Ryan Reign (New York Ruthless #4)(7)

“Yep.” He grins at me. “We thought about getting one for ourselves, but we don’t fly enough to get the use out of it, and Alejandro lets us use his if it’s free.”

“Wow! But imagine just being able to jump in your own plane and go anywhere you fancy, like the Bahamas?” I flash my eyebrows at him and he slides an arm around my waist.

“Flying to places where you will spend most of your time in nothing more than a string bikini might just change my mind, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear.

I shiver in anticipation at the thought, but the moment is ruined by Erin walking up behind us. “Shall we board?” she purrs as she sashays past in cream pants and a cashmere cardigan. Even dressed for travelling, she is the picture of elegance, while I’m dressed in skinny jeans, a tank top and a hooded sweatshirt.

Shane rolls his eyes, but he takes my hand and follows her to the steps of the plane. He looks effortlessly classy too. In dark jeans and a white polo shirt, he looks just as hot as he does in a suit. I wish that Erin wasn’t on this flight with us. No matter what Shane says, I can’t help feeling inferior whenever I’m around her. And I know that she hates me. Even when I try to be nice to her, she just looks down her perfectly shaped nose at me.

I hold onto Shane’s warm hand and remind myself that this is just an eight-hour flight, and after we land in Ireland, I’ll get him all to myself, and hopefully we will have to spend only a minimal amount of time in Erin’s company.

As we board the plane, Shane introduces me to the pilot and co-pilot, Theo and Andrew, who give me a quick tour of the cockpit because I have never seen one before. Shane comes with me while Erin rolls her eyes at my lack of culture and goes to take her seat. Theo is young for a pilot, or so he seems to me, given that I’ve never met one before. He is tall and dark and handsome, while Andrew is slightly older and has sandy blonde hair. Both of them are charming and cute, but they have nothing on my Irish bodyguard who keeps his hand on my waist or my ass the whole time I’m in there. I can’t help but smile to myself because I love his possessive side.

As we walk into the cabin, I nearly bump into the stewardess. She is almost a carbon copy of Erin. Tall, blonde, skinny. “Jessie, this is Wendy,” Shane introduces her.

She smiles widely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says as she extends her hand.

“You too,” I smile back.

“This your first time flying?” she asks.

“No. I’ve flown coach a few times, but I’ve never left the States before and I’ve never been on a plane quite like this,” I look around at the spacious cabin which is tastefully decorated in cream leather, walnut and chrome.

“Yeah, this plane is quite something,” she giggles softly and I realize she is nothing like Erin. “If you could take your seats and I’ll be along to take your drinks order before we take off.”

“Thank you, Wendy,” Shane says.

“No problem, Mr. Ryan,” she purrs and I wonder if he has that effect on all women.

When we’re settled in our seats, which are as big as armchairs, Wendy comes back through. “Can I get you anything?” she asks.

“I’ll get a large Jameson on the rocks,” Shane says.

“Jessie?”

“Umm.” I shrug. “A Coke?” I don’t drink a lot and I get giddy enough flying without having alcohol too. My stomach grumbles loudly and Shane chuckles. I was too excited to have anything to eat before we left the house.

“Anything else?” Wendy smiles. “We’ll be serving a meal in a few hours, but we have snacks?”

“Cheetos?” I arch an eyebrow.

She nods her head. “Perfect.”

I sit back in my seat and look out of the window. I could get used to this kind of living. I can hear Wendy taking Erin’s order now. “A Dry Martini and some green olives,” she purrs and I roll my eyes. Even her order is classy. If that isn’t a perfect example of how different she and I are, then I don’t know what is.



After Wendy serves our drinks, the plane takes off and I watch out of the window like an excited toddler while Shane and Erin talk about some land he wants to sell now that his father is dead. I listen at first, until they start to discuss deeds and property law, and then I switch off and concentrate on the view.

“You okay?” Shane says as he leans forward and places his warm hand on my knee.

I turn to him. “Yeah, just admiring the view.”

“Me too,” he says quietly and my pulse quickens. Why is everything he does and says so damn hot? “You didn’t eat your Cheetos.” He nods to the bag on the small table beside me.

He reaches over and picks them up before opening the bag and eating one. He hands them to me and his fingers brush mine when I take them from him, sending sparks of electricity skittering over my skin.

“Those things will turn your insides orange,” Erin snipes as she pierces an olive with a cocktail stick before sucking it into her mouth.

“Maybe,” I shrug, “but they taste pretty good.”

“Hmm,” she sniffs as she looks at me.

If only to try and make this entire journey more bearable, I try to make conversation with her. “I’ve never tried olives,” I say as I toss a Cheeto into my mouth and chew, swallowing it before I add, “some guy I once worked with told me they taste like pussy.”