Page 5 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
“No. Charm them into ignoring their better judgment,” she clarified, shooting me a glare as she looked at the little leather-bound cocktail menu.
I chuckled. “Only when they look like they could use it.”
She leaned onto the bar as she hooked one leg over the other, her bare foot nearly colliding with my thigh without a hint of remorse. No shoes, no fucks given — I’d seen heiresses and influencers try to command attention with far more effort and far less effect.
The bartender slid over without a word, looking between us expectantly. Sienna glanced at me before meeting his gaze. “In the first-class lounge, they had these… elderflower and gin things,” she said, setting the menu down like it had personally offended her. “Can you make one of those?”
“Of course,” he smiled, then turned to me, opening his mouth to—what I could only imagine—address me formally. Didn’t need to have theI own the airlineconversation right now if she inevitably asked about thewhy, so I cut him off before he could even speak.
“Lagavulin 88,” I said. “Double. Neat.”
“Of course, Mr.—”
“You’re not what I expected,” I said to her, cutting off the bartender before he could say another word.
She looked at me like I’d grown another head, a little crease forming between her brows. “You said that like it’s a threat.”
I reeled back a little. “Did I?”
She hesitated. “People don’t usually say that like it’s a good thing,” she said. “At least not in my experience.”
A second of quiet fell over us, nothing but the sound of the drinks cart rattling as we hit the smallest bit of turbulence. Then her drink arrived in a highball glass with a sprig of mint on top, and mine appeared beside it, and she lifted hers to her mouth. I opened my mouth to change the topic?—
Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop from the rim of her glass without even thinking, and I felt heat crawl down my spine like a warm, lightly tanned hand. She caught me staring and tilted her head.
“What?”
I blinked. “Nothing,” I said, willing myself to put the lingering image away. “Just thinking you wearvacationwell.”
Her eyes narrowed, amusement twinkling. “That’s the second time you’ve said something weird about vacation-Sienna. First she’s your favorite, now I’mwearing it well.”
“I meant both.”
She rolled her eyes at me, and for a second, all I could picture was the way they’d roll back in her head with her mouth parted?—
“Let me guess,” she said, turning to face me a little bit more, her voice swiping through my thoughts like a knife. But I caught the way her eyes darted to my hands, just quickly, just a glance. “You work too much, don’t date seriously, and use words like‘a distraction’and‘inconvenient’when women ask what we are to you.”
I snorted as I lifted my glass to my lips. “Not bad.”
“I’ve met your type.”
“I doubt that.”
She arched a single brow at me. “Older? Check. Rich? Check. Annoyingly composed? Check. Walks into a room like gravity bends for him, keeps things neat and tight and exactly under control until someone like me steps in and messes everything up? Check and check.”
I let my grin stay as I lowered my glass. “That’s a flattering take on yourself.”
She shrugged. “You haven’t denied any of it.”
“No. I haven’t.”
She leaned in just a little, just afraction, but it was enough to catch the scent of her perfume—light, floral, sweet, with a hint of something sharp underneath. “Why are youreallyflying commercial?” she asked.
I dragged my finger along the rim of my glass. Her eyes flicked to my hand again. “What do you mean?”
“You probably have more money than most people ever dream of having. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not.”
