A soft touch on his hand had his attention returning from staring blankly ahead, where he was mentally beating the fuck out of both men.
“Are you okay?”
Her soft query had him snatching his hand out from under hers.
“You shouldn’t have gotten out of your seat while the plane is climbing,” he snapped.
She tilted her head to the side. “That was twenty minutes ago.”
He jerked his head back to the window, seeing the billowing clouds below.
“Time passes when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” she quipped.
“I don’t consider this fun.”
“I take it you don’t enjoy flying?”
Turning from the window, he glared at her. “I don’t enjoy being locked up, whether I’m in the sky or on the ground.”
For a split second, Reaper regretted being rude to Ginny when her skin paled and her lips trembled as if she didn’t know what to say next. The instinctual drive to keep everyone the fuck away from him had him reacting strongly toward her, even enabling her to sit down next to him without him noticing.
“I’m sorry, then, that I’m the reason you’re here.”
Fuck. Fuck. The hurt tone in her voice sliced through him like quicksilver. I’m not going to talk to her, Reaper told himself, trying to rebuff further conversation, hoping she would give up and return to her seat.
“It’s the last place you want to be, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Damn, his resolve hadn’t lasted three seconds.
The knowledge he had fucked up came when she relaxed back against the seat. Another streak of quicksilver shot through him, this time in a different area of his body, when a hint of her perfume filled his nostrils. Taylor had worn sweet, flowery scents, which he had considered a contraction of her personality. Ginny’s was fresh and clean, as if she had just stepped out of a shower.
The image of Ginny being in the shower naked slammed the brakes on the comparison of the two women.
“Would it help if I called and asked Viper to send someone else when we land?”
“No,” he muttered, relieved he was able to get the word out. At least he was getting better at forming words when she was near.
Congratulating himself, he tried to pretend she wasn’t there and gave rebuffing her a new go-around.
“Then you’re stuck with me.”
Was that a tinge of satisfaction he heard in her voice?
Despite his aloofness, the woman wasn’t exhibiting any irritation or any sympathy that he didn’t want to be on the plane. Ginny was unlike any woman he had ever met. She didn’t shy away from him when he was making it plain he wanted to be left alone. There wasn’t anything flirtatious in her attitude, either; she was being open and friendly without resorting to any feminine tactics to ease the discomfort of the situation. She wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t just to get him to be nicer to her. He was beginning to understand why she had earned the respect of The Last Riders.
“For now.” The new go-around had lasted one second longer than the last one had.
“For now?”
“Until I find the person who’s been stalking you.” Which better be sooner rather than later if she was determined to talk him to death.
“What makes you think you’ll be able to find out who it is after most of the Predators and The Last Riders have tried?”
“Because whoever it is hasn’t dealt with me.”
Chapter Seven
“Gavin, wake up. We’re about to land.”
Jerking awake at the soft voice in his ear, his first reflex at waking up in the unfamiliar place was to bolt to his feet, but a warm hand pressed against his chest prevented the impulse from taking control. Instead, he glanced wildly toward the voice, finding Ginny’s compassionate gaze staring back at him.
“I fell asleep?”
“Yes. You went out like a light. At first, I thought you were ignoring me, but when Kaden came on the intercom to fasten our seatbelts and you didn’t move, I realized you were sleeping.”
He couldn’t believe he fell asleep with so many people around him, especially with Ginny so close. Hell, he couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep so easily anywhere. Usually, it took him hours to doze off, and then only for short bursts of time, which had him feeling as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.
The last thing he remembered was staring out the window, wishing he had never answered Shade’s text the day of the wedding.
“Can I have my hand back? I need to fasten my seatbelt.”
Dumbly, he glanced down, finding her hand held in place against his chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.
Her lips curled in an impish grin. “Anytime.”
Reacting as if he had been shot, he recoiled from her, moving as far away as he could get in his seat. “No, thanks.”
Hurt filled her eyes at his cutting remark.