“Anyone sitting here?”
She looked up and her heart jumped in her chest. A chocolate-brown Adonis stood above her, almost a dead ringer for Michael Jordan. “Uh, no.”
“Mind if I sit next to you?”
His voice was rich, like maple syrup with a slight drawl, she thought. “Sure. I mean, no,” she sputtered nervously.
He smiled and lowered his long, lean body into the seat, spread his thighs and pulled his bag between them.
Sasha zeroed in on her book and tried to concentrate on words that were making no sense over the tantalizing scent of his cologne. Heat pooled at her neck and flooded her face as she watched from the corner of her eye, as his slender fingers tapped against his thigh.
“That’s what I should have done,” he said.
“Uh?”
He lifted his square chin toward her book. “I should have brought something to read to kill some time.”
“Oh,” was all she could come up with.
“Are you going all the way to Antigua?”
“Yes. You?”
“Yep. First time?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“I’ve been there once. Beautiful place.” He drew in a breath and she gulped as his broad chest spread beneath his fitted black T-shirt. “Perfect weather, incredible beaches and the people are great. They have their share of poverty, but they try to keep that away from the tourists.”
“What brings you back? Business?”
“Something like that. What about you?”
She closed her book and was on the verge of telling him her amazing story, but remembered the clause in her contract. “Vacation.”
“Vacation? All alone?”
She wasn’t sure if his question was just curiosity or an indictment. “I…decided to be adventurous.”
One corner of his full mouth curved upward. “I like that. It takes a lot of courage to travel alone.” He paused. “Mitchell Davenport.” He stuck out his hand.
“Sasha Carrington.” She placed her hand in his and nearly sighed out loud when his warm fingers enveloped her hand, and his soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I should let you get back to your book. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Really.” She offered a small smile. Say something, dummy. “Do you live in Savannah?”
“Atlanta. I’ve been thinking of relocating to Savannah. I’ve been here about a month looking at places.”
“It’s a big change from the ATL,” she teased.
He chuckled and the sound shimmied down her spine. She squeezed her knees together.
“That it is. But I like the slower pace.” He paused for a moment. “Tell you what, how about I show you around Antigua, and if we’re still speaking to each other, maybe you can show me around Savannah when we get back.”
Sasha’s mind came to a screeching halt. Were her ears playing tricks on her? Did he actually just tell her he wanted to spend time with her on a Caribbean island?
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said when he got only a stunned look in lieu of a response. “That was out of line. You don’t know me from the man in the moon.” He suddenly stood up. “I’m going to go grab something to eat. Nice talking to you. Enjoy your trip.”
By the time her mind caught up with what was happening, Mitchell Davenport was three aisles away heading for the food court. She wanted to kick herself and could almost hear April’s cries of disbelief ring in her ears. She felt like a complete fool and wished she could disappear. Thankfully, a young couple and their little boy took up the vacant seats next to her. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about him coming back to pick up where they’d awkwardly left off. She buried her face in her book. Great start to my journey, she silently chided herself and hoped it wasn’t an indication of things to come.
Mitchell inched up on the line at Starbucks. That went well, he groused to himself, a testament to how his relationship life was going lately. What had he been thinking? That’s just it, he hadn’t been. He’d spotted Sasha Carrington the instant she’d materialized in the waiting area, and his good sense and his promise to himself to stay away from women flew out the window. She was gorgeous in an understated way, with a body to die for. She gave off an air of quiet assurance and was apparently unaware of her sensual appeal. He could still smell her soft, alluring scent and hear the way her voice stroked him from the inside out. It was completely out of character for him to trip over himself with a woman he didn’t know. But her rebuff had been a solid kick to his ego. It had reinforced his vow to remain focused on what was important: rebuilding his life and his business. Everything else could take a backseat. His ugly and painful breakup with Regina had taught him a major lesson: women don’t want a man who is down on his luck, who can’t provide for them in the fashion to which they’ve grown accustomed. He’d been devastated when Regina had told him that it was over at a time when he needed her love and support more than anything. He’d lost his restaurant and the bank had foreclosed on his home. He was struggling every day just to hold his head up, and Regina had decided she couldn’t or wouldn’t deal with his “issues,” as she called them. His manhood was attached to his wallet. And at the moment it was running on empty. But that was going to change, he thought as he paid for his purchase. If Regina did nothing else in the three years that they were together, she had taught him an invaluable lesson—no woman would ever again be able to call his manhood into question.
Mitchell returned to the waiting area and spotted Sasha just as she glanced in his direction. He made a point of walking to the other side of the waiting area to find a seat.
Sasha flinched. The warm, inviting look that she’d seen earlier in his eyes was definitely gone. If it was possible to look through someone, that’s exactly what Mitchell just did. Fine, she thought. Although it may have been April’s agenda for her to find a man—even temporarily—it wasn’t hers. Her goal was to win this competition. Period. She settled back in her seat and concentrated on her book. At least she tried to.
Finally the flight was called and boarding began. To Sasha’s dismay, Mitchell was seated in the row across the aisle from her, both of them with aisle seats.
“Need some help with that?” came the voice from behind her as she struggled to get her carry-on into the overhead rack.
She schooled her expression and turned around. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He was so close that she could see the light flecks of brown in his eyes. “Y-yes. Please.”
He took her heavy bag and lifted it like a loaf of bread, pushing it securely into place.
“Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said without inflection. He took his seat and fastened his seatbelt, reached into the pocket in front of him and pulled out one of the in-flight magazines.
Sasha followed suit and settled into her seat. The words of her novel danced a jig on the page. She wanted to say something, apologize for acting like a deer in the headlights, but the words wouldn’t come.
The stewardess made the routine announcements in preparation for takeoff, and moments later they were in the air. Mitchell put on his headphones, adjusted his seat and closed his eyes. Whatever Sasha may have figured out to say by way of an apology was moot now.
Throughout the three-hour flight Sasha stole sidelong glances at Mitchell. For the most part he had completely tuned her out and the world around him, except for when the flight attendant came through the cabin with refreshments. He took off his headphones