SIX | Whisked Away | Tinsley
SIX
Whisked Away
Tinsley
M itt had Albert make a brief stop at my place. He told me to grab the bare minimum and ensure I had a valid passport along with my ID. He’d take care of everything else. I had listened, but I was on edge, relying on someone I barely knew. But marriage was a leap of faith, and I had to learn to trust my husband-to-be.
“Where are we going?” I asked as soon as I got back into Mitt’s limousine.
“You’ll see.”
Mitt, a man of many mysteries—I had learned that much—had us headed to an unknown destination. Nighttime was in the air as we hit a highway, and I saw several signs for the airport passing by. I watched out the window as the moon lit up the sky behind the clouds and a light snowfall swept on by. My eyes grew heavy and with each passing car, it was harder to keep them open.
My head slowly tilted to the side and fell onto Mitt’s shoulder. “It’s all right, angel. Rest your eyes. We’ll be there soon.”
And everything went dark.
A SUDDEN JOLT PULLED me out of a deep sleep, and I sat up. “What’s happened?”
“We’re here,” Mitt answered.
“Where?” I asked as I searched around and locked eyes with Mitt.
“At the airport.”
Still a man of few words.
“Really? At this hour?” I questioned with a groan and glanced at the time on my cell phone. “Shouldn’t we get a hotel room?”
Mitt chuckled. “Slow down, angel. As much as I wish to get you into bed, we have a wedding to attend.”
I blushed. “We’d get separate rooms, of course.”
Mitt touched along my cheek, and I burned even brighter with the realization I had drooled in my slumber. My immediate embarrassment had me swiping the saliva away. He granted me with a wickedly handsome grin and more butterflies in my stomach took flight. This man got to me more than I cared to admit, and he damn well knew it.
Mitt’s lips brushed mine. “No, we wouldn’t. I’m soon to be yours and you’re soon to be mine. We’ll share one bed, and I won’t hear one argument about it.”
Flabbergasted, unable to breathe, Mitt took his lips away before I could even disagree. He left me a bothered mess right in his back seat while he exited the vehicle, and Albert looked down at me. He was possessive, and he made me quiver with want. Shivers of heat coursed through me, and I was hot enough to melt ice with only one touch.
“Ms. Kingsley? Are you all right?” Albert asked, as concern spread across his wise face.
“Yes,” I whispered and got out of the car. “Just a lapse in judgment and a shock to my system.”
My pussy, to be exact, but that was too much information for poor Albert to handle. Poor fella might have a heart attack!
The driver handed over my oversized purse with the little contents I had stuffed inside. He didn’t let go when I pulled on the handle, and I became territorial. I tugged again, but the man had another objective.
A message .
Albert raised an eyebrow at me, and he leaned in close. “Be careful around Mr. Morgan. He’s not at all as he seems.”
Okay. Strange. What was that supposed to mean?
The chauffeur let go of my belongings and kept eye contact with me until I turned away and joined Mitt at his side. The riddle made goosebumps crawl all over my skin, and I gave myself a mental shake to make them go away.
“Is everything fine?” Mitt asked as we walked through the automated sliding glass doors and into the busy airport.
“Yes.” I sighed with a glance back, but Mitt’s driver was gone. “But I hate flying. I can’t stand the cramped seating, expensive food, and long wait times.”
Mitt wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I think you’re going to love my private jet.”
“Private jet? But what about—” my rambling ended with the firm squeeze he gave my shoulder blade.
“We aren’t flying with everyone else,” Mitt explained as he peered down at me with a smile. “We get a flight all to ourselves.”
“Oh, right... I forgot...” I said, with the palm of my hand smacking against my forehead. “You’re rich.”
“Soon you will be too.”
Suddenly, Mitt stopped walking and pulled me in close. His breath mingled with mine as the ground swirled, and he caused a fiery heat to sizzle around us. A barrier no one could break, with only he and I locked away inside. The temperature only grew as his lips sweetly brushed mine and everything faded away.
“That part must have slipped my mind,” I admitted with my eyes aimed at his delicious lips.
“I appreciate how money isn’t an objective for you.”
“No, but having a family is,” I said as my nose grazed his, and I caught the lust swirling in his hazel-hued eyes.
“Kids require sex.”
“Lots of sex,” I almost whimpered into his mouth as he painstakingly parted my lips with his tongue.
I was drunk off his existence, trapped in his universe, and I never wanted to come out.
“Careful, angel, I might hold you to that,” he whispered against my parted mouth, but withdrew while his picture-perfect naked body vanished from my mind. “But first, we have a flight to catch.”
Damn, I let my imagination get the best of me.
Mitt took my purse from my shoulder and carried my belongings. The arousal dissipated inside of me and turned into admiration. Never had a man offered to carry my purse for me. The sight made me softly giggle as I followed closely beside him, but Mitt eyed me.
“What?” Mitt asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t a man help his lady?”
My only answer was a louder giggle, forming into our laughter as we made our way through security, and we didn’t have one issue with bypassing all the lines. Guards greeted Mitt as if he flew out on his jet daily. Maybe he did? After all, I was getting to know the real Mr. Morgan, and there was still much to discover.
“Is everything set?” Mitt asked a man walking alongside him.
“Yes,” he answered as he pushed open a door and the chilly winter bit at my exposed skin.
Mitt peered outside. “And the weather?”
Through the swirling snow, I saw a jet on the tarmac, engines running, with lights blinking on the outside. The aircraft steps opened, and men from far away moved to get everything ready. But my palms grew sweaty while searching through the squall that was close to being a white out.
“Yes. What about the storm?” I questioned nervously.
“Radar shows we are clear for takeoff. A storm is approaching, but if you don’t leave now, you won’t be leaving tonight.”
Mitt put down my purse and took off his jacket. “Here.”
He placed his warmth over my shoulders, adding an extra layer of protection against the bitter chill from outside. His woodsy scent engulfed me and clouded my better judgment, not giving me a moment more to look back on my decision and leave the way we came. I could always get a taxi back into the city and leave all of this behind me. But when Mitt’s hand took mine, I found myself running through the snowy night with him, the incoming storm nipping at our asses.
Snowflakes coated my face and made my hair damp as we boarded Mitt’s private jet. We breathed hard, close to panting, when Mitt met my eyes, and we smiled like love-sick fools at each other. He let out a deep chuckle as he wiped my face with his warm hands, and I watched snowflakes moisten, dripping down his toasty skin. His brown hair almost appeared black from the dampness it had gathered from Mother Nature whirling outside.
“Mr. Morgan, please have you and your guest find your seats. We’re preparing for takeoff,” a flight attendant said, her dark hair pinned up in a bun, and she wore a freshly pressed below-the-knee dress.
She took my oversized purse from Mitt and placed it under the seat Mitt pointed out to me—a comfortable beige lounge chair with recline seating, and he took his jacket from my shoulders. I fell into the leather as I peered out the window and couldn’t believe I was doing this. My hands fumbled with the seatbelt and Mitt helped me, locking it into place and finding his seat beside mine.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Anything for my bride,” Mitt breathed with a reassuring smile and strapped himself in.
“Good evening to my wonderful passengers, about to embark on their journey of wedded bliss. Please fasten your seatbelts because we will take off momentarily and have a four-hour flight to snowy Colorado,” the pilot spoke throughout the cabin.
The flight attendant glanced at us. Her eyes ensured all safety precautions were taken for us, and we were ready for departure. But I was quaking inside like an earthquake before a massive tsunami hit.
“We’re going to Colorado?” I shrieked.
Mitt answered with his voice sounding a million miles away. “Yes. Colorado is the only place where we can get married on such short notice.”
Had I lost my mind?