Page 33 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Isaac gazes down at me before smirking. If the lust in his eyes is anything to go by, he appreciates the visual of me kneeling in front of him. The yearning to crawl toward him overwhelms me. I’m a strong and independent woman, but the idea of kneeling for a man as powerful and authoritative as Isaac makes my core clench.
“Isabelle.”
The way it rolls off his tongue makes me wonder how it would sound in ecstasy. Would it be as deep as it sounds now or more breathless and ragged?
When he stops in front of me, I raise my eyes to his, admiring his muscular physique on the way. Although he’s no longer smirking, the expression on his face makes my heart race.
He pinches the material covering his thighs before crouching down next to me. Air sucks from my lungs when his deliriously handsome face comes to rest in front of me. “If we were alone, you wouldn’t be moving from that position.”
I throw my dignity out the window by pleading for him to make true on his threat with nothing but my eyes. His eyes dance between mine before he stands and extends his hand, offering to assist me off the ground.
After whining, I accept his gesture. Electricity shoots up my arm when he curls his masculine hand around mine. The rush of dizziness I was experiencing earlier returns full pelt, but it’s not the Xanax causing my light-headed wooziness. It’s the incredibly attractive Mr. Isaac Holt.
“Are you ready?”
Cormack’s eyes dart down to Isaac’s hand clasped around mine. Upon noticing the direction of Cormack’s gaze, Isaac drops my hand quicker than a cake would disappear at a Weight Watcher’s convention. When he gathers my suitcase off the ground and strides into the corridor, I stray my eyes to Harlow, who’s gawking at me with waggling brows.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” I whisper, wanting to ensure Isaac doesn’t overhear my statement.
“You’re welcome.” She curls her arm around my waist to drag me into the corridor.
I squirm in my seat the entire drive to the airport. Not just because Isaac’s intense gaze hasn’t stopped since I sat across from him or the fact I’m petrified of flying, but because I’m terrified of spending the entire long weekend with the man seated across from me. Terrified is a strong word, but the way my body reacts to Isaac and how all rational thinking ceases to exist when he’s in the same room as me is genuinely terrifying.
No one should have that type of control over another, let alone a man I barely know. He doesn’t need to touch me, and my body teeters close to ecstasy. My heart skips a beat every time his eyes assess my body, and just hearing the profound rasp of his voice makes my sex throb.Imagine how much harder the battle will be once he gets close to me?
I take a calming breath before stepping out of the stretch limousine. The instant my feet hit the blacktop and my head rises, my first thought is to run.
My hasty getaway is foiled when I crash into a rock-hard chest. “The plane is that way.” Isaac points behind me.
I swivel my head, gulp, then resume my quick exit. Isaac chuckles at my reaction. Even though it’s a chuckle I’ve only heard escape his mouth a handful of times, it doesn’t warrant enough interest to stop me from fleeing. That plane he’s pointing at isNOTa plane, it’s a sardine can. I barely survive getting on a commercial-size aircraft, so there’s no chance I’ll board a plane that looks like it came from a child’s toy box.
I already have one foot back in the limo when Isaac seizes my wrist, halting my quick exit. Inhaling a lung-filling gulp of air, I raise my fretful eyes to his.
“I can’t get in that plane,” I contest.
My eyes convey to him this isn’t a ploy to gain his attention. I’m seriously terrified.
The longer I gaze into his eyes, the more my irrational panic pacifies. He runs his spare hand down my heated cheek. When his thumb brushes across my parched, gaped lips, a shallow moan escapes my mouth.
When he takes a step backward, I take a step forward, not wanting the intangible string between us to be snapped. He runs his thumb over my hand, gripping his so tightly, my nails dig into his flawless skin, then he takes another step backward. Before I know it, we’re standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the galley of the toy plane.
Isaac stands behind me. He’s so close, his impressive manhood braces my curvy backside.
“Are you coming, Isabelle?” he whispers in my ear, his words laced with a sexual undertone.
I gulp even louder than I did when I saw the plane. Clenching my hands at my side, I climb the stairs into the private jet. My knees knock together with every step I take, but it isn’t from fear—it’s to calm the rampant tingling sensation coursing through my body.
I plop into the first plush white leather two-seater sofa I stumble upon in the galley. Ignoring the elegantly decorated surroundings, I search in vain for my seat belt. My panic surges when my hands come up empty.Oh my God, where’s the belt?
Isaac stoops down in front of me and lurches his hands into the back of the leather chair. My pulse quickens when his hands brush past portions of the bare skin on my thighs. He produces the belt and fastens it around my waist. Flashbacks of him doing the same thing months ago rush into my brain, along with the forbidden scenes of our hot and explicit kiss in his car weeks ago. My cheeks flame as undeniable lust overwhelms me.
Raising my lust-filled eyes, I’m confronted with Isaac’s pussy-clenching gaze. His mouth curves into a sensuous smirk, and he winks before turning his attention to Cormack. They utter something to each other before Isaac takes the seat next to me. I raggedly pant when the plane jerks forward.
“If you need me to carry you into the bedroom, just let me know.”
My eyes snap to Isaac’s. “There’s a bedroom?”
Smiling, he gestures his head to a polished door located at the back of the plane.
