Page 26 of The Plus One Contract

It’s when I shift in my seat to look out the window that I realize we’re already in the clouds.

The turbulence is gone.

The plane is cruising smoothly.

Fourteen

Nathan

Sienna has been in her seat for all of thirty minutes, and once we overcame the turbulence, she was back to normal. If we can call this normal. She’s acting like a kid on Christmas morning who just discovered Santa left her a fully interactive cockpit to play with.

She adjusts the headrest, reclining an inch, then sits up straight again. Testing every button as if she’s convinced she’s about to unlock a VIP feature.

I lean back, watching with mild amusement.

“Okay, but seriously,” she grins, stretching her legs out until her toes graze the seat in front of her, “look at this legroom. I mean, you don’t even have to worry about knee-crunching. This is insane.”

“You act like you’ve never flown before.”

“Oh, I’ve flown plenty.” She sighs happily, sinking deeper into the seat. “But never like this.” She leans forward, scanning the luxury cabin, her loose waves slipping over one shoulder. I get a faint whiff of something floral, something warm.

“This is my first time in first class,” she confesses like it’s some great scandal. Then, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, she adds, “The desk clerk felt sorry for me and upgraded me.”

I glance at her, taking her in properly now, without the dim lighting of a bar between us, without the tangle of limbs and sheets distracting me. She’s all soft curves and sun-kissed skin, with freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and lips still slightly swollen from last night.

She catches me staring. “What?”

I shake my head, adjusting my cuff. “Nothing.”

She narrows her eyes but chooses to drop it. “How often do you fly?”

“Few times a month. More when we’re closing deals.”

She whistles under her breath. “That sounds exhausting.”

“Occupational hazard.”

She hums, considering. “Alright, tell me something. What’s your best and worst flight experience?”

I roll my neck, thinking. “Best? Business-class flight to Dubai. Fully reclining seats, personal mini-bar, actual five-star meal service. The only flight I’ve ever taken where I didn’t mind being in the air for fifteen hours.”

Sienna lets out a dreamy sigh. “Sounds like heaven.”

“It was.”

“And the worst?”

“Flight to Chicago. Mid-air turbulence. The old woman next to me grabbed my thigh and prayed to Jesus for a full twenty minutes.”

Sienna loses it. She throws her head back, full-body laughter shaking her shoulders, drawing a few curious glances from nearby passengers.

The moment she realizes people are looking, she slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Her cheeks flush pink, her laughter still bubbling under the surface.

I don’t think she realizes how distracting she is.

Or how tempting.

She takes a breath, still grinning, as she shifts in her seat. “Alright, what exactly do you do?”

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