Even though they’d never crossed paths since the trial, she’d consumed his thoughts for well over a year now. He’d spent many nights thinking about the ways he’d like to strip her bare and give her ass a good hard paddling for wrongfully stealing money from his company. But the truth was, what he wanted had little to do with revenge, and more to do with showing the woman who dressed in prim and proper business suits that real control came in the form of surrender.
With his cock throbbing, and heat coursing through him, he moved back to his desk to look over the day’s schedule a second time. He glanced at her name again, and his entire body came alive, because there was no denying that he’d just been gifted the perfect opportunity to help her free her submissive side. Of course, given that he’d only have one weekend, he’d have no choice but to push her limits and resort to some stronger methods to seduce the submission out of her. His fingers itched as he thought about that lush heart-shaped ass of hers and how much it needed his attention.
He inspected the itinerary closer and discovered that Jack Armstrong, a pilot that had been with the company since its early days was scheduled to depart for Freedom at nine sharp—Ms. Andrews the only passenger on board. Quinn considered her final destination. Not only had his company taken guests to the private island numerous time, he personally knew the resort well, having played there a time or two. Although this time he suspected the plane wasn’t going to make it to the well-known island nestled in the Atlantic Ocean, especially if he was the one in the pilot seat.
He picked up the paper, and traced his finger over her name as a devious plan began to formulate in his mind. As he sorted through all the naughty details, all the tricks he was going to use on her, he checked his watch then picked up his phone to call his personal assistant. After giving her a list of things he needed before takeoff, he dialed a friend and called in a favor. Once all the pieces were in place, and the discreet information he needed was on its way, he crossed Jack’s name off the manifesto, shrugged out of his dress jacket and grabbed his flight suit. Ms. Andrews might be looking for a little adventure at Freedom, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be the guy to give her what she really wanted, yet had no idea how much she needed.
Two
Rebecca wrung her damp hands together and tried to wrestle her nerves into submission as the small plane cruised through the cloudless sky. It wasn’t so much that she hated flying, it had more to do with what waited for her when they landed on the private island. But since her friends had gone to so much trouble to put this package together for her, and she truly didn’t want to disappoint them, she couldn’t very well say no and let it go to waste. Which was why she was currently flying over the Atlantic Ocean, on the way to some sordid sex club. That, of course, didn’t mean she had to partake in any of the resort activities, whatever they might be.
She glanced at her suitcase, and relaxed a tiny bit, knowing her files were tucked safely inside. Maybe the weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all. She could hole up in her room and get some work done and her friends would be none the wiser.
Pushing back into her seat, she looked at the ground below then stole a glance at the pilot negotiating the skies in front of her. He was a big man, with broad shoulders and a hard body—one that filled out his dark flight suit rather nicely thank you very much—and gave her something to think about other than her final destination. She perused his profile, but with his hat pulled low and pair of dark sunglasses covering his features, she couldn’t identify his face. She studied him a moment longer, and felt a niggling in the depths of her stomach. There was just something about him that felt familiar—something that reminded her of Quinn Montgomery—but she knew it was well below the stature of a man who ran a multimillion-dollar company to be flying a customer to a sex resort.
She turned and stared out the window for the remainder of the trip and when the plane finally landed, she looked around, detailing the small island fringed by the cold waves of the Atlantic. The makeshift runway was surrounded by lush foliage, and off in the distance, high on a hill, she spotted an impressive estate. Although upon closer inspection, it looked more like a millionaire’s summer home than a lavish resort where hedonist activities took place. And if this was a sex resort, where was everyone? The place was empty. Not a single vacationer to be found.
She leaned forward and tapped the pilot’s shoulder, certain he’d made a mistake. But when he unbuckled his harness, opened the cockpit door and climbed from the plane, the niggling in her stomach grew to a full blown case of panic.
What is going on?
The pilot widened the door even more, and with every nerve in her body on edge, she remained seated. She straightened her back and said, “I think there’s been a mistake.”
“There’s been no mistake.”
Her heart jumped into her throat because the second he spoke, the second she heard that rich deep voice, one that evoked a myriad of sinful thoughts and had her mind whirling back to the trial of Quinn Montgomery, she knew her day had just gone from bad to worse.