started to read things into it that hadn’t been there. He’d never lied to her, he’d never told her that she was special or led her on in any way—yet his kisses and his love-making had done the lying for him. Being with him had been somehow addictive, and to get her fix she had reassured herself that her emotions were not in any way involved, hence those glib remarks when she had first slept with him. But the truth was she had found it harder and harder to disconnect her feelings.
She bit down on her lip as she admitted the full extent of her mistake. Some sort of madness must have possessed her. Or maybe on a subconscious level she’d lied to herself as self-preservation against getting involved with someone who was clearly a heartbreaker.
At least she had pulled herself back from the brink before any real disaster. And she had to differentiate between what was real and what was an illusion now.
Alexi the steely controlled businessman was real—Alexi the warm, passionate lover was not.
The car pulled to a halt by the edge of the airfield and the driver came round and opened the door for them. Katie stepped out into the warmth of the evening. The company jet was standing on the tarmac ready and waiting for them with the steps down.
Someone came over to speak to Alexi. There were a few formalities, and moments later they were proceeding up the steps into the luxury of the aircraft.
Katie had travelled on board the aeroplane with Alexi just once before when they’d been attending a conference in Paris. She didn’t want to think about how they’d spent that one-hour flight now. It was definitely better forgotten when she had hours alone with him stretching ahead.
She took some papers out of her briefcase and put them on the seat beside her before placing the case in the overhead compartment. Then she sat next to the window and fastened her seatbelt.
Alexi was talking to the pilot. The door was open between the cabin and the cockpit, and Katie tried to pretend that she had been focusing on the dials and lights of the controls rather than on Alexi as he turned towards her.
He was too damn handsome, she thought distractedly. At thirty-five, he was definitely a man in his prime. The suit sat perfectly on his broad-shouldered frame, the white shirt emphasising the olive tones of his skin, the darkness of his hair and eyes.
He took the suit jacket off and tossed it casually over the arm of the seat before putting his case overhead. There wasn’t a spare inch of flesh on him; he was lean and muscular and incredibly fit. She wrenched her eyes away as he took the seat opposite.
‘We should have a smooth flight; the weather forecast is good,’ he told her as he fastened his seatbelt.
One less thing to worry about then, she thought dryly. Now if she could just keep her mind on work and not on how attractive she found him, and how pleasurable that hour had been in here last time, she’d be OK.
He smiled at her. ‘We’ll get through some of that paperwork as soon as we take off. Then hopefully there will be time to relax, get some sleep.’
She remembered him telling her that these huge seats folded down into beds. However they had never actually got round to converting the seats, they’d been in too much of a hurry. They’d just folded down the armrests, and then Alexi had reached for her …
Her stomach dipped with a sudden surge of adrenalin. Don’t think about it, she warned herself fiercely.
The door between them and the pilot closed, sealing them in alone. Then the engines fired up and after a few moments they were taxiing out along the runway. She glanced out of the window. Dusk was falling fast. Night flights were good, she told herself positively. After the day she’d had, she would probably have no difficulty sleeping.
They halted at the start of the runway as they waited for take-off clearance.
Her eyes met with Alexi.
‘Do you remember our flight to Paris?’ he asked her suddenly.
She felt that dipping sensation in her stomach again. ‘No. Not really.’
He smiled, and she realised her reply didn’t fool him for a moment.
‘And I’m surprised you remember it,’ she continued swiftly. ‘I mean, one dalliance at thirty-five-thousand feet must be like another to you.’
One eyebrow rose at that. ‘You think?’
She shrugged and looked away from him.
He said something to her in Greek suddenly. Although his looks were Mediterranean, it always surprised her to hear him speak his native language, possibly because he spoke such perfect English.
‘What does that mean?’ she asked him, trying to ignore how the sound of his voice sent provocative shivers racing through her.
‘It means that I thought our time together that day was pretty spectacular.’ He laughed as she flushed a deep shade of beetroot. ‘And I’m glad now that I didn’t tell you the exact translation—otherwise you might set the cabin on fire.’
‘Stop it, Alexi!’ she muttered in embarrassment. ‘The past is forgotten, OK? It’s a taboo subject—a different planet.’
He shot her a mocking look as the aircraft-engines roared, and suddenly they were thundering down the runway. ‘Time for take off.’
He seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in deliberately winding her up, she thought uncomfortably.
How was she going to get through this time alone with him?
She didn’t think she would ever be able to be at ease with him again. It was too … dangerous. He’d made her behave in a way that was totally out of character for her. Made her desire him … and need him. She didn’t want to remember that. But being around him made it almost impossible to forget.
The plane lifted off the ground, and for a moment there was a weightless sensation as they floated up through the clouds.
The lights of London disappeared, and a little while later the seatbelt sign was switched off.
‘Do you want a drink before we get down to things?’ He glanced over.
‘No thanks.’ Even the way he was wording things was sending her nervous system into orbit. Everything was going to be OK, she told herself steadily, as long as she kept her senses firmly in the land of reality and the present.
Alexi got to his feet to take out his briefcase from the overhead compartment. ‘So, you didn’t tell me—what part of France does your sister live in?’ he asked idly as he snapped it open and took papers out.
‘The southwest; a small village called Aviger.’
‘Is she married to a Frenchman?’
‘No, Lucy is single.’
Her sister was as bad at picking men as she was, Katie thought wryly. In fact they had both decided not long ago that it was the curse of the Connor family. Her mother’s bad choices in men were legendary, and they had suffered considerably in childhood as a consequence. They’d been dragged from one bad situation to the next. No wonder they were both wary of giving their hearts, and both fiercely independent.
