Page 29 of Fast-Track Fiancé

‘Yes, the day of the...crash.’ He inhaled, releasing his breath slowly before lowering himself down into the seat opposite hers.

Nina leaned forward, placing both of her hands upon his knees and squeezing gently. ‘That must be an incredibly difficult thing to manage, all by yourself.’

He nodded once as he stared determinedly at the window. ‘I didn’t remember much of the accident itself for weeks afterwards, a temporary blackout of sorts. It’s quite common, apparently. But I had dreams, and in the dreams... I heard the noise of the engines getting louder, the sounds of screaming, the rushing of wind. Everything after that... I lost. I woke up in a hospital bed with my mother sobbing by my side telling me that my uncle was gone. For a long time what I felt was anger. And a lot of confusion as to why I’d survived when he hadn’t. I was young, selfish and more expendable than he was in the grand scheme of things.’

‘You survived something truly terrible. That’s not something anyone could predict or control.’

‘Therapy helped me to see that eventually. I’ve worked through every stage of grief in the past decade but eventually I decided to help myself and step up within the Falco company and take the reins. But the flying... Still brings me to my knees every time.’

Her heart ached for the brave man in front of her and the senseless pain that he’d been put through. Life could be so unimaginably cruel sometimes, but she felt such relief that he had survived that accident. She would guess his mother felt the same relief too. As the pilot came online to say they were about to take off, Tristan closed his eyes.

‘Let me stay with you?’ she asked gently. Knowing that if he asked her to leave, she would.

‘Please,’ he said simply.

That one word lit up something in her chest, warming her through as she took the seat alongside him and they both did up their belts. As the plane ascended, Tristan’s breathing became laboured but his hand didn’t drop hers. She remained silent by his side as he worked through it at his own pace, not rushing him or trying to guide his panic. Just letting him be.

When a flight attendant came to interrupt them, Nina politely shooed them away, placing the ‘do not disturb’ sign upon the outside of the cabin door, and waited.

Tristan became aware of his surroundings in flashes of colour. The white of the closed cabin door. The blue of his jeans. The dark curtain of Nina’s soft hair as she leaned over him and wrapped him in her embrace. He pulled her onto his lap, tightening his grip on her as he inhaled and exhaled deeply.

As the panic faded, there was only her. Only Nina. She peppered his face with kisses, gentle at first, but quickly he felt her breath hitch and her hips jerk.

‘Is this still a part of your plan to distract me?’ he asked.

She laughed against his cheek as he trailed his own kisses down the side of her neck, but he felt the speed of her arousal in her heartbeat against his lips.

‘I’ve clearly unleashed a sex-mad woman, mi amor.’

The endearment slipped from his lips as smoothly as air and he felt her stiffen momentarily, her eyes gliding to his in a question he answered quickly with a deeper, much more demanding kiss. His heart hammered in his chest, not with anxiety but with the utter unpractised uncertainty that came with every interaction with this maddening woman. She made him feel godlike and uncertain all at once.

‘You just love to flatter yourself,’ she breathed, fighting to hide a groan as his hands cupped her breasts through the stretch material of her T-shirt.

‘Tut-tut. Always fighting me.’ He smacked one palm lightly upon her behind in faux punishment. ‘Why do you have to wear such sensible clothing?’

‘You’d prefer if I walked onto the plane in a diamond-encrusted thong?’

‘If I had it my way, you’d never be clothed. Ever.’

‘That might get in the way of safety regulations when I drive.’

The reminder of her safety, of her career, made him want to hold onto her even tighter. It made him feel as if he was losing control all over again, only this time it had nothing to do with his traumatic past and everything to do with the very perfect, very alive woman straddling him. He leaned his head between her breasts, fighting off the urge to make demands he knew he had no right to make.

‘What are you thinking?’ she whispered, her soft, perfect lips tracing a path along the side of his neck.

‘I’m just thinking, these tight-fitting yoga pants pose a challenge to the very despicable things I want to do to you. A challenge...but not an impossible one.’

He showed her just how very possible it could be, while the hum of the jets coupled with the closed cabin door provided just enough privacy to conceal her loud groan as she sank down onto his length. Her eyes met his in innocent question as she tested her movements and he was reminded once again how new she was to this. How he was the only person who ever had seen her this way, so wild and hungry for release. How it made him feel possessive, as though he’d stumbled upon a rare gem in the rubble and he needed to keep it all for himself.

Dios, she was...unmatched. And he was becoming completely undone just by looking at her as she braced her hands on his chest and began to grind her perfect body over him. The pressure of keeping quiet made everything more intense and he lost control at the exact moment she came apart.

Afterwards, he kept her on his lap, his hands stroking through her hair as she asked questions about his home city of Buenos Aires, about his family and his childhood. He knew she was still distracting him, but he was grateful for it as he described his father’s close-knit family and how they compared with the much more crusty, upper-class Falco clan. How the world had reacted when Dulce Falco had recently announced her engagement and upcoming wedding after decades of being a content widow. How, in the wake of his public cuckolding by Victor and Gabriela, Dulce had decided that matchmaking was all the support he needed. His mother had always been a big character in his life and something warmed within him when Nina openly chuckled at his description of the recent bizarre and hilarious matchmaking attempts he’d endured at his mother’s behest.

‘It makes sense now, why you needed a fake fiancée so quickly,’ she mused, the aftermath of her mirth still spilling from the corner of her smiling eyes.

‘Yes, but she will demand the real thing soon enough. She’s found love again and has settled into retirement so naturally she’s now decided I have to give her the big society wedding and the grandchildren she craves. Getting married herself clearly isn’t enough.’

Nina stilled in his arms, her lips curving down. ‘What about what you want?’

---