The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad. Marie Ferrarella
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giggled at what she was reading.
Rick couldn’t sleep. Not with the soft scent of honeysuckle tickling his senses, a constant reminder of the woman occupying his companion seat.
At least she finally slept. She’d read for a while, and had a great time of it, too, if the musical sound of her laughter was any indication.
He glanced at the book, wondering again what she found so amusing. Since she appeared dead to the world, he reached for the book and read the front blurb—and then the first page.
An enjoyable hour had passed when he next looked at his watch. Stifling a yawn, he returned the book to where she’d had it stowed.
To stretch his legs he walked to the restroom at the far end of the plane. When he got back, he stood looking down on Savannah.
She sat half-turned toward him, a hand tucked under her cheek, so young, so sweet, so lovely. Cinnamon curls caressed creamy-white skin while dark lashes fanned over her cheeks. She shifted in her sleep and a pretty pink tongue swept over full, bare lips leaving them damp and as inviting as the smudge of chocolate above the corner of her mouth.
Fatigue must be getting to him because he wanted to lick her, first to eat the chocolate beckoning to him and next to taste the plump line of her lips, to sink inside and share the treat with her.
What on earth?
He rubbed his eyes. Pull it together, man.
To escape further temptation he slid into his seat and stared at the boring weave of the blue-and-gray fabric of the seat in front of him.
What had possessed him to bring her on this trip? He’d have been better off with someone from legal, someone fifty and comfortably thick.
Okay, so she’d been a great help prepping for the upcoming meeting, but she was still more optimistic than organized, totally unpredictable and distressingly unafraid of anything. A little healthy trepidation would make her so much easier to control.
She had yet to meet a stranger. The woman made friends wherever she went.
When was the last time a woman had made him laugh? He couldn’t remember. More importantly, when had he become such a staid old man? So he cared about the business, cared about providing for his family. Did that have to mean he gave up on fun, gave up chasing all the enjoyable pursuits life had to offer?
Of course not. He determined to broaden his horizons when he got back. Spend more time with his brothers, read for pleasure and find a new woman friend.
Right. He closed his eyes and hoped by the time he got home—with the international deal sealed—the idea would hold more appeal.
The plane suddenly shook and then dropped, startling Rick out of a light doze. Instinctively, he grabbed the armrest before he even opened his eyes. His fingers closed around flesh and bone rather than hard plastic.
Savannah. Concerned, he glanced her way. She slept on but a slight furrow creased the fine porcelain of her brow. He pulled his hand back, granting her use of the armrest. She immediately became restless and the frown deepened.
He covered her hand again, twining his fingers with hers and she stilled and settled back into slumber.
She was as soft as he’d known she would be. Not that he allowed himself thoughts of her.
Another shake, a lift and then a sharp drop. Someone screamed and Savannah came awake with a start. She blinked at him.
“What happened?” Husky from sleep, her voice stroked along fine nerves, causing the hair on the back of his neck to tingle in aroused awareness.
“Just a little turbulence.”
“So I didn’t dream a scream or that the plane was shaking?”
“Ladies and gentlemen.” A calm voice came over the public-announcement system. “We are experiencing some heavy turbulence and the pilot has turned on the seat-belt light. Please remain buckled in your seats until he turns off the seat-belt light. Thank you.”
Savannah’s trembling fingers tightened on his. “Are we going to be okay?”
“I’ve heard no plane has ever gone down because of turbulence.”
“Really?”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” he said reassuringly.
“Right. Oh, gosh.” They were thrown back in their seats as the aircraft dipped and swayed.
“It shouldn’t last long.” He sought to relieve her distress. “The pilot will try to get either above or below the problem area.”
“That would be good.” Her agitation showed in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “That would be really good.”
She fell silent as the plane continued to rock and roll. And he watched her to make sure she didn’t hyperventilate. White knuckles defined the clasp of their hands, but neither fought to ease the hold one had on the other. He didn’t expect the plane to crash, but he wouldn’t deny he took comfort from the connection.
The flight evened out for about ten minutes, just long enough for everyone to begin to relax, when the shaking began again.
The drastic drop in altitude got to him, but the distressed whimper from the seat next to him was like a fist to the gut. Acting on impulse, he lifted the armrest between them and pulled her into his arms.
She clung to him and, lifting tearful eyes to his, pleaded, “Can’t you make it stop?”
In that moment he’d give anything to fix it, to bring the laughter back to her eyes. He couldn’t stop the turbulence, but perhaps he could take her mind off it.
“You have some chocolate on your face.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Right here.” He lowered his head and licked the corner of her mouth, sweeping the chocolate up with a flick of his tongue.
CHAPTER FIVE
SAVANNAH FELT AS IF the plane had done a loop-the-loop, turning her world upside down. She went still as Rick’s mouth teased her, his tongue swirling over her skin.
Snug in the warm clasp of his arms, her existence narrowed to just the two of them. Strong and solid, he made her feel safe, protected. The scent of him, familiar and all male, surrounded her. And she wanted more of him; she wanted that mobile mouth on hers. But he continued to flick and nibble at the edge of her lips, close but not close enough.
With a low growl of need she turned her head and found his mouth with hers. Yum.
As if he’d been waiting for just that, he opened his mouth over hers and took control of the kiss, plundering her mouth with deft finesse, stealing her ability to think.
Sensation took over. Chocolate, hot and sweet, exploded over her tastebuds. She hummed with approval and met his tongue in a passionate tango of thrust and retreat. He lifted her, half pulling her into his lap, only her seat belt hampering him from completing the action.
Oh, better. Looping her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers through his short, mink-soft hair, holding him to her, drawing his essence in and giving herself back.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot has turned off the seat-belt sign. You are now free to move about the cabin.”
The announcement washed over them like a bucket of cold water. They broke apart, and Savannah buried her face against Rick’s chest.
The world came rushing back—the plane, other passengers, the near-death experience. For a while none of it had mattered; now it all did.
She bit back a groan as her brain reengaged and she realized where she was. In the boss’s arms. This was not good, not good at all. It helped only slightly that Rick’s heartbeat matched the racing pace of her own.
How to extricate herself?