Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,56

minutes.” My explanation was much too forced, even to my own ears.

Nicole’s warm palm gently stroked my jaw as she said, “You look kind of pale, Damian. Hang on.”

The captain had reached altitude, so Nicole wasn’t confined to her seat. I heard her unbuckle her belt, and get to her feet.

“Where are you going?” I inquired weakly in protest. It wasn’t like she could go far, but I felt like I should get my ass up and show her around.

“Don’t move,” she instructed from a distance.

I opened one eye, and saw her chatting with the attendant assigned to the flight, a very sweet, efficient, middle-aged woman named Claire who I’d stolen away from Transatlantic because she’d been thinking about retiring from the rigorous schedule she had to maintain on commercial flights.

Claire had worked for my airline for almost thirty years, so I’d convinced her that she’d have it far easier working part-time for me.

I closed my eye again, hoping to Christ the aspirin I’d taken before the flight would kick in soon.

Nicole eventually came back to her seat, and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Here, Damian. Take these.”

I lifted my head and took the water and pills from her hand. “I already took some aspirin.”

She shook her head. “Ibuprofen will work better. It’s an anti-inflammatory. Just take them.”

I didn’t argue. I popped the pills in my mouth and chased them with a slug of water.

Nicole took the cup from me. “My mother used to have headaches like this,” she said. “It was miserable for her. Do you have a shower in this floating hotel? Never mind. I’ll check it out myself. Just rest for a while.”

“Nicole, I’ll be fine,” I told her.

When she didn’t reply, I knew she’d already gone exploring.

Five minutes later, I felt her take her seat gingerly. Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Oh, my God. It’s like a five-star hotel back there.”

Apparently, she’d found the master suite, master bath, and probably the theater room, too. “I like to be comfortable when I fly, which is pretty often.”

“Do you log any time on that enormous bed back there?” she asked dryly.

I wanted to crack a bawdy joke about her comment, but I couldn’t muster the energy to do it. “I occasionally sleep there, yes.”

“You need to do more than take a nap,” she scolded. “You need a hot shower to relax you, and a good night’s sleep. It will make a world of difference. Let’s get you into the shower.”

I felt her tug on my hand, and my cock suddenly became very interested in her intentions. Apparently, even excruciating misery couldn’t keep my dick from responding to Nicole.

I opened my eyes. “Are you planning on getting me naked?”

She frowned at me, which I decided I didn’t like at all. “I’ll help you. Come with me.”

The innuendo had obviously flown right over her head because her focus was on curing my nasty headache.

What the hell? I was more than willing to follow her if she was going to help me take off my clothes.

Not that I wasn’t capable of doing that myself, but I was beyond curious to see how far Nicole would actually go to ease my pain.

I quickly disengaged the clip on the seat belt, got up and followed her to the back of the plane.

I sure as hell wasn’t used to anybody trying to help me, but I couldn’t deny that I was touched by her tender concern. How long had it been since a woman other than my mum had worried about me for any reason?

My brain was a little foggy from pain, but I was fairly certain no female had ever really cared about my physical wellbeing since I’d always been very capable of performing sexually.

But this…this whole tender affection thing was brand-new, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. Okay, it wasn’t that I didn’t like getting it from Nicole, but I had no idea how to respond.

She closed the door to the master suite behind me. “Let’s get you undressed.”

There was absolutely no artifice in her tone. Her gentle voice was that of a woman who simply wanted to…help me.

Suddenly, I felt like a complete wanker for playing along just to see how far she’d go.

Granted, my head was pounding, and I was feeling a little nauseous because my lack of sleep was catching up with me, but I wasn’t exactly an invalid.

“Maybe I’ll just lay down for a while,” I sputtered. Guilt was starting