Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (21 page)

Jack pulls his passport from his jacket pocket and I rummage in my handbag and hand mine over. We board.

“Would you allow me, Miss Caid?” A second, female flight attendant, waiting at the top of the stairs, offers to take my violin case.

Jack queries me with a look but I hand it over. “Take very special care of it,” he instructs her. “It’s valuable.”

“I’ll secure it well, don’t worry, sir.”

She falls all over herself to be charming to Jack but I can hardly blame her with his Arctic blue eyes, handsome face and raw male sexiness confounding her senses. It even makes me a tad more kindly disposed to Amanda. But only for a second. She’s one shrewd schemer whom I mustn’t underestimate.

The inside of the cabin stops me dead and Jack leans over my shoulder. “She’s something, huh?”

Pure luxury, more like. Deep cream carpets run the length of the interior with pale cream leather armchairs and walnut side tables fixed to either side of the cabin. Double and single seating options are scattered with cashmere blankets and one large sofa rests along a side wall. Fresh floral arrangements make the entire spacious interior smell divine.

“Now I wonder if there’s a spare seat for you anywhere,” he jokes. The whole cabin is completely unoccupied and could seat a dozen easily. “Where do you want to sit?”

“This is a bit extravagant,” I tell him, settling into my chosen double seat eagerly and practically purring with the comfort of it all. He’s amused by my easy pleasure as he sits down beside me and leans across to buckle me up. It recalls a quick flash-back of my drunken exploits and Jack ensuring my safety home from the nightclub. I blush as he regards me speculatively.

“Don’t you think I’m worth it?” His stare grows intense and serious.

“I do.”

“I think you’re pretty special too.” Our eyes remain locked before he breaks the curious moment. “Touchdown London City Airport eight thirty-five.”

I do the simple calculation. “That fast?” I’m impressed. I imagine being able to commute from Lassec every morning. Such indulgence. Such expense.

“Rolls Royce engines. This baby can do Mach zero point nine two five.”

Jack, of course would know this. He leaves nothing to chance. “That’s –”

“– Nearly the speed of sound.” He completes my sentence. When did he start doing that? “It has a top speed of over seven hundred miles an hour.”

I give a fake yawn and he laughs. “And it has pretty flowers inside.” He teases my disinterest in aero-technology so I swat him playfully as we both laugh.

“And a hot pilot,” I whisper in his ear just as the man himself emerges from the flight deck.

Jack glares as the man approaches. He clamps a heavy proprietary hand on my thigh and makes sure I know it’s there by squeezing when I squirm trying to escape the embarrassment.

The good looking male pilot is followed by his co-pilot; a rather pretty blonde woman who looks too good in her tightly fitted uniform.

“Okay, I see what you mean,” Jack says. He waggles his eyebrows lasciviously and grins at me in mock triumph. Especially when I claim ownership equally firmly over his thigh and squeeze right back.

“Good morning, Mr Keogh, Miss Caid.” The chief pilot addresses us. Jack stands and shakes hands with both of them. “We have near perfect conditions this morning and should make excellent time.”

“Can we take the scenic route?” I joke.

The pilots look perplexed for a moment but Jack laughs. He understands me perfectly. “Maybe next time, kitten. London’s calling us home.”

We’re served warm croissants and great coffee as we fly.

Halfway into the flight Jack leans in, lowering his voice. “Why did you do that yesterday evening?” I know immediately he’s talking about me coming into the study, kissing him then slapping him. I get the feeling he’s been musing on the mystery ever since.

“So you’ll remember I have feelings too.” My quick reply surprises me as much as it does him.

There’s a moment of silence as he ponders my response. “I’ll remember.”

The flight attendants clear up, check we’re fine and strap themselves in somewhere distant ready for the approach to London City.

Jack turns to me as soon as we’re alone. “These feelings that you have…”

I see the
Boss
most clearly in his eyes before his mouth descends over mine. At first he’s gentle and taking me at leisure. Soft, yet firm as he slants over me touching, tasting, exploring. He moves my bottom lip between his, moulding it to his own unhurried desire. His tongue moistens as he licks over my engorged flesh multiplying each sensation until they course, abandoned, through my entire being.

He grows infinitely more assertive. Wilder. His teeth nip and scrape and I tense in anticipation of pain yet experience only warm desire blooming.

“Open up to me,” he demands against my lips.

Is he talking about my lips? It’s beyond me to refuse him. My reason scatters and I obey. No hand touches my body even if I desire it. I burn for him, shifting in my seat as he settles his mouth more firmly against mine.

The kiss insists as he presses, invades, his tongue sweeping the length of the upper arch of my lip then entering. He detains my tongue; licks beneath it and above, forcing it whichever direction he wants it to go. Tasting and consuming, he grows ever more compelling, disturbing. My hands reach out for him as every breath he takes steals mine.

I can’t think. My hands slide through his hair as I try to hold on to something but everything slips between my fingers. I can’t stop him; can’t stop myself. He controls everything I feel and do.

I understand he wants my wanton desire on display before him as he takes and shapes it like he takes and shapes my mouth beneath his own. I have no strength to resist in this molten state. I moan.

Last night I hit him. Today he hits me back with the power of this kiss.

He stops, resting his forehead against mine. Drawing back he looks deeply into my eyes. Whatever he sees there tugs the grim intense slash of his mouth into a curve of triumph. He’ll always get the better of me when he has the ultimate weapon at his disposal.

“Are those anything like the feelings you have?” he whispers.

I’m confused about what is happening to me. “They’re the ones.”

He likes my answer.

I feel the slight bump as the aeroplane’s wheels touch down and we taxi to a halt. It’s nothing to the collision of Jack’s lips against mine. Nothing to the impact of his will over me. My mind is all over the place by the time I stand and quietly follow Jack off the plane.

Blackstock is waiting for us beside the Bentley as we emerge from the jet. He’s already supervising the off-loading of our luggage by an airport handler. He turns and smiles.

“Welcome back Mr Keogh. Miss Caid. Did you enjoy the flight, sir?”

“Exceptional, Blackstock. Rather stimulating actually.”

I’m speechless at Jack’s innuendo. He leers at me and laughs silently. He looks very pleased with himself as well he might. He’s not a CEO for nothing. He knows exactly when to make a move. I think I may just have been taught another lesson. The
Boss
is back in charge and he’ll control me as he sees fit.

“May I offer my congratulations, Miss Caid.”

I stare awkwardly until Jack puts his arm around my shoulders. “You may, Blackstock.”

“Er, yes. Thank you, Mr Blackstock.” I hate lying to him like this and don’t know where to look but I suppose I’d better get used to it. I’m preoccupied that I might look the way I feel. Ravaged. Am I that obvious? My skin flushes, I’m certain.

“I’d like you to take personal charge of Miss Caid’s violin. It’s in safe-storage on board.”

“Certainly, sir.” Blackstock soars up the steps and I get into the back of the car, relieved, to wait.

“I’m just going to retrieve our passports and thank the pilots,” Jack tells me. “Especially the hot one.” He winks and departs.

I have to laugh at his brazenness but I suppose I started it. It seems I start a lot of things that Jack finishes. I might do well to remember that.

Blackstock returns carrying the violin case draped over his arms like a corpse and I’m reminded of the first time I met him, delivering the blue dress Jack sent for our first dinner together.

I lean through the open door. “Thank you for taking good care of it, Mr Blackstock. The case is quite sturdy though.”

“Would you like it in back with you, Miss?”

“Yes, please.”

He hands it over and I bang it accidently against the door. I shrug. “See? Still in one piece.”

Blackstock frowns looking over the vehicle’s paintwork swiftly and I realise he’s more worried about Jack’s Bentley than any violin case of mine.

“Sorry. I’ll take the blame for any damage.” It’s something I’m getting quite used to doing around Jack lately. I offer an apologetic smile.

“No harm done, Miss.” He goes round the other side to open the door for Jack as he approaches.

“Straight to Belvedere, Blackstock. Later I’ll need you to drive me to Zee-Com. Miss Caid may wish to go to work too.” He looks at me, brows raised, for confirmation. I cannot avoid Brent Tapper any longer so I nod.

“Very good, sir.” He starts the engine and we pull away.

Blackstock drives assertively in the busy morning traffic, seeming to know the short-cuts and back doubles. I count off bridges as we pass along the Thames.

He crosses over Tower Bridge to avoid the congested financial heart of the City of London but turns back over Lambeth Bridge. I recognise Chelsea, Albert and Battersea Bridges as we pass along the embankment. Soon we’re driving along Cheyne Walk and heading down towards Chelsea Harbour and Belvedere.

“Nine fifteen, sir,” Blackstock announces. There’s a touch of pride in his voice and manner.

“Nice one, Blackstock.” Jack looks impressed. “Thirty minutes in rush-hour traffic.”

It feels like some sort of competition or challenge to see how fast they can make the distance and I comprehend the airport run is a familiar one. I wonder how many other women Jack has impressed with his chartered executive talents. Perhaps Amanda too. I have no right to be jealous but I am. I cannot help but see Jack as mine.

Blackstock opens the door for me to get out as Jack emerges on the other side carrying my violin. He turns round, half way to the lift, to find me at the back of the car.

“What are you waiting for? Your violin’s here.”

“My luggage.”

Jack smiles benignly. “Blackstock will take care of it.” He holds his free hand towards mine inviting me to come to him.

I look at Blackstock who nods. I’m not used to personal staff. It strikes me I’d better not start getting used to it either. Jack and I travel up in the lift together. The last time we did this feels as if it was a lifetime ago. I glance up at Jack who is looking down at me, perhaps having similar thoughts to my own.

Lenuta waits for us too except she has a look of concern on her face when she looks at mine.

“Are you okay?” she asks me sincerely, stopping to glare at Jack. I glance hesitantly from one to the other as he rolls his eyes at her.

“She’s fine.”

Lenuta ignores him which is pretty brave of her I think. It isn’t easy to ignore Jack Keogh. She takes my arm. “Come, I make coffee. We talk.”

“If she has any more coffee this morning she’ll burst, Lenuta. Let her settle back in.” Jack seizes my other arm to prevent me being propelled away. He doesn’t seem to want Lenuta talking to me alone, that’s for sure.

They wage a silent battle of wills over me which I find quite amusing. Clearly Lenuta blames Jack for running me off. I knew I liked the woman. It feels good to have an ally in enemy territory.

Lenuta looks at me, raising her eyebrows for confirmation and I nod. She scowls at Jack one more time and stomps off to the kitchen. Perhaps he didn’t come to Lassec to find me after all. Perhaps he came to escape the wrath of the fiery Lenuta. I grin.

“Something amusing?” He sounds highly irritated.

“Nothing,” I lie deadpan. I’m clearly not anywhere near as brave as Lenuta. I take the violin from him and turn towards the bedrooms before I dare smile again. “I’ll settle in then, shall I?”

I pause for a moment looking over to where I spent my last night here – in Jack’s bedroom. I turn to the spare room. I presume all my clothes are still there and head off.

“Is that the choice you’re making then?”

I freeze on the threshold. What does he mean by that? I turn to stare at him. Is he going to scowl at everyone now he’s back home?

“Don’t you want me to stay in the spare room?” I sound as hesitant as I feel.

“Please yourself. Just remember we’re supposed to be engaged.” His voice oozes criticism and he turns and stalks off towards the kitchen and poor Lenuta.

I’m being reminded of the need to keep up appearances. I know better than most how the paparazzi lurk where you least expect them. That’s what created this whole mess in the first place. That with Amanda’s interference. I place my violin, handbag and jacket on the spare bed, use the en-suite to wash my hands. When I return to the bedroom, Jack enters and closes the door. I didn’t expect it so soon.