He gives me a suggestive look. “So are you going to invite me up?”
I smirk. “Don’t push your luck. I don’t even like you yet.”
“But you will,” his voice is confident. I climb out of the car, already regretting not inviting him up, but I just want to hold a little back, at least for now. “Tony will let you know the travel details,” he says, starting the engine. “I will see you.”
With that, he’s gone, the car engine purring softly as he drives away, leaving me wondering what on earth I’ve gotten myself into.
“I HAVE no idea what I’m doing,” I tell Laurie over the phone the next day. She’s working late, I, on the other hand, am packing for my trip. After exchanging notes from our meeting and discussing a little more about the article, Tony Gillies informed me that I would be leaving for San Francisco with Landon in the evening.
“Don’t overthink it,” Laurie replies. “Personally, I think it’s exciting. You’ll have your affair and get to write your article at the same time.”
“Affair,” I grimace. “That’s such an old fashioned word.”
“Just like ‘lover.’” I hear her snicker. “You’re going to San Francisco with your lover,” she says in her best Downton Abbey accent.
“All my dreams are coming true,” I say sarcastically.
“Don’t be so negative. You know you’re creaming your panties at the thought of being with him for a whole week.” She ignores my protest. “Just make sure you pack some good lingerie and condoms. You don’t want to be caught unprepared.”
I look at the box on my bed. It arrived at the same time I got home from the office. It contains a blouse, very like the one Landon destroyed yesterday, only with a label that makes it much more expensive than my regular wardrobe, as well as two sets of matching lingerie to replace the panties he ripped. “Laurie,” I say patiently, “It’s still first and foremost, a work trip.”
“Yeah, tell yourself that.” Laurie scoffs, “Just like it was a work thing when you ended up having sex in his office.”
“Jeez, Laurie! I knew I should never have told you about that.”
“Like you could keep it to yourself.” I can almost hear the smirk in her voice.
Later, in the luxurious interior of the car Landon’s office sends for me, my mind goes to the items of lingerie in my suitcase and I blush in the darkness. Luckily, aside from the driver, the same guy who took me home after my night at the Insomnia Lounge, and who hasn’t said anything after introducing himself as Joe, I’m alone in the car.
At the airport, Joe drives straight to the hangar where a uniformed steward retrieves my suitcase from the trunk and leads me to a sleek aircraft waiting on the runway. Following the steward, I climb into the plane. A blond stewardess with a bouncy ponytail welcomes me with a smile and points me in the direction of the main cabin.
I step inside, and pause at the entrance. It is grand, no argument about that. The décor is muted, yet luxurious and comfortable, with leather seats and low tables. On one of the seats, a leather sofa with space for two, Landon is sitting with one ankle placed jauntily on the knee of his other leg while he flicks a finger across the screen of a tablet. His striped shirt is open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the light dusting of golden hairs on his arms.
I swallow, once again unable to process how good looking he is. I haven’t
seen or spoken to him since he left me outside my apartment yesterday, but just looking at him, my body stirs with lust. I want this man, again and again, and I’m suddenly aware that a week will not be enough.
Just as if he can hear my thoughts, he looks up at me and smiles.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I reply, stepping into the cabin.
“Come sit.” He pats the seat beside him. “We should be leaving in a few minutes, so buckle up.”
I do as he says. Moments later, the stewardess comes to warn us to prepare for takeoff, then disappears as quietly as she appeared. The plane starts to move, the engines whirling softly. The takeoff is smooth and in almost no time we’re cruising.
Landon sits back on his chair and closes his eyes. I noticed that he looked a little tired before, and I wonder if he has fallen asleep. His hair is tousled, and his perfect face oddly relaxed, making me want to reach out and stroke it. The thought is so ridiculous, I look away and chuckle silently.
“What’s funny?”
His voice startles me. I turn back to him. Unlike a few seconds ago, he looks awake and alert.
“Nothing.”
He gives me a skeptical look, then reaches for his tablet again. His movements are strong and graceful, and I wonder if it’s possible to be around him without finding reasons to lust after him anytime he moves or says something.
“I thought Tony would be here,” I mention, wondering where his efficient assistant is as I retrieve my MacBook from my bag. I know that the photographers, a husband and wife team with a photography firm called Litte and Parker have been in San Francisco documenting the stages of the refurbishment for weeks.