He lifted a mocking brow at her, and indicated the seat opposite him. ‘Buenos días. If that sour look is because of the early hour, rest assured, you won’t be required to work the whole thirteen hours of the flight. There are bedrooms on board. Take a nap, if you feel so inclined.’
Elise shook her head. ‘I don’t need a nap,’ she replied, then promptly yawned.
He sent her a speaking glance. ‘Sí, you’re fresh as the proverbial daisy.’
‘I slept badly. So sue me.’
He frowned. ‘Litigation won’t be necessary. We’ve all suffered sleepless nights at one point or other.’
‘I didn’t meant that literally—oh, never mind.’
Tossing his pen onto the table, he sat back and observed her for a full minute before, raising a hand, he summoned an attendant and ordered coffee to be delivered after take-off.
‘I’m surprised I didn’t realise this before,’ he murmured.
‘Realise what?’
‘You’re not a morning person,’ he supplied.
Her attempt at a laugh emerged more like a snort. ‘Compared to what your idea of morning is, no one is a morning person.’
He pressed his fingers into a steeple against his lips, the silky-haired forearms bared by his rolled sleeves flexing in the morning light.
Studiously, Elise averted her gaze from that shockingly sexy display of brawn as the doors were locked and the plane taxied to the runway. She might have condemned her mother for her deplorable suggestions last night, but it didn’t mean her insane attraction for Alejandro had dimmed. In fact, his less formal dress and slightly dishevelled hair only added to his intense appeal.
Once they reached cruising altitude, the attendant arrived with a platter of coffee, bagels and croissants. Seizing at the excuse to occupy herself, she grabbed a bagel, then poured and sugared her coffee, before passing Alejandro a cup of espresso.
‘Gracias.’
When she’d devoured half of the bagel, she glanced at his documents. ‘So what do you need me to do?’
‘I meant what I said. You don’t need to work during the flight.’
She frowned. ‘I’m supposed to twiddle my thumbs for thirteen hours?’
‘I’m attempting to be less...ogre-tastic, Elise. Take advantage of it.’
The words were too similar to those she’d heard a few short hours ago. As absurd as it was, they struck a chord of disquiet. She didn’t want to take advantage of anything or anyone. ‘I’d rather not,’ she bit out.
‘Why do I get the feeling I’ve misstepped?’
A quick investigative glance showed his incisive gaze on her. Elise shook her head, hoping to dispel his interest, but he carried on looking at her.
‘It’s not important. Seriously,’ she stressed when his eyes narrowed.
After a moment he nodded, and returned his attention to his documents. A full hour passed before she lost the battle to stay still. With nothing for her to do but leaf through mindless magazines, her attention continued to stray to Alejandro. The pen he twirled through his fingers became a source of fascination. As did the drift of his fingers down the surface of his tablet.
Enough already.
Looking around, she smiled at the attendant who caught her eye. When he started towards her, she rose from her seat.
And gasped when Alejandro’s hand closed over her wrist. ‘Need something?’
She attempted to speak, despite the heat travelling up her arm. ‘I...yes. I’m not sure how the luggage thing works on private jets. I’m wondering whether I can get access to my stuff. No problem if not...’
Without letting go of her, Alejandro rose to tower over her. ‘Your things were stowed in one of the bedrooms. I’ll show you.’ A jerk of his head dismissed the attendant. Heading to the back of the plane, he indicated a short flight of stairs.
She’d erred on the side of not too casual but with travel comfort in mind when she chose the navy flared skirt and white short-sleeved shirt she was wearing. But now as she went up the stairs she wondered whether her skirt was too short, her shirt a little too clingy.
Hating herself for letting her mother’s views seep into her confidence, she headed towards the single door at the top level and opened it. The bedroom was larger than her apartment’s, with a king-size bed draped in cotton sheets and a blood-red coverlet. On the opposite wall, a high-tech entertainment and drinks centre stood beneath a wide-screen TV, with a dove-grey velvet-covered chaise longue set against one wall. Next to the chaise, she spotted an open closet where her suitcase and art bag had been stashed next to another set of suitcases.
The space was undoubtedly designed for relaxation, but it was the sort of relaxation that had Elise’s breath snagging in her chest and her pulse racing at a frenetic pace.
She heard the door shut behind her and turned. ‘I’ll just grab my stuff and go back down.’
He walked towards her, his pace predatorily graceful in a way that made her want to watch him for a very long time. ‘Why?’ he asked, as if her question was absurd in the extreme.
‘I get the feeling... Is this your bedroom?’ she blurted.
‘Sí. It’s the quietest place on the airplane, thanks to great soundproofing. You won’t be disturbed here.’
But he was disturbing her with his scent, his body and the banked heat emanating from his eyes.
‘I really just want to grab one thing—’
‘You have shadows under your eyes, Elise. Shadows that weren’t there last night despite the events of the past couple of days. I need you on top of your game by the time we land. So rest. I insist.’ He went to the bed and pulled down the covers. Grasping one pillow, he fluffed it.
The sight of his manly bronze fingers against the white sheet was so shockingly erotic, Elise felt a clenching between her thighs. Locking her knees, she held her breath as he strolled back to her. His forefinger traced the skin beneath her eyes for several heartbeats before he dropped his hand.
‘There’s a buzzer next to the bed that summons an attendant. Use it when you wake up if you need anything. Lunch will be delivered to you if you wish, or you can come downstairs.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
He was gone in quick, silent strides. The breath expelled from her lungs in a rush, her heart hammering as if she’d run a marathon.
Walking to the chaise, she sat and dragged a hand down her face. Heaven help her, whatever this fevered sensation was that came over her whenever Alejandro was near, she needed to find a solution to it, and quickly, before she made a fool of herself. Or worse, confirmed his ‘like mother, like daughter’ indictment.
The thought sent a cold shiver through her, dispelling a little of the hot tingles shooting through her body.
Rising, she went to the closet and picked up the extra bag she’d packed last night.
She hadn’t touched her art supplies in years. Elise wasn’t exactly sure why she’d packed it, or why she imagined she’d find solace in her art now when her every attempt in the last few years had felt forced and stilted. But ever since divulging the existence of her art degree to Alejandro, she’d felt a growing need to revisit her discarded dream. To see if, this time, it would speak to her.
Kicking off her shoes, she settled on the bed and set up the collapsible easel before her.
Her heart leapt into her throat as she scrolled through the pages of her sketchbook, revisiting abandoned stories. What if she