Office Grump An Enemies to Lovers Romance - Nicole Snow Page 0,42
sleep in until right before we land, then I’ll change. Or do I need permission for that, too?”
Her claws are out today for good reason.
I offer her a real smile, for once, shaking my head.
“Your call, Miss Bristol. I have nothing pressing for the flight.”
Still, who wastes a four-hour flight sleeping? I couldn’t do it if I tried.
She nods. “Shouldn’t we get moving? What time does the flight leave?”
“The plane is right behind us. Get in. You’ll sit at the front of the plane with me.” I use my thumb to motion to the jet behind us.
“That’s the plane?” Her eyebrow goes up. “But we have to go through security, don’t we?”
“I see this is your first time on a private jet.” I smile. “Because it’s our plane, we just check in with the pilot. Already done.”
She grins, rubbing her eyes. “So we don’t have to do the whole barefoot cattle thing?”
I laugh at her word choice.
“Not today. Or ever, if I have anything to say about it.”
“Thank God!” She jumps and almost drops the overnight bag, but catches it before it slaps the ground.
Then, before I know what’s happening, her little arms are around me, squeezing for dear life.
We share this awkward smile before her face heats and she melts away.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I couldn’t help it.”
I try like hell not to register how good her hands felt pressed to my back.
Fuck.
Then as she turns, I watch her take a step, still struggling with the bag as her laptop strap swings back and forth on her neck. I move so I’m right beside her, slip my hand under the straps, and lift the overnight bag away.
“I’ve got it.”
Just like that, I’m carrying my assistant’s bag on board as we head up the rollaway stairs.
Ironic.
She sits beside me in case anything critical comes up. I get the feeling she doesn’t fly much, even commercial, so I give her the window seat.
It’s a waste for me, anyway. I sit down and pull out my laptop, getting down to business.
Sabrina grabs a pillow and blanket from her overnight bag and goes to sleep. She has this cute little snore like a whistle, which starts even before we’re taxiing down the runway.
I usually knock out a heap of work on these flights, but I can’t focus today.
Listening to that cute whistle of a snore and occasionally glancing over to watch her while she sleeps drains my attention.
Damn.
Why is it like this? I should wake her up.
We both have prep work, even if it can wait a few hours. She’s going to have a hard time getting stuff done before the meeting if she wastes the entire flight and drags herself off the plane in L.A.
Unfortunately, the young woman looks so peaceful and exhausted I can’t find it in me to shake her awake.
Focus, I tell myself. Your ad managers have been drooling over this brand for weeks. This could unlock billions long-term.
It’s also the parent company of the subsidiary I barely finished the ad shoot for because I was so damn busy arguing with Sabrina Bristol in the park.
I shake my head, calling the flight attendant over.
She arrives a second later. “Yes, Mr. Heron?”
“I need my dark roast Kona I brought on board. Black.” I wave her away with my hand and stare at my laptop.
“Oh? Oooh.” Sabrina whimpers in a soft tone.
I glance over, my body hardening. The look on her face is equal parts seductive and angelic.
A wicked part of me hurts to know what she’s dreaming about.
The edge of my face warms at the thought. I grin because I don’t blush.
I can’t rip my eyes off her face, the magnetic flutter of her long lashes.
Those lush, biteable lips part softly.
Her head rolls against my shoulder, then silky chestnut hair brushes my arm, and two seconds later, I’m so fucking hard I could rip through my trousers.
This is damn wrong.
Good luck stopping the sudden fire in my veins, the way my eyes narrow, the hunger I feel with every single breath.
Then it’s her turn to take a deep breath. She shivers as it releases, then blinks her eyes a few times.
That rush of seduction washes away, bleeds back into innocence, and with each blink she becomes my assistant again. Not this delicate pixie thing straight from a wet dream, ripe for pillaging.
I clear my throat loudly as she opens her eyes, fully conscious, and takes in her surroundings.
Goddamn.
Sabrina—Miss Bristol—works for me. This shouldn’t be so fraught, but it is.