It’s not her fault. I might have to show her, educate her. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy doing it. She bites down on her bottom lip. This woman has no idea what a fucking knock-out she is. That’s sexy in itself. I still can’t get over how much she looks like Gabby. They could be sisters…twins for that matter. It’s eerie.
I steal another look at her face. Her eyes are on the view outside. I can see a little fear and a whole lot of awe. She makes this little noise of exhilaration as we become airborne. It shoots straight to my cock as dirty thoughts flood my mind. I’m an asshole. She’s been honest with me. It almost killed her that she lied. Her face today when I told her she was stretching the truth… Miss Shaw is a colossal nerd. I need to get her to loosen up a whole hell of a lot.
She gasps as we do a circle over the city. From here, you can see the whole coastline in the distance. It is pretty spectacular. I fucking love her excitement at every little thing. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have my head buried in my work during take-off. It’s like seeing it all again for the first time. Why is it that I stopped looking?
It doesn’t take long to reach cruising altitude. The seatbelt signs turn off with a ‘ding’. The cabin attendant is at my side in a few seconds. “Hot towel?” she asks me, holding out a tray.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head.
“Hot towel?” she asks Miss Shaw.
“Oh…yes, thanks.” She takes one, wipes her hands and puts it back on the tray.
The cabin attendant turns back my way, she smiles as soon as our eyes meet. “What can I get for you to drink today, Bolt?” She leans forward a little, her bright green eyes on me. Her strawberry-blonde hair is tied back in a neat braid down her back.
I look over at my PA. “What do you say, Miss Shaw, shall we celebrate your appointment with a glass of champagne?”
She’s just unzipping her laptop bag. She stops what she’s doing, and her eyes lock with mine. I can see that she’s shocked at my suggestion. “Um…I have to type that agenda. We’re still,” she glances at her watch, “on the clock.”
“I happen to be the boss, Miss Shaw…I don’t think one little glass will hurt. I give my permission.”
She still looks completely shell-shocked at my suggestion. How I’m going to enjoy watching her unravel. She smiles. “I type with two fingers,” she holds them up, “remember? I need to get going, and I need all my wits about me. I appreciate the offer.” So damned polite.
“Fair enough.”
“Shall I get you your usual?” the cabin attendant asks, her perfectly plucked brows are raised.
“Sounds good.” I take out my laptop and look up when I realize she’s still there.
“Right away, sir.” She winks at me. I’m not sure why she keeps trying, I ignore her attempts every time. “And for you?” she asks my PA, her body language changing as soon as she turns. She’s not rude, she just isn’t her flirty self.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Miss Shaw says. “I have a water in my bag.” Probably safer that she doesn’t have any open beverages anywhere near her. I bite back a smile. She continues to unzip the bag and pulls out her laptop. “Wow! This is nice,” I hear her mumble to herself.
The cabin attendant heads to the galley to fetch my drink. I log into my own computer and start working through my endless emails. A job I’ll pass on to my new PA soon. For now, I think she’s already in over her head.
“Here you go,” Miss Strawberry-Blonde says, opening up the table next to me. She puts my drink down on a small napkin. “A double of your favorite Irish whiskey with one block of ice, just the way you like it,” she purrs. “For lunch, I can offer confit pork belly with pomme liyanaise and apple purée, or turbot and morels with peas and a vin jaune sauce. I have numerous snack options if you’re not feeling hungry.”
“I’ll have the turbot. Don’t overheat my meal.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Bolt.” She winks at me again, and I have to hold back a scowl.
Then she turns to Miss Shaw. “And for you, ma’am?”
“Um…what were the options again?” She’s frowning hard.
“Confit pork belly with pomme