"You know I can't give you that kind of funding if you don't give me some control over the airline," I told him for at least the tenth time.
He smiled at me. It was a con man's smile. I wasn't impressed. "You know you can trust me to keep this ship afloat by doing things my way," he said.
I didn't know that. What I did know was that if he kept running things 'his way,' the airline would be bankrupt in a hurry, and grounded soon after that. I couldn't invest in it, not even for the sake of nostalgic childhood memories. The man ran his company like it was a game, throwing money around like he was getting his gambling fix. If he wouldn't give up control, I would just be prolonging the inevitable, burning pointlessly through millions in the process.
"Will the flight crew be staying in New York?" I asked him, changing the subject. I was sick of talking in circles.
"No. They all turn around and go back to Las Vegas. Why?"
I shrugged. "Just curious." I'd considered getting Bianca's number from him, or even her schedule, but I knew he wouldn't cooperate. He'd just see it as something he could use as leverage. I'd find another way.
I didn't even get a moment alone with her as we deplaned, though I tried. Fucking Bram lingered, though, so I just nodded at her. "A pleasure, Bianca," I told her on my way out, my mind coming up with the numerous ways that I planned to pleasure her in the very near future.
It was a graphic visual.
"A pleasure, Mr. Cavendish," she repeated back politely.
Not yet, I thought, but it will be.
I parted ways with Bram as soon as I could, striding swiftly towards where I knew Clark would have a car waiting at the curb.
I nodded at him as I slid into the backseat.
"To the hotel?" he asked with a raised brow.
"To the apartment," I said. I could tell he was surprised by that answer. I rarely quit working this early in the day. I knew it was useless to even try to work just then, though. I couldn't concentrate on a damn thing. My mind was stuck on that woman . . .
Clark began to drive, but he kept shooting me questioning looks in the rearview. "You meeting a woman, sir?" he asked.
It was a nosy question, but I was used to it. The man was so good at his job, and had been working for me for so long, that he'd gone beyond the role of employee to that of a friend, and we both knew he could say whatever he wanted and I wouldn't be offended. "No, Clark."
"Maybe you should. You look like you could use one."
I shot him a sardonic look. It was disconcerting how well he could read me. "No, but I need you to find one for me, actually. Her name is Bianca."
"No last name?" he asked without missing a beat. It wasn't as though I asked him to find women for me often. He was just an unflappable kind of guy.
"No. She's a flight attendant, and her name is Bianca. That's all I know."
"Walker's airline?"
"Yes."
"Physical description."
"Tall, blonde . . . beautiful. She looks like a model. I need her schedule ASAP. I could also use a number, address, anything you can get your hands on, really."
He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. It'll be a pain in my ass."
"I'll be eternally grateful."
"I know."
I felt a little lost when I walked into my apartment. I'd taken the afternoon off. But to do what? If I weren't acting like a besotted fool over a stranger, I'd have called one of the five women I knew that were in the city who could cater to my specific needs. I had no desire to, though, and that was the problem.
I felt dazed as I walked directly to the master bathroom, stripped down, and got into the shower. I didn't use cold water, but steaming hot. I closed my eyes and leaned against the tiled wall, picturing those devouring blue eyes of hers again. They'd been steady, but so submissive, as though she knew just what I needed from her.
Needed, I thought. Yes, that was the word.
I soaped my hand, stroked my throbbing c**k and remembered how she'd blushed for me, and her little smile, and of course, those mesmerizing eyes.
Fuck, I thought in shock, coming in a few short strokes. And worse, that release wasn't enough. I was jerking myself off again within a few short moments. I felt like a teenager again, jacking myself off repeatedly in the shower.
I didn't even consider finding a woman to ease myself with. That was the worst of it. I knew I would find more satisfaction just thinking about her, than actually having another woman.
Bianca was trouble for me, I knew it, and still, I didn't give a f**k. I was going to have her.
I brought myself to another orgasm, gripping my length tightly, then began stroking again before I'd even finished, in danger of rubbing my own c**k raw, thinking about a woman that I'd never even seen naked.
I thought about her body that time, about that neat little dress suit covering delectably round br**sts, slender hips, and the best pair of legs I'd ever seen. I stroked my c**k harder.
I remembered the delicate wrist I'd studied as she'd served me. I pictured tying those wrists to my bed as I jerked hard on my aching c**k and came again with a rough groan.
It was early, but that didn't stop me from drying off and going straight to bed. I dreamed that night about silky blonde hair and pale blue eyes that I could lose myself in.
I'd only met her once. Why did it feel like I'd wanted her forever?
CHAPTER THREE
MY PURGATORY
PRESENT
"What will I do if she doesn't make it through this? How is it possible that I could find something, someone like this, and then lose it? What's the point of it all?"
And what about Stephan? He was in worse shape. What would I do if he didn't make it? How would I tell her a thing like that?
She was in surgery, and they weren't giving me nearly enough information to cope. I knew she was getting the best care possible, but it didn't help alleviate the purgatory I was experiencing as I waited to see if it would be enough.
Tristan's eyes were sympathetic in a way that let me know he'd been through hell and back, too. He existed every day in a purgatory of his own, I knew.
The poor bastard.
"First of all, she's going to pull through this," he said quietly. "I know it. The fact that she's still breathing, after everything that happened tells us that. But also, James. About the how, and the why. A love like that makes you better, even if you lose it all, even if it was for one precious moment in your life, you can't be sorry that you had it. Trust me on this."