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She smoothed her hands down her skirt and took a deep breath, debating whether to tell him the truth. In the end, she didn’t see a point in lying about her fear of flying. “I’ve only been on one other flight, but it was a rough one. Turbulence isn’t really my thing.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and she relaxed just a bit. She had a long flight ahead of her, and she needed to sit back and relax. The way she acted was her own doing. He was just a man, after all.
A very big, scary, and dominating man but a man, nonetheless.
Dinner was served, and they ate in relative silence.
“More water, Miss Winters?” Walter bent at the waist and smiled down at her.
“Sure, thank you.”
“Mr. Moore, another scotch or would you like something else?”
Blythe looked at Dietrich and saw his gaze fixated on hers once again. She started to feel a bit unnerved because whenever she glanced at him his attention was on her. It seemed like forever before he tore his eyes from her.
“Another scotch, Walter, and please bring a glass of champagne for Miss Winters.” Walter nodded and left them alone.
“Water is fine.”
Sandra walked by and set a plush blanket and pillow on the seats beside them, and they were once again left alone.
“I’m aware of that, but it’s clear your nerves are a bit tight, and it might help.”
Walter returned with their drinks and asked if there was anything else they needed before he disappeared into the galley.
A look at her watch showed they were already a couple of hours into their flight. The sun still shone in the horizon but would be sinking soon as night approached.
“I’d like to go over your itinerary to make sure I have everything cemented and there is no room for mistake. If that is okay, Sir?” After a moment, he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
“First, I have something for you.” He reached into his briefcase by his feet and pulled out a thick envelope. The took out an iPhone, iPad, and black Amex. She must have stared longer than he liked because he said, “Go on.”
She took the items.
“The phone is imperative. I must be able to have direct contact with you at all times.” Blythe knew from the file that she would be staying at a private, beachfront villa that Dietrich owned. Pictures had littered the internet, and she had instantly fallen in love. “The iPad has an app that has my schedule on it. Everything you need to know about what I’m doing and when I’m doing it is all on there.”
“And the card?” She held up the card and caught his eyes.
“You will be by my side constantly. I need you to dress the part. Once we get to Lisbon and are settled in, I’ll have someone take you shopping. I’ve already sent you a text on what you’ll need to buy.”
Blythe looked down at her clothing and felt heat rise to her face. No doubt she was red. “I’ve packed clothing, Sir, enough for the whole month.” He let his eyes travel up and down her body, and she suddenly felt completely naked in front of him.
“We will be attending several conferences, meetings, and parties. I need you to dress the part. Understood?” The way he spoke brooked no argument.
She had never met a man so frustratingly controlling, but there was something inside of her that melted to his deep voice. It was her own sick desires that made her feel that way. Only one person knew her dark desires, and that person was most likely curled up with a ridiculously hot guy back at his apartment.
Blythe had confessed everything to Austin one drunk-filled night. Admitting that she fantasized about submitting to a man and giving up her power to someone who would control the situation brought out a deep-seated lust inside of her.
There had been too many times she lay in her bed, her eyes closed as she imagined her flesh stinging as strips of leather whipped across it. The thought of pain filling her was washed away with pleasure.
The one serious relationship she had ended in disaster.
Asking Mark to bend her over his lap and spank her with his belt had resulted in him calling her every name in the book and storming from her apartment. That had been over a year ago, and she hadn’t dated since.
Bringing herself out of her past, she offered Mr. Moore a smile and said, “I understand completely, Sir. Following orders won’t be a problem.”
“Good, Miss Winters. That is exactly what I like to hear.” He relaxed further in his seat and took a sip of his scotch as he watched her. “Go on, Miss Winters. Brief me.” He smiled for the first time since she had met him.
It was all straight, white teeth, but it wasn’t warm and kind. Instead, it reminded her of a lion about to slaughter the lamb.
