Need You Now (1001 Dark Nights)(15)

“No,” I say and because I need to fill the space between us with something other than all the heat he stirs in me, I overshare, saying the only thing that comes to mind. “The closest thing I’ve ever come to this was first class with stepfather number three. Unfortunately, he was also very into women who weren’t my mother.”

He steps closer, angling so that I have to face him. “How many stepfathers have you had?”

“I’m on number four.”

“Where’s your father?”

“He died of cancer when I was thirteen.”

“Were you close to him?”

“Yes. He was...everything to me and to my mother.” I shake my head, irritated that I let him rattle me enough to get me talking about things better left unsaid. “Don’t we need to go?”

He doesn’t move, his expression unreadable, and nervous energy has me ready to crawl out of my skin. “Please stop staring at me. I shouldn’t have told you that. I don’t know why I did.”

“I’m glad you did,” is all he says, giving me no idea what he was thinking or why he’d been staring at me. “Let’s board,” he adds, his hand coming down on my back, a gentle touch that could be casual. It doesn’t feel casual. It feels intimate, seductive, right in as many ways as it is wrong, and I don’t move away or object. I let him touch me, and I revel in every moment until his hand falls away and I am holding the handrail and taking the steps.

Entering the plane, I find two seating areas to my left and right, each with a seat facing each other, and farther down the row is a restaurant style booth and a mini bar. I turn to face Jensen and gasp as I find myself toe-to-toe with him, my hand flattening on his chest just as it had last night.

I suck in air and snatch it away, not daring to make eye contact. “Where’s the bathroom? Front or back of the plane?”

“Back of the plane,” he tells me, and there is a hint of amusement to his voice that tells me my reaction to our touch is far more transparent than I want it to be with a man who’s made me off limits.

“Thanks,” I murmur, rotating to drop my briefcase on the seat to my right. Rushing down the slim aisle, I dig out my cell phone from my purse as I walk and the instant I’m inside the tiny bathroom stall, I dial Katie. Frustratingly, the call goes direct to voice mail and I quickly send her a detailed text. I stare at the screen and will her to reply, giving up after a full minute of nothingness.

Looking up, I stare at myself in the mirror, swiping at the wild mess that is my long blonde hair, wishing I had on more than the barely-there outline of lipstick that remains. I start to dig out the tube from my purse and stop myself. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to look good for Jensen. And who else would I look good for on this plane? I zip my purse again and give myself another inspection in the mirror, trying to find the woman I know as me who would not let herself be this out of control. She’s sure not on the plane right now and she needs to get her ass on board.

Inhaling, I open the door, willing myself to focus on the business at hand. Jobs are on the line. My job is on the line. I don’t know how I became the person convincing Jensen to stay invested in the hotels, but I have, and the pressure is immense.

Moving down the aisle again, I find Jensen sitting in the lounge area where I’d dropped my bag, and I know I should sit with him. I know I should, but I’m hoping to reach Katie before we take off and need at least a little privacy. Snatching my bag, I don’t look at him as I sit in the opposite lounge area, buckling up and digging my iPad from my briefcase.

“Afraid I’ll bite?”

I glance over at him. “No, but I do and I figure that might get me kicked off the plane.”

“Depends on why you do it and how hard.”

My lips part in surprise and he laughs, and I try to be scandalized—after all, he still could be married and now he’s my boss, even if he doesn’t claim that title. Sort of. Isn’t he? Either way, it doesn’t seem to matter, though. I love his laugh too much. It’s deep. It’s raw and male, and it’s sexy. The effect has me hyperaware of him, and I have to cross my arms in front of my chest when, to my complete and utter disbelief, my nipples suddenly tighten all over again, my body seemingly no longer under my control but his. Even with “Mad Max,” who I was really attracted to at first, I was never out of sorts like this. Desperate for a distraction, I power up my iPad, trying to tune out the sensations I’m feeling.

“No response?” he queries.

“No response,” I confirm, pulling up my e-mail to start answering what I can before we’re in the air, but my brain is such mush, I only manage to clear four queries from my box before we’re moving.

We start to taxi down the runway and I change my screen to my MCAT study guide. The moment we lift off in the air, I dare to glance in Jensen’s direction to find him deeply immersed in some document he’s studying. His profile is strong, his personality stronger. Maybe he’s a bastard like Meredith accused him of being, but I’m not so sure. Why does being successful and having drive mean you’re a bastard? I’m not na?ve. My mother has assured that, and I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I still really need to believe in people the way my father always did.

Jensen looks up as if he senses my attention, and for several seconds we just look at each other. We seem to do a lot of that, but then we aren’t touching each other, so what else is there? I guess that’s why I don’t look away. I can’t say really. I just...don’t. And he doesn’t and everything I’d felt just looking at him last night gets more clear and present every time we do this. There is something about this man that drags me into the center of some erotic spell and wraps me up all tight and warm. And it’s dangerous. So very dangerous. I don’t know if he’s that bastard. I don’t know what his agenda is. I don’t know if he’s really married. That’s the one that gets to me.