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Taking His Risk (Year of the Billionaire #2) Page 5
Author: K.C. Falls

"It was only a six hour flight. Get your beauty rest. We can stay on the plane as long as you like."

It didn't take a lot of persuading for me to snuggle back against him and enjoy the sensation. It was the first time we had actually slept together. No matter what adventure he had planned for us, nothing was nearly as compelling at that moment as resting in the shelter of his arms. I turned onto my side and let the comfort of his body spooning against me lull me into a dreamless sleep.

He was gone when I woke up the next time. I shimmied over to his side of the bed and buried my face into his pillow. I could smell the faintest trace of him lingering there.

My robe was once again draped over the foot of the bed with the sash threaded through the loops at the waist. I smiled as I tied the satin belt around me recalling the role it had played in our bed the night before.

I found Tristan in the dining area of the plane when I emerged from the master suite. He was also back in his robe and was tending to the table. He had set our places and there was a silver coffee service waiting on the counter.

"Normally, I'd have a steward to take care of all this," he said sweeping his hand at the table, "but I wanted us to have complete privacy, at least until we began our little vacation. Then, all bets are off."

"Are you going to tell me where we are?" The window screens had been raised but when I looked out all I saw was the inside of a hanger. Nothing there gave me a clue as to where we had landed after our six hour flight.

"Béziers Cap d'Agde Airport is our precise location," he pronounced--as if that meant something to me. I had to have him repeat the name a couple of times before it stuck. He said it with a perfect French accent that nearly made me slide off my feet.

"Great. Am I safe in assuming we're somewhere in France?"

"Oui."

So far so good. I had been to France on my college backpack tour. Mostly I remembered the museums in Paris, the train ride to Arles and Avignon and expensive damn everything. It was going to be an entirely new experience to see the country from a different perspective.

"We're going to have breakfast and then we'll be on our way. Because out there," He pointed outside, "it's already lunch time." He motioned for me to sit down at the table. I poured myself a cup of coffee that smelled faintly of chocolate and almonds and doused it with a healthy dose of sugar and thick cream.

"I figured you for a 'coffee as dessert' kind of girl."

"Too true. Coffee is only a vehicle to deliver the sweet and the fat."

"You never drank coffee at all at the theater."

"How observant. You're right, I don't drink it at night. Keeps me up." I continued to be amazed and flattered that Tristan made note of the smallest details about me. Right down to the fact that I'd be the type to dig a girlie flavored coffee.

"The bakery delivered these this morning." There was a basket of warm breads--pain du chocolate, small salted hard rolls, and something with whole apricots that looked outstanding. "And you'll never taste better butter than this." Dipping his finger into the clay ramekin, he brought the buttered tip to my mouth and I licked it off. He was right, it was so far ahead of any butter I'd ever tasted that it shouldn't have borne the same name. His finger lingered on my lips and traced around the sensitive edges. I gave a small sigh of pleasure, both for the taste and for the touch.

He picked up one of the hard rolls and broke it in two. He slathered butter on one half for me and on the other for himself. He served us omelets with ham and cheese and hot fruit compote made with cherries, figs and hazelnuts.

"I have a feeling that food is going to be a key element in this trip. Am I right?"

"My darling, there is no point in eating swill when you can eat ambrosia." He took a mouthful of omelet and tasted it carefully. "This, for example, is pre-prepared airplane food. It was made yesterday and reheated this morning. If you were flying commercial, it would taste like over salted shit. However, made with real Emmental, Iberian ham and Amish farmed eggs it's actually worth eating. My chef takes special care not to over season, but you'll find the fresh herbs add far more flavor." He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Did you know that your sense of taste is diminished at high altitudes?"

"No," I mumbled as I tucked into the omelet with new found respect, "I didn't."

"Sadly, yes. Your delicate flavor, for example, was way too subdued when I dined on you last night." He flashed me his devil grin.

I flushed at the reminder. My body came to life so easily at his every suggestion. The things he said to me! Other men might mention 'good sex' or 'fantastic climax' but Tristan chose to recall my taste in his mouth.

We finished our omelets and he picked up my fruit cup and silently fed me. He held my eyes as the sweet tart taste filled my mouth. "Oh, god, that's too good," I told him. He seemed to get a big kick out of feeding me. I didn't mind at all. It was very sexy to have a man take such interest in my pleasure. He appeared determined to explore every sensual outlet I had. I was game.

***

I chose to wear pale peach shorts, pretty cream colored sandals and a cotton sleeveless sweater with a peach, rose and aqua weave. The sweater had a matching cardigan that I looped over my shoulders. The underwear I had to choose from stunned me. I wound up just choosing a random set, in white. Everything fit perfectly and felt like a billion bucks.

I twirled in the full length mirror. Very Berkshire Hills. Very sophisticated. Very grown up. I chose to twist my hair into a loose chignon at the base of my neck rather than leave it free. That added to the classy look.

There was a car waiting for us right outside the hanger. I was not surprised to see Kwan waiting to open the door for us to climb in.

"Hi Kwan," I smiled. "Were you on board the flight?" I wondered where Tristan had hidden his bodyguard.

"Ah, Miss Raina. Good morning." He gave me a big grin. After our fashion expedition, the coldness I felt in the beginning had completely disappeared. "Actually, I was the co-pilot. I told you I wear many hats."

"You are very talented. I wanted to thank you for helping set up my parents' security. My mother really took a shine to you. I think it made a big difference in how comfortable she felt with the whole thing."

"She and your father are in excellent hands. I know the two guys protecting them. I'd trust them with my life. We installed a state-of-the-art alarm system. And you mother told me you'd approve of the street level window bars."

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K.C. Falls's Novels
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