Page 3 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
“Oh, good,” I said dryly. “Just the yacht, then.”
He chuckled as he brought his—bourbon? whiskey?—to his lips. “Last I checked, we’rebothin the first-class lounge, Sienna.”
I shot him a look before directing my gaze elsewhere. “There’s a difference between first-class rich and whatever…thisis,” I said, gesturing toward him.
“You say that like you fit into the first category.” He didn’t miss a beat. Just laid it out there, not like it was an insult, but a fact. I scowled at him. But then he spoke again. “You don’t. That’s clear. But I’d bet good money every man in this room’s wondered what you taste like anyway.”
I nearly choked on my saliva.
A voice crackled over the speakers above, blessedly saving me.Now calling boarding for our First-Class passengers with StrathOne Air for the 7:15 pm flight to Naples, Italy.
I stood faster than I probably should have, gripping the handle of my carry-on in my hand and tugging at the bottom of my dress to make sure it hadn’t caught on anything. Matt rose beside me with far too much easy grace, polished off the last of his drink, and set the glass on the table.
“After you,” he said, motioning toward the exit.
The temptation to flick him on the forehead almost won out.
The walk to the gate was quiet, him trailing behind me without a bag in sight. I could feel his eyes on me as we scanned our passports and boarding passes, could feel himstaringas I walked down the gangway in front of him. I glanced behind me when the feeling faded, catching a quick glimpse of him speaking to one of the attendants in the gangway, but kept moving.
I wasn’t going to be wooed by a random silver-haired mystery man with a voice like silk and hands that could probably make me forget how to say my own name. Especially not one who seemed like he was already convinced hecould.
Except I’d already thought about it. Twice. Fuck, three times now.
“Here you are, Miss James. 1A. Enjoy the flight.”
I had to check with the flight attendant that I was definitely in the right spot before I was even slightly confident this…suite, if I could even call it that, belonged to me. The walls that blocked each one were tall enough to reach my eyes, creating a private space with a lounging chair that looked far more like a La-Z-Boy than an airplane seat and an already-made bed on one side. Ridiculous. Fantastic.
I set my bag down inside just in time to see Matt’s head appear around the corner of the cabin, smiling as he refused help from one of the attendants. I hesitated in the entryway to mine.
He passed the first set of suites.
I glared at him.
He checked his ticket and let out a bark of laughter. “Convenient,” he said, stopping beside the door of the suite one down from mine. 2A.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned. “That’s too close. That’sweird.”
An attendant wordlessly passed him a small suitcase as if that was completely normal, and he rolled it just inside before flashing me a grin. “What are the odds?”
“You did something,” I accused, narrowing my eyes.
“I didn’t,” he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender as he leaned against the exterior wall of his suite. “I booked late. It was the only one available.”
I gave him a long, exhausted look. His smile didn’t fade in the slightest.
Chapter 2
Matt
Istared at the partition between our seats like I had a vendetta against it.
We’d taken off thirty minutes ago, and now we were flying high at 35,000 feet, the seatbelt light off and temptation bristling my neck.
She was sharp, Sienna. Not just the way she looked—though that yellow sundress was now burned into my goddamn brain like abrand—but the way she held her ground. Like she’d been knocked too many times and had decided staying down wasn’t an option.
I liked that.
I wasn’t supposed to particularlylikeanything about this flight. I’d booked last minute on whatever international StrathOne A380 still had a suite seat left this morning, so that I could see firsthand what our newest first-class rollout felt like for regular passengers. It should have been boring. Quiet. Work.
