“Of course,” she says, and though her face remains perfectly polite, I can’t help but think I hear a hint of amusement in her voice, and my cheeks heat in response. I’m a newlywed, after all. “The stateroom is made up for you now.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly. I’ve flown on this jet a number of times now, so I’m perfectly familiar with the stateroom, and often spend the trip back there once we’ve reached altitude. What I’m wondering is why I’m going there without Damien.
My question must be all over my face, because now Katie does smile. “Mr. Stark said that he’d join you there momentarily.”
“Right,” I say, feeling a little foolish. I tuck my stack of magazines under my arm, then ease out of the plush seat and head toward the back of the plane. I think of Katie’s promise that Damien will be coming soon, and my body warms with pleasant anticipation. The flight to Paris will take approximately ten hours. Considering how hard and fast we’ve been going since we left Los Angeles, I know that we should get some sleep if we don’t want to pass out from jet lag and exhaustion right there on the rue de Rivoli. But even if we crash for a full eight hours, that still leaves two delicious hours all to ourselves.
I hurry the rest of the way, but when I open the door I see that once again, Damien Stark is ahead of the curve. The room glows with candlelight, an unexpected reality that makes me laugh out loud. Who but Damien would think of candlelight on an airplane?
Of course, these are faux candles, but the illumination is just as romantic, and the flickering light from dozens of scattered candles gleams off the room’s polished wood and casts dancing shadows that under other circumstances could seem menacing, but tonight are both inviting and comforting.
The narrow bed is still made, the pristine white duvet covered with rose petals. I smile, thinking of the tub back in our Mexican bungalow. Our honeymoon, it seems, has a theme.
There is no champagne, but the small bedside table is topped by a bottle of eighteen-year-old Macallan next to two crystal highball glasses, and I grin. Before meeting Damien, my drink of choice was bourbon. More recently, though, I’ve discovered the pleasures of single malt Scotch.
All in all, the room is a delight, and I can’t help but think that we will likely be getting less than our full eight hours, after all. Not a problem; I’m more than willing to sacrifice sleep for Damien.
I pour myself a shot of Scotch, neat, then sit on the edge of the bed and sip it, savoring the slow burn and the way I can feel the heat spreading through me. I toss back the rest, then close my eyes and let the slow buzz tingle through me. We didn’t eat dinner, and the Scotch is strong. Not as strong as my thoughts of Damien, though, and between my buzz and my desire I am beginning to squirm a bit in frustration.
My nipples tighten, rubbing almost painfully against the fitted bodice of my sundress. I reach up, cupping my breasts, imagining that it is Damien’s hands upon me. Damien, who knows my desires as well as I know them. Maybe even better.
I think of the way he took me in the shower. Of the tub filled with scented water and rose petals. This cabin filled with candlelight.
He did that for me. To please and seduce me.
I smile to myself with just a hint of mischief. Now, I think, it’s my turn.
I stand just long enough to unzip the sundress and slide the spaghetti straps off my shoulders. I wriggle it off my hips and then toss it across the room so that I am standing naked in front of the bed. I’m not wearing underwear—a nod to the game that Damien and I used to play—but he hasn’t yet discovered that little secret. That’s okay, though. There’s plenty of time for discovery once we get to Paris.
Right now, I have a different kind of surprise in mind, and since I don’t know how much longer Damien will be in the cockpit, I know that I have to hurry. I turn and assess the bed, trying to think. I have something in mind, and after a few seconds of mental gymnastics, I think I’ve figured out how to pull it off.
By the time I hear the light tap at the door, I am ready.