Now that the green tinge to her face had faded, revealing flawless cream, Sebastian couldn’t deny it any longer. Mystery woman was a knockout.
Her brown hair was cut in one of those styles that stopped just below her jaw to flow gently around her oval face. Her height—she couldn’t have been five feet tall in hooker heels—and the light, natural look of her makeup gave her the appearance of a pixie who’d wandered out of the woods. The most adorable, cherubic lips he’d ever seen called to him in a way he hadn’t thought possible anymore, and that lone dimple was beyond adorable. Still, it was those eyes, glass-green and shining with some sparkle he couldn’t put his finger on, that made him lean even closer.
Feisty and smokin’. It was a damn shame he was on the clock. She might have been just the distraction he needed.
He grinned. “I’m Sebastian.”
“Sebastian? Seriously?” Something in her tone or maybe the way she scrunched her forehead made her question feel insulting.
“Yeah, seriously.” He tapped the embroidered nametag stitched to his navy blue uniform. “Why? What’s wrong with my name?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. You just don’t look like a Sebastian to me.” Her gaze narrowed, then did a slow circuit over his body that heated his blood. “It sounds stuffy,” she finally said with a dainty shrug. “You don’t look like the stuffy type.”
“There’s nothing stuffy about me, babe. But you can call me Happy if you want. Most people do.” He gave her the practiced, lazy grin that had charmed the panties off countless women.
She burst out laughing, a tiny snort escaping that only made her giggle harder. He should have been offended, but she had a sexy little laugh. Hell, even that snort was cute.
Obviously he really needed to get laid.
A few of the other passengers glanced over at all the noise. She didn’t notice anyone but him.
Hell. Yeah.
“Sorry, but I’m not calling you Happy.” She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. The fake leather seat squeaked as she shifted to face him.
She smelled good enough to eat, one of those perfumes with the faint foody scent that makes a guy think of kinky sex. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to decide what it was. Chocolate covered strawberries?
“What on earth did you do to deserve that kind of torture?” she asked.
What were they talking about? Right, his nickname. “They think they’re funny. Apparently I never smile.”
“You’re smiling now.” Her eyes caressed every feature of his face, lingering on his mouth.
Funny he hadn’t noticed, but she was right. His smile broadened.
The spark in her eyes exploded and she laughed again. “Wait. Wasn’t Sebastian the name of that grouchy crab in The Little Mermaid?” His eyes narrowed. She laughed harder. “Maybe it does fit you.”
“Ouch,” he said, scooting closer still. God, she was a gutsy little thing. “Now that you’ve laughed at my name, I think it’s only fair for you to tell me yours.”
“Clara. I’m—” She stopped, a movement over his shoulder catching her attention.
“Hey, Happy,” a sweet Southern voice drawled from the aisle. “Can I get you anything, sugar?” The din of passengers he’d basically forgotten since sitting down filled the plane. But this voice, feminine and decidedly sensual, refused to fade into the perpetual whirr of engines.
He turned to find a slender blonde wearing the standard issue flight attendant getup: white button-up, dark blue sweater vest, and a gleaming gold badge that read “Sheri.”
“Nah, I’m good.” He winked at her.
“Well, you just let me know if you change your mind.” Sheri brushed the V of her blouse with two fingers, remaining a second too long before twirling on her heel to stroll back to the galley.
“Oooookay,” the melodic voice to his right began. “I’m not normally a nosey person, but when exactly did you sleep with her?”
Sebastian yanked his attention back to Clara. “What?”
“Oh, please,” she said with an eye roll that fluttered her thick lashes. “If she had it her way you two would be locked in the bathroom right now. A woman doesn’t look at a man like that unless she’s seen him naked. And liked it.” She raised one thin brow and waited for an answer.
Blood crept along his neck to color his face. Shit. He probably hadn’t blushed since high school. “Tell you what.” He returned her eyebrow quirk. “I’ll answer your question, if you answer mine.”
She mulled that over for a moment.