Page 15 of Betrothed
The flight attendant crowded in. “Would you like some champagne? That might calm your nerves, but I assure you I’ve made this flight dozens of times. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Only then did I realize I had a death grip on the plastic bag and that my entire arm was shaking. “Champagne would be amazing.” Maybe additional alcohol wasn’t in my best interest, but I did have ten plus hours before I needed to be coherent. Why not?
The crystal flute was placed on the table in front of me within seconds. As soon as I brought the rim to my lips, the bubbles tickled my nose and my imagination began creating fantasy scenarios. At least it was good to see I hadn’t lost my sense of desire. How was that possible when I’d enjoyed a seductive afternoon with Kirill?
I settled in, trying to sip my drink and not gulp, but as soon as the seatbelt sign flicked on, I was petrified. What I hadn’t expected was the level of fear to be so high. I’d thought the first flight would be the worst, especially since Kathleen and I had been jammed in the center of the plane. I’d been wrong.
When the attendant came to collect my glass for takeoff, I glared at her, certain I’d bite her hand off if she dared try to snatch itbefore I finished. I glugged the rest, which was a crime in every state of the union as far as I was concerned but necessary.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come back around,” she said, trying and failing to keep amusement off her face.
Now my death grip was centered around the leather chair while taking gasping breaths. While the engine hummed and the plane started moving, I cinched my eyes and mouth shut. The takeoffs and landings were the worst, but with three windows smack in front of me, I had no doubt I’d experience a heavy bout of acrophobia the entire trip.
I was the girl who’d never been to the top of the Empire State Building. And forget about Ferris wheels. People who were brazen enough to go on those rides were nuts. When the plane lurched, I let off a strangled sound that was dangerously close to what I thought a hyena would sound like in the wild.
If anyone dared tell me I was disturbing the peace, I would go ballistic. I tried very hard not to make a scene, but I sensed my breathing was creating the strangest sounds. With my head down, I pressed my hands on either side of my face, even rocking like some child terrified of the demon under her bed.
The analogy wasn’t helping.
A sudden slip of movement had a distinctive sound. Someone had come into my pod.
No words were needed before knowing who was daring enough to interrupt a woman having a panic attack.
With the plane racing down the runway, I was too petrified to look at man perhaps trying to be my knight in shining armor.
“Just breathe,malen’kiy yagnenok. Everything will be fine. We’ll be in the air in moments.”
His voice was soothing but did nothing to quell my hyperventilation or the fog descending on my brain. Or the moans escalating in volume. Being unable to move or breathe, let alone speak, I had no way of countering his determined healing attempts with sarcasm.
But I could tell even with being inside a pod that the closest passengers weren’t happy that I now sounded like a sasquatch eager to feast on humans.
Maybe my confused state of mind was slow on the uptake, but I vaguely realized my seatbelt was being removed. Even though I tried my best to lift my head to stop him from pushing me to the wolves, even moving my fingers to his, the only change was another jolt of electricity.
“It’s alright. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Maybe the man had seen one too many superhero movies, his next action a complete surprise. Kirill slipped one arm under my legs, the other behind my back. I was lifted as if weighing nothing, moved a few inches and when he sat down on the second chair, he cradled me in his lap.
Like he would in comforting a baby.
Only he wasn’t about to rock me to sleep.
He had something else on his mind to quiet my nerves.
With one hand, he cupped my face, using his thumb to tip my head. After that, he did the unthinkable.
He crushed his mouth over mine.
CHAPTER 4
Vivian
What kind of woman would be annoyed when a sexy man kissed her?
I couldn’t think of one. If my best friend, any of the women I worked with, or my cousin had been on the receiving end of the heated, explosive passion, they would swoon and fall prey to the man’s hunger for control.
But I really wasn’t the little lamb that Kirill had insisted I was. In fact, if the situation were typical and this occurred in a bar or anywhere else, I would likely respond by slapping him.
However, I was too stunned to react at first, other than to wrap my arm around his neck and tangle my fingers in his hair. Which, if I were honest with myself, was something I’d thought of doing more than once.
