Concern creased his eyes as he watched her. Bless him for being so discreet as he pulled the puke bag onto his lap and casually opened it. She’d never forgive herself if she threw up on his plane. Jet. In her head, she laughed. Seriously, who owned a jet?
He held her hand and swirled gentle patterns over the top, soothing her and slightly calming her. A cool sweat coated her face, and she was glad she hadn’t wasted time on too much makeup.
When the light finally went off, he unfastened his seatbelt. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded tightly. Her clothing was melting into her skin. She shimmied out of her coat and tossed it to the seat behind her. No way was she undoing her seatbelt.
Gage returned with a small package. He tore it open with his teeth. “Here, take this.”
She eyed the suspicious pill as he set it in her hand. “Roofie?”
“Hardly. But it will make you a little less inhibited. You have my word I won’t do more than kiss you tonight. Take it. It’ll help you relax.”
She actually considered not taking it and suffering through the flight, not liking the idea of a date ending at first base. There was a slight shudder, so she popped the pill in her mouth and swallowed.
Gage handed her a glass of champagne. “Something to chase it down.”
She gratefully sipped. “Do you always drug your dates?”
“Only when I’m worried they might puke on me.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I should have asked if you liked flying.”
“I do. But my body doesn’t. If I had my way, I’d fly all over the world. Instead, I’m stuck in Jasper Falls and wherever else I can drive.”
He grinned. “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”
“How much gas do you got?”
He chuckled. “Seriously.”
Thankfully, the pill was already taking effect, and she cozied into her chair. “Oh, I don’t know. There are purple springs in Scotland I’d like to see. And one day, I’d like to visit an island where the ocean’s as blue as the sky. I want to see the pyramids and the Eiffel tower, and I’d love to live in Rome for a while, just to experience the culture and learn the language.”
“Do you speak Italian?”
“Not at all. But I think if you live anywhere long enough, you learn.” Her stomach settled and she was no longer sweating under her clothes. “How about you? Where would you like to go?”
“I don’t think it matters where a person goes as much as it matters the company they keep.”
Her lips parted. “You’re pretty romantic, Mr. King.”
The side of his mouth kicked up. “I can afford to be. But most days it’s a wasted talent.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Something guarded flashed in his eyes. “Romance only works when it’s sincere. Sincerity is a two-way street in relationships. You got more excited over a ninety-nine cent bandana than some women have gotten over diamonds. Sometimes people only measure gestures by what others will see.”
Her fingers went to the bandana in her hair and she smiled. “Well, for what it’s worth, I love it. You were totally sweet to get it for me.”
“And it looks totally sweet on you.” His thumb brushed the side of her face. “Still feeling sick?”
“No, I actually feel really good—”
He cut off her words with a kiss, and she moaned into his mouth, her fingers combing through his thick hair. His hands did the same, threading through her hair until the bandana came loose and he was groping her back, sliding his firm palms down to her ass.
The click of her seatbelt hardly registered as he pulled her onto his lap. She straddled his thighs, and he groaned into her mouth, deepening the kiss.
“Can we get in trouble for this?” she whispered.
He chuckled. “From who? I’m the boss.”
“Oh. Right.” She kissed him again. “Well, in that case…” She reached for his hand and moved it to her breast. “Let a sister help you out.”
His hand tightened over the swell as he hit a button, lifting the arm of his seat and rolling her to her back. Cushioned by the soft leather, she wreathed her arms around his shoulders and drew him down to her for another kiss. His lips were intoxicating, and his mouth tasted of secrets and sin.
His weight settled over her, his hand massaging her curves through her fitted shirt as he slowly explored. The press of his arousal teased her through too many layers of clothes. God, she missed this. How serious was he really about not doing more than kissing? She already got his hand on her boob. Maybe she could get a little more.
Flipping open the button at the top of her jeans—
“No.” Breathing hard, he caught her hand. “We can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“But…”
His forehead pressed to her shoulder. “I gave you my word. That means something to me.” His weight lifted and he helped her sit up.