First Class Sin. Cara Lockwood
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no room for argument as he whisked her bag up to the overhead compartment as if it weighed less than a pillow. I could’ve gotten that, she wanted to tell him. I’m not helpless. She scooted into the window seat and he took his place at the aisle. Blue Sky was like many other airlines, where coach seating was tight. The space was so close, and Juliana realized she’d be taking note of every slight shift from the man next to her. He’d absolutely be a distraction this flight, as she felt his elbow graze hers on the arm rest.
“Uh, so...” Juliana flashed him a smile as she set about fastening her seat belt to give her hands something to do.
“Call me Law. Short for Lawrence.” Law, as in lawless, she thought. His broad shoulders seemed better suited for leather and steel, rather than the domesticated Polo he wore.
“Law. Nice to meet you. I’m Juliana.”
Law took her hand and shook it. She liked the feel of his palm across hers, big, protective, strong. Made for wielding an ax or sword, not a briefcase. “You...have an accent,” she pointed out. “Are you... British?”
“Australian, actually.” He flashed a perfectly white smile. Now she imagined the Viking wrestling crocodiles. Just when she thought he couldn’t get more masculine, he somehow managed it. Then she mentally shook herself. What was wrong with her? “But I’ve lived in the States since I was twelve, so lost most of the accent. But it creeps in now and again. Usually after a drink or two at dinner.”
She loved how he sounded, how dinner almost became dinnah. It was decidedly faint, though, just the hint. “So, how did you manage that magic trick back there? Do airline employees always fall for your charms?” Juliana meant it to sound flirty, but it almost sounded...envious. Juliana wasn’t the type of woman who usually got what she wanted from charm. She usually got what she wanted by working hard and having all the facts at her disposal, by relentlessly pounding away until her opponents gave in. When she was younger, she’d been a nerdy bookworm, for the most part, an all-honors, all-A student. It didn’t help things that she’d been a late bloomer, not actually growing curves until her sophomore year in college. Until then, she’d been rail-thin.
“Well, I’m a frequent flier,” he explained, thick elbow resting dangerously close to hers on their short armrest.
Juliana swiveled, surprised. “So am I, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that level of service.”
“Yes, but I’ve got eleven million miles, give or take.”
Juliana barely prevented her mouth from dropping open. “Eleven million?” She did a rough calculation in her head. “That means if you traveled fifteen years, you’d need 733,333 miles a year.”
His mouth quirked up in an amused smile. She was relieved he didn’t act surprised, or say, Wow, you’re really good with numbers, like some men who seemed genuinely shocked that a woman could do math in her head.
“Yes, give or take that. I’ve been traveling regularly for twenty years, though, so really it’s just about 550,000 miles a year.”
“Still... That’s...mind-boggling.” Juliana struggled to process the staggering reality. “I thought I travel a lot, and I just hit 200,000 miles last year. What do you do? Are you a pilot?”
He chuckled, voice low. “No, but I wanted to be. I have a special kind of color-blindness. I mix up blues and greens, so I can’t fly.” His stark blue eyes never left hers. It was hard to imagine anything being wrong with them. “I wanted to fly fighter jets but couldn’t, back when I was twenty.” He shrugged one fit shoulder. She got a whiff of his cologne. Something subtle but earthy. She liked it. She found herself leaning in a bit more. “So instead of going to the Air Force Academy, I went to Wharton. And...here I am.”
“So what do you do?”
“What do I do for a living or what am I passionate about?”
Juliana considered this. She knew many folks who might not be so focused on their careers as their passion. She understood that. It wasn’t like consulting was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She’d much rather someday run her own company, call her own shots. That was what she’d like to do. Be the boss.
“What are you passionate about?”
“Charity and innovation.” Law’s eyes grew a brighter shade of blue. This really was his passion. She couldn’t help but be surprised. Something about his take-no-prisoners attitude didn’t seem to fit with a nonprofit. “I just started a charity. It helps encourage entrepreneurs from all over the world. I think we need more innovation, and sometimes big companies can hinder competition.”
“So what does the charity do?”
“We give out grants to small business owners, but from all over the world, whether that’s Uganda or New Jersey.”
“That’s great.”
He grinned, a blinding flash of white. She met his amused stare and found herself forgetting everything she wanted to say. Those eyes. So blue. So amazingly clear. Those firm, muscled arms on display through the thin cotton shirt. Juliana mentally shook herself. What was she doing? Drooling all over the passenger in 34H? Seriously? She wasn’t some teenager crushing all over the new boy in class; she was a professional woman with responsibilities. Besides, he was probably married. Her attention wandered to his left hand. No ring. Not that that meant anything. He could still be attached. Probably was. With that strong chin and accent? No doubt.
Law gently nudged her elbow and all thought of the past fled her mind. His arm was warm and solid and strong. She wondered what it would feel like wrapped around her. “What do you do?”
Juliana swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Focus on something other than his lips, Juliana. Geez.
“Business consultant. Mergers and acquisitions.”
“That can’t be easy.” He looked impressed.
“I don’t like easy. There’s no challenge in it.” She grinned as she delivered her signature line, the thing she said to strangers on planes, in hotels and at conferences. With all her travel, she’d become very good at summarizing her life in a few easy-to-digest lines.
Law chuckled a little. Juliana liked making him laugh. She wanted to do it again. But here was the part of the trip, no doubt, where he’d pull out his book or magazine or e-reader. He’d tuck his nose into his distractions and she’d answer her email on her phone and they’d become strangers again.
Juliana waited for it. After all, a man like this wouldn’t talk to her the whole flight. It just didn’t happen.
Her mother always thought she’d meet someone on her travels, a likely prospect for a husband, or heck, even a boyfriend, but it just didn’t happen. Maybe Juliana was too focused on her work, too eager to pull out her laptop and block everything else out. But she also wanted to tell her mother that it was next to impossible to make real connections with people as she crisscrossed the country, spending her time in tin birds and hotels that all looked the same.
“So, what do you like to do for fun?” Law was still looking at her. He made no move to pull out his phone to check his messages one last time, or reach for the onboard magazine. He still seemed interested. Odd.
“Oh, fun is usually work,” she said. “I like to run 5Ks when I can find a spare Saturday but normally, I’m working. Pretty boring life, I guess.”
Here’s the time he grows bored. Looks away. Finds something else to do. Men always get bored with her, especially good-looking men. She waited. But his attention didn’t waver.
“I know what you mean,” he said. “I spend most of my time working, too.”
Juliana’s smart watch dinged. She glanced down and frowned. Garrison again.
When you get back, let’s meet. I want to explain.
She