Kathy Jay - What If He’s the One

He’d wanted to break the ice ahead of working together. He hadn’t expected to be affected by her. Something about her had changed. Her business-like appearance was a surprise, but it wasn’t that. She was different beneath the surface. Perhaps she still felt strange about that night they’d spent together. He certainly did. There’d been that awkwardness when he’d taken too long to find a condom. In truth, the delay was deliberate. He’d known he and Nick wouldn’t fail the audition. He shouldn’t have been starting something with Maggie. When he’d kissed her the morning after, he’d hoped with all his heart that he’d be back after Christmas and that life would continue like before. Cutting her off seemed obvious at the time, kinder than stringing her along. He couldn’t go back to London, and her coming to LA was out of the question. She was a year and a term into her degree. Remembering the girl from a dot on the map, who grew up with her mess-with-my-Maggie-and-you’ll-have-me-to-answer-to grandma made him smile. More than once she’d got on the Underground heading in the wrong direction. That’s what had drawn him to her. She’d belonged to a place completely outside his world and she was better off not getting dragged into it.

Seven hours on a plane was too much ice-breaking time. Why hadn’t he suggested a breakfast meeting? She was fixating on a magazine as if she had to memorize it.

Maggie read the in-flight magazine from cover to cover. Including the horoscope page. All twelve star signs. Irritatingly, the cover story was about Drake Wells, Alex’s father, and how at the age of sixty-four he’d reinvented himself and discovered new-found fame starring as the villain in a hit sci-fi movie. In the duty-free section she picked out a new fragrance, which promised to be “beyond zingy”. Its apple-green bottle appealed to her. She made a mental note to try some at the airport on the way home. A preserving jar bursting with rainbow-colored jelly beans gave her a hankering for peachy-pie flavor. She’d definitely get some of those. Disgruntled, she stuffed the magazine into the seat pocket. Drake’s face, handsome, but not in the least bit like Alex’s, stared back at her.

On edge, she stared into space and caught sight of Nick Wells. Her eyes popped open. She hadn’t realized he was on the flight. There seemed to be no getting away from Wells men. He was schmoozing a flight attendant; the one with the candy-pink pout. A moment later he vanished behind the curtain, with the pretty woman in hot pursuit. The toilet-occupied light popped on. Maggie glanced around the cabin. Had anyone else noticed?

Alex had. He rolled his eyes, implying he hadn’t seen a thing.

It was impossible to ignore him.

“Please tell me they’re not doing what I think they’re doing. People don’t, do they? Not in the real world?”

“That depends what you’re thinking.” He was just the right amount of unshaven. His white shirt accentuated his tan. With some of the top buttons undone the fabric fell open in a loose vee. Her eyes were drawn to his broad chest. Amazing pecs hid under that designer shirt – she’d watched the TV show. She’d seen the evidence. “I guess they’re renewing their membership.”

“Sorry? What?” Maggie’s cheeks glowed. The burning memory in the back of her head had come out of storage despite her efforts to contain it. It was in the front part of her brain. It wasn’t likely to go away anytime soon.

Her one-night-flop with Alex had given her more to daydream about than most fans of Mercy of the Vampires could lay claim to. Shame the night of giving in to temptation had faded into a fiasco.

“Keep up, Maggie. Nick and his pick-of-the-day are fulfilling the terms and conditions of the mile-high club.” He narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully. “Have you become a bit of a prude?”

“Certainly not.” She wasn’t about to let him make her feel like a fuddy-duddy. “Sex plus a toilet cubicle don’t add up to fun times in my book.”

“Perhaps we should put that theory to the test. I might be able to change your mind.”

Is he for real? The mile-high club seemed more fantasy than reality. Dead set on proving that she was as worldly as the next person, she raised a brow and blurted, “Bet you’re a fully paid-up member already, right?”

His seductive eyes sparkled. “Is that a proposition?” His ve-ry sexy drawl sent party poppers of attraction bursting through her. She was absolutely not going to repeat her past mistake with this guy. A faint smile twisted his lips. “Relax, Maggie. I’m kidding. Anyway, we’ve kinda been there, nearly done that. Minus the altitude factor. Remember?”

He’d mentioned the unmentionable night.

“How could I forget?” Oh the shame. The embarrassment! Was that what this upgrade had been about? Getting things out in the open. She was none too sure how much air-clearing she could handle. Her throat was dry. She’d better get a grip. Her night with Alex didn’t matter anymore. Except – she’d gained an immensely unforgettable one-night-disaster, and she’d lost a friend. Instant unfriending! Alex smiled his potent smile. Did he have to bring this up? “Our one night non-event. The least said about that the better.”

“You couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

Oh no! She wasn’t taking that. The impertinence! In defiance of her newly acquired coyness with Alex the TV personality, she challenged Alex, her once-upon-a-time friend.

“We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.” She cleared her throat. “Best not go there.”

“You fell asleep.”

She assessed the eaves-dropping potential of the passengers around her, and hissed through gritted teeth, “You couldn’t find a condom.” The corners of Alex’s mouth twitched.

“Um – how are we even having this conversation?” His silence forced her to fill the void. “It was a long time ago. About a hundred years.”

“Ten, actually. Before I became a dropout.”

“Before you became television’s most popular vampire.”

“I think you’ll find that’s Nick.”

“Not according to what I’ve read. I’ve done my research. Allegedly, women the world over go weak at the knees for – and I quote …” She made annoying squiggles in the air with her fingers. “… The complicated twin.” Their eyes locked in combat. “That’s you.”

“I’m not complicated. That’s PR. Nobody pays any attention to that stuff.”

“So what are we doing in Boston – if no one pays any attention?”

Alex shrugged. “Work. The last part of my contract, before I shake off Jago for good, and get on with my life.” Something electric fizzed between them. “Where were we? Let’s get back to debating the mile-high club. I like that topic better.” He trained his eyes intensely on her neck. “What does it take to qualify, do you reckon? Does this count?”

He took her hand in his, turned it over and touched the inside of her wrist, firmly tracing a figure of eight with the pad of one finger. Awareness prickled her skin. He pushed back her sleeve and drew a line with his finger to the indent of her elbow. He marked out another invisible figure of eight on her skin. It was his character’s trademark gesture when seducing women in the vampire show. It gave her goose bumps of pure pleasure.

His mouth was kissingly close. She trembled.

He lowered his head and his mouth grazed her neck, his heat injecting lava into her veins. She breathed in his scent of spice. His shiny black hair brushed her skin, oh so softly. “Alex,” she breathed, aiming for mock stern. “If that’s your party trick, I think it’s time to get a new one.”

He touched her neck very gently, pushed back a wave of hair that had escaped her ponytail and moved his thumb in sensuous figures of eight around her pulse point. Her heart raced.