Page 24 of Beautiful Desire

“I’mfinewith flying. Now drop it,” he grits out between his teeth.

What the hell is his problem?

“Okay.” I sit back in my seat and try not to pout at the loss of our contact, taking a sip of my refreshingly cold glass of rosé.

I have a feeling the rest of this flight is going to belong.

CHAPTER8

DOM

As soon asthe wheels touch the tarmac, I’m out of my seat. To say it’s been a long flight is an understatement. I’ve been sitting next to Elle, being tortured with her tantalizing scent filling my nostrils and gentle brushes of our hands and arms, sending shots of electricity through me, leaving me with a hard-on for the majority of the flight. Then I had that clingy flight attendant to deal with. The thought of being back here has set my mind in overdrive with memories from my last time in Italy.

Needing to keep those memories hidden far, far away, I do my best to quickly gather my carry-on bag that holds my laptop, change of clothes, and toiletries and make my way to the front of the jet where Courtney is standing by the exit.

Great. This is the last thing I need. I have to get off this plane. The walls feel like they’re starting to close in on me, and it’s only been five minutes since we landed.

Looking me up and down, she gives me her best “come fuck me” look while adjusting her top, making sure to show off more of her cleavage.

“Enjoy your time in Italy. Call me if you’re in need of some company,” she says in her best sexy tone, slipping a small piece of paper into my hand.

Not bothering to even acknowledge her, I plow right past her and crumple the paper in my hand.

I’m almost running down the stairs into the warm Italian sun when I hear Elle say from behind me, “Jeez, what’s he in such a hurry for?”

I know I’m being rude right now, but I felt like a sitting duck. I needed to get off that plane. Ideally, I’d prefer to be back in Boston. But I can’t miss Fab’s wedding, especially after everything he’s done for me. It’s the only reason I agreed to come in the first place.

Three Rolls Royces are parked, ready and waiting, along with drivers and security standing around all of them. Picking the closest one to me, I climb inside and slam the door shut. It’s been over twenty years since I’ve been back here, and there’s a good reason I stayed away. Coming here is dangerous.

Resting my head on the seat, I close my eyes and try to calm my beating heart and the impending panic attack I feel coming on as I’m transported back.

The sound of blood rushing in my ears.

Erratic breathing.

My body forced to move as adrenaline takes over.

The crunch of asphalt under my feet as they propel me forward.

I need to get out of here. I need to get away.

The closing of the car door startles me as Elle slips into the back seat.

“You okay?” she asks, noticing me flinch.

“I’m fine,” I say a little too forcefully.

“I get it. You have a fear of cars too, huh?” she asks in a mocking tone.

I know she’s trying to lighten the mood, but I’m too worked up to appreciate what she’s doing.

“I don’t have a fear of planesorcars,” I bite back at her.

“Okay. Noted,” she says, turning away from me and looking out the window.

Get it together, man.

I’m not sure if it’s Elle’s presence or her scent, but after a few deep breaths, I’m feeling better, and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking the screen. Nothing.

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