Page 8 of A Mutually Beneficial Proposal

The woman next to me snorts. The sound is adorable and endearing. I look over, and her hand is covering her mouth while her delectable body shakes.

“You know, if you’re going to be such a distraction, you should share what’s funny,” I say with a wink.

Her head slowly tilts up, and her eyes meet mine. The fire is back in them, but she isn’t as wound up as she was earlier. “I don’t think you can handle what’s in here.” She waves the kindle.

I raise a brow and cock my head a little. “Are you sure about that?”

She drags her gaze from my eyes, over my wide shoulders, down my wrinkle-free custom suit and to my shiny dress shoes, then back up. The action takes maybe five seconds, but it is hot as fuck.

“Absolutely.”

Her one-word answer makes me want to challenge her more, but I give up on that tactic.

I turn toward her in my seat. “I’m Owen Porter. If you share your name, I promise not to give you any other reasons to plot my murder for the rest of the flight.”

Her tongue makes a clicking noise when she thinks before answering. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

I chuckle and relax back into my seat. “You know, I normally get a date or two before I hear that line.”

She laughs and the sound is like soft bells to my ears. “Seriously. It’s definitely me, but if you must know, my name is Ella Danes. Enjoy the rest of your flight, Owen.”

Ella takes a sip of her cherry-red mixed drink before going back to her book.

My interest only piques after our brief interaction. What could possibly be wrong with her? She seemed very sure of her words, and I have little doubt they’re true.

Though, I keep good on my promise and give my attention to the work on my laptop while trying and failing to ignore the sexy noises she makes while she reads next to me.

* * *

Ella is sleepingwhen the plane lands. Not even the rough landing jolts her. I’m afraid if I touch her that she’ll punch me, but I think she’d be more embarrassed to be sleeping there while everyone gets off the plane before her.

I take the chance and run my fingers over her forearm. Goosebumps rise on her sun-tanned skin, so I do it again. “Ella,” I whisper, trying not to startle her.

“Hmm,” she mumbles.

“It’s time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

She leans toward me, and I freeze when her cheek rests against my shoulder.

After our earlier interaction, my instincts say she wouldn’t be pleased about being so close to me. I unbuckle and turn to help position her against the window.

Her eyes don’t even flutter from my movements, and I’m amazed by how deeply she’s sleeping.

This time, I’m a little louder and firmer with my actions. “Ella, the plane landed.”

My fingers wrap around her bicep, and I give her a solid shake.

Her left hand comes up, and I move my arm to block her. I don’t know how I knew she was going to swing, but the fire inside her eyes earlier told me to tread with caution. Maybe I should thank my sister for all those hard-earned lessons during my childhood.

Ella’s fist connects with my forearm, but the motion lacks conviction. Her eyes open and then widen. She covers her pink lips and mutters something I can’t decipher.

I release her and grin. “What’s that?”

Her fingers spread just millimeters apart. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you weren’t dead. Do you think you can make it off the plane on your own?” She nods. “Good. Welcome to Saint Lucia, Ella.”

With those parting words, I grab my laptop bag and step into the aisle without giving her another glance. There’s no need to get a final look when I’m hopeful I’ll see her again. Preferably sooner rather than later.

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