Emerald Eyes (6 page)

“Lady and Gentlemen, we are about to take off. Our flight time will be approximately three hours and fifteen minutes. Skies are clear, so we should have a smooth flight. We do hope you enjoy your flight.” Mr. Jones’s voice comes out of the speakers above us, giving the usual polite explanation.
 

Simultaneously, we put on our belts and tighten them.

“Turn off your phone.” Mr. Miller commands.
 

I take out my cell and hit the power button. I look up and see him do the same. Once we’re airborne, the flight attendant, Reed, comes out with a tray of food. Reed places two plates in front of us, each covered with a silver dome and places utensils.
 

“Coffee? Tea? Orange juice?” Reed asks.

“Orange juice.” I reply.

“I’ll have one too.”
 

Reed nods at us and leaves. I remove the silver dome and discover a steamy omelet and turkey sausages.
Yummy!
I’m really hungry. Mr. Miller removes his cover, revealing the same combination lying on his plate. Reed returns with our fresh squeezed orange juice. After placing the glasses on the table, Reed takes the silver domes with him as he turns, and disappears into the compact kitchen.
 

“Bon appetite.” I smile.

“Merci beaucoup.” Mr. Miller answers and we dig in.
 

After finishing our breakfast, I decide to learn as much as possible about Mr. Miller, since my background check didn’t find much.

“How did you become a CEO at such a young age? Aren’t you like twenty five?” I ask, even though I know how old he is.
 

Mr. Miller smiles and shakes his head, “No, I’m twenty eight. I took over the company after my father… died in a car accident, two years ago.” Mr. Miller’s voice is pained, it’s clear that he loved his father. His striking face is a smooth mask, but I can see it in eyes, the turmoil of emotions.

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” I whisper sincerely.

“So what were you doing before…?” my voice trails off.
 

“Thank you. I was attending Colombia University and in parallel working under my father; he was my mentor. When the accident happened, I had to step up and fill his seriously large shoes. I left Colombia and took over. I’ve never realized how hard he worked, until the end of my first week as CEO.”

“Wow... that’s impressive. You’re really a hard worker.”

Unlike me who’ve never had to work until now…

“I wouldn’t be where I am now if I would’ve wasted my time lying on my laurels. My father taught me from an early age, a man should provide everything in his power to his family, and he made me realize that my power is limited only if I believe it is.”

Mr. Miller’s words hit home for me.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I try to change the subject.

“No. I’m an only child. It’s just me and my mother now.”
 

Oh no… not another mama’s boy!
 

I’ve had enough of those.
 

“And you?” Mr. Miller asks, yanking me out of my sulking.

“Oh… I’m an only child as well, both parents alive.” As the words leave my mouth, my heart constricts.
 

Poor guy…
I want to lighten the mood, but I don’t know how.

“Where is your mother now?” I’m hoping he’ll say something not so mama-boyish.

“In France.” Mr. Miller’s voice is eerily cold and he doesn’t elaborate.

“So you’re all alone here?” I sound more worried than I intend to.

“Well, not really… you’re here.” Mr. Miller smirks.
 

Oh!
He’s kidding… I humph lightly.

“Yes well, seems very lonely to me.” I look into his eyes, trying to read his reaction.

“What can I say? It is how it is.” He offers a one-shoulder shrug.

“How is it you’re still single? You seem to be an attractive man, very successful. What seems to be the problem?” I hope I’m not being too forward, and then maybe I hope I am.

Mr. Miller’s eyebrows pick up and his eyes widen with amusement, “I seem to be?” a devilish smirk is set of his lips.

I roll my eyes, trying to seem annoyed, while suppressing a smile of my own. He looks delicious.
 

“So you think I’m attractive?” He keeps teasing.

“Well, I’m not blind.” I say as a matter of fact.

Mr. Miller nods, smiling but says nothing.
 

What?
Usually, ‘and you’re pretty hot too’ follows in a heartbeat.
 

Maybe he’s gay?
 

But how could he be, if I saw Barbie-want-to-be plant a smooch on his lips?
 

Maybe Mr. Miller doesn’t find
me
attractive?
 

The thought sends an icy chill down my spine.
 

Impossible!
 

I attract men like flowers attract bees. Or maybe he’s the exception? Mr. Miller does seem to have this type of resistance for me. The thought hurts me more than I expected. I turn my focus on the window, looking at the fluffy clouds and pale blue sky. I tell myself to stop brooding and set a new goal, making Mr. Miller beg for me. I will work on how to mix business with pleasure. And oh… How pleasurable it will be. Just imagining him in my sex fantasies, heats my blood with desire.

We land in Miami International right on schedule. We head out to our ride, a black Audi Q7 that awaits us. We climb in the back and a moment later, the car atmosphere changes as guitar strings that are followed by piano keys and a tantalizing beat, flow out of the sound system inside the car.
 

I know this song… Maroon 5?
 

I shift slightly and look at Mr. Miller, who’s watching me intently.
 

Secret!
That’s the song!
 

Funny, the lyrics describe my situation pretty accurately. I don’t know him that well, and I do want him.
Real bad.
This mysterious man is confusing me each step of the way. My mind is picking on the petals of an imaginary rose.
 

He wants me… he wants me not…
 

We look at each other from time to time. The sexual tension between us intensifies with each passing second, so powerful it’s tangible. When the song ends, Mr. Miller reaches for his phone. Must’ve turned it on after we landed. I turn mine on and call Laura, letting her know I’ve arrived safely.
 

“It’s all there? Great… thank you Marcus.” Mr. Miller hangs up.

“I notice you don’t have a suitcase… we are here for five days and I doubt you’ll be wearing the same suit everyday.” I look at him, waiting for an answer.
“My tailor.” Mr. Miller holds up his Blackberry.
 

“I don’t like to travel with clothes. So I just get new ones wherever I go. Marcus never fails.” He winks at me
.
 

“Oh…” I manage to say.
 

I’m baffled, not because he’s buying new clothes every time he flies somewhere, but by this reaction I’m having for him. Mr. Miller really affects me, bewildering me with his hot then cold responses.
 

I’ve never had this type of uncertainty. I always knew how to read men, but he’s not like any of the men I know. He’s almost untouchable. I force myself to look out the window, since I’m just sitting here and blatantly staring at him.

Though I do enjoy his captivating appearance.
 
 

Minutes later we reach our destination, The Hilton Bentley Hotel. I walk inside, ahead of Mr. Miller to check us in.

“Good morning, welcome to the Hilton Bentley Hotel.” Says -
I glimpse at the nametag on her blazer
- Sue
.
 

Sue is tan, with caramel hair, bright blue eyes and her friendly smile is stretched from ear to ear.
 

“Good morning, checking in, I reserved the president suite. It’s under Miss Slav.”

I changed the name on the reservation to my own yesterday, when I was double-checking that everything was in order.

She looks at the screen to her right and finds the reservation. She asks for my driver’s license and confirms everything is accurate.

“There you go.”
 

Sue hands me two electronic keys with my driver’s license, smiling brightly at me. Suddenly her eyes widen, looking behind me. Her reaction is so sharp it startles me. I turn around and find the cause of her astonishment. It’s Mr. Miller. He’s walking towards me with long, lithe strides. Turning heads as he approaches me. I take a moment and look him over from head-to-toe and then back up again, catching his lickable lips quirk up. I smirk and hand him one of the electronic keys.
 

“Yours.” my voice is holding a different meaning to the word.
 

When Mr. Miller takes the card key, the tips of our fingers touch and he takes a deep breath. Feeling that surge of electricity, I force myself to look away and remind myself I’m standing in a busy hotel lobby. I notice the bellboy with my suitcase and follow him until we’re inside the suite. I’m acutely aware of the powerful man that is walking behind me, each step brings Mr. Miller closer and closer to me, or maybe it’s my imagination.

The suite is beautiful. I’ve been in some extravagant hotels, including this one, but never really thought of getting the president suite. The walls are white and brighten the room, making it feel more spacious than it already is. The windows are all floor to ceiling, allowing the sunlight shine into the room. The living area is furnished with a light sand couch, facing the windows and glass coffee table. As we move further into the suite, I see the dining room, a glass dining table and six white chairs positioned around it, and a big vase with beautiful white, pink and yellow flowers in the center.

I follow the bellboy and discover the king bedrooms. Their doors are facing the one another. I step into one of them and look around, taking the luxurious space in. The bed catches my eyes first, is massive, dominating the room. On the other end of the room is a large couch with decorative pillows. The lavish room extends into a breathtaking oceanfront terrace with two comfy lounge chairs.
 

I tip the bellboy and he leaves me to explore some more. I open a door, finding the walk-in closet. I’ll unpack once I’m done investigating this amazing space. I open another door and find an all-marble bathroom, with a Jacuzzi bathtub and a separate shower; I will be enjoying
that
later. I leave my bedroom and continue my exploration. I find a staircase leading upstairs, to a rooftop terrace with a Jacuzzi pool, overlooking the gorgeous view on South Beach.
 

Can’t wait to use this one… maybe skinny dip with Mr. Miller.
 

I smile at my wicked thought.
 

Definitely booking this room next time I’m here with the girls.
 

I take a deep breath, indulging in the feeling of the light breeze caressing my skin and the breathtaking view that is before me. A beat later I remember I’m not here of vacation, so I head back to my room, literally walking into Mr. Miller.

“Whoa… careful there.” Mr. Miller grips my arms as I sway backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you… thanks for catching me.”
 

“My pleasure. It’s ten oh five right now. We need to leave in forty minutes.”

“Ok, I’ll just unpack quickly and shower.”
 

I sound innocent enough, even though my thoughts are quite the opposite. Mr. Miller’s eyes darken momentarily, as if he is sensing the naughty fantasies that are passing through my mind. He closes his eyes for a short moment and when they open, they are cool and calm.
 

Ugh!
I can’t get a break with this guy! I puff inwardly.
 

Nodding, Mr. Miller releases me and I go back to my room. After I unpacked everything, I pick a dark burgundy sheath dress with a generous square cleavage and lay it on the bed. I hop into the shower and after fifteen minutes I am ready. I’ve refreshed my make up, adding a coat of mascara. I’ve brushed my hair, braid it then twist it into a high bun. I grab my iPad and head to the living area. Mr. Miller is sitting on the couch, waiting for me. His eyes scan my body once he sees me, slowing their journey on the swell of my breasts. I look at my watch hastily, its ten forty on the dot.
 

Phew!
Made it.
 

Mr. Miller showered as well, and now he’s wearing a dark grey suit with a white shirt and a black tie. His hair is groomed, but a few strands fall on his forehead.
 

That is really sexy…
 

“Just in time. I started to get worried.” Mr. Miller’s eyes light with amusement.

“Worried about me? I’m flattered.” I bat my lashes and he smirks.

“Let’s go, I don’t do late.” Mr. Miller stands up, and hands me a folder.

Our meeting is held in one of the large conference rooms in the hotel. We settle into the chairs, around a big mahogany table and prepare for the meeting. I prop my iPad in front of me and place the folder next to it. The door opens and three businessmen walk in. The man that’s walking in front of the other two looks like he’s in his fifties. His hair’s white but full. His brown eyes are warm and wise. The other two men are much younger, probably in their early thirties, middle twenties. Mr. Miller rises to his feet and I quickly follow.

“Mr. Green.” Mr. Miller says.

“Miller. Good to see you, son.” Mr. Green smiles as he shakes Mr. Millers hand, then he turns to me.
 

“This is Miss Slav, my executive assistant.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Slav.” Mr. Green smiles.

“Likewise, Mr. Green.” I smile politely.

“My son, Patrick.” Mr. Green puts his hand on the man who’s probably in his thirties.
 

Patrick is tall, masculine and handsome. His brown eyes shine when holds out his hand to me.