look at him getting all grumpy.” Marty dug back into the box. “Maybe he’d prefer this one. What is it?”
“That’s a dacquoise,” Grace said. “It’s almond and hazelnut.”
“I’ll pass,” Jaime said. “Really, it’s not my thing, but you guys enjoy.”
Grace set the box down. In two steps, she was seated beside him with her shiny, dark hair, seductive smile, and her lemon-sunshine dress. “Do you like chocolate?” She lifted the glossy cake to his mouth.
“I can take it or leave it.” Why did she affect him like this when she was clearly not his type?
He liked women with tousled hair and smoky eyes, women who’d had a few drinks and were down to party. He liked the kind of woman who ran a hand down his thigh and pressed her mouth to his ear.Meet me in the bathroom, handsome.
Yeah, he likedthatkind of woman.
Not the kind whose eyes lit up over a damn cookie. Who wore pretty sundresses and insisted on repaying her parents before she recouped her life savings.
“Try one bite.” She leaned closer.
She was having too much fun trying to convince him to taste the cake to notice that the arm pressed against her side pushed her breasts together, plumping them. He could practically feel the hard bead of her nipple in the palm of his hand and imagine the hitch in her breath when he pinched it.
Irritation rose like a swarm of mosquitoes, and he looked her right in the eyes. “I’m not interested.” He got up. “I’ve got some work to do.” Heading to the back of the plane, he dropped into the desk chair.
