Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) - By Elizabeth Ruston Page 0,6

forced herself to turn to him and smile. “What, are we going to talk about our hopes and feelings now, Burke? I don’t think so.”

He studied her face for one long moment, then nodded. He stood and grasped the handle on his bag and found another seat far away.

Sarah looked down at her phone again, pretending to be absorbed. But she couldn’t help swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. She had planned to say something exactly like that to Burke, but it felt much better in her imagination. He looked hurt, and she should have been glad. She’d rehearsed it that way.

She sat up straighter and crossed a different leg. She still wore her suit. She could have changed into something more comfortable in one of the airport bathrooms, but Sarah preferred keeping her armor on until she was safely away from Joe for the night.

She had dressed very carefully that morning, all the way down to the black bra and panties that reminded her she was a warrior, a black belt in this game. She had no intention of ruining the effect by packing her outfit away and putting on the only other outfit she’d brought: loose workout pants, a T-shirt, and running shoes. She noticed Joe had taken off his coat and tie, but he still wore the suit pants and shirt.

Everything was power, Sarah knew, clothes in particular. She had known that since childhood, when her own generic jeans and off-brand shoes had marked her as poorer than most of the kids at her school, even though none of them would have qualified as rich.

There were so many nuances to how people saw you, Sarah thought: whether they assumed you were better than they were or worse. And she intended to capture and hold every single advantage she might gain now in her adult life, no matter how small that advantage might seem to someone else.

If wearing a tight skirt and high heels for a few more hours might make her appear more powerful than she felt at the moment, then they were worth it.

She took another bite of vegetables and rice, no longer enjoying the taste. But she needed the energy. It was the same reason she decided to make sure she got at least seven hours of sleep every night while she was on the road. And she wouldn’t have a drop of alcohol, even if a day spent with both Paul Chapman and Joe Burke would drive any woman to drink. Each of them for different reasons.

Sarah understood the rules of engagement: stay alert, always be watching for opportunities, and never let your guard down.

Check, check, and check.

She stole a glance at Joe, who now sat reading his own phone. Keeping his own gravitational force to himself, way on the other side of the room.

She felt it, and it bothered her. That familiar, comfortable pull of a body she used to know so well. A body she used to claim with as much right as if it had been her own. And a body that treated hers the same way.

Sarah sighed and stopped trying to read the irritating little screen. Her eyes naturally wandered in search of something more interesting.

And found Joe’s in return.

Sarah didn’t look away this time. She needed to be fiercer than that. The key was to have absolutely no expression on her face.

Joe obviously played by the same rule book. When he was done looking at her, a few long moments later, he calmly returned to his own work.

But Sarah knew: no matter how he acted now, she had gotten to him, if only just a little. How did she know? Because he was the one to make the first move.

And she was the one who shut it down.

Victory would taste a lot sweeter if only her chest would unclench. She’d have to work on that.

That, and the way all the cells in her body seemed to pull her in one direction whenever the man came too near.

But that was easy to fix: just stay as far away as possible.

Four

Paul Chapman lumbered past her up the aisle of the airplane.

“I’m in back,” he said unnecessarily. Sarah nodded as if she cared.

Joe had already boarded and sat a few rows ahead of her. Close enough that she had a view of him sitting in his aisle seat.

What was it, she wondered, that made him look so different? It wasn’t just his filled-out frame. It was the way he carried himself