Page 10 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

CHAPTER 7

Gloria

Confession: I was back to being out of control. This devastating man had just saved me. Yet again.

Still shaken by my near-death encounter, I sat as far away as possible from Jaime in the back seat of the chauffeured sedan as we cruised down the A2 en route to Le Bourget Airport. I busied myself with my iPhone, catching up on emails and texts. He sat smugly by the other window reading the International Herald Tribune. Despite the silence between us, I could hear electricity buzzing in the air. My heart pitter-pattered. The effect this sex god had on me was infuriating.

“Aren’t you even going to thank me for saving your ass?” he asked without as much as lifting his head up from the newspaper.

“Thanks.” I scrunched up my face and hissed the word at him.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Long.”

The snarky way he said my name made me cringe. He knew just how to get to me.

“And by the way, I would like to spank it sometime.”

Despite my ire, hot tingles spiraled through my body at the thought of his large hand coming down on my backside. I could feel the delicious sting as I gazed down at the double diamond ring on my finger. Even more stunning in the daytime, the two entwined hearts glistened. The ring was an antique…it had a history. My mind wandered off. Who had worn this ring before me? Definitely a beautiful woman. A flapper? A muse? A princess? And who had given it to her? In my mind’s eye, I imagined a dashing French aristocrat getting down on one knee proposing to his stunning true love. While Jaime’s eyes remained glued to his Tribune, I googled toi et moi ring. I was shocked to read that Napoleon had given one to his fiancée Josephine and that the ring had recently sold at auction for almost one million dollars. Originating in the nineteenth century, the two-stone ring symbolized the eternal union of two souls. Had Jaime known this when he bought the ring? Knowing the issue he had with his father’s tragic failed marriage, matrimony couldn’t possibly be in his future. There was no doubt in my mind he feared abandonment—and therefore, commitment. I stole another glance at him. God, that chiseled, blue-eyed face was spectacular. I yearned to turn it my way and sink my lips into his. Stop it, Gloria! Read! I silently chided. This man is lethal. It’s all one big game to him. With a fire burning in my heart, I went back to my emails.

Thick silence prevailed between us until we reached Le Bourget. The limo brought us to a special terminal designated for private planes. Just my luck. His company plane, with the bold orange letters “ZAP!” scrawled across it, was parked next to the hot pink and white Gloria’s Secret corporate jet. The sooner I was aboard, the better.

A young ginger-haired steward who I recognized rushed up to me. “I’m afraid, Ms. Long, I have some bad news.”

Now what?

“The maintenance team is reporting engine trouble. They may have to replace a part.”

“Engine trouble” were two words I never wanted to hear. My stomach knotted. “How long will that take?” I asked anxiously.

“I’ve been told it may take up to twenty-four hours.”

Fuck. I was stuck in Paris. Though I suppose I could arrange to take a commercial airliner back to Los Angeles. It was just such a long trip—almost twelve hours—and with my fear of flying, it felt more like an eternity. I had no choice. I needed to be back in my office. Infuriated, I whipped out my phone and texted our travel department, asking them to find an immediate flight—a non-stop one. The word “layover” was not in my vocabulary. I impatiently waited for a reply and then realized that it was some ungodly hour in the morning in Los Angeles, and my office was closed. Shit. I was going to have to search for a flight myself. Before I could google Air France, a warm breath curled along the back of my neck.

“Ms. Long.”

That velvety virile voice.

“What?”

“Let me come to the rescue again. I would be honored to have you fly with me on my plane.”

Swiveling my head, I stared at him hard as I mulled over his offer. His sparkling blue eyes never strayed from mine.

He playfully tugged at my braid, knowing the effect that had on me. “The offer expires in thirty seconds. I’m about to board.”

“Fine,” I huffed back at him.

Damn it. I was going to spend the next twelve hours with this pompous asshole on a plane. With no place to escape.

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