The Girl Nobody Wanted. Lynn Harris Raye
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heart as their plane began to taxi toward the runway.
Leo was flying. She hadn’t quite expected that. When he’d said they would take his plane, she’d assumed he had a flight crew. Which he did, but he’d given them the day off to see the sights.
“Don’t you need help?” she’d asked.
“It’s a small plane,” he’d replied. “Certified for one pilot. I left the 737 at home this time.”
“It seems like a lot of trouble to go to for a short trip.”
He smiled at her, and her heart turned over. “Relax, Anna. They wouldn’t let me take off if I wasn’t licensed.”
She had to admit that he’d done a thorough check of the plane before they’d gone anywhere. He’d spent time looking at the instruments, walking around the craft, going over a checklist. Finally, when he’d deemed everything to be okay, he’d communicated with the tower.
And now they were turning onto the runway, the plane braking only momentarily while Leo said something else to the tower. Someone gave him the go-ahead, and then the plane was shooting down the runway. Anna bit her lip to stifle the laughter that wanted to break free at that very moment.
She loved everything about taking off. The charge down the runway, the plane lifting into the air, the ground falling away and her stomach going with it. She loved the way they soared into the sky with the landscape below getting smaller and smaller. She could see the rocky outcrop on which the palace was built, the faded terra-cotta roofs of the city, the glint of sunlight on glass and metal.
She slumped into her seat, a strange sense of relief pouring over her. She was leaving it all behind. She was free, at least for the next few hours, and her heart felt suddenly light.
She turned to look out Leo’s side and caught him glancing at her. Her stomach flipped.
“Happy?” he asked, and she wondered how he knew. She hadn’t given it away. She hadn’t laughed, or smiled, or reacted at all. She knew because she’d practiced it for so many years. It was essential, as a queen, to be tranquil. To hide your feelings behind a mask of cool efficiency. She was good at it.
Usually.
“I don’t, um, feel happy or sad,” she said, stumbling in the middle and hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“Liar,” he shot at her. But he grinned when he said it, and a current of warmth washed over her. “I’ve an idea, sweet Anna.”
She pointedly ignored his use of her name and the epithet he’d attached to it. “What is this idea?”
The hot, intense look he gave her had the power to melt her insides. He looked at her like he owned her, and it made little sparks fly around inside her like a racquetball bouncing off the walls of the court.
“Let’s fly to Sicily. We can spend the day there, eating pasta, viewing the volcano—” one eyebrow arched, his voice dropping an octave before he said the next two words “—making love. We’ll return to Amanti tonight and tour tomorrow.”
Anna felt her face go red even as her heart rate notched up. “Impossible,” she said.
“And why is that? Because you don’t like me? You don’t need to like me, Anna, for what I have in mind.”
She needed a fan turned on her body full blast. “I have no feelings about you at all, Mr. Jackson.”
“Really? I find that difficult to believe.”
“I don’t see why you should.”
“Because I am a Jackson, perhaps?”
She crossed her arms and gazed out the window. Below, the ocean rolled in all directions. “I could hardly hold you responsible for what your sister has done.”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Whatever she has done,” he said softly, “she has not done it alone.”
Anna’s heart burned. “No, you are quite correct. It takes two, as the saying goes.”
“Indeed. Just imagine what the two of us could do together in Sicily.” His voice was seductive, full of promise.
“We’re going to Amanti. Now,” she said firmly.
“Are you sure? I’m quite worth the side trip, I assure you.”
“Good heavens, you are vain,” she said, her heart racing at the thought of doing something so insane, so out of the ordinary. “No. No, no, no.”
But a part of her wanted to say yes. She wanted to be the woman she’d never been allowed to be. She wanted to break free of her suits and her pearls and spend one glorious, hot, naked day with a man. She wanted to know what it felt like to let a man like Leo have his wicked way with her.
No, she told herself quite firmly, she did not.
But why not? Everything she’d prepared for, everything she’d thought her life was going to be, had disappeared in the blink of an eye. She was a virgin who’d never even kissed a man because she’d been saving herself for Alex Santina. Alex, who’d never kissed her properly. He’d brushed his lips across her cheek, once over her mouth, but the contact had been so light and perfunctory that she had no idea what it truly felt like to kiss a man.
And Leo wanted to take her to Sicily and make love to her. She shivered with excitement. It was preposterous, and she wasn’t going to say yes, but the idea was rather thrilling in an illicit way that had her sex tightening in response.
A static voice came over the headset then, and she jumped in surprise at the sudden sound slicing across her thoughts. She couldn’t hear what the voice said, but Leo replied. And then he was pulling on the controls and they were climbing higher and faster.
“What?” she said, her heart thudding for a different reason now. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Some unexpected turbulence. We’re climbing to avoid it.”
“Why did you ask me to go to Sicily? You’ve filed a flight plan. You can’t just change it.”
Leo flashed her another of those smiles that did things to her insides. “We aren’t a commercial aircraft, darling. I can change it if I wish. Haven’t you heard I’m eccentric that way?”
“I’ve heard nothing at all about you,” she said with a sniff. It was only partially true. Last night, when she’d gotten back to her room, she’d done an internet search on Leo Jackson.
“Excellent. So you won’t have made up your mind about me yet.”
“Oh, I’m sure I have.”
“Have you now? And what have you decided?”
Anna studied his profile. Leo Jackson was handsome and wealthy, and reputed to be intense in both his business dealings and personal relationships. He was also a serial womanizer who’d spent the past several years living in the United States, dating Hollywood starlets and supermodels and, on one memorable occasion, a gorgeous actress who was at least twenty years his senior. Of all the women he’d been linked with, that was the only one that had ever seemed to be somewhat serious.
There was no indication about what had ended the relationship, but it was definitely over. The actress had recently married someone else and adopted a baby with him.
“I think you can’t be trusted,” she said softly.
“Ah. What a shame.”
“But you don’t deny it.”
He shook his head. “That depends on how you define trust. Will I seduce you in spite of your denials that you’re attracted to me? Possibly. Will I lie to you and leave you heartbroken? Never. Because I will tell you up front that it’s not wise to have expectations beyond the physical. We can have a good time, but we aren’t getting married.”
Anna