Paris (Entangle Me Book 4) Page 8
“I have never rejected you.”
“What about in Bangkok? Why did you stay with me that night, why did you take me out to dinner and then act like you didn’t want me?”
He shakes his head, looking at me with slight torment. “I wanted to kiss you so badly that night, I wanted to hold you all night, stay in bed with you all night. But…I never knew if you felt the same way.”
Oh. Maybe I really didn’t give enough signals.
“That was—”
He puts a finger to my lips, the sensation overwhelming. “Look we’re both adults here. I like you, and I know you like me. Let’s see where this goes, I think we can have a lot of fun together.”
“So now you want to mix business and pleasure? I thought that wasn’t your thing,” I tease.
He runs his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “I’ll make an exception for you. And as your boss, there will be dire consequences if you don’t obey my command.”
I nod my head in amused agreement. “Yes, sir. So how do you want to—?”
“Let’s keep it between us for now okay?”
I avoid the urge to frown at the way he said it, so rushed and hasty.
“We do work together and the fact that you are Hansley’s sister, I don’t want to make things awkward.”
Is he embarrassed to be with me? Is he embarrassed to ask my brother for permission? Does he even want a relationship? So many questions I want to ask, but now is not the right time.
Instead I let him take my hands into his. Those perfect hands, that fit mine just so.
“Tristan?”
Our foreheads touch. “Yeah?”
“Will you please kiss me? I’m dying up here, in case you couldn’t tell where we are.”
And then we’re laughing at each other.
And then he pulls me even closer into his arms, and we kiss, at first quickly—to make up for all the time we’ve lost. For all the stupid misunderstandings that kept us apart.
And then we kiss slowly, because we have all the time in the world. Because we realize how good this is, how we never realized that something like this could exist between us.
His lips are soft, oozing of the most velvety chocolate, and I stumble into the most beautiful free fall.
I could kiss him again.
And again and again and again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I feel on top of the world, well I was pretty damn close two hours ago. Tristan and I are finally together! I’m dating my boss, who also happens to my brother’s best friend. But none of those labels mean anything to me because he’s just Tristan. Someone I absolutely adore, and really care about. I don’t want to jinx anything, because I really hope this works out with him. I don’t even think I was ever this crazy about Adam…yeah I really don’t think I was even close. And to think it’s with someone I’ve known almost half my life, it’s completely baffling.
After Victoria got taken away, Gabe, Tristan and I came straight back to the hotel. The whole drama of everything that happened put us off going out tonight. But that doesn’t mean Tristan and I didn’t want to spend some time alone, so I invited him back to my hotel room. We’ve been just lying in bed for the last hour, kissing, laughing, talking.
I’ve changed into my cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt, and Tristan is back in his usual attire of flannel shirt and jeans. Running his fingers over my bare legs, Tristan kisses my neck and I moan at how good it all feels, just the two of us in this plush queen bed amidst these luxurious silk sheets. How is it possible that everywhere he touches me, heat forms so rapidly?
“Do you really have to go to London tomorrow?” I murmur, giggling as his kisses tickle my neck. I think it’s great that his business is doing well, but I would love some protracted alone time with him. Does he constantly have to have events pop up last minute all the time?
“Do you have to go back to Sydney?” He asks back, his hands running up my thigh.
Running my hands on his chest, I would give anything to rip it off and let him have his way with me. But I really don’t think tonight is the right occasion. Looking down at his bandaged hand, I still can’t believe at what happened a few hours earlier. Tristan’s ex attempted to hold him hostage in her hotel room, she attempted to attack him with a knife, she got taken away by the hotel staff. And here I am with Tristan now, who is barely affected by it. He’s being his normal goofy, relaxed cad self.
“Mmmhmm, you know I do. You weren’t supposed to be getting a sudden charity ball to help organise. Are you sure you’re okay to get to work after what happened tonight and….oh…” A moan leaves me when his hands slide under my t-shirt, caressing my stomach. Oh god, I don’t know how much longer I can resist.
“No, I want to wait…” I reply with a shaky breath, knowing damn well I don’t really mean it.
Tristan kisses me gently, gosh he’s so yummy. “How long baby?”
Honestly? Right about now. But given our history, I want to take it slow. I want to know this is something serious first.
“At least a few dates!” I tease, kissing him back.
He puts his hands back on my hips, fisting the material of my flimsy shorts. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this. But I’m a patient man, I want to wait too.”
Shifting his body, he props his elbows up to stare down at me.
“Well, what do you want to do? On dates?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, normal couple stuff. Dinners, movies, bowling. I’d love to check out Webster’s Rooftop Bar.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Rooftop? You hate being in high places?”
Shuffling so I’m lying on my stomach, I trace my finger on his forearm. “It’s only three floors. Besides…you help me with that stuff. I don’t feel so scared of heights when I’m with you.”
Tristan grabs my hand, stroking my knuckles tenderly. “I would love to help you beat it for good. Just name it, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Biting my lip, I’m in awe of how much I care about this man. He’s sweet, sexy and kind. I think I’ve landed the perfect catch.
“So, if we are keeping this thing between us a secret how will it all work? You see my brother all the time. And Gabe obviously knows,” I say, trying to mask my bitterness at his insistence on keeping it a secret. I want nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone I know. Why is this such a big deal to him?
Tristan smiles and lies on his back, resting on his hand. “That’s cool about Gabe knowing. It’s not that I don’t want to tell Hansley or anyone else. It’s complicated. You don’t know how serious the bro code is, sisters are off-limits.”
I raise an eyebrow, suppressing an urge to laugh. “The code huh? Well it’s nice to know that men still care for the virtue of honour, especially when sex is involved.”
He gives me a ‘don’t-make-fun-look’. “I’m sure you women have something similar right? You wouldn’t be allowed to sleep with your best friend’s ex?”
“Well if I did sleep, both Gabe, I and his ex would be very surprised!”
We both laugh, and I lean into Tristan, planting him a soft kiss. Something tells me he isn’t going to budge on this topic, so I’m just going to go with his wishes. Surely, he won’t to keep it a secret forever. Right?
“It’s okay, I understand. Let’s just take it slow and see where this goes.”
Looking up at me, he tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I can’t freaking wait.”
But for tonight, it’s just me and him in this big cushy bed. And I want to take all the time in the world.
♦
I’m sitting in first class, fastening my elastic bands in place. I’ve had half a bottle of merlot already and I feel nice and relaxed, tipsy too. Stretching out my arms, I look to the seat next to me, hating that it’s empty. If only Gabe or Tristan was here, dammit. Oh well, I’ve got upcoming weddings to plan anyway.
Taking out my laptop, I relish at how comfortable my seat is. At le
ast if I’m going to fly alone, I get to fly in style. One thing I love about first class is the computer connectivity, so I’m going to take advantage of this on my plane ride back. I stand up to grab my carry-on bag, unzipping it to take my laptop out.
“Excuse me,” a clear and distinctly crisp voice utters, I think he’s talking to me.
I look up quickly to see the man sit at the seat next to me. Salt and pepper grey hair, white polo shirt, citrus scent. Turning back to the laptop, I plug it into the charger. I am never short of events to plan and I have another personal one to plan – my parent’s 30th anniversary, to be held at their house. Hansley and I discussed it on the phone before I left and we agreed that I will take care of the initial invitations and food, and he will organise the collage video and confirming any last minute guests.
“Somebody is keen to get some work done, hey?” that smooth voice utters. I look up at the guy sitting next to me. His thick rimmed spectacles serve to emphasise his already large and deep set blue eyes, which bear the beginnings of crow’s feet.
“Hmm me?”
“Yeah you,” he smiles.
“What can I say...I love my technology,” I say casually, keeping my eyes glued to the laptop.
He starts to say something but he doesn’t, and I go back to doing what I do best – planning events. He’s probably one of those chatty passengers but I am not, especially given my current situation. It’s okay Lacey, it’s just twenty-four freaking hours of being thirty thousand feet in the air. That’s totally cool with me…Oh what the hell am I talking about? It’s not cool, I’m going to have a few ‘moments’, I know it. Out from the corner of my ear, I heard the doors close and I start flicking the elastic bands on my wrist, I flick fast. I can feel the man sitting next to me watch me but he doesn’t say anything, he probably thinks I’m a freak now, anyone would! It’s okay, just keep doing this when I get nervous, I’ll be okay…
I-’ve been in the air four hours now and my stomach is nice and settled after a delicious lunch of yellowtail teriyaki with rice and mesclun greens and another glass of red wine. Things are going well. I feel relaxed, my stomach is nicely digested and I don’t have a worry in the world. As I’m finishing up a run sheet for an upcoming wedding, the plane starts shaking, violently. Shit...maybe it will go away. The floor beneath me rumbles even more, worse than before and I cover my head in desperation. I knew this was going to happen, I knew it but I didn’t have a choice. Just when I thought it was calming down, the plane shakes again and my laptop almost falls to the floor and I start panting as I close the lid, grabbing it and holding it in my arms like a baby. Uh oh, my head is swirling and it’s not just red wine. Breathe, Lacey, breathe. I recline back into the seat, pressing my eyes shut as the PA comes on.
“Ladies and gentleman, we’re just coming into some turbulence as we fly over the Pacific Ocean. Please fasten your seatbelts.”
I turn to my side, crossing my arms, refusing to move. My body is trembling, I feel cold and hot all at once. Another shake of the plane and I gasp, I feel so alone...
All of sudden I feel hands on me, warm hands. I turn around to see the kind eyes of the man sitting next to me.
“What are you...?”
“Keep your eyes open. Don’t hide from your fear, embrace it.” He probes the laptop out of my hands and places it on the shaking ground before turning his attention back to me, he’s not scared at all.
What is he talking about? Why is he being so nosy?
The flight attendant comes up to us but he quickly stands up to whisper something in her ear, and she walks away without a protest. He comes back to me, crouching near the seat, looking at me attentively.
“Forgive me, this is highly unorthodox but you clearly need some help,” he says, his voice gentle and commanding all at once. What gave it away? The fact that I’m lying in a foetal position, or the fact that I’m sweating with just my tank top and jeans on?
“Oh...I...” I can’t even finish my sentence, my tongue is completely curled up and stuck in my mouth.
He sits up slightly, and I can feel his eyes focused on me. “Now, do you feel that shaking?”
I nod, looking at him. “Uh-uh?”
“Everything you’re thinking, embrace it. Avoiding your anxiety maintains it and magnifies it,” he commands in his clear and smooth voice. It’s very persuasive and this might be the merlot and panic attack talking, but I feel I can trust him.
“It’s nothing, I just have a fear of heights. I’m not even that bad with flying…” the plane shakes and I exhale loudly again.
The man nods. “Keep acting out your symptoms. Don’t supress them, embrace them.”
I raise an eyebrow, startled by this man’s kindness and extremely direct advice. Is he qualified to tell a complete stranger how to deal with this type of thing? I am perfectly happy to sit and panic on my own.
“But—”
“Just try it. You’ve been subduing them too long, hiding from your fear too long. I want you to think about high up you are. You are thirty thousand feet above the ground—”
“No, stop saying that!” I try to cover my ears but he grabs my forearm.
“You are really high up. So high above the ground, and you have to stay on this plane until it lands. Keep telling yourself that alright?” he demands, his voice almost hypnotic. Nodding compliantly, I do as he says. Gripping my hands on the seat, I chant to myself again and again. I am really high up, there’s nothing I can do about it. I have to stay here until I land back on flat land. I have to deal with being this high up. My back feels clammy and I grip onto the seat, my feet shuffling nervously.
“Keep going, you’re doing really well,” he keeps encouraging me.
The plane shakes and my body shakes with it, and as he orders I let my body shake. I let the nerves take over me, and after a few minutes this really odd surreal feeling takes over me, covering me like an invisible blanket. I keep trembling and sweating until the plane eventually feels a bit more level and the floor beneath me is a bit steadier.
My hair is matted to my face, I tuck it behind my ear and peek up at this kind stranger. He helps me when, at best, I was aloof and distant. My faith in humanity is restored.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice frail.
He smiles faintly at me. “It’s the least I could do, I wouldn’t be a very good person if I didn’t help out a fellow passenger right?”
I sit up, taking a quiet and protracted breath. Everything is back to normal and I feel like myself again, plus half a bottle of wine has helped. Grabbing my blanket which had fallen to the floor, I wrap it around myself and face him with a smirk on my face.
“So, is this what you do, help out uncontrollable passengers? You’re not a sky marshal are you?”
To my surprise he laughs softly, “If I was, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.”
He better not be; the last thing I need to hear is that he’s on this plane to stop a possible terrorist attack!
“Or are you just an expert on helping edgy weirdos like me?”
The man takes off his glasses and wipes them quickly. His eyes are really blue, like ocean blue. “You could say that.”
“What are you, a doctor?” I blurt out without a second thought.
He gazes at me, his eyes blazing with honesty. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor…?”
He reaches out his hand, it’s perfectly manicured and groomed. “Edmund. Edmund Wright.”
I shake it back, his hand is soft, warm and manly at the same time.
“Thank you for your help, Doctor Edmund.”
Edmund looks at me, a rather appreciative look on his face. “I don’t usually do this - in fact I never do this - but would you ever consider getting treatment for your problem?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I think I could help you get over your fear of heights once and for all.”
Wow
. There goes a twist in the story I did not expect.
End of Part Four
THE FIRST CHAPTER FROM BOOK FIVE – TOKYO!
“Cheers to you,” Dr Edmund raises his glass to me and I grin shyly and clink my glass to his.
“Please, it’s really not necessary.” I blush, giggling as I sip back what is my fourth glass of white wine. I think I should stop, but Edmund keeps insisting on getting another drink once I finish mine.
“Yes, it is. You’re so young and look at what you’ve achieved, you have a massively successful business. And it all due to your own merit, that is very impressive, Lacey,” he glances at me speculatively through his glasses.
“My achievements? You have your own clinic in Sydney, that’s pretty hard to beat!” I say. No wonder his skin is so good, he knows the best products to use. Maybe I should ask him to recommend me some things too.
“To be honest, sometimes I think about a sea change. I’ve been to the States a few times and there’s lots of opportunity there.”
“Do your wife and kids get used to you always travelling?”
He knocks back the rest of his wine, keeping his eyes on me. “I don’t have any children, and I don’t have a wife.”
Oh. I’m surprised. He’s old enough to be married with kids. Or maybe he’s gay? That’s probably why I feel so comfortable with him, surely that’s it.
Suddenly, the indicator bell rings and the PA comes on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you,” the female flight attendant announces in a clear, soothing tone.
Is the flight almost over? How did this go by so quickly, it only feels like I’ve been on the plane for a few hours chatting to Edmund. Somehow I’ve spent fifteen hours listening to Edmund talk about how he travels between LA and Sydney frequently, how his brother has just welcomed his third child, how he is the perpetual bachelor of his siblings, how much he loves Vegemite and the fact that he eats plenty of whenever he comes back home from a work trip abroad. In between the meals, snacks and drinking he’s one of the most welcoming and friendly strangers I have met in a long time.