Page 18 of Boss With Benefits

Why?

You won’t be needing any.

The audit had wrapped up to her satisfaction, bang on time on Friday afternoon, and she hadn’t stuck around to celebrate for long. She’d gone for one quick drink with her team, but she’d been too distracted by her own scorching thoughts to stay.

Now, the car that Adam had sent for her was drawing up to the jet that stood on the tarmac and shone bright white in the early morning sun. The driver opened the rear passenger door and Ella climbed out. Her entire body thrumming with adrenaline, she thanked him and then walked up the steps as if she did this sort of thing all the time. She ducked her head and entered the cabin to find Adam had beaten her to it. He was sitting on a buttoned sofa in a space that—with the low lighting, sumptuous furnishings and highly polished wood décor—looked more like the cocktail bar in which they’d met than any plane she’d ever been on.

Watching her with an intensity that ramped up the thrills whizzing through her to an almost intolerable level, he got to his feet, and immediately the cabin seemed to shrink in size and run out of air.

‘Good morning,’ she said breathlessly while trying to keep it cool because a crew member was flitting about, so they weren’t alone.

‘Good morning,’ he said, his voice deep, low and tinged with a roughness that made her shiver. ‘Come and join me.’

Giddy with the realisation that there was no longer any need to keep her distance, Ella did as he suggested. She walked towards him, feeling as though she were tied to the end of a rope he was slowly hauling in, and when he sat, so did she. The cream leather sofa was comfortable but small. Her knee was inches from his. His intoxicatingly masculine scent instantly enveloped her, and she fizzed so badly with the need to touch him that she had to sit on her hands.

‘Coffee?’

‘Thank you.’

He turned a fraction and leaned forward to pour her a cup. His shoulder brushed hers as he moved, and she nearly leapt out of her skin. She was never going to last the flight if she carried on like this, she thought despairingly, letting out a long slow breath and willing her heart rate to slow. She had to calm down. She really did. And what was there to be jittery about anyway? She was being ridiculous.

Mentally giving herself a firm shake, Ella accepted the cup he offered her with a hand that she was pleased to see was now as steady as a rock and took a fortifying sip.

‘How was the show?’ she asked, referring to the Broadway play he’d attended last night with Annabel and stamping out the voice that was whisperingdirty little secretin her ear, because this was nothing like the illicit affair she’d had with Drew. Adam had been very clear about what he wanted from her. Exactly why he too was interested in no strings or complications was irrelevant. They were on the same page. That was the mainthing. And this time round, she had herself under control. Mostly.

‘Interminable,’ he replied. ‘How were the drinks?’

‘Short.’

Even though she could look at him forever, to do so was sorely testing her resolve. So as the engines fired, she glanced around, her curiosity piqued, her auditing antennae quivering despite being on leave. ‘Is this the company jet?’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

Her gaze swung back to his. A gleam lit the blue depths of his eyes. The ghost of a smile played at his mouth, and she wanted to kiss him so badly she ached with it. ‘You hired one just for me?’

‘Iboughtone just for you.’

For a moment, Ella didn’t know what to say. Her brain had completely stalled. She’d never had anyone go to such lengths to address her concerns or want her so much that they bought a plane to facilitate a three-week fling. Drew, who, mortifyingly, had not had to woo her at all because somehow she’d thrown her self-respect out of the window along with her sanity and slept with him the night he’d chatted her up, hadn’t even bought her dinner. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘I’m regretting it doesn’t have a bed.’

That was indeed a shame, she thought, swallowing hard in response to the smoulder with which he was looking at her. ‘How long is the flight?’

‘It’s five hours to Aruba. From there, fifteen minutes in a seaplane.’

‘I believe it’s called delayed gratification,’ she said, wondering how on earth she was going to stand it.

‘I believe it’s called torture.’

‘What shall we do to occupy the time?’

‘How about I tell you everything I intend to do to you when we land?’

A flush hit her cheeks. Her pulse rate rocketed. Her lungs seemed to have collapsed. ‘Will that take five hours?’

‘More.’

Oh dear God. ‘We have company.’

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