Page 4 of Dedicated Billionaire

“Yeah, we can make it,” he says. “Just hurry up and get on the tarmac. I’m ready to go right now.”

I end the call and swivel, mildly disappointed about the pretzel, but grateful that I won’t be twiddling my thumbs with the rest of these poor suckers for the next few hours. Then I turn and come face to face with one of them.

Damn it. It’s Carly. Hell, it’s not that she’s the last person I want to see. I knew she’d be at the resort for the annual vacation. I just didn’t expect to have to deal with her so soon. She clearly still hates my guts by the way her pretty blue eyes widen in horror when she recognizes me. Her hands go to her silky, jet black hair in the way they’ve always done when she’s flustered.

It’s too late to duck. She’s seen me, and the Hagels would disown me if I flat out ignored her and left her in the lurch. There’s no choice but to head over and offer her some help. Knowing Carly, she’ll primly tell me no, and make up some story about planning to spend half the night in the airport to keep from spending even a couple hours with me.

Good, that’s fine. At least I’ll have done my duty to Matt and his parents.

I stride over to her, grinning when she whips her head around as if looking for a place to hide as I get closer. She’s always been so cute when she gets perturbed. And I’ve always perturbed the hell out of her for some reason.

“You stuck?” I say after our stilted greeting.

“Yes,” she admits in the same way she’d have to admit she just committed a major crime. “Everyone is.”

“I’m not,” I say, smiling down at her. “So, you don’t have a backup plan for the flight?”

She shrugs, lifting one slender shoulder, causing the strap on her top to slide down her arm when she lowers it. It takes me a second before I realize my hand is lifting to smooth it back up, but she beats me to it with a scowl.

“I’ll probably get a hotel nearby and take a nap.”

“Or you could hop on my plane with me. We have to hurry though.”

“You have clearance to fly?” she asks incredulously.

“Of course,” I say, because for some reason I can’t help but want to get under her skin. Just a little, for old time’s sake. I thought this would be a nightmare, but being close to her is giving me a warm feeling I don’t mind at all. “Come on. The closest hotel is a shithole and not even you can pass that much time in your sketchbook.”

She raises one of her delicately arched brows as if to argue. I really think she’s going to say no she pauses for so long, looking at me like I’m something smelly she stepped in. It should offend me, since I’m trying to help her out, but it somehow makes her even cuter.

I start to step away, not about to miss the narrow take off window Mike has been granted. Nothing like getting caught in a storm at forty thousand feet. No need to plummet into a mountain today. I’m looking forward to this vacation too much.

“Fine,” she says, slinging the backpack she’s been gripping onto her shoulders. “Lead the way.”

She’s actually accepting my offer? Well, well, well. Things just got a lot more interesting.

***

The engine is already whirring as Carly struggles to shove her oversized backpack into the overhead compartment. I offered to carry it for her as we raced through the airport, but she clutched the strap and told me not to worry about it.

She’s tiny, barely reaching my shoulder, and the bag is about to topple down onto her head, so I nudge her out of the way, only just refraining from calling her Pipsqueak, her brother’s old nickname for her. For some reason she doesn’t seem like that little kid we used to tease until she was bright red and had steam coming out of her ears. I don’t want to antagonize her on the flight. She tries to hide it, but she can’t stand flying.

While I get our bags stowed, she looks around my plane, but I can’t gauge if she’s impressed or not. Her father has his own jet, but since she’s so wildly independent— and a bit stubborn— she rarely takes it. She’ll say it’s for environmental reasons, but I think it’s because she tries to distance herself from her parents’ sometimes smothering ways.

“Which airport was your checked luggage going to land at? We can arrange to have it sent to the resort once the storm clears.”

She turns and tells me she only has the carryon backpack. “I’m just staying a few days because of work. I don’t want to miss too much.”

Mike announces that we should buckle up so we both move to seats on opposite sides of the aisle as I ask her about her internship at the museum.

“You know about it?” she asks. “Oh of course. Matt.”

“He loves his gossip,” I say. “And he’s proud as hell of you. Me too, actually. Congrats on getting it. I hear it’s competitive.”

Her face glows as she tells me about it, and I find myself taken in by how much she clearly loves every second of it. Shecuts herself off abruptly with a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t want to bore you.”

How can she think I’m not interested? I’ve always thought it was amazing that she found her passion at such a young age and continued to stick with it. I’d had so many fleeting interests I was beginning to think I’d never find my calling until the team. It’s a shame she doesn’t think she can keep talking about the thing she loves to her heart’s content, because I’d be more than happy to keep listening. The way it makes her glow from within is mesmerizing and I can’t take my eyes off her pretty face, all big eyes and lush, pink lips in china doll pale skin that’s framed with those jet black curls.

We start rolling and she turns away, flustered again. My eyes drift downward, taking in the goosebumps on her arms in the sleeveless top. Eyes dropping even lower, I take in her tight little curves in a swingy skirt that reveals the tops of her smooth thighs that she’s squeezing together while bobbing her heels off the floor.

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