Page 10 of My Forbidden Boss

Brianna

Irecognized the signs when I saw them. Every muscle in his body was tense, his jaw firmly clenched, his breathing was quick and stilted.

He snatched a newspaper from the holder in front of our seats, just to hastily flip through it and put it back. We sat in business class, and more than once a flight attendant had come by to bring us some overly extravagant items. Hot hand towels, a brioche soaked in butter, cucumber salad, vodka on the rocks.

I swirled the ice in my glass and took another sip. Wesley shot me a disapproving look.

»You shouldn’t drink so much.«

»Why not? First, it’s free; second, the fact that I’m stuck here with you as the only charming conversation partner for five hours is reason enough; and third... did I mention it’s free?«

»Bri,« he hissed suddenly, and I sensed that the situation was more serious than I had assumed. I put my glass on the table in front of me, a small air pocket jolted the plane for a moment, and Wesley dug his fingers deeper into the leather armrests.

»Breathe here.« I put my hand on his stomach. Surprised, he tensed his muscles, which I could feel clearly under his shirt, hard and firm. But this was not the moment to think about his body. »You have a fear of flying,« I realized. We were alone, the other seats were far apart, and no one from our company was here. We didn’t need to maintain the pretense, especially not now, when Wesley was clearly not well.

My hand still rested on his stomach. »Breathe now! Deeply and not so choppy.«

He took a shaky breath. »Why didn’t you tell me before we took off?«

»What? That I have a completely irrational fear of flying? That’s not your problem.«

»If you pass out here because you’re hyperventilating, or worse, vomit all over me, yes. It is. This is my favorite dress and it was damn expensive.«

The hard line of his mouth softened for a moment. »I’ll replace everything if I vomit on your dress.«

He turned his head and finally, we looked into each other’s eyes. Another turbulence occurred and in panic, Wesley placed his hand on mine and closed his lids.

»Breathe,« I whispered, feeling his warm palm pressing me closer to him. »That’s good.«

The plane continued to glide smoothly through the skies, Wesley opened his eyes. »It’s idiotic to be afraid of the statistically safest mode of transport.« It was clearly uncomfortable for him not to be the confident man he usually was in this situation, and to feel helpless and vulnerable, especially in front of me.

»Don’t you have to fly a lot for your job?« I asked.

»I do. And I hate it every time.« He smiled faintly and I returned it. This fear was terrible for him, but it made him human. I was still very aware of where my hand was. Wesley began to stroke the back of my hand with his fingers.

»Good thing you have the best of all distractions by your side now. We’re going to tackle this problem once and for all.«

»How do you plan to do that?« He was definitely amused and that was a clear improvement over his previous mood.

»I learned in an acupuncture course that there are some relaxation points. When you press these, you’ll feel better instantly.«

He raised an eyebrow and his eyes sparkled with mischief. »Are you about to shamelessly exploit this situation?«

»Please, Mr. Crush, I would never touch you shamelessly.« I couldn’t help but smile. »Give me your hand.«

I leaned back a bit and took his left hand. It was large, with long, slender fingers. I pressed on the pressure point between his thumb and index finger. Wesley leaned his head back and focused on his breathing.

»You didn’t go on vacation with your parents much when you were younger,« I observed. Whenever Mom and Dad flew on vacation with Elliot and me, Wesley stayed home. At least, I never really noticed that he went away for the holidays too.

»I flew for the first time when I was twenty. To my first business appointment. And I still can’t get used to it.«

»But you’ve flown somewhere just for fun, right?«

He shook his head, his eyes still closed, and I studied his perfect profile. He had a tiny bump on his nose, which only made him look more interesting. I remembered a rumor that circulated at our high school. Sam Jenkins, the biggest jerk in all of New York, had allegedly spread some story about me. I heard that it wasn’t Elliot who had saved my honor, but Wesley. He’d given Sam a good beating but had gotten a hit on his own nose. I’d seen the bandage he had to wear for several weeks, but I couldn’t imagine that the fight really happened because of me. There had been plenty of reasons to give Sam a hit even without that rumor, because he had deserved it. I resisted the urge to ask Wesley about it and continued to focus on the relaxation points on his hands. »I’ve never been on vacation.«

»Never? Not ever? Hold on a minute, to understand that...« I paused. »You’ve been working for how many years now? And you haven’t even taken a week off?«

»I like my work. Being in the most beautiful hotels in the country is like being on vacation.«

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