Page 22 of Rebooked For Us
She swallowed but kept going. Too damn stubborn for her own good.
“Finally dropped your nuts, huh?” She clapped slowly with an incredulous look on her face. “Good for you, Ducane.”
The truth was, I had let down the best thing that had ever happened to me, broken the heart of the only person who ever let me be fully myself. I’d chosen my family’s expectations over us and couldn’t even see that through to the end.
She turned on her heels and walked out. I let her go. There was only one way to get through to Skye, and that was by letting her think she was the boss.
The turbulence hit before she made it three steps past the door.
The plane dropped hard.
She hit the wall, feet slipping, eyes wide. I was already there. My hand locked around her waist before she went down, her back against my chest, both of us catching our breath at the same time.
She didn’t move.
Neither did I.
“Aye, calm down. I got you,” I whispered with my hand resting over her racing heart.
I held onto her until the pilot’s voice came through the speakers. Even after seven years, my body hadn’t stopped reaching for her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We are experiencing some unexpected turbulence. All crew, please be seated. Passengers remain in your seats with seatbelts fastened until further notice.”
The nearest seats were the two just outside my suite door, the ones Premier put there for exactly this. I steered her toward them without asking because there was no time to ask. We sat down. I reached across, pulled her belt across her lap, and clicked it before I did my own.
“Did you not listen to the instructions, Mr. Simmons? Always secure yourself first.”
She looked at my hands, then looked straight ahead with a smile.
The jet shuddered again. She grabbed the armrest between us. My hand was already there.
“One dinner, Skye.” My voice came out lowly because the corridor was small, she was right there, and I had just had my arms around her for the first time in a long time. Shit, she smelled so damn good. “That’s all I’m asking.”
She stared straight ahead. The jet steadied. The engine settled back into a quiet hum.
“One dinner.” She said towards the wall in front of her. “You don’t bring up the past, your father, and you don’t call me Spot again.”
“I can do two of those three.”
She cut her eyes at me. I almost smiled.
“No, all three. Nickname privileges have been revoked. Thank ya.” I shook my head. Always gotta be in control, although I’d already won.
“Fine. No nicknames, no pops, no past.”
The pilot’s voice came back, clearing the crew. Skye unhooked her seatbelt, stood, and smoothed her uniform over thick hips.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
She walked back toward the main cabin without looking back at me. I leaned back into the seat and let out a breath I had been holding since she walked through my suite door.
I made it through the rest of that flight because nothing came before the job. I served the main cabin and kept myself busy anywhere that wasn’t his suite. I greeted every passenger who came through with the same warmth, telling myself I wasn’t thinking about dinner, or Ducane Simmons, or the way his arms felt in that corridor when the turbulence hit.
I was a professional. I had a job to do. I‘d done it and was almost free when his cologne reached me, stopping me cold. I didn’t have to turn around. I already knew.
I closed my eyes for half a second and forced my shoulders to relax.
“Your villa is handled.”
