Page 92 of Sexy as Sin
“Oh, that’s right. Which part’s yours? Also, I hope this pilot knows what he’s doing. I’m having visions of that crash in the Andes, where the soccer team ate each other to stay alive.”
She was trying to be casual, but itwasa bit freaky. The little jet was dropping straight down into a bowl surrounded by jagged peaks, shining pristine white against the pale blue of a winter sky. Brett took her hand and squeezed it, and as always, it was pure comfort. “Over there.” He pointed. “See those channels between the trees? Those are ski runs. And he knows exactly what he’s doing. I never connected the dots, though. Your parents died in a plane crash. I wish you’d mentioned it.”
“What, we wouldn’t have flown? It’s a slow boat from Oz, mate.”
He smiled. Slow, and so sweet. “Nah. I just would’ve got you drunker.”
She had to laugh, and, yes, he’d made her feel better. The jet was circling now, so low that she could pick out individual trees on the lower slopes, and tiny dots that must be skiers on Brett’s mountain. A flat white area, too, which must be a lake, right? A lake up here would be covered with ice. And snow. Of course it would. Where else would the snow go? Bloody hell, but she felt stupid. Also, she was glad for his hand, but she didn’t need it for the landing. “It’s not the flight,” she said. “I wasn’t there when the plane crashed, which makes it completely different, and I tried not to imagine it. Too scary to think about, probably. It was more that my parents were with me, and then they were gone, and I was alone. I was more scared about people... leaving. That’s been more my thing.”
It made you feel so naked to put it out there. Had she done that to him? It wasn’t much fun.
The wheels touched down, and she kept looking out the window. It was easier. Then he said, “You do realize that’s not going to be me, right? And that you might be the one pulling back to keep it from happening? Can’t be rejected if you reject first.”
She couldn’t answer, just nodded, as the jet rolled to a stop and the engines throttled down.
He waited a minute, then asked, “What is it, then, if it isn’t that?”
“If it isn’t what? Don’t we need to... deplane?”
She looked fully at him, finally. This was cowardly, and she wasn’t cowardly. He hadn’t let go of her hand, which was nice. “It’s a private jet,” he said. “We can take five minutes.” At that moment, in fact, the pilot popped into the back, and Brett held up a hand, said, “Give us five,” and the fella nodded.
It must be odd, having this kind of power. If she said that, though, he’d say, “I’m paying for the time. It’s money, that’s all.” But she knew it wasn’t. He asked again, “What is it? It’s not Azra, it’s not flying, it’s not the mountains, and it can’t be seeing Lily again, since she’s about the least intimidating woman in the world, and possibly the kindest.”
“You sure you weren’t in love with her?” she asked.
His gaze sharpened. “Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “Something Rafe said. About how he wasn’t worried. Since Rafe is never worried, I reckon hewasworried.”
Brett smiled again. “I was attracted, yeah. She’s an attractive woman. I wasn’t... pulled, though. I didn’t push it. Now that I think back, I can see why. It wouldn’t have worked. Not enough pushback.I’d have run her over, if she hadn’t just run away, and I’d have felt like a jerk.”
“You wouldn’t have pushed it like you did with me, you mean? And that’s honesty, mate. Geez. Am I meant to list every fella I’ve had a thing for? Because let me tell you—if that’s the new rule, I’m hating it. You were just supposed to say, ‘No.’”
He laughed. “I’ll make a note. And like I did with you, yeah. There’s attracted, and then there’s something else. Also, I’m being patient, but I’d really like to know what the trouble is. We now know three things it isn’t. It’s not flying, it’s not Azra, and it’s not my nonexistent continuing interest in your cousin’s wife. It presumably isn’t my mom, either, because if my mom scares you, you’re not the woman I think you are. So what is it?”
She was laughing at last. “It’s not actually a mystery. And has anybody pointed out that you’re a single-minded fella?”
“Focus is my gift. What?”
“It’s an email from Amanda, that’s all. She sent the other document at last, the list of bookings and the menus. She didn’t apologize, not quite, but she asked me to come back and help with a meeting for a booking I want to get. A wedding. Nick Dean, the surfer. It’s a big deal,” she added at his blank look. “Aussie celebrity, and I’m betting they’ve sold the photo rights to some women’s mag. That’s why I walked away, because IknewI had to be there to have a hope of getting it, and I wanted it. You can think that’s arrogant,” she added when he didn’t say anything immediately, “but it’s not. It’s the truth. I’m good at young and casual and hip and fun, and translating that into food. I’m brilliant at it, in fact.”
He had a palm up. “I believe you. You were my caterer, remember? I’ve been to a lot of catered events. Yours was very, very good. My favorite was the Popsicles, although the part where you fed me that lemon thing wasn’t bad.”
“Oh.” That took the wind out of her sails. “Well... thanks.”
“You’re welcome. So—I’ve got some more documents to look over and some more expenses to match up, do I? Which is fine, although I’m going to go ahead and say it now. Steve told me last night to go for broke, and I’ve been telling myself that for weeks now. If you want to walk away from the whole thing and start over, that’s on the table.”
“It’s... on the table,” she repeated slowly.
“What? Yeah.” He looked confused. “How else do I say it? In case I haven’t mentioned it, I love you, and I don’t live in Australia.”
She had a hand in her hair, was pulling it back. “Whoa. Mate. I can’t...”
He sighed. “Right. Taking my cards off the table. So. She wants you back for the meeting. She’s almost apologized, and presumably promised not to hide you in the kitchen anymore. When is the meeting?”
“Wednesday. I need to cook a few things for them to taste, though. And it’s Friday now.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely. “You lose a day flying back, and it’ll take more than twenty-four hours to get there. You’ll want to leave Sunday morning.”
