Chapter One
Audrey
I don’t know what is so deliciously naughty about reading an erotic romance while flying high at 35,000 feet, but I like it. The only thing that makes it better is sitting in first class where the majority of the people are pretending to be too classy and refined to dare to peek at the pages of a smutty book while they’re secretly jealous of my freedom in doing what I want when I want to do it.
I lean back and give a good stretch before nestling back into the mostly comfortable oversized leather seat, one hand holding my Kindle, the other curled around an acceptable glass of cabernet. It’s almost blissful. It’s all going beautifully until turbulence hits.
“Crap!” I call out as my hand jerks, my wine flying from my glass in a perfect arc... and splashing directly into the lap of the unfortunate man in the seat beside me. I turn and look, noticing it’s not just any lap, but what appears to be an expensive lap clothed in a custom suit that clearly didn’t come off of a mall rack.
Horror fills me as my mouth gapes open momentarily and I reach for a napkin. “I’m so very sorry,” I whisper, horrified, knowing all eyes have turned my way. If they weren’t judging me for what I’ve been reading, they’re clearly judging me now. I’m sure they’re also grateful they weren’t the unfortunate ones to be seated beside me.
Thankfully, the man is looking down, not meeting my gaze. He doesn’t appear the least bit flustered as we both gaze at the deep blue of his tailored pants, now containing a prominent burgundy stain that seems to be spreading. How much wine was left in my dang glass?
He slowly looks up, his beautiful head tilting, his voice rich, filled with amusement. “I didn’t expect to get wet this early into the flight while it’s still light out, but I have no complaints.”
It takes a few quiet, breathless moments for his words to register. Did I just hear what I think I heard, or have I been reading too much smut? I’m not even sure.
I blink several times as I meet his incredibly expressive eyes. “Excuse me?” I can feel my cheeks heating. What in the world is happening right now? This is supposed to be a quiet, non-eventful flight.
As much as I want to turn away from him, I can’t seem to. His grin is nothing short of roguish. He leans a bit closer to me, his voice lowering even deeper into something that seems to be a mix of whiskey... and a hell of a lot of trouble. I’ve known a few men this dangerous in my life, and the wisest thing a woman can do is run... and run fast.
“You were so engrossed in the book you’re reading that I’m not surprised one of us got wet,” he says, his green eyes holding mine captive. He then pointedly looks at my reader, and there’s no doubt he’s glanced over at least once. Has he read any of the words? I just finished a pretty descriptive sex scene. This thought makes me blush. I never blush, so I don’t know what to think of this.
I take a deep breath, clear my throat, then decide to hold my own. I’ve never been one to hide my head in the sand. “Well, I guess I owe you a new pair of pants.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve gotten wet more than once in my life. It’s well worth a ruined pair of pants.” He winks. I can’t help it, I laugh. This man is charming... and he knows it. I’m sure he’s used to women eating out of his hands. Then again, he hasn’t met a woman like me before. I can give back as good as I get, if not better. As a matter of fact, I intimidate most men, making dating incredibly difficult. There’s nothing I despise more than weak men. That’s saying something since there are plenty of things I don’t like, such as sardines. Those little fish are absolutely disgusting.
When I was a kid, my best friend was staying over and Gramps decided to order a sardine pizza. Of course, we had to try it. I went first. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever tasted, but I held it together because if I had shown my horror, the bestie wouldn’t have taken a bite, and I wasn’t suffering this trauma alone. I gave her a thumbs-up, waited until she took a bite, then spit mine out as soon as it was in her mouth. We’re both still traumatized to this day. So, the fact that weak men are my biggest hang-up truly is saying something.
I give the man a smile. “Glad you’re taking it well.” Before I realize what a bad idea it is, I reach over and try to lap up some of the wine on my napkin, my hand far too intimate without even thinking about it. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch as I look down. The cloth is soaked when I pull back and look into his eyes.
He’s smiling even wider now as my gaze is once again captured by his stunning green eyes. “I’m more than well,” he tells me, his voice a bit husky, making me realize what I’ve done. I pull fully back. There’s a difference between a bit of flirting and actual manhandling, not that he seems to mind. This might be a really long flight because this man is clearly dangerous.
I lean back, tucking my hands safely into my lap. I take another breath before looking his way again. The man truly is attractive, far more than average, with slightly mussed brown hair, a chiseled jaw with a hint of stubble, and absolute confidence in his bright green eyes, like he’s seen it all, done it more than once, and made it look easy.
I can’t stand the silence. “Why are you on this flight?” I ask, pleased when my voice comes out normally. With how hard my heart’s beating, I’d think my voice would be low and breathy. Luckily, I’ve always been good at keeping my composure in tense situations. I actually thrive on adrenaline fueled moments, hating to be bored.
“I’m traveling for business.” He pauses as he holds out his hand. “Wolf Young.”
My lips turn up as I wait for him to correct himself, thinking he’s joking. It takes a few seconds before I realize he isn’t. This is his name... I think.
“That’s your real name?” I know the words sound skeptical. There’s a tiny bit of wine left in my glass. I lift it to my lips and finish it. Better to be safe than sorry, and neither of us needs any more accidents.
“Yep, since the day I was born. Guess my mother had a sense of humor.” He pauses again as a wolfish smile shapes his full lips. “Or maybe she just felt something primal in me from the moment I was conceived.” I nearly choke. A chuckle escapes as I shake my head.
He once again leans toward me, a bit too close for comfort. At least in the first-class seats, we have a small barrier between us, unlike the seats in coach. I’ve never been more grateful to be seated where I am.
“What about you, mysterious bookworm? Is there a name to go with your pink cheeks and quick hands?”
“Quick hands?” I ask, my brow arching.
“You were quick to aim straight for my... spill zone,” he says with what I’m discovering as his trademark sexy grin. I laugh once more. I can’t seem to help myself with this stranger. I’m enjoying his company more than reading my book. This, again, says a lot.
“I’m Audrey Beach,” I tell him, finally accepting his hand. The zap between us is noticeable, and I’m sure he feels it too. That doesn’t mean anything, though. This is simply some harmless flirting before we go our separate ways to never see each other again. “I normally don’t share wine.”
“Audrey,” he slowly says, as if he’s tasting it on his tongue. “I like it. Classic, beautiful, and slightly mischievous.”
“I fit into more categories than that,” I assure him, not unpleased about his assessment.
The man looks at me so intensely I feel like every secret I have is being dissected. It’s an odd feeling since most people would conclude that I’m very difficult to decipher.
“Tell me, Audrey Beach, are you always this confident?”
I counter him. “Are you always this bold?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Only when I’m intrigued.”
“You, Mr. Young, are clearly used to women melting at your feet,” I tell him. This isn’t a question. It’s fact, and we both know it.
He shrugs, not even trying to run away from my comment. “I don’t often end up with wet pants unless I’ve intended to all along.”
“For such a confident man, I’d think you’d have better lines,” I tell him. “You might be losing some of your swagger in your older years.” He’s not old, but I know this is a reverse ego stroke for a lot of men afraid of aging. He laughs, not shocking me. I don’t know if this man is capable of thinking an insult could possibly be thrown his way.
“I haven’t lost a thing, sweetheart. My swag grows even more appealing day by day.” He leans a tad closer, his playfulness turning a little more serious. “I also only play at games I intend to win.”
“I feel exactly the same,” I tell him, not willing to back down. I’m not sure what game we’re playing, though. I don’t intend on this leading to anything. I’m also having enough fun, at the same time, to keep the conversation going.
“Why are you flying to Florida?” he asks.
I hesitate for only a moment. Telling the truth can’t hurt anything. “I’m going for work. I’m a freelance writer exploring hidden gems, unique destinations, and places that are off the beaten path. People tend to only go to places known to the world, which is a shame, so I like to do features on places people wouldn’t normally find but will fall in love with once they arrive.”
“I like an adventurous woman,” he says, his eyes taking a moment to roam over me, not necessarily in a sexual way, but more like he’s memorizing everything about me.
“So, you’re traveling for business, but what kind of business is it?” I ask.
“It’s a mix of business and pleasure. I’m meeting with my brothers to check out a property and do some deep-sea fishing. If we take life too seriously, we forget to laugh, which is detrimental to our mental health.”
“I like mixing business and pleasure,” I tell him, fully agreeing with his attitude about life. It’s very easy to talk this way to a stranger. I’m well aware that the majority of people lie. They might act like they live free, but very few people actually do. That’s the tragedy in life, being slaves to corporate America, or locked down. Freedom is my independence.
“I especially love it when I’m being charmed by a beautiful woman I’ve been lucky enough to be seated next to,” he tells me. I again notice how smooth this man is, how he can deliver a line with a perfect amount of confidence and an enticing sparkle in his memorable eyes.
“Most men wouldn’t be so comfortable sitting in wet pants for a few hours,” I tell him.
“I’m surprised you haven’t figured out by now that I’m certainly not most men.”
“Oh, that’s more than clear.”
A moment of silence spreads between us as our eyes lock together, the cabin humming around us. I’m certainly playing with fire, but I’ve done it before, all without getting burned. I ignore the voice in the back of my mind telling me this isn’t a normal man I can walk all over. This man has more than confidence; he has power, and it’s the sort that’s been earned, not taken.
“I think you owe me a date after this flight ends,” he tells me, taking his gaze away long enough to glance down at his ruined pants. I chuckle. I do appreciate a person using what’s at his disposal to get his way. It’s clever even if it won’t work on me.
“As incredibly charming as you are, Mr. Young, I won’t be joining you when our flight ends. I’m far too busy.”
His eyes show a brief glint of disappointment, but his confidence isn’t shaken. He might not be used to being turned down, but he’s also a man who doesn’t give up easily. I’ve surprised him but, unfortunately, I’ve also motivated him. Some men like a challenge even if that’s not what I’m trying to throw out to him.
“We still have time for me to change your mind,” he says.
“Nope,” I tell him, my smile not faltering.
His smile grows as he leans back, his gaze not leaving mine. “You certainly intrigue me, Ms. Beach.”
“Just because you’re not used to being turned down, don’t look at this like a challenge,” I warn.
“Women don’t have a reason to turn me down, so, of course, I’m intrigued,” he counters.
My grin grows. “Consider this a free piece of advice,” I say. “A little humility is good for the soul.”
His laughter is genuine as the warm sound washes through me. “You’re truly enjoyable, Audrey.”
“I know. I’m the life of the party,” I tell him. There’s no doubt I’m confident. I like who I am, and I’m surrounded by incredible people in my life. I do have bad days, though, as we all do. Today isn’t one of them.
We’re interrupted by the flight attendant, who brings us food and refreshed drinks, which I’m grateful for. Neither of us eats much of the food, but we continue our conversation as we down our drinks. I feel even lighter as we chat.
Before I realize how much time has passed, the plane begins its descent, making the people around us start to shuffle items around. I start gathering my possessions so I can make a quick exit from the plane. I don’t mind traveling, but I’m always more than ready to stretch my legs when we land. I don’t like being cooped up for too long... even while next to a sexy stranger, though that does help the time pass quickly.
We touch down, and Wolf catches my gaze again, his eyes intense. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to join me for dinner?”
We travel closer to the terminal as I smile at him. “I never accept a first date offer,” I tell him. It’s true. It’s always been my test for men. If I intimidate them so much that they run away with their heads bowed at my rejection, they aren’t someone worth giving my time to.
Wolf doesn’t look at all fazed as he grins. “What you’re telling me is I have a chance.”
I laugh. The plane stops, and I grab my bag and stand, grateful I’m in the aisle seat. I hear the door open. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I tell him with a wink and walk away before he has a chance to gather his items. I quickly walk up the jet bridge as other passengers move behind me. I don’t look back. I don’t want to know if he’s following me. I don’t want to give him the chance to charm me further. I’m too tempted to cave.
It doesn’t take long to get lost in the crowd of traveling passengers in the busy terminal, my heart beating a bit too hard. A part of me thinks this isn’t over, although I don’t see how we’ll possibly run into each other again. I’m a little disappointed, but I assure myself this feeling will pass.
Just because I’ve been intrigued by a man for the first time in forever doesn’t mean it’ll lead to anything. This was merely a fun experience on a flight that might give me a few good dreams. So it was well worth it, spilled wine and all.