Sylvia Day - A Touch of Crimson

“I can tell you’re going to be trouble,” she murmured, tightening her grip to still his questing fingers.

“Dinner. Conversation. I promise to behave.”

Holding him captive, she reached for his business card with her other hand. Her blood was thrumming through her veins, roused by the excitement of such an immediate, unruly attraction. “Mitchell Aeronautics,” she read. “But you’re flying commercial?”

“I had other plans.” His tone was wry. “But my pilot dropped out unexpectedly.”

His pilot. Her mouth curved. “Don’t you hate when that happens?”

“Usually… Then you came along.” He pulled his BlackBerry out of his pocket. “Use my phone so whoever you call will have that number, too.”

Lindsay reluctantly released him and accepted the phone, even though she had her own. Setting her soda on the worn carpet, she stood. Adrian rose with her. He was affluent, elegant, mannered, solicitous, and drop-dead gorgeous. Yet as polished as he was, there remained a dangerous edge to him that titillated a woman’s basest instincts. Maybe the crowded terminal was provoking her sharp senses. Or maybe they just had a combustible sexual compatibility. Regardless, she wasn’t complaining.

Leaving her pretzel bag on the chair, she moved a few feet away and dialed the number to her father’s auto shop. While she was occupied, Adrian walked to the gate counter.

“Linds. You’re there already?”

She was startled by the abrupt greeting. “How did you know it was me?”

“Caller ID. It shows a 714 area code.”

“I’m on my layover in Phoenix, using someone else’s cell phone.”

“What’s the matter with yours? And why are you still in Phoenix?” A single parent for twenty years, Eddie Gibson had always been overprotective, which wasn’t surprising considering the horrific manner of Regina Gibson’s death.

“My phone’s fine and I missed my connection. I’ve also met someone.” Lindsay explained the situation with Adrian and relayed the information from the business card. “I’m not worried. He just seems like the kind of guy who could use a little resistance. I don’t think he hears the word ‘no’ very often.”

“Probably not. Mitchell is like Howard Hughes.”

Her brows rose. “How so? Money, movies, starlets? All of the above?”

She assessed Adrian from the back, taking advantage of the opportunity to check him out while his attention was diverted. The rear view was as impressive as the front, revealing a powerful back and a luscious ass.

“If you sat still for more than five minutes, you might know this,” her father said.

God, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d read a magazine, and she had stopped paying for cable television years ago. She rented movies and shows by the season, because even commercials were a luxury she couldn’t make room for. “I can barely keep my own life straight, Dad. Where am I supposed to find time to pay attention to someone else’s?”

“You’re always poking into mine,” he teased.

“I know you. I love you. Celebrities? Not so much.”

“He’s not a celebrity. He actually guards his privacy pretty fiercely. He lives on some kind of compound in Orange County. I saw it on a television special once. It’s some sort of architectural wonder. Mitchell is similar to Hughes in that he’s a reclusive gazillionaire who likes planes. The media keeps tabs on him because the public has a fascination with aviators. They always have. And he’s supposedly attractive, but I can’t judge that sort of thing.”

And to think she’d picked him out of a crowd. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll call you when I get settled.”

“I know you can take care of yourself, but be careful.”

“Always. Don’t eat fast food for dinner. Cook something healthy. Better yet, meet a hot chick and have her cook for you.”

“Linds…” he began in a mock warning tone.

Laughing, she ended the call, then went into the phone’s history and deleted the number.

Adrian approached with a ghost of a smile. He moved so fluidly, exuding power and confidence, which she found even more attractive than his looks. “Everything okay?”

“Absolutely.”

He held out a boarding pass. Lindsay saw her name and frowned.

“I took the liberty,” he explained, “of arranging adjacent seats.”

She took the ticket. First class. Seat number two, which was more than twenty rows closer to the front of the plane than she’d had originally. “I can’t pay for this.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to foot the bill for a change you didn’t ask for.”

“You need photo ID to mess with someone’s ticket.”

“Yes, but I pulled a few strings.” He retrieved the phone she handed to him. “Are you okay with that?”

She nodded, but her inner warning light lit up. With TSA security being what it was, it should’ve taken an act of God to change her ticket without her permission. Perhaps the gate attendant had simply succumbed to Adrian’s allure or maybe he’d seriously greased her palm, but Lindsay never ignored alarm bells. She was going to have to dig deeper where he was concerned, and she would really have to think twice about what she’d hoped would be a short and sweet, hot and raunchy, no strings attached affair.

Frankly, there was no need for a guy like Adrian to go to any trouble to get into her pants. Every woman in the terminal was eyeing him, some with the sort of searching glance that said, Give me the slightest encouragement and I’m yours. Shit, even some of the men were looking at him like that. And he handled the prurient interest so deftly that Lindsay knew it was par for the course for him. He kept his gaze moving, never lingering, while wearing an air of indifference that acted like a shield. She’d arrowed right through it with her direct come-and-get-it eye contact, but it truly made no sense that he’d taken her bait. She was rain damp and scruffily dressed. Yes, self-assurance was a lure for powerful men, and she had it, but that didn’t explain why she felt as if she was the one who’d been snared.

“Just so we’re clear,” she began, “I was raised to expect men to open doors, pull out chairs, and pick up the tab. In return, I dress nice and try to be charming. That’s as far as it goes. You can’t buy sex from me. Work for you?”

His mouth curved in that now familiar almost-smile. “Perfectly. We’ll have an hour to talk on the plane. If you aren’t completely comfortable with me by the time we land, I’ll settle for an exchange of phone numbers. Otherwise, I have a car picking me up and we can leave the airport together.”

“Deal.”

His gaze held a hint of self-satisfaction. Lindsay kept her similar response in check. Whatever else he may be and whatever his motives were, Adrian Mitchell was a challenge she relished.

I have her. Adrian savored a ferocious surge of triumph.

If Lindsay Gibson knew how predatory and rapaciously sexual his sense of conquest was, she might have thought twice about having dinner with him. His first urge upon seeing her had been to press her against the most convenient flat surface and take her swift and hard. To her, they were meeting for the first time. In truth, they were reuniting after two hundred years apart. Two hellish centuries of waiting and craving.

Today, of all days. Life had a way of grabbing him by the balls at the most in-fucking-convenient times. But he couldn’t bitch about this-would never bitch about it.

Shadoe, my love.

They had never been apart this length of time before. Their reunions were always random and unpredictable, yet inexorable. Their souls were drawn to each other despite the disparate roads their lives were traveling.