Chapter 6
KARA
I fought hard not to lose it completely at Shawn’s victorious smile.
“No.” I wasn’t ready to face him so soon after what we’d done in the back of his limo. “No. You said you weren’t going back today.”
“My plans have changed.” He stood in the aisle between a desk and a seat that looked far nicer than anything I’d ever flown in before. He gestured to the space around him. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
I tore my gaze away, unable to look at him, all smug in his beautifully tailored suit.
I glanced around as if searching for an escape route, even though I already knew there was one at my back.
In any other situation, I would have thought the cabin was spacious, but it looked too impossibly small to contain Shawn Dunn.
I couldn’t spend the next eight hours locked in this metal container with him.
He hadn’t given me time to regroup.
“No,” I said. “I’ll take a later flight.”
He latched a hand onto my wrist, stopping me when I tried to back up, and he pulled me shuffling forward, deeper into his plane.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said lightly. “You’re already here, and we’re ready to go.”
The pretty female cabin attendant I hadn’t noticed until that moment moved to the doorway and began to retract the stairs.
“Wait,” I said as the hatch thudded shut.
She must have been instructed to ignore my protests and kept her focus on Shawn. “I’ll let the captain know everyone’s on board.” A British accent flavored her words. “Can I get either of you something to drink?”
“Bourbon and a water for me. Kara?”
I shook off his hold and gaped at him, still reeling. “It’s four in the morning.”
He shrugged. “Not in Munich.”
I wanted to point out that it was still too early, but when I didn’t speak immediately, his attention returned to the attendant.
“Nothing for her,” he said. “Thank you, Victoria.”
She nodded and disappeared around a corner into her station.
“You’ve got some nerve,” I snapped, “canceling my flight. How the hell did you do that?”
He didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. If anything, he seemed quite pleased with himself. “I saw your confirmation number when you were checking your departure time yesterday.”
“You . . .” Anger made thoughts clog inside my head. “Why did you do this?”
“You gave me the impression you wouldn’t see me again.”
“So, you trapped me on your plane?”
There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Yes, I suppose so.”
His answer was infuriating.
And worse, there was a tiny part, deep inside me, that was sort of excited by what he’d done.
I stood in the center of the cabin, surrounded by oversized white chairs that were wrapped in soft leather, and an Osterh?gen logo danced on the screen of one of the built-in monitors. Every inch of this aircraft screamed luxury and expense.
Shawn watched the hurried rise and fall of my chest but pretended he was indifferent. That he didn’t care how displeased he’d made me, even though it obviously mattered to him. He’d taken a big risk and was hoping it—meaning me—wasn’t going to blow up in his face.
He lowered into the chair closest to us and motioned for me to sit beside him, but I stood in defiance, towering over him.
If I sat, I knew this would be the last time I’d be in a position of power. I should run. Demand they open the door, and I’d take a later flight just to spite him.
It was like he could read my mind, and his tone was surprisingly genuine. “No strings with this one.”
Victoria emerged with a tray carrying two glasses of water in fancy goblets and a tumbler half full with bourbon and ice.
Shawn snapped up his glass and promptly drained the entire thing like he couldn’t get it down fast enough.
Something was wrong.
He looked uncomfortable. Nervous.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He hesitated. “I don’t enjoy flying.”
“You don’t—? Really?” I could hardly believe it, a CEO of an international company who was a nervous flier.
“Yes, it’s only the takeoffs.” He checked to make sure there wasn’t any bourbon left in his glass. “And the landings.”
“And everything in between?”
He gave me a tight smile. “Join me.” There was a hint of desperation. “Distract me.”
Victoria hadn’t batted an eye when he’d slammed his drink. She exchanged his now empty glass for a goblet of water before handing the other to me. “Can you take your seat, please?”
I stared at the empty one beside him.
Eight hours on a private jet with a subdued Shawn . . . that could work. Plus, he looked tired and like he’d probably sleep most of the trip. I shouldn’t let him scare me off. Shouldn’t give him that kind of power.
Fine.
I sighed and dropped into the buttery leather of the seat, clutching my chilled glass.
He stretched out his long legs, relaxing. “Thanks for telling L that I kissed you.”
I was mid-gulp and choked on my water. Perhaps mentioning that on the phone call to Laurel last night hadn’t been the best idea.
“Don’t worry,” he continued. “I filled in the gaps on the story she got.”
Oh, no. I had conveniently left out the part where we’d made out the entire ride to my hotel. “What did she say?”
“She told me to leave you alone.”
“To which you responded by canceling my ticket and forcing me onto your plane.”
A smile teased his lips. “I’ve never been to Maastricht.”
My pulse spiked. “Why would you go there?”
“To make sure you get in safe. It’s practically on the way home for me.”
Who’d taught him geography? “No, it’s not. No.”
Victoria flitted through the cabin, double-checking the hatch was secure and everything stowed as the plane set in motion. Confident Shawn disappeared. His gaze fixed forward and he looked tense. It was unsettling.
“We’re completely safe,” I said.
“I know that, logically, but it’s a control thing.”
He was all about control, just like Paul. “You let your driver drive you around.”
“Because I, like most of the drivers in New York, have no idea how to drive in that city.” He subtly tightened his seat belt when the engines ramped up.
“Yeah, I don’t miss that, the traffic was—”
“Tell me about Paul now.”
How did he do that? I constantly underestimated my opponent. My guard was down, thinking he was too preoccupied with his fear to launch an attack. But maybe this was a good thing. Get it over with quickly, and if he pressed me, I’d go silent the rest of the flight.
I disliked talking about my divorce for many reasons, but the biggest one was embarrassment. Not so much over the divorce itself, but that I’d just chosen so terribly. That I’d once believe Paul was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
God, I’d been such a fool.
The plane rocketed down the runway, rumbling as it went along, Shawn’s tension increasing as the plane’s nose lifted into the air.
“Paul doesn’t love me,” I said. “I’m not sure he ever did.”
That comment must have been distracting because his brown eyes studied me. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he said it was too much work to love me.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
The wings carried us up, the ground gone from beneath the wheels. He had one hand in his lap balled in a fist, and for a split second I wondered if it was the ascent or my words that caused this.
“Do you still love him?”
“No. I mean, part of me will always care about him, even though he’s selfish and controlling.
” My fingertips toyed with the edges of my seatbelt.
“Some men claim they want an independent woman, but what they really want . . . is to break an independent woman. And once they’ve done it, once they’ve succeeded—the thrill is over. They lose interest and move on.”
He peered at me and didn’t argue or tell me I was wrong. Maybe he knew it was true. Perhaps he’s one of these men, my mind warned. I frowned at the thought.
He was simply quiet for a long while.
When the plane leveled out, he began to look better and more dangerous. He confirmed my suspicions when he took the half-empty glass of water from my hand and set it down on the small table beside us.
“Tell me about the sex.”
“Excuse me?” I said, hushed.
“You heard me. You agreed to tell me about his problem.”
“It was our problem, and I’m not going to talk about it.”
“Bullshit. What was it?”
Anger made my blood pump faster. “Forget it.”
“Did it get too kinky? Too weird? Or did you lose interest?”
Heat burned my face, and I knew I was turning red. “We were incompatible.”
“Incompatible?” Confusion flooded his expression. “Incompatible, how?”
I curled my eyes down to slits. He must have realized he’d reached the edge and shouldn’t push me any further because he softened.
“The incompatibility is on his end,” he declared. “We proved that yesterday.”
I drew in a sharp breath at the memory, and it didn’t go unnoticed. His eyes lit up with opportunity.
“I thought we were quite compatible, didn’t you?”
I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. “Please, enough.”
When he didn’t respond, I gave him a sideways look. He looked at me like he was evaluating how much further he should push.
“Is that what you want?” He sounded resigned. “For me to stop? Be honest.”
How could I give him an honest answer when I didn’t know myself?
I was desired by this man, and that feeling was addicting.
He was annoying. Unbelievably handsome. Successful, and .
. . experienced. He could probably screw me without getting his feelings involved and, judging by the twenty minutes in his back seat, it would be enjoyable for both of us.
But there was no way I could tangle with Shawn and not come out the other side a total mess. Separating the emotion from the act was impossible. Plus, I didn’t need to complicate Laurel’s relationship with her husband or his brother.
The cautious side of me, which typically was in control, was adamant we should stop.
But the other, selfish side? It wasn’t ready to shut the door on what he could offer. Paul had made me feel undesirable, like I was inferior.
I didn’t feel that way with Shawn. Not now, and not in the back seat. Out of control? Yes. But I’d felt equal. As if I were a worthy opponent.
“I want you to,” I swallowed thickly, “slow down.”
It was a small death, for I knew how he would interpret my answer. I’d just confirmed what he’d been telling me all along, that I did want him. Even at twenty thousand feet in the air, I could feel the ground shift beneath me as any remaining power I had went to him.
“Look at me,” he requested, and I obeyed. “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. But slowing down isn’t something I’m capable of. I only have one—”
“Is there a blanket?” I asked.
He looked derailed. “I’m sorry?”
“I’d like to pretend to sleep so I don’t have to talk to you, and I’m cold.”
His stunned silence lasted a single heartbeat. “We don’t have to talk anymore.”
He moved too fast. A hand slipped into my hair and pulled my face to his, and he was kissing me before it could register what had happened.
His lips moved with mine, and heat spread down from his mouth, filling my body with smoke.
I let him part my lips with his tongue and explore with no resistance.
I had no control; it was all his. And it should have bothered me, but it didn’t.
His kiss made me go boneless, and I worried I was going to melt into the seat.
But he ended the kiss just as I reached for him, craving more.
“Victoria?” he said. The attendant reappeared from behind a divider. “Kara would like a blanket, please.”
Not that I needed it now. His kiss had left me feverish, and he seemed well aware, passing the soft blanket to me with a smug expression.
It was made worse when I couldn’t figure out how to recline the seat and he leaned over, activating the lever, his gaze locked on mine as he lowered my seat almost flat.
Once it was converted into a bed, I threw the blanket over myself and turned away from him in a huff.
If he weren’t watching me, I would have marveled at the seat.
How could I go back to flying economy now?
Shawn had ruined it for me.
And I had the terrible feeling that wasn’t all he was going to ruin.