Dirty Little Promise (Forbidden Desires #2)

Gavin

I stood motionless at the airstrip beside my Mercedes, trying to practice patience and failing miserably. It wasn’t a strong suit of mine, never had been and probably never would be. Checking my wristwatch again, I blew out a slow breath. Emma was late.

The aircraft attendant emerged from the hangar, looking annoyed. Despite the cool temperatures, sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip. “Mr. Kingsley, I’m sorry but we need to get moving. We’ve delayed the takeoff as long as we can.”

I nodded. “One more minute. If she doesn’t show, we’ll go.”

He gave me a curt nod and scurried off again.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Where the fuck are they?

I tried calling Ben once more, only to get his voicemail. Again.

Just as I was about to call it and head to the jet, a black limousine turned onto the tarmac, rolling to a stop a few feet from where I stood. Ben hopped out, his expression sheepish as he rushed to open Emma’s door.

When she stepped out, I saw nothing but her. The deafening hum of the plane’s engine, the sun’s bright rays, the stench of jet fuel—all of it ceased to exist. All I could see was five and a half feet of the most mouthwatering curves dressed casually in a pair of skintight jeans and a silk top.

My cock gave a twitch, eager to say hello.

Not now.

Maybe not ever again, but she was here, wasn’t she? That had to mean something. But it was the sassy little smirk painted across her pink lips that almost undid me.

“You didn’t think I’d show, did you?” Emma lifted her chin as she strode past me toward the jet.

She might have thought she had the upper hand, but little did she know I wasn’t letting her go without a fight.

“I’m here for answers, nothing more,” she said as she handed her overnight bag to the attendant and navigated the steps carefully in a pair of high-heeled boots.

As she climbed the stairs, I watched her ass sway enticingly and had to remind myself that it wasn’t right to imagine what color her tiny panties were. It also wasn’t smart to focus on how good it felt just to be around her again.

No, right now, Emma and I were all business until we cleared the air, until things were right again. And if she caught me staring, it would only put her further on the defensive.

With a deep breath, I followed her onto the plane and took a seat in the cushioned chair opposite a table, thinking it best to have something sturdy between us. She followed my lead, sitting opposite me as the crew of three followed us onboard and stowed our belongings.

For a long moment, we said nothing until the attendant approached to ask if we’d like lunch after takeoff. I said yes and suggested she bring a bottle of wine. Maybe that would ease the tension between Emma and me.

Again, Emma said nothing. She merely crossed her arms over her chest and stared as the door closed and everyone took their places, leaving us to the frosty silence.

“Well,” I said, clearing my throat.

“You said you were going to talk. So, talk.” She motioned to me, her eyebrows raised.

I tilted my head, studying her.

There was a new air about her now. I’d seen her angry, confused, upset, and elated, but never like this. This hard woman was new. Cold. Calculating.

And, unfortunately for me, I oddly found that I liked her almost as much as all the other Emmas I’d met. It took effort to hold back my smile at her domineering tone—like a kitten trying to lead a pride of lions—but I managed, reminding myself again that this was business now, not pleasure.

“I fell for a dangerous man once before, you know,” she said. “I’m not going to do that again.”

My stomach roiled at the mention of her abusive ex. To be compared to him that way . . .

I let out a hiss and shook my head. Suddenly, any urge I’d had to laugh before was gone. “I’m not a dangerous man. Impulsive, yes. And controlling.”

“Demanding,” she added.

I nodded. “That too. And jealous. But not dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes and let out a snort of disgust. “You? Jealous? Yeah, right. You practically pushed me into your brother’s arms.”

“And it killed me every time I had to do it,” I said, balling my hands into fists at the idea of Emma in my brother’s embrace. “But yes, I pushed you to him. It’s true.”

“It killed you?” Emma’s pretty pink lips pulled into a frown.

“Every time you went to him, it was like a piece of my soul was being torn away from me,” I confessed, meeting her gaze, hoping she could understand.

But, try as I might, she stayed exactly the same. Hard and focused.

“We’re not here to talk about Cooper. We’re here to talk about Ashley. So, tell me about her and don’t leave anything out.”

“I’ll tell you everything,” I said. “I promise. But first, I have to know. Did anything happen between you and Cooper?”

“I said—”

“I know what you said. But if I need to focus on telling you everything, then my mind needs to be clear, and that can’t happen if I’m wondering whether . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. The thought alone was too much to bear. Of Emma laid out, naked and panting for a man who wasn’t me. For my own fucking brother.

“That’s your biggest concern right now?” Her tone dripped with disgust, but I forced myself to look her in the eye again.

“Yes. And maybe that makes me a bastard, but there it is.” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw and shook my head helplessly. “Emma, Cooper is in love with you, and frankly, he’s the better choice for you. I know that. He doesn’t have a mountain of skeletons in his closet the way I do.”

“He’s my friend,” she said, her eyes narrowed.

“He wants to be more than that.”

“That may be, but more than that has never happened,” she said. “Not really. I already told you everything, and I was truthful. We kissed, and I took a bath in his tub. End of story.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, though I wished again for that bottle of wine. I felt like I was in the middle of a hostage negotiation. Now that Cooper was out of the way, Emma and I had to focus on the reason she’d truly agreed to meet with me, and this road was never an easy one for me to go down.

Just as I looked around for the attendant, however, I spotted her rolling the cart down the aisle. “Good, our food.”

Emma remained silent as the woman placed two plates in front of us, two glasses, and an uncorked bottle of white wine.

“Enjoy,” she said, then rolled the cart away again as I poured each of us a glass.

“I’m not interested in drinking in the middle of the day.” Emma eyed her glass warily, then did the same to mine.

“I find that difficult conversations tend to be a little easier with distractions.”

“So, this is going to be a difficult conversation?” She raised her eyebrows.

“For me, at least,” I admitted.

We hadn’t even begun the conversation, and already Emma was seeing a different side to me, one I didn’t show very often. It wasn’t easy for me to let my guard down, to show weakness, but Emma always had a way about clawing her way beneath my hard outer shell.

She considered this, then pushed her plate away. “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” I said. “You need to eat.”

“I don’t like ahi tuna salad,” she said, glaring at the plate.

“Have you had it before?”

“I don’t eat raw fish.”

“Right.” I cleared my throat. “It’s seared, so not totally raw. Try it.”

“No.” She met my gaze, a gleam of defiance in her eyes.

“Then I’ll ask if they can bring you something else,” I said between gritted teeth.

“We’re ten thousand feet in the air. Where do you think they’re going to find something else?”

Letting out a deep breath, I reminded myself to stay calm. “Fine, then we’ll land the damn plane and find a Taco Bell.”

She pursed her lips. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”