“So you want to live in my hometown. Your family obviously has money.” I
waved my hand around the cabin as proof. “You like kissing me. Explain to me
again why we can’t get to know each other.”
“Because it can lead to more. And that would be a violation of trust.
Your dad trusted me with you.”
“Technically, it was Jennifer.”
“It’s all the same.”
Always the marine. I pulled my hands away from his. I had to stop doing
that with him. Even if he liked me, he still had a job to do. “Fine. So as soon
as we land, we can go get Ben from his hiding place, get him to make me a
proper heiress, and live happily ever after with our shiny new jobs.”
That got a chuckle out of him. “That’s more or less the gist of it.
Though you skipped several steps.”
I rose and made my way to the galley to pour myself a wine. When I
stepped back to pull out a cart, I bumped into Matt. The adrenaline shock was
immediate, followed by an electric current when his lips touched my shoulder.
“It pains me when you make that face.”
“What face?” I turned around, keeping my hands on his so he wouldn’t let
“It’s not that I don’t want you.”
I got that we were on a mission here. But Matt felt like home, and I’d
been away from family for too long. He worried about me. He cared whether or
not I lived, which was something I knew for a fact was not a concern my parents
had about me. Mom certainly never sent someone to ask me to call her and go see
her. Dad didn’t even think to pretend to send me to Paris because Mom wanted to
see me. He wanted me gone. Period.
I slipped my fingers into Matt’s dark hair and made a fist. His breath
puffed out against my face, cool from the ice water he’d been drinking. I
sighed and pressed my lips to him. If he wanted me to stay away, he would be on
the other side of the plane. As it happened before, kissing him was like waking
a sleeping titan. He embraced me, all hard muscle, hot skin, and soft lips. I
ran my nails against the grain of his stubble. When he parted his lips,
yielding to me, I touched the tip of my tongue to his bottom lip, then went
deeper. He tasted like mint.
“You’re so smooth,” he said when I pulled back to catch my breath. He ran
a hand up my arm and down my neck. “So beautiful.”
I kissed him again. I didn’t need words. I needed him. Unlike before, he
didn’t yield to me. Instead, he cupped my face and let his smooth tongue do the
exploring. Jesus, this guy was a thousand turn-ons, but what did it for me was
the desperation in his breathing, ragged and for once, out of control. If he
hadn’t been holding me, I would have melted off the plane.
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