Cassandra O’Leary - Girl on a Plane - A sexy, sassy, holiday read

How depressing. She pulled her shoulders back and marched herself back into the cabin and got to work.

Somehow, the crew got through the next three hours of increasing turbulence, pitching and rolling. Sinead had handed out nearly the whole stock of sick bags, and that distinctive smell was getting to her. Passengers were whinging and she’d caught a coffee pot that had nearly bonked Yuki on the head in the galley.

Sinead was walking down the aisle handing out hot towels when a hand shot out and grabbed her hip. She froze. Goosebumps raced down her arms. Not the good kind of goosebump. The creepy kind. She stepped back a pace so the man’s hand dropped away.

“Darlin’, how about you get a bloke an extra blanket and come keep me warm?” It was the heckler, making his presence known again. His speech was slurred. They’d cut off the booze earlier but he’d only gotten stroppy. He’d yelled at poor Deanna until her eyes went watery, close to tears.

She took a closer look at him. Bald shiny head, red-rimmed eyes and even redder nose. His suit was shiny at the knees and elbows. He was the type of passenger she hated, who used a first-class ticket as a pass to act entitled and obnoxious.

She gritted her teeth then called up her nice-as-pie expression. “Of course. Wait a moment.”

A grinding noise and a dip in the plane to match had her stumbling down the aisle again. Little bubbles of nervousness rose to the surface of her mind, then popped and disappeared.

He was standing by the bar at the rear of the cabin, watching her again. Mr Anderson. Her mind blanked. Blue, blue eyes stared back at her. Blue as a summer sky over a tropical island. His gaze was as warm and decadent. Yuki was right, he was gorgeous. She could feel his eyes on her as she swayed on down the aisle to the storage cupboards near the restrooms.

Next thing she knew, the heckler was there. Banging against the closed restroom door a few paces away from where she stood with an armful of blankets. He rattled the lock until she feared it would snap.

She stepped away from the cupboard and turned to see what he was doing. “Excuse me, do you need some assistance?”

But it was too late. With a loud crack, the heckler pulled the restroom door clear off its hinges. He staggered back, the door in his two-handed grip, then he fell on his arse. The door clonked him on the head, good and hard.

Her hand flew to her mouth, it was hard not to laugh, but she held it back. She pressed her lips together tightly and popped her armful of blankets on the floor before offering a helping hand.

“Oh, sir, are you alright?” She bent forward and tried to drag the door off him. The door didn’t budge. It was heavier than it looked, and kind of wedged between the walls of the small space. The heckler grunted, legs flailing about. It served him right. She wished she could leave him there, but that wouldn’t do.

Then he was there. Mr Blonde CEO, Too Hot To Handle, Anderson. He wrenched the door off the prone man, as if it weighed nothing at all, and leaned it against the wall beside her. Then he dusted off his hands and managed to still look perfect in his swanky suit. All in a day’s work, apparently. There was grumbling from the man on the floor as he sat up, but she was staring at the helpful passenger.

“You okay?” Mr Anderson’s forehead crinkled attractively.

She blinked, wondering if it was appropriate to thank him for being handsome. “Ah, yes, thank you.”

“Good.” He nodded once and sauntered back to his seat.

An odd one, Mr CEO To The Rescue. Surprisingly helpful, if a little un-talkative. With an arse she’d like to sink her teeth into. Oh, Lord . He was definitely a distraction she didn’t need.

The heckler had got up on his feet, stumbling towards the restroom further down in Economy. At least he was out of her hair for a while.

She faced the gaping hole of a doorway, the restroom on display. What was she going to do? People would still need to use the facilities, and she couldn’t see how she’d re-attach the door mid-flight. She didn’t exactly carry Superglue or an electric drill around. All she had handy was a pack of Hollywood tape. While it might keep her boobs in place in a low-cut dress, it probably wouldn’t do the trick on a six foot door.

Out of the corner of her eye she spied Damian, standing back down the aisle, pretending to tidy up with a garbage bag in hand. He’d no doubt been watching the shenanigans, but had avoided helping her. Time for him to do some actual work.

Her quick hand signal meant get over here now, lazy bones . He raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows in that insolent way of his. But he strolled over to her, taking his sweet time.

“Here, Damian. I need a big strong man. But you’ll have to do. Hold this door for me.” She shoved it towards him and he caught it awkwardly, stumbling back a step.

His head snapped from side to side, looking at her, then the door. “But, what? How long for?”

“Until the flight’s on the ground, I expect. Hold it in place when someone needs the loo. Good man.”

Before he could close his gaping mouth or refuse, she’d left him to it. One more problem dealt with. She almost tripped over the blankets by her feet, so she grabbed them and headed towards the heckler’s seat. She left him a couple of blankets to head off further complaints.

On her way to catch up with Yuki, who was checking the luggage was secure in the overhead compartments, Sinead heard a tiny wail like a trapped kitten. Then she spotted him. Poor little man . The baby boy with his lone Mummy. She was standing and jiggling him in the aisle, bub draped over her shoulder. The wails grew louder, and his face was red and blotchy. The mother caught Sinead’s eye as she was about to pass her.

“Here, take little Jack.” The woman shoved the baby at Sinead, none too gently. “I need the bathroom.”

Sinead grabbed for him, tucking him into the crook of her neck, one hand under his tiny onesie-clad bottom. “Sure, happy to help.” It was part of her job, doing whatever was needed to help the first-class passengers. Anyway, she quite liked getting to cuddle the babies.

Baby Jack’s cries grew piercing as the plane dipped. She clutched the little one close, his face nuzzled into her neck. The soft and sweet smell of baby actually soothed her, while she tried to soothe him. Her belly lurched and her ears popped painfully with the sudden change in air pressure. Horrible to an adult, aware of the situation, let alone a tiny child. On cue, he let out an earth-shattering wail.

Sinead shooshed and spoke softly. “It’s all right, little man. Your Mummy will be back in no time.”

She kissed the top of baby Jack’s head, downy hair tickling her nose. She giggled and patted him on the back in a slow rhythm. Raising her head, her gaze connected with a certain gorgeous CEO a few metres away. Watching her. Again. Eyes alight but darker now, if such a thing were possible. His face was flushed, a touch of pink across his cheeks. She could’ve sworn he was interested in her.

Something warmed deep inside her belly. She found she didn’t mind his attention at all. It was nice to be appreciated. Her lips stretched upwards and she blinked.

He clenched his jaw so a muscle twitched near his ear, then shifted his gaze away.

Okay then . Not so interested. It didn’t matter. What would she do with a man like him? A series of naughty images flicked through her mind before she woke up to herself, with a tap on her shoulder.

Baby Jack’s mother was back and Sinead handed him over. “He’s a treasure.”

The elegant woman’s formerly tense expression softened. She actually grinned. “Thanks so much, I think so.”