A man’s voice filled the cabin from a hidden speaker. “Sir, prepare for takeoff.”
Wes leaned over. “I promised to cover all the safety measures with you in order to fly with minimal crew.”
“What’s going on?” A tendril of unease snaked through me. A man who was pretending to be another man was stealing me away at night on a private jet.
Mothers everywhere probably felt like it was too absurd to warn their daughters about situations like this.
“Sam?”
He did a double-take at the tremor in my voice and asked in an incredulous tone, “You’re not scared, are you?”
“You have a private jet?”
His expression shut down. “Business is good.” He shrugged, his tone flat. “What can I say?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I was so in over my head. He’d grown up manipulating people. What had I been thinking when I’d thought to fool him? Confronting him as soon as O found out was what I should’ve done. Hindsight shows the target on a fool’s ass, old Sam had always said.
“I’ll save the real surprise for when we’re in the air.”
My fingers curled to unhook my seatbelt as panic threatened to set in. “Take me back.”
The plane lurched forward and I gripped my seat, white-knuckling it through taxiing. His hand landed on top of mine.
“Relax.” His voice was surprisingly soft. “I have some business in New York, but I had something really important to talk with you about. Two birds, one stone, and all that.”
As the plane sped up and the roar of the engine grew louder, I gulped, not wanting to be one of the birds he was dealing with.
He held my hand all through takeoff until the cabin light dinged that it was safe to move around.
He unbuckled himself and stood. “Lemme show you around.”
I got to my feet and discovered my knees were wobbly. I didn’t fear Wes. He might be a monster in business, but while this situation and how he was acting sent warning flares up left and right, he would never physically hurt me. Seduce me, yes. Fly me to a strange city… We were flying to New York? I had to work in the morning. Could I use my cell phone to call Chris and see if he could open?
“If you have to use the facilities, it’s that door there.”
I spotted the narrow lavatory door.
He swirled his hand where he stood by a glossy wooden table surrounded by four plush chairs. “This is my meeting room. Where we sit during takeoff and landing or when we want to ignore each other.”
“We?”
“My staff.” His piercing blue eyes pinned me in place. “If you want a drink, we have a fully stocked wet bar.”
A glass of something strong sounded appealing.
I forced my feet to move. “I need to use the restroom.”
Shuffling past him, I kept my gaze riveted to the red-carpeted floor with each step instead of on him.
“You don’t look well. There’s a bedroom beyond the toilet, if you need to lay down—after we talk.”
I closed my eyes and paused briefly. Wes Robson had a private bedroom in his private plane. How charming. Was it an exclusive club of women that got to be in it?
Why did it break my heart to think of him dallying with others in this plane?
The lavatory made my bathroom look gloriously spacious. I leaned on the pristine sink counter, all two inches of it, and stared at my reflection.
What was Wes up to? What had changed for him to surprise me? How much more could he do to me other than take my livelihood away?
I took a fortifying breath and unlatched the door.
“I didn’t think you were ever coming out.” He took a step toward me, the familiar heat in his gaze. “Do you feel like lying down?”
“No,” I said abruptly. No matter what he was up to, I’d turn to putty as soon as he touched me.
He stepped back, calm mask back in place. “Okay. So…have a seat.”
I chose a plush chair on the opposite side of the table from him. He took a seat.
We watched each other, like poker players not knowing what the other’s hand held.
I glanced out the window. Nothing but black sky. “How long is the flight?”
“About two more hours.”
“Then New York, huh?”
“Excited?”
“I have no money, no luggage. And I work in the morning.” I ran my hands up and down what had to be leather armrests. When he didn’t reply, I struggled to find a neutral topic. “How was your day?”
A haughty lift of a brow. “Informative. And yours?”
“Fine. I had a nice visit with my mom.”
His right eye twitched. “How is Wendy?”
“She’s well. I haven’t told her I’m losing the store. Stress isn’t good for her.”
Another near wince. Could I appeal to his sensitivities?
“Why don’t you open another store again?”
“Money. Not all of us have it.”
“But you do.”
“Pardon?”
He reached down to a briefcase and withdrew a folder. “You have, in fact, over a million dollars.”
I quit stroking the chair. He’d said his day was informative. Now I knew why. And this was how he wanted to talk about it, by mixing me in with New York business.
“What’s this about, Wes?”
“It’s about—” His steel gaze glared at me as it dawned on him what name I’d used. He reclined, a mask of calm in place. “I guess I don’t need to introduce myself. You continue to be full of surprises.”
My hands twisted on my lap. “I didn’t know who you were until last Saturday when you visited the store. One of the guys recognized you and enlightened me as to who my new boyfriend was.”
“Boyfriend?” His voice filled with derision. “Were we exclusive?”
Ouch. Like a rabbit punch to the sternum.
“I was,” I said in a ragged whisper.
His only tell was the muscle jumping in his jaw. “And you happily played along.”
“I wanted to show you how normal people lived since you seem to think I did something so atrocious.”
Rage clouded
