Page 70 of Square Deal

“You’re awfully quiet,” he observed, looking down at my face.

“I’m out of my element,” I admitted. It was the truth. Every other interaction had been on my turf. The Taylor Creek Inn. My house. Hell, our quickie in Maddie’s wine cellar had been my idea. Walking straight into Isaac’s territory felt like crossing enemy lines. I was bracing for fire from all directions.

Isaac let out a low chuckle, scraping his thumbnail across his lower lip as he shook his head and grinned. “What would make you feel in your element?”

I looked up, meeting his ocean blue eyes. They were crinkled in the corners with amusement. “Yelling at you. Fighting with you. Calling each other names.”

“We haven’t done that in a while,” he mused.

I tucked my hair behind my ears. “And maybe we haven’t hated each other in a while.”

Isaac stared at my lips. “Does that make you nervous?”

Thud.There it was again. That pang inside, warning me to run away before I could get hurt.

Because he would hurt me. If I let him in—if I let myself get attached like I always did—he would wreck me. Deal or no deal, Isaac held all the cards.

“A little,” I said quietly.

The plane leveled out as we reached cruising altitude and the pilot flipped off the seatbelt sign.

His voice lowered into a near-sinister rumble. “What would make you less nervous?”

I swallowed. “The status quo.”

“Hating each other, you mean.”

I nodded.

Without a word, Isaac stood up and removed his navy suit jacket. He draped it across the slim couch before turning and rolling up one crisp white dress shirt sleeve and then the other. The matching blue vest was a stark contrast to his white button up and charcoal necktie.

Holy hell, the man could wear a vest.

“Stand up,” he snapped as he finished cuffing his shirt sleeves just above his elbows.

I fumbled with the seatbelt for a moment before I finally got the darn thing unclasped. Isaac made no move to help. He simply waited for me to obey.

“Raise your skirt.”

Back the hell up. “Excuse me?”

He twisted that stupid fuckboy ring on his finger. “Raise your skirt, Hannah.”

“We’re in anairplane,” I hissed as if it wasn’t obvious. I looked around frantically, praying that the flight attendant wasn’t within earshot.

Isaac took one confident step toward me. “I’m aware. But this ismyaircraft, and my staff knows better than to bother me unless I request their presence.”

It was the first time I’d heard him sound like the billionaire he was.

He wasn’t just my best friend’s husband’s best friend. He wasn’t just the jackass best man at a wedding I planned.

He was powerful. Intimidating.

He was Isaac Lawson.

With shaking fingers, I reached down and held the hem of myskirt, inching it upwards. I stopped with my skirt just below my ass, revealing the top of my thigh-high stockings.

“All the way,” he said, pointing his fingers at my skirt.

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