“Stay with me, princess,” Max murmured.
She blinked and nodded, but her breathing came in shorter and shorter pants, so Max did the only thing he could to distract her. He leaned over and kissed her.
The edge of the seat dug into his stomach, and he didn’t give a damn. The only thing that mattered was Lucy, and her taste was like a drug. One kiss the other day hadn’t been enough. He’d been craving her ever since.
Now he had her.
He teased her, gliding his tongue across the seam of her lips, then thrusting inside the moment she parted for him. She tasted like coffee and mint, and as his tongue swept through the dark recesses of her mouth, his body burned with want. His goal was to keep her focus on him and not the bumpy ride, but she shot his concentration straight to hell, and all he could think about was more.
He cupped her face in his hand and tilted her head, keeping her in place as he swirled his tongue around and around, drinking her in. She whimpered under his assault, her body softening as she leaned closer, accepting what he offered, kissing him back.
“We’re out of the storm, lovebirds,” Joely called out cheerfully.
Max cursed the pilot under his breath and treated himself to another longer, more thorough taste of Lucy before forcing himself to pull back.
Lucy stared at him, dazed. “You kissed me again.”
“Kept you from panicking,” he said, then, not wanting her to yell at him or set boundaries he’d have every intention of crossing, he changed the subject. “So did you read over the information on Savage in Soho? Damn, I love that name, don’t you?”
“Nice ego.” Her navy eyes flickered in amusement, and her tongue swiped over her lips. Lips damp from his kiss. He shifted in his seat.
“Yes, I’ve read through everything, and I love the tapas concept,” she said, relaxing into her seat. “I still can’t believe you snagged Sebastian Del Toro.”
He was damned proud of the fact that he had. Friendship or not, Sebastian had other choices.
“How’d you manage it?” she asked. “Was it just the friendship?”
“Hell no.” Max folded his arms across his chest. “I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
She rolled her eyes. “You aren’t the Godfather.”
“No, but I offered him all the control he wanted. You see, the one thing I’ve learned is that as long as I can control the business end of things, giving my creative types the illusion of control everywhere else makes them happy. In other words, I get what I want.” He held her gaze for another beat.
She shivered, and he knew she got the meaning behind his words.
“I hear they call him the playboy chef. Any truth to the rumors?” she asked.
Max groaned. She’d just hit on the one drawback to hiring Sebastian. “They’re true. He actually got caught fucking one of the stagehands. The only reason they kept him on the show was because of the great arguments between him and Anthony Abbadon. The ratings were too high, so they gave him a stern warning, and the show went on. Lost his current girlfriend in the process. Not that he treats any woman well enough for them to stick around, but I hear this one was in for the long haul. She made a huge scene and got herself thrown off the lot where they were shooting.” Max shook his head. “Damned eccentric and temperamental chefs,” he muttered. And he ought to know, because he had to work with them.
He glanced out the window just as a stone castle came into view. Rumor had it the owner of the island and resort had imported the building directly from Ireland. With the sun lighting up the sky behind it, the castle presented a beautiful, if imposing, view.
“Feel better?” he asked her.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. “If you’re asking me if your distraction worked, the answer is yes.” Her cheeks flushed pink at the reminder.
Or should he say, turned pinker? Her skin was still as rosy from that kiss as he was hard inside his shorts. “Then take a look outside.”
He pointed to the incredible landscape of the island itself, the sky varying shades of blue, the clouds pure white, no sign of the storm that had frightened her.
“Oh, Max.”
He wanted to hear that sound while his dick was buried deep inside her soft flesh. He shook his head hard to dislodge the visual.
“No matter how many times I come here, the view always captivates me,” she said in awe. “Speaking of, did you know the island is reported to hold magical qualities? Because it’s located near the Bermuda Triangle. Visitors claim their wishes and dreams have been answered here,” Lucy said.
“Come on.” Max cocked an eyebrow. He’d heard mumbo jumbo about the island, but he didn’t believe in magic.
“It’s true,” Joely said, joining the conversation. “People who come here always leave changed in some way.”