Catch My Breath (9 page)

“I’ve never had to rescue my books from a hysterically laughing, stumbling girl before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?”

The window into his soul snapped shut as he regained his calm, impassive demeanor. “I’ve arranged for your flight home, in case you were wondering.”

His switch to all business was a little jarring.

“Which airline?”

“My plane.”

Of course he has a plane. What normal, billionaire CFO in his early thirties doesn’t?
I hated that this was my initial reaction.

“Let’s go for a ride to the hangar. That way you can see for yourself and I’ll introduce you to the flight crew. If the plane looks too dodgy for your liking, we’ll get you set up on a commercial airliner. Alright?”

He sounded so sincere; I’d be remiss to thumb my nose at his kind gesture.

“Sure.”

“Brilliant. I'm going to shower. Wait for me in the living room."

* * *

Our drive out of Glasgow started off benignly enough. I settled into his gray Mercedes SLK55 Roadster comfortably. The interior was gorgeous; black with soft leather seats. Very sporty.

“Have you ever driven a car while in the UK?" He glanced at me out the corner of his eye.

"Nope."

"Would you like to try?"

"Driving? Here? No way."

"Why not?"

"First of all, I can't drive a stick. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for crashing your sexy little car."

Alastair laughed good and loud. "Sexy little car? Never heard it referred to that way before."

“So, do you always fly complete strangers thousands of miles on your private plane?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

“Not generally,” he shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. Do you use it for business travel?”

“Mostly.”

“You never just hop on it and tell the pilot to take you somewhere remote?”

“Hasn’t crossed my mind to do that,” he admitted. “Where would I go?”

“I don’t know. Fiji?”

“You ask too many questions, kitten,” he teased.

“Come on,” I pressed. “You mean to tell me you don’t go anywhere?”

“My life isn’t as glamorous as you may think, Lia.”

I grumbled to myself and got lost in the music for a bit. I knew what was coming. My curiosity was rather insatiable but I had a crazy need to know everything, especially when it came to people in Alastair’s position.
I can blame Nathan for that.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the heir to your grandfather’s company?”

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“You didn’t. But it’s not a small detail.”

“You clearly found out on your own,” he answered stiffly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Up until this point, I’d been enjoying the way he handled the car; fluidly, controlled and confident. Now, he seemed annoyed.

“It just would have been nice if you’d told me yourself.”

“Why does it matter?”

“I have my reasons,” I said, grinding my teeth. “Or don’t you know them already?“

“What are you talking about?” His voice was even and calm, but I could sense he was keeping something from me.

“People in your position often have an insatiable urge to investigate anyone who wants access to their inner circle.“

Getting involved with a high profile person wasn’t for the faint of heart. Not that we were ‘involved.’ My breakup with Nathan was still fresh and the emotional scars hadn’t healed yet.

“I’ve been around this before,” I continued. “You probably sent my name to your security team the day we met.”

The blank expression on his face should have stopped my ramblings. Unfortunately, my insecurities were running wild.

“Lia, you’re being—”

“What?” I interrupted, nearly shrieking. “I’m being paranoid? Ridiculous?” Anxiety hijacked my thought process. All my pent up hostility and hurt bubbled to the surface. “You’re all alike. You guys turn stalking into a recreational sport.”

Heavy silence filled the car. Only the growling drone of the engine made a sound. I sunk my nails into the leather seat, trying like hell to regain some semblance of my dignity.

We didn’t speak for what seemed like ever. A burning lump slowly worked its way up my throat. I swallowed it down, wincing from the discomfort. Why did I have to say all that?

“Sorry,” I whispered. Alastair nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

A young man dressed in a security uniform greeted us at the airport’s security gate.

“Hello, Mr. Holden. Nice to see you again." He leaned down to the window and peered in. Alastair greeted him and the two exchanged pleasantries. The guard pointed to a parking area by the hangar and directed Alastair to leave his car there. "Enjoy your flight, sir."

Apprehension seeped out of my pores. I wanted to kick myself for being such a lunatic with all my ridiculous questions and accusations. Goosebumps rose across my skin as a cool breeze gently blew across the tarmac. I stood next to the car, staring at the hangar. Alastair placed his hand at the small of my back, leading me inside.

Pointed toward the exit was a sleek, white Learjet. Two men were having a conversation by the wing. I blinked and swallowed hard, scanning the plane. It was stunning, like the kind celebrities used when they're jetting off to a premiere in the south of France. On the fuselage written in bold black letters was the name
Holden World Media
.

"Alastair, you don't have to do this. I can fly home on a regular plane. This is completely unnecessary.”

“I promised your friend I’d get you home safely. I’m a man of my word.” He waved someone over. “Kevin, this is Amelia Meyers. She’ll be flying with you tomorrow.”

Kevin smiled politely, extending his hand. I shook it firmly. “Good to see you, Miss Meyers. I understand you live in Orlando? I may schedule a longer layover for myself once we arrive. The beaches must be lovely this time of year.”

I laughed in spite of myself.
Everyone loves the beach.
Alastair and Kevin talked shop for several minutes, so I strolled around the plane. In a word, it was huge. Avoiding coach with screaming kids and cramped spaces was a tempting idea.

“What do you think?” Alastair’s velvety voice cut through the air.

“It’s not that dodgy.” I grinned.

“I’m glad you approve. It’s all yours if you want to use it.”

“I don’t deserve your generosity.”

When I looked into his eyes, they darkened. He grabbed my shoulders and brought our foreheads together. “Jesus Lia, just accept the gift,” he whispered.

I froze. Even after all the bullshit I spouted off in the car, he still wanted to do this for me?

"If I agree to this, I'll be in your debt for, well, probably forever. I can't accept it, Alastair. I just can't."

I glanced at the gleaming white plane and sighed.

“Consider it, then? The crew knows to be ready if they're needed. You don't have to give me an answer now."

At some point, I had to believe that not every guy was a substandard human.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I curled up on the bed, snuggling into the pillows. Alastair was in the kitchen making us some tea. The floor creaked in the hallway as he made his way into the bedroom. The wooden tray he carried held the mugs along with milk, honey and sugar.

"I'm not sure how you take your tea, so I brought in everything."

“It’s fine with just honey." I sat up and criss-crossed my legs.

Alastair squeezed a teaspoonful of honey into one of the mugs. He blew on the steaming drink and handed it to me carefully before sitting on the edge of the bed. We sipped in silence for a few minutes. The atmosphere in the room was heavy. Not uncomfortable, but certainly tinged with a level of uncertainty. A familiar pain began to grow and spread through my chest, suffocating me. For no good reason, my fingertips and toes turned into ice cubes. A distinct crushing sensation prevented any air from getting into my lungs properly.

“Hey,” he whispered, noticing the change. “What’s wrong?”

I sat as stiff as a board, clasping my hands around the mug until the knuckles turned white. Of all the times to have a panic attack, this had to be the worst.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” he admonished, taking the mug. “Your hands are freezing and you’re pale.”

My heart pounded, frantically trying to escape. I couldn’t look at Alastair, not when I was in this state. Only the touch of his skin on mine kept me from going off the deep end. Closing my eyes, I focused on the warmth and softness of his hand on my cheek. It soothed me in a way I never expected.

The mattress jostled as he repositioned himself. Pulling me into his chest, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. I slid my arms around his waist, wanting to stay like this for the rest of the day. I wasn’t even aware that he’d been whispering to me until his breath tickled my ear. Being surrounded by the feel and scent of him tamed my furious heart. I sighed heavily, nuzzling into his shirt.

“Your heartbeat slowed down,” he said, unwrapping me from his embrace. I opened my eyes, stunned to see clear, bright emerald irises focused on me.

“How do you know?”

“I could feel it.” He put my hand on his chest. “Right here. Hammering away like a scared rabbit.”

That little grin could melt the polar ice caps. I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“I’ve made you smile. That’s a good sign.”

“Don’t push your luck, Holden,” I grinned, pushing him back gently.

“Feisty.”

He pressed a small kiss to the corner of my mouth. The gentleness surprised me, making my brain go fuzzy.

“I have to go finish up some work. You can stay here and rest if you want, or roam around the house.”

"Work? On a Sunday? I take it this isn’t one of your free weekends?”

“Not quite as free as last weekend, no. We have some investors coming in tomorrow and I have to do a presentation. It won't take me long, I promise." He gracefully lifted himself off the bed and left the room.

I grabbed my phone and scrolled through a few emails. Nothing from Stephanie yet. It was only quarter past four. She still had another few hours before arriving in Orlando. I decided to do a little exploring, as Alastair suggested. I hadn’t really been able to see the whole house yet, and since he was busy, I could snoop around uninterrupted.

Slipping off the bed, I walked to the hall and through the kitchen. For some reason, I really wanted to see his living room, which I assumed was where he’d spend the majority of his time relaxing.

Plush cream carpets spread from wall to wall. On the far side of the room was a fireplace. Two oversized, charcoal gray couches were set in the center. Neutral tones were prevalent throughout, with subtle, rich accents of color.

It was gorgeous, but lacked the cozy, homey feeling I felt at the cottage. Aside from a large black and white photo of London, there weren’t any personal effects. No photos of friends, no photos of family, and, most notably, no photos of a girlfriend. I leaned against one of the couches, grazing my fingers on the material.
Beautiful, but too perfect.
A person’s home should reflect who they were, inside and out. All I gathered from Alastair’s home were things I already knew about him: pristine, elegant and well put together.
Another mask to hide his true self
.

Sighing, I went back to the bedroom and read a little. Once the sun dipped below the horizon, I couldn’t ignore the hunger pangs gnawing at my stomach.

I crept down the hallway to Alastair's office. The door was wide open. He was leaning back in his chair reading through a folder with his feet propped up on the desk. He looked almost regal as he pinched his lips between his thumb and forefinger. Even in jeans and a sweater, he was the epitome of quiet control and power. It was sexy as hell.

“Hi.”

"Hello." He placed the folder down, waving me in. "Did you have a nice time snooping around?”

“I wouldn’t call it snooping. More like a self-guided tour. Did you get all your work done?”

“More or less.”

Something in his stare made me flush. He looked at me with such longing it unnerved me. I averted my gaze and turned to the cluster of photos hanging on the wall. I was still so drawn to the sad little boy in the leaves.

“What are you doing?” The deceptively calm intonation in Alastair’s voice caught me off guard. When I spun around, a bone-chilling stare greeted me. “These photos aren’t that interesting.”

“They are to me.”

“
Why?
”

“Well, this photo—“

“Forget about the damn photo for now, please.” Alastair’s brows slashed down. His entire body was rigid and unyielding. Mask or not, he suddenly appeared uncomfortable in his skin. Except for his eyes. They were securely shrouded.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Be careful, kitten. You know what they say about curiosity.” He approached with slow, calculating strides. I was his prey, he was my predator. The crazy thing was, deep down, I didn’t mind. I wanted him to pursue me. I wanted to be chased. It was the being caught part that scared me.

There were so many things about him I still didn’t know. Those eyes had a story. They were veiled for a reason. He kept himself just open and friendly enough to lure everyone in. He only let people see what he wanted them to see.

“You’re so deep in thought again.”

Without warning, he grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. Next thing I knew, the wall was at my back and every toned, beautiful inch of him was pressed against me. His kiss was searing and unapologetic. I arched my back, pushing myself into him. A delicious, body-melting tingle coursed through me as he deepened the kiss.

Before I could put my hands on him, he lifted both my arms over my head and held them firmly against the wall. Not being able to touch him drove me insane. I groaned into his mouth and wrapped my leg around him. Alastair tore his lips away from mine and stared at me. He released my arms to slide his hands along my jaw. Adrenaline spiked through me. His animalistic stare was white hot.

“That was unexpected,” I said, panting.