One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Trish Wylie
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pursed her lips at Adam’s reply as she slid off the bench and walked to the sink to toss her untouched coffee away, Jake’s voice calm behind her.
‘I’m going over anyway.’
When he joined her at the sink she looked up at him, mouthing a concerned You okay?
He winked and mouthed back, Fine.
Automatically she took his mug and rinsed it out after she’d done her own, adding a plate and a couple of pieces of cultery that were lying on the side too and not noticing Jake had moved away until she turned—and walked straight into the solid wall of Adam’s chest. One large hand shot up to grasp her elbow as she staggered back, her spine bumping the edge of the counter as she looked down at his hand with wide eyes.
Because it was like being touched by a live wire.
A spark of electricity shot up her arm, under her skin and into her veins where it picked up speed with the rapid beat of her heart. The tingling then radiated outwards, licking over her bare shoulder and down over her chest where her nipples beaded into tight buds against the lace of her bra.
Adam let go so suddenly her gaze shot upwards.
When his eyes narrowed an almost imperceptible amount Roane blinked at him. He’d felt that? What in the name of heaven was that anyway? It couldn’t even be put down to static electricity—not when it was bare skin touching bare skin. Could it? Science had never been her thing, after all.
‘Ro? You coming?’ Jake’s familiar voice sounded from the open doorway.
‘Mmm-hmm, yeah.’ She frowned as she stepped around Adam, absent-mindedly rubbing where he had touched her as if to remove an invisible mark.
Adam took a half step in her direction so that her shoulder brushed his upper arm, the rumble of his voice low and steeped with innuendo.
‘Be seeing you. Little girl.’
She stopped and smiled sugary sweet. ‘How long did you say you were staying?’
‘I didn’t.’
A quick glance at the doorway showed that Jake had already stepped outside. Suddenly Roane felt edgy without him there. Her hesitation didn’t help either, because when she looked up at Adam it was in time to see he’d noticed the same thing.
‘Finally caught him, did you?’
What? She gaped when she realized what he meant, ‘I wasn’t ever—’ She frowned at the sudden need to defend herself. ‘My relationship with Jake is none of your business.’
When she stepped away he reached out and grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand to study it. ‘No ring.’
Roane tugged her arm. ‘Let go.’
He held on. ‘How come?’
Not that she had all that much experience with men, but Roane had never met such a Neanderthal. For goodness’ sake, the man practically grunted a conversation!
She tugged again, harder this time, determined not to pay attention to the low thrumming of awareness in her abdomen. ‘That’s still none of your business.’
Adam repositioned his fingers, his gaze studying her wrist for a moment before he looked sideways at her and a smile began to play with the corners of his mouth. The way the green in his eyes had darkened, the way that half a smile was forming—it threw rational thought clean out of her head. Until she realized what he was smiling about…
He’d just felt her pulse jumping about in her wrist. He knew what he was doing to her disobedient body. More than that—he was pleased about it! The arrogant great—
Adam let go.
So Roane did the mature thing and practically ran from the room. Let him go right ahead and think she was with Jake if he wanted to. It made her reaction to Adam even worse than it already was, but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with it, because surely he wouldn’t make a pass at his brother’s girlfriend?
Cowardly, the voice said inside her head, using Jake as some kind of protective shield. But she ignored it. Caveman had never done it for her before, and it sure as heck wasn’t starting to now.
Even if Adam Bryant looked like the kind of bad news every girl secretly dreamed of finding.
CHAPTER TWO
‘MVY TOWER…MERIDIAN five eight nin-er two November ready to taxi with mike…right turnout southeast bound.’
Only when they were cruising at five and a half thousand feet did Roane truly experience all that she loved best about flying: serenity, control and exhilaration. All around them were blue skies, below them the mirrored aquamarine of the ocean. Things were so calm she could have switched to autopilot. But that would have left time for conversation with her passenger, and it was bad enough he’d got in the cockpit instead of sitting in back where she could have pretended he wasn’t there. So she didn’t.
Unable to resist, she glanced to her side and noticed long fingers tapping restlessly against the taut trouser-clad thigh that was moving to the rhythm of a bouncing heel. An errant smile immediately blossomed in her chest as the realization hit her.
‘Not that good a flier, huh?’
When she bit down on her lower lip to control the smile Adam frowned. ‘I’m good. Thanks.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She nodded, letting his sarcastic ‘thanks’ roll over her head. ‘The tapping foot is a sure sign of relaxation.’
The tapping of his foot abruptly stopped, long fingers curling into a fist. His knuckles were just white enough for Roane to suspect he was forcibly keeping his leg still. It was the first time since she’d met him on the beach that she’d felt she had the upper hand—it was empowering, especially considering every time she laid eyes on him her hormones seemed to go into overdrive. When he’d turned up at the airport she’d surreptitiously rolled her eyes at how good he looked in a dark suit. One glance at him and every part of her that had ever been attracted to intelligence and wit and congeniality went straight to hell. Apparently to be replaced with a cell-deep genetic need to mate with the strongest of the species for the sake of the human race…
But his reaction to being in the air meant her pilot’s conscience insisted she make small talk to help take his mind off it. Sometimes Roane truly wished she had a meaner streak.
‘Clear skies from here to New York; we won’t even hit turbulence. Honest.’
‘Right.’
Roane studied his tense profile, then took a breath and decided to throw caution to the wind and just say what she thought. ‘You’re not much of a talker, are you?’
Adam’s reply was so low she mightn’t have heard it if they weren’t wearing mikes to go with the matching head sets. ‘The secret of being boring is to say everything.’
Roane stared at him in amazement. He couldn’t be serious. ‘And where did we pick up that excuse?’
‘Voltaire.’
Her brows lifted. ‘Quote of the day?’
The vaguest hint of a smile appeared. ‘No.’
Well, that went well. If Roane didn’t know better she’d have said he was enigmatic on purpose. But before she could steer the conversation in a direction where she might glean some insight, Adam exhaled loudly and leaned back into his seat, his chin dropping as he studied the array of dials and readouts.
‘Tell me how it works.’
He wanted a flying lesson? In Roane’s experience it wasn’t how people who were afraid of flying tended to react. Maybe he meant the theory of it? Okay—she could do the basic theory of it.
‘One sec.’ She engaged the autopilot and leaned back, turning and folding her arms across her breasts. ‘It’s