Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
She nods, picks up her clothes, and leaves the bedroom silently.
I’ve hurt her.
I didn’t mean to, but I can’t consider her feelings right now. I’ll make it up to her, and once she gets over this initial shock of leaving in the middle of the night, she will understand.
I quickly dress and make sure I have my passport. I don’t bother packing. I’ll have my people in New York pick up anything I need, and the jet is well supplied if I end up flying to China.
Damn.
Why tonight?
Skye deserved that orgasm. She learned so much tonight.
And I learned a lot as well.
I shake my head to clear it. No more time to dwell on what tonight could have been. I throw a jacket over my shoulders and leave the bedroom—
Skye’s purse and jacket lie on one of my chairs. I grab them and wait for her by the elevator.
Skye descends the stairs from her bedroom, her hair still in disarray.
She looks beautiful, and she deserves so much more than what I can give her tonight.
I hand the purse and jacket to her. “Let’s go. Christopher’s waiting downstairs.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
My jet is pretty damned impressive, complete with a queen-size bed. There it sits, perfectly made up, ready to be messed up.
But no one will be joining the mile-high club tonight. I have too much to do in flight.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Black.” Robin, one of the flight attendants, smiles. “And you too, Ms. Manning.”
I nod. “Thank you, Robin.”
Skye smiles slightly and follows me on board. I lead her to two wide leather seats that make first class on any other airline look like steerage.
I gesture to her, and she takes the seat closer to the window. I sit next to her.
“I have a great crew,” I say. “They see to every need.”
“Is the pilot blond, too?” Skye asks.
She held back the scoff. Nice effort. Now is not the time for petty jealousy. Besides, Robin is married with two children.
“The pilot is a fifty-five-year-old male veteran,” I say matter-of-factly. “Do you want something to drink?”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“It is. That doesn’t mean you can’t be thirsty.”
She sighs. “Just some water.”
I gesture to Robin, who stands next to Dani, the other flight attendant. Not blond. Skye will be happy. Dani is raven-haired with searing dark eyes. They’re both attractive, but I have eyes only for Skye Manning.
“Two bottles of water.”
Robin smiles. “Coming right up.”
Skye rolls her eyes.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“How can they be so chipper at one in the morning?”
“They’re paid very well to be on call at all hours.”
Robin brings Skye a water, and she thanks her and takes a long sip.
“It’s a short flight,” I say, “but once we’re at cruising altitude, you can lie down. Robin and Dani will see to your needs. Try to get some sleep.”
“Maybe,” she replies.
I haven’t meant to be so hard on her. But business…
Damn. Why tonight?
I take her hand and rub my thumb into her palm. “Skye, this isn’t how I planned to spend this night, either.”
“I understand.”
I believe she does understand. She’s just disappointed.
So am I. She has no idea how much.
“I didn’t have time to pack anything,” she says.
I sigh. Right. Her meeting with Eugenie at Susanne Cosmetics on Monday. She’ll need business attire. New York is full of personal shoppers just waiting to have access to my credit line.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll get you anything you need for your meeting on Monday.”
“But the new camera. It’s still at my place, and I wanted to bring it, to take photos of the city.”
“This won’t be our only trip to New York,” I say.
She nods.
This will be far from our only trip to New York.
New York is the home of my club, Black Rose Underground.
Once I introduce Skye to the ultimate in darkness, we’ll come here often.
That’s my plan, anyway. But she’s not ready yet.
I remove my laptop from its case and fire it up.
Skye turns to me. “Braden?”
I don’t look away from my computer. “Yes?”
“Tell me what’s going on with the deal.”
“You wouldn’t be interested.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I weren’t interested.”
“You’re an artist, Skye.”
“Yes. I’m an artist—an artist who’s trying to start her own business. Of course I’m interested in what you do.”
“I don’t have time.”
“We have an hour in the air.”
I sigh. “And you can see I’m online, dealing with this.”
“You don’t have two minutes to explain to me what’s going on?”
“I couldn’t even begin to explain this in two minutes. It’s a complicated contract negotiation with three different distributors in China and Japan. If I can’t work this out in the next twelve hours, I will probably be en route to China. I’d like to avoid that if possible.”
“Why? Don’t you want to see China?”
“Seeing China isn’t the issue. I like to be on my home turf. It’s like having the home-field advantage.”