In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(51)

Stephan’s purchases were covered as well, though he hadn’t wracked up anywhere near the bill that I had.

“It’s wrong to allow him to do all of this, isn’t it?” I asked Stephan.

Stephan shrugged. “Why? He’s doing something nice and thoughtful. It’s not a crime to let him dote on you.”

Clark met us halfway through the parking lot, taking the shopping cart solicitously. He managed to both push it to the car and get our door opened before we could reach it.

I nodded at him, smiling warmly. “Thank you, Clark,” I told him.

He gave me a surprisingly shy smile in return. He was a large black man with a bald head and big dark shades. His suit looked expensive and professional. He looked so intimidating, but had the nicest smile. He nodded back politely.

“My pleasure, Ms. Karlsson,” he said, surprising me by knowing my last name.

I slid onto the cushy seat next to James. He was on the phone, his computer open. He didn’t look at me or speak, just placed a possessive hand on my knee as I sat next to him.

Stephan bounced into his seat, grinning. I could tell he loved getting the royal treatment, as we were today.

It went a long way towards silencing my protests. Denying myself something was easy. Denying Stephan, on the other hand…

James stayed on the phone as Clark started driving. He was giving short, crisp, cold answers to the poor soul on the other end. His hand would occasionally tighten on my leg, as he tensed. “If I need to find new management for my New York offices, I will do so. I expect a level of competency that you’re not proving to me at present.” He paused, gripping my leg.

He glanced at me absently, and his grip turned into an apologetic stroke.

Clark stopped the car, getting out and heading into a Sushi place. It must have been the one that James had been talking about. James just stayed on his phone, listening and squeezing my leg.

Clark was back in the car surprisingly quickly, his arms full of takeout bags. He began to drive again. I assumed we were headed home.

“How is it that I can be absent from every other property for weeks or months at a time, and things still run smoothly? It seems obvious to me that this is a management issue.” James’s voice was growing in agitation. I shot Stephan a look. He was on his phone, of course.

My hand covered James’s experimentally, then ran up to his arm, carefully avoiding the spot on his wrist with the thin lines of scars. I was avidly curious about those scars, but of course I wouldn’t ask. It would be inviting similar inquiries about myself.

I clutched the back of his bicep, rubbing tentatively. I wasn’t accustomed to this touching thing.

I leaned against him, putting my cheek to his back as he leaned forward. I moved my hand to his leg, the other to his shoulder to massage tentatively.

He froze at my touch. I started to pull back. He moved his phone away from his face.

“Don’t,” he told me, putting my hand back on his leg. Neither of us was used to me doing the touching, but it didn’t seem unwelcome.

I rubbed his leg lightly and he seemed to relax, bit by bit.

“Make it happen. This is your chance to prove yourself, for better or worse.” He ended the call, shutting his tiny laptop and stowing both into the bag near his feet.

He spared a brief glance towards an occupied Stephan. He grabbed the back of my head, gripping my hair firmly and kissing me. It was a hot kiss, and I tried to draw back. This was no way to act in front of Stephan. He gripped me tighter, sweeping a tongue into my mouth. I had just started to soften when he pulled back.

“It makes me wild when you touch me,” he whispered roughly. “Remember that the next time you touch me in front of other people. Having an audience or even being in public won’t stop me from touching you back. This is my only warning.”

He sat back, but pulled me hard against his side.

Was he somehow staking his claim in front of Stephan? I just couldn’t tell with him.

“How was the shopping?” he asked.

“Great. Thank you for, um, for buying everything.”

He surprised me by kissing me again roughly.

“Thank You. For all of those wonderful paintings that you so generously gave me, with no thought for recompense.”

I flushed. I wasn’t that comfortable with compliments in general, and praise for my painting was a novelty, since so few people had witnessed it.

Stephan finally put down his phone. He’d kept his painting in a bag and brought it into the car with us. He pulled it out, showing it proudly to James.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he said proudly. “She even built the frame.”

James studied the painting. “She is.”

“My whole house is covered in her paintings. Should we eat over there, so you can check it all out?”

James agreed readily. “Yes, thank you. And I have a favor to ask you, Stephan.” James arm tightened around me as he spoke, almost as though he was afraid I would try to get away at his next words.

“Sure, man. What’s up?”

“I’ve studied Bianca’s paintings extensively, and I think she has enough accomplished work for a gallery showing,” James began.

James casually covered my mouth when I tried to speak. “I have a gallery in New York. I can have my people handle all of the details. As you can see, she’s going to resist the idea. I need you to help me talk her out of her reservations.” He uncovered my mouth, but I was suddenly speechless.