“I got it when I was in New York,” she said, biting her lip. Her eyes traveled down to his lips, which made him smile. His attractiveness really did suit him, at times.
“It’s exquisite,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “Just like its owner.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but one of the pilots poked their head through the galley door.
“Andrea?” the pilot said, looking a little confused.
She jumped up, looking like someone had just caught them in bed together.
“I have to go get him what he needs,” she said apologetically, rushing off.
When the door closed behind her, Cameron raised her guidebook, but he didn’t miss her smile.
“Does something amuse you?” he asked, leaning back in his seat.
“Me? No, definitely not,” she said, trying to suppress her smile.
“You’re smirking,” he said.
She looked at the book in her hands, lifting a shoulder casually.
“It’s just… it’s nice to see that even gorgeous people get shut down now and then,” she said, flipping a few pages of her guidebook.
“I’m gorgeous, am I?” he goaded her.
She flushed, closing her book and standing up. “You know, I think the stewardess forgot my drink.”
He watched as she let herself into the galley. She came back a few minutes later with her drink and a pair of headphones. Before he could say anything, she plugged her headphones into an iPod and closed her eyes.
She reclined her seat, making it plain that she didn’t want to banter with Smith any further.
He sighed, sipping his whiskey, and watched her. Her blue dress rode up her thigh on one side, giving him a glimpse of creamy skin. He shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t even be noticing, but he couldn’t help himself.
His problem wasn’t that he wondered what was beneath that skirt. His problem was that he already knew. He knew what she’d look like if she hiked up her dress, knew how it felt to sink himself between those honeyed thighs.
Fuck. He was hard just thinking about her pussy. Not to mention the fact that he knew she was a natural redhead, because he’d already stripped off her panties once before.
He adjusted himself, wondering if there wasn’t something to what his father had been saying. He could just let her whet his appetites…
His military background kicked in, making him ashamed of himself. He had joined the Special Air Service to get himself out of this exact mindset, that of the rich spoiled asshole.
He straightened up in his seat. He needed a distraction.
He got up and got his laptop. If he buried himself in spreadsheets and financial analyses, at least he wouldn’t be thinking about her.
Shaking his head at himself, he got to work.
Hours later, he was pulled from catching up on his emails by a particularly nasty bout of turbulence. He looked up when his laptop fell to the side.
He rubbed his temples, tired. He noticed that Cameron’s seat was empty; funny, he hadn’t noticed her getting up.
He stretched and set his laptop aside, ready to signal Andrea for a drink. A moment before he did, though, Cameron came through the door to the galley and the restrooms. She was headed back to her seat when turbulence hit again.
“Cameron!” he said as she stumbled toward him.
“Shit!” she cried.
She landed in a pile at his feet. The turbulence stopped and he helped her to her feet, but no sooner had she stood up than it started again.
They both tumbled into his bench seat, Cameron on Smith’s lap. The touch of her skin to his was like he’d put a fork in an electrical outlet, if that sensation could be said to be pleasurable.
Touching Cameron was alarming, but in a good way. The turbulence continued, and the pilot’s voice came over the speaker.
“Sorry, Mr. Calloway,” said the pilot. “We should be through this patch in a minute. Just hang tight for a bit.”
Smith looked at Cameron, who still had a startled expression on her face. He smirked.
“Guess you’ll have to hold onto me,” he said.
Cameron looked at him as the turbulence slowed. She didn’t say anything, but he noticed gooseflesh break out over her bare skin.
They were so close now, and the pleasant buzz of contact continued. She bit her lip, her eyes dropping to his mouth.
Before he could say or do anything, her mouth was on his.
She kissed him, the taste of her cinnamon-sweet. Her tongue played with his, teasing. He groaned and sank both his hands into her hair, his body hardening.
The intercom speaker crackled again, which brought them both to their senses. Cameron pushed herself off of him.
“We should be turbulence free for a while now,” the pilot said.
Smith looked at Cameron.
“That was what I was talking about, when I said we’d be sharing close quarters,” he said, straightening his shirt.
She frowned, making her way back to her seat. “What are you saying?”
He shrugged, picking up his laptop. She put her headphones back in and closed her eyes, but he could tell she was fuming. Her red hair was disheveled just a bit.
Damn, but she was sexy when she was angry.
He spent the rest of the flight trying not to think about the way she’d felt. The weight of her on top of his body, the way she’d sunk into him and kissed him.
She just sat there, not looking at him. Smith found it beyond frustrating. It seemed like the whole cabin was filled with their tension, and there was no escaping it.
When the flight finally landed in Paris, he sighed with relief. He was down the plane’s stairs before he realized that he had to spend the limo ride with her.
“This is us?” she asked, pointing to the limo as she walked down the plane’s stairs.
“Yes,” he said, walking over to the limo and opening the door.
He climbed inside with his laptop case and briefcase, impatient. She slid in the other side while the chauffeur loaded their luggage. Smith looked away from Cameron, unsure how he was supposed to feel.
The chauffeur rolled down the partition.
“Où est-ce que je vous emmène?” the driver asked.
“Les Quatre Saisons, s'il vous plaît,” Smith answered.
He noticed that Cameron did a double take when she heard him speaking French fluently. He smirked as the limo pulled off. There were a lot of things that she didn’t know about him.
Soon they began to see The City of Lights, as it was often called. It was early evening here, so the restaurants and shops were just beginning to turn on their lights. They drove past a couple of the big sights in Paris, like the Sacre-Coeur, the Moulin Rouge, and the Arc de Triomphe.
It was pretty phenomenal, seeing the city light up like that.
Cameron looked out the window, her eyes wide. He knew it was her first time in Paris, but anyone could guess from her reaction that it was all new. It was almost endearing to watch, he had to admit.
When they got to the hotel, Smith swept out of the limo and into the gray brick building. The grand marble lobby awaited,