Page 186 of By His Rule

“Thank you,” I mutter insincerely as he places it on the bed. “I need to get ready. Wait for me in the living room?”

For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to agree and instead insist on staying to watch. But after a few seconds, he finally walks out again.

“Why did I agree to this job exactly?” I ask myself.

“I heard that,” he calls, amusement laced through his tone.

Despite Kian’s insistence that he should get priority due to the amount of money his family and the company spend on flying every year, I fail to get through to the airline on our journey to the airport.

As we walk toward the check-in desk, we’re at risk of missing the flight I had originally booked for him.

“Good morning,” Kian says curtly to the man standing at the entrance to the first class and business line. “Kian Callahan. We’re flying to Charleston.”

“Callahan?” he asks, tapping his screen.

“Yes,” Kian sighs in exasperation.

I get it. It’s too early for this shit.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have you flying first or business with us today.”

Kian instantly turns to look at me.

“Oh, whoops,” I say innocently. “I think I booked you an economy seat.”

His face morphs into one of pure frustration, and I find it hard not to smirk in response.

Don’t mess with me, asshole.

I raise a brow.

He never demanded that I book him a first-class seat, just like he didn’t tell me to book two. What’s a girl to do?

Kian turns his glare back to the airline assistant, who, unlike me, withers under his intense stare. “I am an Executive Platinum member. There’s been a mistake. I need to book two first-class seats on the flight to Charleston this morning.”

The man practically trips over himself before suggesting that we follow him to the desk.

Much to Kian’s irritation, we can’t get on our original flight unless we accept economy seats. Obviously, I didn’t have an issue with that. I’ve only ever flown economy and probably always will. But that isn’t good enough for Kian Callahan, so we have no choice but to hang around the airport for a few hours to catch the next flight.

“Let’s go,” he barks once we’ve got our boarding passes.

His hand grabs mine and I’m all but dragged toward security, which we fly through because of his fancy members’ card.

“Sit,” he demands once we’ve been welcomed into the first-class lounge at Chicago O’Hare.

“Could you please be more demanding? I just love it so much,” I deadpan, trying not to look awed by my surroundings.

He stills and glares down at me.

A shiver rips down my spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something very, very different.

His dark, angry eyes bore into mine, and my temperature soars.

I’ve always known that I’m a little fucked up when it comes to men. It’s why I keep falling for the wrong ones and getting my heart broken. But this really takes the cake.

I should be scared, but I’m not in the slightest.

His nostrils flare, and his eyes widen. “You booked me in economy.”

---