“I’m a strong, independent woman, Aiden.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You believe me, don’t you?”
“Sure I do,” he said. “But . . .”
Cordie turned to him, ready for an argument. “But what?”
“I was wondering if you’ll be needing to hold my hand for the entire flight or if I could get some work done.”
TEN
So much for being independent.
As soon as Cordie let go of his hand, Aiden disappeared into the bedroom, and when she next saw him he was wearing a light gray T-shirt and sweatpants. The clothes had seen better days and should have been put in the rag pile, yet he looked amazing. Only Aiden could be sexy in sweats, she thought.
After making sure she had everything she needed, he went into his office to work, but he kept coming into the main cabin to check on her. It was as though he was making certain she was still there. What did he expect? That she might step outside for some fresh air?
A couple of hours into the flight, when he next looked in on her, she was reading a biochemistry book. It was the latest edition by Frederick Full-of-Himself Fulmer. The author’s massive ego came through in nearly every chapter. He took credit for discovering everything but air. Had she been at home, she would have tossed it into the recycle bin.
“Are you enjoying your book?” Aiden asked.
She decided to tone down her opinion. “It’s a bit pedantic.” Her hand covered the title of the book, but all he had to do was look over her shoulder and read a sentence or two—which he did—to know what the subject matter was.
“Pedantic, huh?” Smiling, he went back into his office.
The next time he checked on her she had moved to the sofa with her iPad and was finishing a drawing. He sat beside her, leaned into her, and asked, “What’s that supposed to be?”
“A schematic.”
“A schematic of what?”
She was embarrassed to tell him. She felt foolish. “I was trying to design a more efficient fuel-injection system.” She erased the drawing and added, “It didn’t work.”
He was sitting so close she didn’t dare look up at him. She would lose her train of thought if she did, and he would know why. She wished to God she had never kissed him, and the second that thought popped into her head she knew it was a lie. She wanted him to kiss her again. God, he smelled heavenly.
No, it was all wrong. A relationship with Aiden, no matter how brief, could never go anywhere. They were ill suited to each other. While Mr. Sophisticated was buying land and building beautiful five-star hotels, she was immersed in biochemistry and cars. How much more nerdy could she get?
He wasn’t perfect by any means. He had more than a few irritating flaws. It was just that he was so incredibly handsome, people—women in particular—tended to overlook them. She didn’t have blinders, though. Aiden could be such an arrogant know-it-all, and he was far more stubborn than she was.
She knew he regretted touching her, but she doubted he would ever admit it. In that moment when his mouth covered hers and he began to caress her, everything had changed between them. There was a tension now that hadn’t been there before, and it was all her fault. She’d practically attacked him. It was mortifying to acknowledge that she had been the aggressor, and she was amazed she could even look him in the eye now.
Thank goodness she was over her infatuation with him. Yes, right. Over him. That lie was as thin as Saran Wrap. Her move to Boston couldn’t come soon enough.
When he remained next to her, she thought he wanted something. She waited for him to tell her what it was, but then they started their descent into Los Angeles, and she guessed what he was doing. She’d grabbed him during takeoff, letting him know she was freaked, and he must have assumed she didn’t like landings either. He was right, for she grabbed his arm and held on until the wheels hit the runway and glided to a stop.
It was terribly sweet that he didn’t comment or tease her, which was totally out of character for him. Aiden had many positive attributes, but being sweet wasn’t one of them.
Refueling didn’t take any time at all, and within thirty minutes they were back in the air and on their way to Sydney. Aiden stayed beside her reading and pretty much ignoring her until they leveled out at thirty thousand feet and she was able to let go of him. Then he went back into his office to finish a report. At least that’s what he told her. She thought he might be staying at his desk to avoid having to entertain her. As if that were necessary.
She wished they could go back to the way things used to be, when he barely noticed she existed. She’d certainly ruined any chances of that happening. Just fifteen more hours until touchdown, she thought. Then she would go her way and he would go his.
It had been a long day. She was tired and stressed, but she didn’t think she would be able to sleep. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into a pink T-shirt and black yoga pants. Maybe watching a movie would help her relax. Aiden was still at his desk working on his laptop. The door to the bedroom behind him was open, and the sheets on the bed had been turned down. She didn’t want to interrupt him, and so she simply stood in the doorway and waited for him to notice her.
Aiden knew she was there, of course. He closed out the file he was working on, leaned back in his swivel chair, and looked at her. His pulse skipped a beat and then began to race. God, she was beautiful. And the most sensual woman he’d ever seen. Her hair wasn’t pulled back into a ponytail now but fell in soft waves past her shoulders. Her face was flushed with color, and even though the T-shirt wasn’t fitted, he could tell she’d removed her bra. He remembered how soft her full breasts had felt, how perfect. She was so soft everywhere, so damn feminine, and right this minute all he could think about was taking her into his arms. He wanted to finish what they had started, but he knew that was impossible and crazy. This was Cordelia, not one of the women he took out to dinner and then home to his bed. He had known her most of her life, and they had become good friends. She was sweet, smart, funny Cordelia. He had never let himself see her any other way.
How could he go back to being oblivious? He supposed he’d always thought she was a little sexy—he’d have to be dead not to notice—but he’d never allowed himself to do more than notice. Ignoring her had been easy . . . until he’d taken her into his arms and kissed her. Her mouth was so erotic, her lips so soft . . .
His voice was gruff when he finally spoke. “What do you need?”
She wasn’t put off by his brisk tone. “I’d like to watch a movie. Are the DVDs in here?”
“No,” he answered. “All you have to do is turn the television on and pull up the menu. Come with me. I’ll show you.”
She followed him into the bedroom. The remote was on a side table next to the bed. He turned on the television, called up the menu, and handed the remote to her.
“You can watch it in here. Picture’s better.”
“I don’t want to take your bed. You should get some sleep. It’s a long flight.”
“I’ll sleep later.”
“Are you going back to work?”
“No,” he answered. “I’m going to pull up a list of events in Sydney, important fund-raisers, charity balls, and the like, that Simone Rayburn and her husband will most likely attend.” Shrugging, he added, “I can get a list of those invited.”