Page 63 of Final Serenade

My heart drummed wildly in my chest as we drove through the streets. Despite my crazy schedule, the week had dragged on. I even gave myself a pedicure to try to fill the time when my mind wasn’t consumed by work.

I couldn’t wait to see Frank, to hug him, to hear his voice. It was sick how much I missed him. I didn’t know how else to describe this strange feeling that had lodged itself deep in my veins. It waslonging. The worst kind of withdrawal.

Roman was a bit more talkative this time. We exchanged short versions of our life stories. His was obviously more interesting. He’d served in the Navy and traveled the world before his private security gig. I could bet my entire month of rent that his tales were as wild as his current employer’s.

I almost couldn’t believe I was going on a romantic trip with a man who was the talk of the planet this year. Flying to Aspen with my teenage celebrity crush was beyond surreal.

Frank had already boarded when we arrived. Itwasa private charter jet, which didn’t surprise me at all. He probably couldn’t take a breath without some sleazeball snapping a candid photo or some online blog posting a new rumor. A regular flight would be a bad idea. People like Frankie Blade didn’t blend in well, even in business class.

There was a small crew to cater to all our needs. Apart from Roman, who had a separate cabin, Frank and I were the only two passengers. Leather couches, a huge plasma TV, and a bar greeted me as I entered the plane. The interior colors were predominantly walnut and soft caramel.

“This is a lot of stuff for two days.” Frank laughed at the size of my bag as Roman escorted me in.

“Isn’t Aspen cold? Unless you’re taking me to Kenya?” That earned me another chuckle.

I wanted to jump the man the second I saw him, but my common sense talked me out of it. He was dressed casually. Jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers, and his hair a bit of a mess. He looked like any other guy you’d see on the streets of Encino or Studio City. Except he was Frankie Blade. He was worth seventy million dollars and according to recent polls, he’d made it on the list of one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.And he belonged to only me for the next two days.

“Thank you.” Frank gave his bodyguard a slight chin jerk, which I figured was a polite version of “get lost,” because Roman was quick to retreat.

We were alone at last and I needed a moment to drink him in, but most of all, I needed a moment to catch my breath.

Frank wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. His mouth neared my ear. “You won’t need any of your clothes there, Cassy.”

“No?” I pressed my palms to his chest and my eyes met his.

“We’re not going to Aspen to ski.”

“Really? So the extra pair of socks I packed won’t be necessary?”

“None of these will be necessary as soon as we’re in the air, doll.” His hands slid to my ass and slapped it playfully, then gave my denim a light tug.

I was immediately turned on.

“Your mile-high club membership package comes with unlimited champagne and your own personal rock star.” He gave me a smirk. “Unlimited usage as well.”

The anticipation was driving me nuts. I was a happy woman. My stomach coiled and my panties were soaking wet.

He said it then. The same words that were on the tip of my tongue. “I missed you.” His fingers sifted through my hair and he cupped the back of my head. His touch was serene. Despite the storm surrounding him, he was calmness in its purest form. “Did you miss me?”

A knot tied my stomach. I nodded.

“Good.” He drew a ragged breath through his teeth, chest rising beneath my palms. The thump-thump of his heart was strong and loud.

Someone knocked. A stewardess came in to let us know the plane was about to take off. We moved to our seats. Frank held my hand until we finally reached flight altitude.

I’d told Levi I was going away for the weekend to see Mom’s family in Oregon and instructed Ashton to tell the same story to anyone who inquired about my whereabouts.

Once we were on our way, Frank poured himself some water and me some champagne. Legs tangled, we sat on the couch and exchanged our weekly recaps. I told him about Levi’s documentary idea and expressed my concern about Ashton accidentally burning my apartment down.

“You don’t give your brother enough credit.” Frank shook his head.

“He’s seventeen. He’s never house-sat before. What if he throws a party and I return to a pile of ashes and a lawsuit?”

“We’ll get you another apartment, doll.”

The “we” factor startled me. I didn’t know if he meant he and the people who worked for him or he and I as a whole.

“I like my apartment.”

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