As she entered the first-class cabin and spotted her seat, a smile of anticipation crossed her lips. Oh, this was definitely the way to fly! There was so much room. Plenty of space for her carry-on bag, her feet, her entire body. She might actually be able to catch a few hours of sleep. Not that she wanted to miss out on a moment of this experience, but she was exhausted from the sleepless nights this week, and then those frustrating hours of waiting in the terminal.
A blanket, pillow, and headphones were sitting in the large seat, and a bottle of water waited for her on the adjoining table. Putting her bag under the seat in front of her, she sat down with a wide smile as the flight attendant approached.
“Would you care for a drink?”
It had been hours since she’d ingested a single thing, and Alyssa desperately wanted something to eat and drink, but she didn’t want to be a fool and ask whether there was a charge. All she had was the small emergency cash fund that she’d stuffed into her purse that morning, and she was holding on to that as tightly as humanly possible.
“Not right now,” she replied. She’d have to look through the airline magazine first, find out whether precious dollars would be required.
“Let me know if you need anything before takeoff.” With that, the pleasant flight attendant turned around and assisted other first-class passengers who were gradually filling up the cabin.
After grabbing the magazine, Alyssa was thrilled when she found the page describing first class. Not only were the drinks free, but so were the two meals she’d receive. Meals! Not just pretzels! Her stomach rumbled when she read the options.
“Mmm, this will be a nice flight,” she murmured, feeling giddy and finding that she was having to stifle an excited giggle.
“I certainly hope so. It’s been delayed long enough.”
Alyssa’s head snapped up to encounter a side view of Mr. Whitman as he slid into the aisle seat next to her.
“You’re sitting here?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“I hope so,” he said with a smirk as he placed his bag underneath the seat in front of his.
“Would you care for a drink?” The flight attendant was back, her smile just a bit more radiant than when she’d spoken to Alyssa a moment earlier.
“Yes, please. A gin and tonic,” he answered, barely glancing at the woman.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Alyssa said before the attendant could turn away. “I’ll have a vodka and orange juice.”
“I see you’re in a much happier mood,” her neighbor said.
Why was she sitting here? And why was he speaking to her? The last she’d seen of him had been the back of his head as he’d practically run away from her. So, of course, being a woman who didn’t seem to have a filter when it came to speaking her mind, Alyssa had to make a comment.
“Do you always have that smirk on your face?”
He seemed startled by her question, but then he chuckled.
“I guess I do,” he said before pausing for a few moments while he just looked at her with those intense eyes. “I never did introduce myself,” he finally said, not holding his hand out this time. “Jackson Whitman.”
The flight attendant returned with their drinks and Alyssa took a grateful sip. She definitely had to make the most of this. She’d never be able to afford first class again, and she hoped to heaven that it wouldn’t kill her when she had to go back to the pits of coach.
Jackson pulled out some papers and read quietly while he sipped his beverage. Alyssa found her eyes glued to the small window next to her, the activity going on outside the plane oddly fascinating.
Bags were loaded, small carts darted around the tarmac, then the jet bridge was pulled back, and soon the airplane was gliding easily away from the gate. After the plane began moving forward, it wasn’t long before they were racing down the runway and then lifting into the air.
This part had always made her clutch her seat in fear in the past, but now it was different. Maybe it was the smooth ascent. Maybe it was the comfort of her seat, or maybe the vodka had helped ease her fears. Whatever it was, her heart pounded only a little harder, and the hairs on the back of her neck weren’t standing straight up.
Yep. This was going to be a great flight. Okay, it would be as long as she didn’t think about the fact that they were high in the sky over a huge body of water that would prove harder than cement if they plummeted into it.
Nope. Alyssa wasn’t going to think that way. The one and only time she flew first-class was not going to end with her becoming fish bait.
When the flight attendant brought an appealing plate of appetizers and placed it on her tray, Alyssa decided the night was just going to get better and better. Jackson seemed engrossed in his papers—he picked food off his plate without paying attention to what he was eating—but Alyssa didn’t need him to entertain her.
He might be used to this life, and people might think a model was used to it, too, but only the lucky ones got this sort of treatment. She hadn’t been in that mix. So she was going to enjoy every second and dream about it later.
If only her eyes would quit straying to the sensual man beside her, she’d have been a lot more pleased. But, hey, when a man looked that good, it was a law that he had to be looked at, right? Man candy, her mother would call him.
That thought made her giggle aloud, causing the man she was thinking about to turn his head, and suddenly she was caught by those simmering brown eyes.
Why wasn’t he striking up a conversation with this woman? After all, Jackson had been the one who’d ensured that she would sit by him. He’d been reading the same line on this damn document for the last thirty minutes, his thoughts on the petite blonde next to him.
Of course, she wasn’t really blond; she was more—what was it called?—strawberry blond. There were natural highlights running through the silken strands of her hair, and he had a powerful urge to run his fingers through it. Never before had he wanted so badly to pull a woman close and slowly bring their mouths together. Sure, he always wanted sex, but this strong sensation in his gut was absurd.
Jackson stopped pretending to read and instead gave in to what he wanted to do. He reached confidently across the short distance between them and let his fingers glide down her long tresses, startling her.
Yes. Her hair was as soft as it looked. He always loved when women grew their hair out, loved how it would fall across their naked backs in a plunging gown, or how it would fall forward against their cheeks. And there was nothing sexier to him than a woman straddling his lap, her hair cascading down to cover her luscious breasts in a game of hide-and-seek. He shifted in his seat as his pants grew tight at the thought of sharing such an intimate moment with a woman he’d only just met.