Worked every time. Usually.
A crowded airport. Stranded, weary travellers as far as the eye could see. An angry storm. An even angrier man, right beside her. To unwind from the harrowing flight, Sinead had escaped to the relative privacy and quiet of the frequent travellers’ lounge with its cushy sofas and buffet of delicious food. She was waiting on word from the airline, there were delays but flights weren’t cancelled yet.
But instead of being allowed to curl up and read her new romance novel, a tall, blonde and stunning hunk of Australian surfer-in-a-suit style gorgeousness had decided to plonk himself in the chair next to her. It was him again – the handsome coffee connoisseur from seat 3A. Mr Anderson, it was indeed.
The way he looked at her, slowly running his gaze up and down her body, gave her a little shiver of delight. But no, he was not chatting her up. He was complaining. Loudly.
“Can you believe the ‘Customer Service Manager’ had the gall to call security and ‘escort’ me here to the lounge? If that’s how they handle complaints, they’ve got a lot to learn. For all they know I’ve live-tweeted the whole incident. There’s plenty of other airlines I can do business with.”
She tried valiantly to block out his voice and concentrate instead on his brilliant blue eyes and broad, muscular-looking shoulders, but without much luck. He was truly obnoxious. What a waste of perfectly good man candy. They could be stuck here for hours yet. She could have used a handsome distraction.
The Sky News report blaring on the TV screen in the corner warned of a typhoon rated Category Scary, or something. It was expected to hit hardest in Malaysia, not far from Singapore.
He stopped talking. Thank God! He stared at her with one eyebrow raised, as if he’d finally noticed she wasn’t paying attention.
“The least you could do is listen. I am a disgruntled passenger after all,” Mr Grumpy said.
Enough. She couldn’t listen to another word. Sinead broke out her winning hostess-with-the-mostest smile. “Mr Anderson.”
“Gabriel, please.”
“Gabriel. Such a lovely, angelic name. Shame it doesn’t match your personality.” With those words, she stood and grabbed her bag, then marched towards the buffet.
Sure, what did she need a man for? Coffee would always be there for her.
“C is for coffee.” She mumbled under her breath.
Foods and drinks beginning with the letter ‘c’ were her favourites. Naming and cataloguing them all, it was a little game she played to pass the time in the unfamiliar places she found herself around the world. Her favourites were coffee and chocolate, but from champagne and croissants in Paris to Chahan fried rice in Tokyo, her c-for-comforting foods never let her down.
She made a passable espresso using the coffee machine with the little pods. What to do next? Perhaps some tax-free shopping. She should stay close to the airport seeing as she was on-call for a few more hours. In case the weather improved and they received clearance to fly.
Unlikely. Glancing out the full-length windows, she craned her neck as the rain appeared to be falling sideways. It slashed across the runway in sheets, blown by typhoon winds with terrifying force. The planes on the ground shuddered with the impact. No, those planes were not going anywhere.
Something occurred to her, a light flicking on in her head. So many people were stranded. The hotels near the airport would be booked out soon, especially if all flights were officially grounded. She didn’t want to be left hanging in the airport, especially with Mr Grumpy who didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
Yuki had taken off to the Orchard Road hotel as soon as their flight landed, although she probably should have stayed put. She was on call too. But Yuki was anxious to get to Daniel. Sinead was more than happy to leave them to have their fun privately, where she didn’t have to listen to them. If Sinead didn’t take action now, she may end up sharing a room with Yuki and Daniel, which didn’t bear thinking about.
Balancing her coffee in one hand, she moved to a more private lounge chair and grabbed her smartphone. A few clicks later, she’d booked a junior suite at the airport’s five-star hotel through the airline website. All the standard rooms were fully booked, and the suite was over her hotel allowance – it bordered on more than she could comfortably afford – but she’d pay the excess. It would be worth it.
Oh, the luxury of sleeping in a quiet room with a comfortable bed. She’d pretend it was a mini-break holiday, order some room service and watch a movie on satellite TV. She’d take a bubble bath. Proper girl time to relax and unwind was something she’d been sorely lacking.
The phone in her hand seemed to stare accusingly at her. She should probably send a message to her family. They might see the news reports about the typhoon and worry about her. At least her little sister Bridie might worry, if she wasn’t too busy with her latest boyfriend. She sent a quick text to Bridie. She texted Ma too, before she could rethink it. She wasn’t sure whether to expect a response.
Finishing her coffee, she grabbed her wheelie bag and strode out of the lounge. No time to lose, she had to check in to her hotel and ensconce herself in luxury while she could.
Gabriel pretended to read his copy of the Financial Times while he peered over the top of the paper and watched her across the room. The stunning Irish flight attendant with platinum blonde hair. Sinead. But he’d certainly blown it with her. What had he been thinking? Ranting about turbulence and the diversion to Singapore adding a day to his trip to London, plus the idiot airline manager. She’d taken the full brunt of his frustration, but none of it was her fault.
Just as it wasn’t his fault life had become nothing but a series of commitments and obligations, lined up, one after another. An endless to-do list. He barely had time to pause for breath, let alone meet a woman to spend time with. No wonder he was so rusty. When was the last time he’d even been out on a date? Six months ago? The stunning lawyer in New York. Gillian. She’d wanted more and he couldn’t commit. Not even to a next date.
Sinead on the other hand would probably understand the problems of dating when you’re always busy, always getting ready to leave. She was always travelling. He hadn’t exactly bowled her over though. Far from it.
He’d been completely unprepared for the effect of talking to her – the scent of her hair was distracting. And she was so freaking hot. Up close, she had the most amazing creamy skin which looked so soft. Then there were her legs – so long and elegant. When she crossed her legs and her skirt rode up her thighs, he couldn’t help but watch and wonder what sort of underwear was underneath. She’d completely thrown him off his game.
With most women, he practically had to fight them off. Once they realised he was a company CEO, young, single and not horrible looking, they pinned him as husband material. Not bloody likely.
Still, he couldn’t stop watching her. She was using her phone, probably texting someone special. Of course she’d have a boyfriend or a husband, although he hadn’t seen a ring on her finger. There must be someone worried about her back home. Did she live in Ireland? It wasn’t too far to fly there from London. If he could get her talking again …
It would be fun to have a fling on this trip, especially if he had to hang around in Singapore. All work and no play was making him a very dull boy lately. According to his best friend Ryan, he was a workaholic robot headcase. The guy didn’t mince words.
He needed to feel human again. To feel something other than stress. He needed a plan to get him into Sinead’s good books and, ideally, get her into his bed.
Oh hell. He was so distracted, he hadn’t even organised a bed for the night. It was already four o’clock and the weather was getting worse. What kind of an online travel expert was he? He should have been onto a hotel booking as soon as Mr Lim had made it clear he couldn’t help with a flight. Something, or someone, had obviously rattled his brains.
He