Nicole
Maybe there’s a time in everyone’s life when they wonder about the wisdom of their career choices.
Unfortunately, I was currently having that moment on foreign soil, in the middle of Heathrow International Airport, while I waited in line to board my flight so I could get my ass back to California where I belonged.
My business was done in London, and I was leaving with the knowledge that I’d managed to completely bomb my attempt to acquire my first, very large international client here in the UK.
I probably should have let Kylie do this pitch. But my second-in-command had some important meetings scheduled with our U.S. customers, so I’d actually volunteered for this disaster.
I sighed as the line to board my flight creeped forward at such a slow pace that I swore I was never going to get to my seat.
Behind me, I could hear a frustrated infant wailing.
I’m right there with you, little dude. I want to get the hell out of England, too.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly the end of the world if Ashworth Crisis Management didn’t acquire clients in London right now, but I’d really hoped we could expand.
Wait! Correction: It had always been my mom’s goal to go worldwide.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t my mother, and ACM wasn’t exactly flourishing and growing underneath my control.
I managed to smile weakly at the flight attendant as I finally boarded, trying to blow off my crappy mood, and not replay my London business failure over and over in my head.
Dammit! I’d been prepared.
I’d been ready.
I’d been completely certain of exactly what I was going to say to persuade Lancaster International that they needed a skilled crisis management team at their disposal.
Maybe it was a tough sell. Lancaster International had an entire department full of general public relations staff, but it wasn’t impossible. ACM was different, highly qualified to deal with emergency situations.
Which is exactly why I blew it. I’d had the chance to prove to Lancaster, in real time, exactly what we could do, but I hadn’t.
I’d maintained my confidence well…until the eldest Lancaster brother had decided that last night had been an ideal time to make the tabloids explode with a naked picture of himself, and a bevy of nude females.
I hadn’t had time to actually see the article or picture. The story had broken approximately three minutes before my presentation.
I’d had to face an entire conference room of suits, every one of them looking at me expectantly, like I should be able come up with a solution for their mega-disaster.
I couldn’t.
I hadn’t been prepared for that.
Yeah, I knew the basics about the Lancaster family, but since there had never been a whisper of scandal about any of them, I’d focused more on the company and its very long history of acquiring failing companies and making them lucrative again.
The opportunity to pitch to Lancaster International had come up without much notice, so I’d focused on what I could do for the company as I’d prepared a hurried, but what I thought was a thorough presentation.
Nowhere in my research had I come across the information that one of the Lancaster brothers was still young enough to have sex.
Yeah, I knew that the company was run by two Lancaster brothers, but I’d assumed they were…elderly. Like in no-longer-possible-to-even-get-it-up old.
Apparently, the eldest Lancaster male was still young enough if he’d been in bed with several naked women.
I should have switched gears, and went to the rescue to solve their problem. I’m a crisis manager. That’s what I do for God’s sake.
I’d had nothing for them. Not a single suggestion. Not a word to say about handling something I wasn’t prepared to conquer. I’d been more focused on possible chemical spills, environmental hazards, sudden stock instability, etc. etc.
How in the hell could I have known that one of the family members would suddenly do something to draw the attention of the entire country? Sure, I knew there was a Lancaster family behind the behemoth corporation, but I’d seen very little press about any of them while I was doing my research. The possibility of something like that happening hadn’t even been on my radar.
Lancaster International had a sterling reputation, and had maintained that stature for generations.
Stop stressing, Nicole. You can’t change something that’s already happened.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to release the tension built up there. Usually, I was the kind of woman who could blow off a failure, and move forward, but this one was sticking with me. The humiliation factor was still too fresh.
Thank God. This stupid line is finally moving.
Some passengers with seats in the front had stored their bags, and moved out of the aisle. As I looked for my own seat, I told myself that I needed to stop tormenting my psyche with all of the things I could have said or done.
It was over, and the opportunity to prove how flexible ACM could be to one of the largest, most powerful companies in the world had already flown right out of my grasp.
It’s too damn late to worry about it…now.
I’d frozen, stumbling through my prepared presentation instead of finding a way to address Lancaster’s immediate needs.
I wasn’t exactly spontaneous.
Never had been.
I planned, I executed that plan to the letter, and then I conquered.
Throwing a very large wrench into my well-prepared pitch had entirely crippled me.
I liked everything neat and tidy, and my lack of flexibility had jumped up and bit me in the ass.
Sure, they said they’d be in touch, but the message of don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-you had come across loud and clear at the end of my presentation.
I’d never hear from Lancaster International, and honestly, if I couldn’t sell a company who needed a crisis manager as much as they did at that moment, who was I going to be able to convince in the future?
Mom could shift gears on the spot, and use new information to her advantage.
Problem was, I wasn’t my mother, and probably never would be as sharp as she’d been in this business.
Me? I was a spontaneity failure, and I was just going to have to live with the fact that I’d bombed a critical presentation she could have skated through.
Relief flooded my uptight body as I flopped into my seat by the window, and glanced at the empty space beside me, hoping it would remain unoccupied. There was a large armrest between me and the recliner next door, but things felt a little awkward when I was traveling alone.
I never knew whether to talk to the person next to me, or just pretend that they weren’t there. I hadn’t really flown enough yet to know the etiquette of frequent business fliers.
My phone pinged just as I was awkwardly shoving my carry-on into the small cubby provided. I scrambled for my purse and rummaged through the contents until I found my phone.
I looked at the text.
Kylie: How did it go?
Me: Don’t ask. I don’t have Mom’s charm. I doubt Lancaster will be calling anytime soon. I should have taken the domestic clients and let you do this trip. We’d probably have our largest client yet if you’d done the presentation.
Kylie: It can’t be that bad. Did you meet any of the Lancaster brothers? I’ve never seen any of them, but I’ve heard they’re pretty hot.
Hot? The Lancaster brothers were hot? Obviously, Kylie knew far more about the family than I did. When I thought about billionaire brothers who ran a company, it brought to mind gray-haired grandfathers who were older than dirt. Apparently, the Lancaster brothers were younger than I’d thought. Either that, or my best friend had suddenly gotten a fetish for men old enough to be her grandparent.
Me: I wouldn’t know. Didn’t see any of them. The eldest was too busy out causing a scandal that I didn’t know about until three minutes before the meeting. Long story. I’ll explain later.
I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I blinked them back. Part of me felt like I’d not only failed my company, but my deceased mother, too.
Kylie: I’m sure everything went fine. You worry too much. Give yourself a break. You were used to everything being neat and tidy in corporate law. PR is really messy. I hope you at least managed to find a gorgeous Brit and have a fling. That sexy Brit accent in the bedroom would be enough to make any woman have a screaming orgasm.
I rolled my eyes. Kylie Hart wasn’t only the amazing Director at Ashcroft Crisis Management; she’d been my best friend since grade school. She, and our other friend, Macy, were the only ones who knew that I’d never had the elusive big O with any of the men I’d dated. The supposed monumental event that my misguided friend just knew was going to change my life and the way I looked at myself. Kylie was beyond eager to find my Mr. Orgasm.
I, however, didn’t even think about it much anymore.
Me: No fling. No orgasm.
Personally, I was convinced that the female orgasm during sex was probably highly overrated. I’d had two sexual relationships. A woman didn’t get to the age of thirty-two without sleeping with a guy. Okay. Yeah. Sex was pleasant with the right person, but I was convinced the screaming pleasure women talked about was like a unicorn: I wanted to believe it existed, but the proof was pretty damn elusive.
“You’ve never had an orgasm. Seriously? How is that even possible?”
I froze as a deep, definitely British male voice sounded right beside me.
Startled, I jerked my gaze from my phone to the previously empty space next to me, only to meet a pair of sexy green eyes that were staring at me in total disbelief.
When in the hell did this British Adonis sit down?
Obviously, the seat next to me wasn’t going to stay vacant. In fact, there was one very muscular, very attractive body filling up the space that had been vacant just a few minutes ago.
All of my senses sprang to attention as I inhaled, and caught a whiff of the most alluring, masculine scent my olfactory sensors had ever experienced.
I fought the urge to just close my eyes, and wallow in the fragrance that screamed hot, unbridled, deliciously dirty sex. I had no idea how I recognized that since I’d never personally indulged in that kind of sexual encounter. Ever.
I squirmed in my seat. The guy was close. Too close. In fact, he was leaning sideways in my direction so he could…
I flipped my phone over so he couldn’t see it, and then leaned back to avoid whatever sexy pheromones this man seemed to exude in abundance. “You’re reading my texts? Who does that?”
I swallowed hard as I put a hand on his shoulder to push him over, so he wasn’t encroaching on my personal space.
He moved like he suddenly realized that he was being incredibly rude.
I flipped my cell phone over again, and my fingers fired off a brief message to Kylie.
Me: Gotta go. Taking off. Catch you at home.
I quickly got out of the text window, put my phone in airplane mode, and shoved it back into my purse without looking at the jerk sitting next to me. I was still confused as to why anyonewould want to read my text messages.
Like this entire day hasn’t been crappy enough?
Of course the guy sitting next to me is a creeper! It’s the perfect end to a really bad day. Perfect. Just. Freaking. Perfect.
He straightened up in his seat completely as he finally spoke. “You looked upset, like you were going to cry, so I read your messages to find out why you looked so unhappy. I found your texts…fascinating.”
I turned my eyes to him again, and took a long, hard look at my offender, now that he was back in his own space.
I was angry, but I wasn’t blind. The man was gorgeous, and judging by the way his peridot green eyes were looking back at me, I could tell he was also slightly….amused.
I had to admit that he was the most attractive creeper I’d ever seen.
I gawked back at him because I could. He was staring at me, so I proceeded to evaluate him thoroughly, without a single ounce of remorse for blatantly checking him out.
He was probably in his early to mid-thirties, but the way he wore his dark gray, custom suit made him seem…sophisticated. He appeared to be confident to the point of arrogance. Everything about him was immaculate, from his dark, thick hair to the way his subtle cologne made me want to lean closer so I could inhale the essence until I was drunk on it.
Everything about this man screamed hard control, and self-discipline.
So why in the hell had he leaned over to read my text messages?
His appearance and his behavior just weren’t jiving.
The only thing that made this man softer was the teasing look in his eyes right now, and that irritatingly pleasant baritone voice.
No doubt that sexy, low baritone with that appealing British accent could make most women drop their panties.
But I wasn’t most women. I was Nicole never-had-a-fling-or-dropped-my-panties-easily-in-my-entire-life Ashcroft. I wasn’t a victim to my sexual desires. At least I never had been…until him.
I turned my gaze toward the window, determined to ignore the way my body felt completely primed and ready crawl up this man’s body and demand he satisfy what he’d created.
Dammit! I hated the way he made me feel, and I had to wonder if he was secretly laughing at me.
Honestly, I hoped he didn’t say another word for the entire flight. Kylie was right. There was something about his low baritone and his sexy British accent that made me want to forget he was invading my privacy. Part of me actually wanted him to keep on encroaching on my personal space so I could absorb his tantalizing scent again.
Suddenly, my brain overrode my hormone-stimulated body. What in the hell was I thinking?
I have to get a grip. Attractive or not, he’s way too pushy, and he crossed the line from inquisitive to disturbing by reading my text messages.
I finally found my voice because I couldn’t let him off scot-free with my silence.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I was having a private conversation. Invading my space to read my messages was just…weird and intrusive.”
He shrugged a set of very broad shoulders. “Not very private if you’re having that discussion on a jet with several hundred other passengers, beautiful.”
I opened my mouth to give the jerk a lecture, and then closed it again.
Beautiful? He called me beautiful.
I wasn’t used to hearing that, and he’d stunned me into silence.
Was he actually hitting on me?
No! Of course he isn’t. He’s using me for sport. He’s getting some kind of twisted amusement out of this whole situation.
I’d never been a woman who would make any guy look at me twice. Hell, they didn’t even linger the first time. I was a blonde, but more often than not, I tamed the curly locks into submission by wearing them in a contained style away from my face. Other than my light hair, I had very few memorable physical assets.
I’d gained my freshman fifteen even before I’d started college, and then that weight gain had turned into a sophomore twenty.
My five-foot-ten height scared most men away. In heels, I was taller than most any guy in a room. Okay, okay. Even in flats, I matched or towered above a room full of people. I felt big, awkward, and I had to remind myself often not to slouch so I felt more comfortable.
I was wearing flats today, and I hadn’t bothered with much makeup since I’d been getting ready to board a twelve-hour flight. I’d braided my crazy hair, thrown on a pair of jeans with a casual blouse, and headed toward the airport, feeling utterly gutted.
I was as far from beautiful as a woman could get. Especially today.
I wasn’t exactly down on myself. I was intelligent. I knew that. I’d gotten a ton of scholarships to get through college, and then law school at Harvard.
However, I’d gotten totally screwed in the gene pool lottery, but was there really any harm in being realistic? I was frightfully tall, big boned, and bordering between curvy and plump. In all honesty, it wasn’t exactly a shocker that no guy had ever been complimentary about my physical appearance.
I was really annoyed that the quintessential Mr. Orgasm sitting next to me was using me to play some twisted game.
“Don’t call me beautiful. Don’t try to distract me from the point I was trying to make. It wasrude and very creepy that you were reading my messages.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I spoke. For some unknown reason, I was looking at his startling green-eyed stare again, like his perfect features were a magnet that drew my eyes to him.
Angry with myself for drooling over a man whose only intention was to needle me, I sharply turned my head to look out the window again.
It doesn’t matter if he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Ted Bundy had been attractive and charming at times, and look how that had turned out for almost every woman who crossed his path. This guy is obviously a psycho wrapped up in a very desirable package, which makes him all the more dangerous.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not trying to…distract you. I’m just trying to figure out why a woman like you has never had an orgasm.”
I huffed. “That would be none of your business.”
He’s definitely a creeper if he’s digging for information about my non-existent sex life.
“Maybe I want to make it my business. Maybe I want to understand,” he answered in a deceptively casual tone. “And I’d love to know what happened with Lancaster International.”
I kept my head turned toward the window as I snapped, “Do you always get what you want?”
“Yes. Almost always,” he answered.
I ignored his arrogance as I realized that he’d actually asked about Lancaster International.
Holy shit! Had he been reading my texts for that long? The knowledge that he’d been surveying my conversation with Kylie since the very beginning made me livid. “Lancaster International would also be none of your business,” I said in a snippy tone that I hoped would shut him up.
God, he really had to stop talking. I didn’t want to hear another word spoken in that annoyingly hot accent.
Not that it’s really getting to me. Because really, how could there be anything sexy about a man who wants to play me like I’m an idiot?
The bastard could just use the in-flight entertainment system if he wanted some kind of distraction to pass the time on this ridiculously long flight.
Gorgeous or not, this man was trouble, and I needed to just stop holding a conversation with him. Period.
I felt his body shift, and I peeked sideways as he stood up to take off his suit jacket to hand it to the flight attendant to hang up in a closet.
Sweet Jesus!
I hated myself for feeling breathless because he was so incredibly tall, bulky, and built like a Greek god. Broad shoulders tapered down to a very fit waist. I was almost certain that he had some mouthwatering six-pack abs underneath the expensive linen of his stark white dress shirt.
Put your tongue back in your mouth, Nicole! He might be physically stunning, but he’s also a crazy man, and not in a good way.
I forced my eyes away from the Adonis, disgusted with myself as my hands fumbled with my seatbelt to get it fastened. The huge jet had started moving, but I’d been too caught up in lust to notice that immediately.
I kept my eyes glued to the window as we prepared to lift off.
Once the plane was in the air, I could pull out my laptop and try to get some work done. It would be as if the smoldering hot man beside me didn’t even exist. Once I was buried in work, I could block out everything.
I felt his movement as he took his seat again. I heard him fasten his seatbelt as he said, “We do have twelve hours for me get the information out of you.”
His highhanded tone set my teeth on edge, and it pissed me off that he hadn’t just kept that gorgeous mouth closed. “I don’t like to talk when I’m traveling. I have work to do.”
He let out a long, masculine sigh. “As a matter of fact, I have a rather large amount of work to accomplish myself. But I’m afraid that my laptop isn’t as intriguing as you are right now. Care to satisfy my curiosity so I can concentrate on my own work?”
“No,” I answered sharply. I decided to keep things simple. “I’m tired. My business in London was a failure, and I’d prefer a silent plane ride back home to contemplate my utter humiliation if you don’t mind.”
I had no idea why I’d decided to tell him that my London venture had been a gigantic fail. Maybe I was hoping it would make him mind his own business.
“You know you want to talk about it,” he said persuasively—in that damnably sexy British accent. “I’m a stranger, right? You’ll never see me again. Why not vent to somebody you don’t know, and will never see again?”
Ugh! Didn’t this guy have an Off switch attached to those sensual lips of his? “Has it occurred to you at all that maybe I just don’t like you? You were reading my text messages for God’s sake. It’s nearly impossible to like or confide in a disturbed individual who does something like that.”
I hoped that comment would offend him just a little, that he’d…Just. Stop. Talking.
Oddly, I seemed to have absolutely no filter when it came to my frustrating seat mate. Usually, I could ignore what was going on around me, especially when I was working, but I couldn’t seem to keep my own mouth shut at the moment.
When I heard a low rumble of laughter next to me, it was pretty annoying to admit to myself that my tactic to silence him had been completely unsuccessful.
Hadn’t he just said he almost always got what he wanted?
The obnoxious man obviously wasn’t going to give me the peace I now craved until he was satisfied.
I sighed. He was right about one thing. Underneath my anger, I really did want to vent about what happened at Lancaster International because I wanted to make sense out of why a perfectly intelligent woman had managed to screw up a presentation that meant so much.
I just didn’t want to do it with a guy who got a kick out of using me as a source of entertainment.
Maybe, if he was a decent guy, I would have spilled my guts to Mr. Orgasm. The fact that I’d never see him again made the prospect pretty damn tempting.
If only he wasn’t the most annoying guy I’d ever met.
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