5. There are No Excuses for Skipping your Skincare Routine
5
THERE ARE NO EXCUSES FOR SKIPPING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE
Wrong.
Hanna was very wrong in thinking that she could avoid the inconvenient attraction she felt towards Noah.
Especially not with them sitting side-by-side in an enclosed space for over ten hours.
First class might have more space than economy, but not enough to separate her from the subtle hints of fresh soap that drifted from Noah’s side of the divider.
Distracted while getting everyone else settled into their seats, and assuring Lillian several times that no one was going to steal her bag from the overhead bin, Hanna missed Noah stowing her bag and sliding into his seat.
The seat that, with a quick glance at her ticket, happened to be directly next to hers.
Great.
Now she would have to keep her guard up for the duration of the flight.
It was one of the reasons she preferred traveling separate from her groups whenever possible.
Sitting two rows behind them meant that it was more likely they would come get her–potentially catching her sleeping with her mouth open–if they needed something.
Hanna wondered if Noah planned it that way, hoping to catch her diabolical plotting.
“Champagne?” A smiling flight attendant offered from behind, jolting Hanna back into the moment, where she realized with a pang of embarrassment that she was still standing in the aisle.
Being in the way, particularly of someone trying to do their job, was something Hanna strove to avoid at all costs.
She hated being an inconvenience.
See , her brain tried to warn her, being around Noah is already causing problems. Quickly placing her backpack down so that she could step into the seating area, Hanna’s gaze caught on the subject of her wayward thoughts.
Over the small side table and half-wall that separated them, Noah was frowning, eyebrows pulled tight as fathomless blue eyes clocked the tray of champagne flutes before landing on Hanna.
The stick in the mud probably frowned at the idea of drinking so early in the day.
Not that she overly indulged around guests anyways, but they were flying to Paris, where day drinking was practically a hobby.
Besides, it was not like Hazel never saw her drink.
The woman was often the instigator for ordering multiple bottles of wine with a group, affectionately teasing Hanna for only having one glass.
Struck with the impulsive desire to ruffle Noah’s feathers, Hanna turned to the flight attendant with a warm smile and accepted a proffered glass.
Before setting it down on her table, Hanna raised it slightly towards Noah and took a small sip.
His mouth tightened in a thin line before he adjusted in his seat, bending to retrieve something from his bag.
A petty victory, but it had Hanna smiling nonetheless.
Once they were safely at ten-thousand feet, her laptop came out and Hanna spent the first hours of the flight managing client inquiries and trips through her website.
Flying was like existing in a time warp, where minutes seemed both condensed and stretched into forever.
Solidifying reservations and inputting the details into the itineraries for several groups, Hanna blinked in surprise when she checked the flight map and saw that it was time for lunch.
Used to the physical demands of tours, Hanna forgot how much her body protested sitting for long hours.
Her legs were stiff and her ass felt flat as a compacted box, tingling with needle-like pricks as she shifted in the seat.
She really needed to set a timer or something to remember to move when work absorbed her focus.
Stretching her neck and shoulders to get the blood flowing back to her stiff muscles, Hanna let out a soft groan when she got to a particularly sore area.
Damn.
Maybe not so soft when a chuckle came from her left.
“Okay over there?” Noah had a book open in his lap, a finger holding his place on the page.
Hanna found herself curious to know what type of reading material he enjoyed.
Probably something infinitely dull and serious, like finance.
Twisting in her seat to stretch her back and face him, Hanna replied, “Just not a fan of sitting for hours on end. Nothing some movement and stretching cannot solve.”
Noah watched her carefully, giving away nothing of the thoughts behind his eyes.
“That makes sense for your job. You seemed pretty absorbed in what you were doing.”
The statement sounded more like a question, as if Noah wanted to know what she was working on but did not want to outright ask.
“Work has a way of doing that,” Hanna answered with a small laugh.
Thick eyebrows curved down.
“I thought everything was booked for our tour?”
“It is. This was for other groups.”
Noah’s frown deepened.
“Other groups? You’re planning other trips while on ours?”
So much for his apparent shift in attitude towards her.
It sounded like he was accusing her of not giving her full attention to them.
That bothered Hanna.
When she was with a group, all her focus was on them.
Getting them what they needed and what they never realized they wanted.
They were paying for her time and expertise, and Hanna always delivered.
What she did in the few hours that were hers alone was no one’s business but her own.
Rushing to defend herself, Hanna kept her voice low due to the close proximity of other passengers.
“No, I am planning other trips while confined to a plane. Unless you want me to get up and give your grandmother and her friends a tour of the first-class cabin, I thought I would use my free time however I saw fit. Rest assured, once we land my time and energy are dedicated to your group, and my other clients know that.”
“Hanna, I didn’t–”
Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of their food and drinks.
Oblivious to the tension between them, or ignoring it, the flight attendants asked them if there was anything else they could bring.
Taking the opportunity to slip away while Noah asked a question, Hanna escaped to the lavatory to wash her hands and gather her thoughts.
She thought they declared a truce, and though Noah largely stayed out of the planning process after their meeting, it seemed like his attitude towards her ability to do her job had not wavered.
Hanna thought they were making progress, their phone conversations about hobbies and interests bringing them closer to understanding each other as people, not just as client and guide.
Dabbing some water on her heated neck, Hanna knew that she could not let him get a rise out of her.
The last thing she wanted was Hazel or her friends to catch her arguing with Noah.
The review practically wrote itself, Unprofessional and ill-tempered.
Difficult to work with.
Resolved to keep to her side of their partition and raise the divider, Hanna returned to her seat.
Only to find Noah waiting for her.
“I’m sorry.” He offered her a small plate of chocolates.
With a resigned sigh, Hanna took the plate and sat down.
“Noah, you don’t have to–”
“Please.” Picking up the chocolate dusted with gold shavings, Hanna nodded for him to continue.
Something about his earnest expression had her anger melting.
“If I learned anything from talking with you the last few weeks, it’s that you care deeply for all your groups. My question came from a place of curiosity over how your business is run, not a commentary on your work ethic or integrity. I know we are still learning to trust each other and I apologize that it came out harsher than intended.”
Reflecting on what he said, Hanna recognized that she misinterpreted what Noah meant before.
She was used to defending her job and abilities as a businesswoman, and reacted strongly to the perceived slight.
Offering Noah one of the chocolates, Hanna said, “Thank you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions without asking you what you meant. Something to work on.”
Her heart fluttered when he gave her one of his lopsided smiles, their hands brushing as Noah took the chocolate.
When Noah placed the chocolate in his mouth, licking the melted chocolate off his fingers, Hanna’s lungs stopped working.
And the man was not even aware of the effect he had on her, eyes closed as he savored the treat.
Was the air in the cabin getting thinner or was it just Hanna?
Head buzzing, Hanna almost missed his next question, her hyperfixation on his lips signaling her to pay attention as she saw them forming words.
“So, what made you want to become a tour guide?” Apparently finished with dessert, Noah started on his lunch.
Not quite ready to get into the full backstory of her career choice, Hanna decided to give him the abridged version that all her guests received.
“A passion born from necessity, I suppose. I happened to be in the right place at the right time and helped out a tour guide from Trips Ahoy, who was impressed enough that they told me to apply for the job. One trip in and I fell in love. What about you?”
“I’m surprised my grandmother did not already tell you, I run the family company.”
That made sense.
Despite not knowing him long, Hanna could tell that Noah had a deep sense of commitment to his family as well as a sharp mind capable of handling the responsibilities of running a company.
“So we both run companies. Who would have guessed that we have something in common?”
Noah looked at her for a moment, staring deep into her eyes.
“I guess we do.”
Neither of them looked away, and Hanna could swear she saw a pleased glint in his eyes, the idea of them finding common ground breaking down a barrier of distrust so that she could see his deeper thoughts.
With their tables on opposite sides of the same wall, they were forced close together and Hanna could see Noah’s pupils dilate, blue disappearing beneath black.
It was the only outward sign that their proximity affected him and Hanna felt her pulse race in response.
“Are you finished with your meal?”
Interrupted again by the overly helpful flight attendants.
Noah cleared his throat roughly before shifting back in his seat while Hanna launched herself away from Noah so quickly that she nearly collided with the flight attendant removing her dishes.
Apologizing profusely, Hanna sought a topic of conversation to steer them back onto neutral ground.
“What exactly does your company do?”
Noah regaled her with the ins and outs of owning a natural toiletry and cleaning brand, one he was working to get into international hotel spaces, until the lights began to dim, signaling that it was time to sleep.
Once she could hear Noah’s gentle snores, Hanna let out a sigh of relief.
Finally. The recycled plane air was drying out her skin and the desire to clean off her face was reaching unbearable heights.
Scheduled to arrive in Paris in the afternoon, they would spend a few hours sightseeing before making their way to the hotel to retire before dinner, and Hanna needed to look just as refreshed getting off the plane as she did getting on.
Anyone who wore makeup knew there was nothing less appealing than clogging your pores with day-old makeup.
But, she had to wait until there was no chance of her guests seeing her before cleaning her face.
Retrieving her small bag of toiletries, Hanna made her way to the lavatory to brush her teeth and complete as thorough of a skin care routine as one could while in a confined space–where one did not want any of their personal items touching the shared countertop.
Her hydrating face and eye masks could wait until she was back in her seat.
Unwilling to turn on the light in case it woke Noah, Hanna opened a fresh pair of under-eye masks, the slippery material sliding against her fingers…
And landing on the floor.
Tipping her head back with a silent groan, Hanna leaned forward to retrieve the trash–and shed a silent tear for the wasted product–before slamming her head into the tray table.
“Shit!”
Well, she definitely could have been quieter, but damn that hurt.
Hanna glanced around to see if the noise disturbed anyone.
Apart from the stern look an older businessman was giving her across the aisle–as if he had any room to judge considering his light was shining in people’s faces–it seemed like Hanna was in the clear.
Thank goodness. She worried for a moment that the sound and concurrent vibration of the table would disturb her seatmate, but it appeared not.
“You okay?”
The light next to her switched on as Noah’s grumbling voice reached her ears.
Wow, she really did not need to know how he sounded when he first woke up.
Rough and sleepy. It filled her brain with images of him stretching in soft sheets, turning towards her with a smile as morning light highlighted the carved muscle of his-
Nope.
Stop that train of thought immediately , Hanna warned herself.
She kept her head tilted away from the overhead light as she whispered, “Yep! Just a minor impact with the table. Nothing to worry about.”
“Really? It sounded like you hit your head pretty hard. Here, let me check to make sure you aren’t bleeding.”
A shadow of an arm moved in her peripheral vision and Hanna panicked, worried what his touch would do to her.
Forgetting about her makeup-free face, Hanna turned to face him.
“No need! See? Perfectly fine.” She moved her head side to side as if that would illustrate her point.
“Just go back to sleep. I am sorry that I woke you.”
Compared to the rest of the dimly lit cabin, their seats were cocooned in a halo of light.
Above the divider, Noah stared at her, his face partially shadowed.
Hanna watched as his eyes tracked across her face, checking her over for injury.
As he looked, a small wrinkle formed between his brows, a feature Hanna was beginning to notice appeared often.
Blue eyes followed the waves of her hair, sliding down before journeying up, pausing on her lips, then cheeks, and finally her eyes.
In sync, a blush made its way up Hanna’s throat and face, as if her blood was called to the surface of her skin by his lingering attention.
She hoped that enough of her was shadowed to hide the red stain on her skin.
The longer he stared without speaking, the more Hanna wanted to fidget.
Was she bleeding? Was there something gross on the underside of the table that was now wedged in her hair?
Averting her gaze to discreetly run a hand through her hair, Hanna’s eyes caught on the open package that lay on the floor after being dropped again when she hit her head.
Oh, no. Anything but this.
Pulse hammering as awareness rushed through her body, Hanna squeezed her eyes shut to avoid reality for a moment.
But when she opened them and saw her reflection on the television screen, her makeup-free face was staring back at her.
No wonder he was looking at her strangely.
“Please pretend like this never happened.”
Noah tilted his head in confusion.
“Why not?”
Grimacing from the continued embarrassment, Hanna explained, “This isn’t exactly the way I want my guests to see me. Not really the perfect, Tour Guide Barbie people want.” Her laugh sounded brittle to her ears.
Much like her clothing, Hanna wore makeup like armor, feeling unkept and almost naked when someone saw her without it on.
Sans makeup, Hanna was told that she looked like a child.
Not the professional image she wanted to project.
Noah’s face softened in understanding, his chest rising and falling in a heavy breath before he straightened and looked at her with dark eyes.
“I see you, and I don’t want a perfect, cookie-cutter tour guide. Remember, I asked you to be yourself, whoever that is. If you really want, I will not bring it up again. But, Hanna?”
The light shut off.
“It’s my turn to be honest. The reason I was staring was not because I thought there was something wrong with you. I was admiring how utterly breathtaking you are. With or without makeup, you are perfect exactly as you are.”
True to his promise to not bring it up again, Noah turned over in his bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin and falling asleep moments later.
Hanna frowned at the darkened seat next to hers, wondering if Noah was trying to catch her off-guard by saying something sweet.
There had to be an ulterior motive to his compliment.
He did not trust her.
Right? Unless their weekly phone calls leading up to the trip softened Noah’s gruff exterior.
Turning over in her own chair, Hanna resolutely decided not to dwell on it.
That line of thinking only led to confusion.
Long after Hanna finished her mid-flight facial and reclined her seat for sleep, Noah’s words continued to dance through her brain, repeating over and over like the newest Sabrina Carpenter song.
Until finally, the whispered remnants of breathtaking and as you are pulled her into a dreamless sleep.