Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,22

relaxed, but she still wasn’t looking in my direction. Her entire focus seemed to be looking at whatever was outside her window.

Honestly, I should be grateful that she’d refused a ride. I had a car and driver picking me up, which would have looked a little weird for a normal guy. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel overjoyed that she’d refused. In fact, it was more than a little depressing that she hadn’t hesitated to turn me down flat.

“Still feeling unhappy about the way your meeting went?” I had to ask. The whole situation at Lancaster wasn’t her fault.

She turned her head to look at me, and the sad smile on her lips hit me like a sharp kick in the balls. “I’ll live,” she answered flatly. “Eventually, I guess I’ll see it as a learning experience.”

“The circumstances were out of your control, Nicole. Don’t blame yourself.” Dammit! For some reason, I still wanted to console her.

She leaned back against the headrest, her eyes still on me. “Thanks for letting me talk about it earlier. I’m so sorry I…had a little too much to drink.”

Ahhh…so she was embarrassed about that. “Don’t be sorry. It was a fascinating…discussion.”

Her cheeks flushed a rosy red, so I knew damn well she hadn’t forgotten that kiss. That damn kiss!

She shook her head. “I wasn’t myself. At all.”

“Meaning that, as a rule, you don’t kiss a man you barely know during a long-haul flight?”

“Never,” she said adamantly. “I’m so sorry, Damian. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“Don’t,” I said gruffly. “Don’t regret it.”

She tilted her head as she gazed at me curiously. “I don’t. Not really. It’s just a little mortifying that I got tipsy enough to fall into your lap and let it happen. Just tell me that you’re not married or seriously involved with someone.”

I felt a little insulted. “Do you really think I would have kissed you if I was?”

She lifted a brow. “Do you really need to ask that question? Guys do it all the time.”

I pointed a finger at my chest. “Not this guy.”

Okay, so now I knew that I definitely couldn’t tell her that I was Damian Lancaster, apparent thrower of large orgies and a guy who needed more than one woman in his bed.

At least, that’s what she’d think if she knew.

She nodded slowly. “Then I guess I can say it was nice meeting you.”

I grinned. “It was more than nice meeting you, Nicole Ashworth,” I responded.

The wheels hit the runway, and I was suddenly slammed back into reality.

Nicole would go her way, and I’d go mine.

It was time for this pleasant little interlude to end.

I was Damian Lancaster, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about that fact.

Like it or not, I was never going to see this mesmerizing woman again.

This flight couldn’t end any other way.

I stood to take my suit jacket from the flight attendant once the jet got to the gate.

“Oh, my God. You are tall,” Nicole said in a slightly awed voice as she got up from her seat.

I lifted her suitcase to bring it into the aisle for her. As she stood beside me, I realized just how much height those long, beautiful legs added to her stature.

The woman was beautifully statuesque, but she was at least half a head shorter than me.

I had no idea why she thought being tall and curvy was a negative thing.

I shrugged. “Being tall has its advantages.”

“Not when you’re taller than most of your dates,” she answered wryly.

Dates?

Dates?

Why did it bother me to think about Nicole being with any other man? It wasn’t like we were an item.

I had to remind myself that we hardly knew each other.

I looked down and our gazes locked as we waited for the doors to open so we could disembark.

For an instant, I could barely ignore the urge to swoop down and kiss those gorgeous lips of hers again.

Opportunity was knocking, and I wanted to fling that door wide open, and say to hell with the consequences.

Fierce need to claim this woman was eating my guts out.

We were so close that I could literally feel the warmth of her breath on my face.

I clenched my fists, trying to fight the powerful urge to touch her, to kiss her again, until a voice of caution rang pretty damn loudly inside my head.

And then what, Damian? Provided she lets you paw her in public, what happens after that? You have to let go, man. Seeing her again, hiding your true identity,