“Oh.”
There was really nothing more to say, except maybe inquire as to what bling was, but she didn’t feel like making an idiot out of herself in front of Ben and the stone-faced pilot lurking near the cockpit entrance.
“The flight plan has been filed, and we’re all fueled,” the pilot said in a professional voice. “If you could take your seats and strap in, we’ll be ready for take-off.” The pilot disappeared into the cockpit and closed the door.
Ben gestured to one of the window seats. “It’s all yours.”
She gulped. “No, it’s okay, you take it.”
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
During her gawking of G Pappy’s plane, she seemed to have forgotten one very important, very terrifying thought—she’d never flown before.
Her knees knocked together as she sank into one of the leather chairs and fumbled with the seatbelt. Although the temperature in the cabin was cool, her entire body grew hot. Her nerves scampered around like an anxious kitten.
Fanning her scorching cheeks with one hand, she tried to assume a calm expression, and then turned to Ben and asked, “How familiar are you with the current plane crash statistics?”
“Huh?”
“Plane crashes.” She gulped a few times, trying to bring some saliva back into her arid mouth. “How often do they occur? Are smaller planes more likely to go down than larger ones?”
Ben’s movie star mouth stretched out in an amazed smile. “Oh man. You’re scared of flying, aren’t you?”
“What? No. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never flown before, so I’m not sure if I’m scared of flying.”
A soft laugh rolled out of his chest. “It’ll be fine, babe. You’re more likely to get hit by a bus than die in a plane crash. That’s a fact.”
His reply only mollified her slightly, and her nerves continued gnawing at her stomach, especially when the jet lurched forward and started wheeling out of the hangar. It rolled toward one of the runways and a second later the pilot’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker to announce their take-off.
Maggie kept her gaze on her lap as the plane sped down the long strip. Her stomach turned as the wheels lifted off the runway. You have a better chance of getting hit by a bus, she told herself, and then repeated the mantra in her head as the jet made its ascent.
“Just take a quick peek,” Ben urged. He placed a hand on her chin in an attempt to direct her gaze to the window. “Look how gorgeous the city looks from the air.”
Curiosity got the best of her. She leaned across Ben’s chest and pressed her nose to the square plastic window, then gasped. “Wow, you’re right.”
The plane continued to climb into the sky, providing a beautiful view of the cityscape below. Though the sun hadn’t quite set entirely, the lights of Manhattan sparkled up at them, the high-rises and skyscrapers growing smaller and smaller the higher they went. She squinted and noticed how tiny the cars speeding across the George Washington Bridge looked, like the miniature toy cars one of her foster brothers used to play with.
Everything looked pretty and surreal, and for the first time all day, a genuine smile reached her lips.
The smile soon faltered, however, when she realized she was draped across Ben’s chest. That her breasts were squashed into one of his muscular arms. Awareness prickled her skin, seared right through her sweater and made her nipples pebble against her thin bra. She knew he felt those tight buds, because he slowly moved his arm so that the sleeve of his leather jacket rubbed against her.
What was the matter with her? How was it possible that she still hadn’t gotten enough of this man? He’d been staying at her apartment for five days, for God’s sake. They’d already had sex more times than she could count. So how come every time she looked at him, every time he looked at her, the desire was as fierce and as potent as it had been that first night at the hotel?
“It’s a great view, isn’t it?” he murmured.
She turned to see his blue eyes glued to her mouth and almost licked her lips in anticipation of his kiss. It embarrassed her, how badly she wanted this man. She should be angry with him for whisking her away when she still had so much work to do and instead all she could think about was ripping his clothes off.
“Crimson red.”
She shot him a look. “What?”
“Crimson red,” he repeated. “The color of your cheeks. You’re embarrassed.”
“You know how I’m feeling from my cheeks?”
“Yep.” He shrugged. “A big part of acting is reading other people’s expressions. That way you know how to react.”
A tiny ringing sound filled the jet, indicating they could unbuckle their seatbelts, which they both did.
She crossed her legs and gave him a thoughtful look. “I keep forgetting you’re an actor. You definitely don’t fit my idea of a celebrity. Though you do fill the arrogance criteria to a T, by the way.”
He grinned. “It’s part of my natural charm.”