British Black Sheep - Lauren Smith Page 0,3
with him, but he leaned over and pulled the romance novel out of her lap and flipped it over to see the cover. He burst out laughing the second he saw it.
“Do you mind?” She pried one of her hands off the armrest to grab the book, but he swatted her hand away.
“This trash entertains you?”
“Trash? It’s not trash, you…” She bit her lip to keep from calling him an asshole. She usually had much better control of herself, but something about this guy set her on edge. Gorgeous men always did.
“Come now. All of it is bodice ripping mommy por—”
“Don’t say it!” She made another attempt to get her book back, but he leaned far enough away that she missed and her hand smacked his stomach. He had a hard, muscled abdomen, because of course he did. The man now thumbed through a random section of the book.
“Let’s see here… Heaving bosoms, a pirate lord, an arrogant naval officer who wants to marry the heroine. Yes, this is most definitely—”
Before he could finish, Brie unclipped her seatbelt and lunged at him, half landing on his lap as she struggled to free her book from his hands. He released the book immediately to grip her hips and steady her. If he hadn’t, she would have taken a swan dive into the first-class aisle with economy-class grace.
“Very well, take your book back Miss…”
“Honeyweather, Brie Honeyweather.”
“Brie?”
“Brie. B-R-I-E.”
“Like the cheese?” He laughed, drawing the attention of the man across the aisle. She became keenly aware that she was still sitting on the British asshole’s lap while she should have been strapped down by the window. Brie pulled free of him and sat back in her own seat, clutching her book.
“It’s short for Breanna.”
The asshole was still laughing at her.
“What’s your name? Or should I just call you Mr. Asshat?”
“You may call me whatever you like, Brie.” He emphasized her name with another chuckle. “Or you can call me Alec.”
Alec. Of course, he had a sexy sort of name. It couldn’t have been something silly like Eugene or Percy, something that would have lessened that British sex appeal.
“Well, Alec, I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you but…well…” She trailed off, feeling a tinge of guilt at her catty remark. It wasn’t like her at all.
She was not usually this rude, but this guy made it impossible to be nice. Maybe it was because he reminded her of Preston, and she was determined to see every flaw in advance. Not that she’s stood a chance of a guy like this. Not that she wanted to.
She was twenty-nine with a job that she could do from home, and she’d embraced her single life quite comfortably. She’d bet anything that this guy always dated models. Brie knew she was attractive, but she wasn’t a model; she was too curvy to pull off that waifish look, and she was only five foot five.
She tried to focus on her book, but soon gave up. After she retrieved her laptop from her bag, she pulled up her notes for the countess’s Christmas book and started plotting out chapters based on some the events that the countess said took place at Merryvale Court during the holidays. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that Alex opened his own laptop back up. Both were lost in their own work for at least an hour.
By the time the flight attendants came by to serve drinks and dinner, she was starving.
“Filet mignon or chicken Parmesan?” The flight attendant asked Alec with a broad smile. The young woman practically leaned on the seat in front of him, displaying her figure to her best advantage to catch his attention.
Alec’s eyes swept over her, but it wasn’t a very interested look, at least from what Brie could tell.
“The filet, please. Thank you.”
The attendant turned to her. “And you, miss?”
“The same.”
“For drinks we have this menu.” The attendant passed them a copy of the menu and Alec politely leaned left to let Brie see it at the same time.
“A Diet Coke,” Brie said.
“You’re in first class and you order a Diet Coke?” Alec muttered in disgust. Then he turned to the attendant. “A bottle of champagne, please. Two glasses.”
“Yes sir,” the attendant smiled once more at Alec, the invitation quite clear, but Alec only smiled back politely at the woman.
“You’ll try the champagne,” he informed Brie.
“Not very likely. You don’t seem like someone I’d want to share a drink with.”
“Because I took your book?”
“And