It didn’t help that he was wearing silver-gray trousers that made his legs look long and lean, and a burgundy shirt in a fabric that draped over the muscles of his shoulders and arms in a way that emphasized their power.
Three fluid strides brought him to the leather seat beside hers. He dropped into it, fastened his seat belt, and reached across the six inches between them to lace his fingers with hers. “Once we’re at cruising altitude, you can sit on my lap.” His look was heavy lidded, and she knew exactly what he was thinking about doing to her.
“But the pilots . . .” Chloe cast a look at the young woman locking the jet’s door closed.
“As soon as she goes back in the cockpit, I press a button.” He flipped up the top of his chair’s arm to reveal a control panel. “A privacy light goes on, and no one comes back here unless there’s an emergency.”
“Oh.” It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d had sex in the airplane before. He was a red-blooded male whom most women would fall over themselves to be seduced by.
“I use it for business negotiations of a confidential nature.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles one by one, sending shivers up her arm. “One of the many things I like about you.”
Chloe wanted to ask him about some of the others, but she refused to fish. Instead she looked around the airplane as the engines revved and it began to taxi forward. The cabin looked like someone’s designer living room, with its cushy tan leather chairs and polished wood-and-aluminum tables and cabinets. You could tell it was a plane only by the seat belts and the fact that the furniture was attached to the floor. “This is a lot nicer than economy class.”
“I should have offered you a drink, but I was in a hurry to get us into the air. My apologies.” His smile spoke of wickedly hot intentions.
The engine sound rose to a roar, and the jet hurtled down the runway before tilting upward in a swift ascent. She found her grip on Nathan’s hand tightening involuntarily as the nimble Learjet turned on a wingtip.
“Do you dislike flying?” Nathan’s frown of concern made her want him more.
“I’m not used to how fast a smaller plane turns.” She eased her hold on him. “By the way, where are we going?”
“Kennebunkport, Maine, to a restaurant where they take the lobsters off the boat and cook them right then and there.”
“I’m pretty sure they have good lobster in New York City.”
“You’re a tough woman to impress.”
Chloe shook her head. “I’m already impressed. All this”—she swept her hand around the luxurious cabin—“just makes me nervous.”
First Nathan scowled. Then he shook his head with a sharp laugh. “That shoots Miller’s theory all to hell.” The “Fasten Seat Belts” light winked out, and he unbuckled his so he could turn to face her. “Why would it make you nervous?”
“Because it proves how different we are.”
“All it proves is that I got lucky with something I designed for my own use.”
“Please.” She tossed him a skeptical look. “Your apartment could hold four of my house. Just one of your terraces is bigger than my backyard. If you want lobster for dinner, you hop on your jet and fly to Maine.”
“Trappings, Chloe, toys. That’s all.”
“This level of trappings changes people.”
Nathan looked away. “Not as much as you would hope.”
That caught her attention. So he had wanted his wealth and success to change something in his life. She wondered if it had to do with his father. She longed to ask but her nerve failed her.
He reached over and flicked open her seat-belt buckle, letting his fingertips drift over her thigh. “Will you sit on my lap?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gray eyes. They burned.
“Y-yes.” Without breaking eye contact, she pushed herself up from her seat and moved to stand in front of him, looking down.
His head was tilted back slightly so she could see the strong line of his neck and the hollow at the base of his throat. She braced her hands on the armrests and bent down to touch it with her tongue.
Then his hands were on her, lifting her so she landed with her knees on either side of his thighs. He pushed his fingers into her hair to hold her for a long kiss that made her forget they were on a plane. All thought and feeling were concentrated on the way he felt under her and against her. She sank down so his erection rubbed directly against the ache between her legs. She pulled away from his mouth to increase the pressure by arching her back.
He found the hem of her skirt and worked his hands up under it, skimming along her bare thighs. Despite the coolness of the evening, she’d decided to dispense with stockings since she suspected dinner might lead to something more intense. The heat of his palms made her push down harder, and he muttered her name on a groan as his fingers worked under the lace crotch of her panties.
“They untie,” Chloe breathed. “At the sides.”