“And now that you’re a daredevil extraordinaire?”
“There are still plenty of things that scare me.”
“What scares you the most?”
His fingers threaded through the hair at the base of my skull and then tugged, guiding me to look up at him. He looked into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. “You. You scare the shit out of me.”
My heart lurched, instinctively reaching for his. “I’m not scary.”
“No, you’re terrifying. On paper you’re everything I shouldn’t mesh with, but I look at you, touch you, or get my mouth on you, and you’re the only thing I see, the only one I want, and that’s by far the scariest thought I’ve ever had.”
“I’m just me.”
His hand slid until his thumb stroked my cheekbones. “You are everything and don’t even see it. You’re smart, and strong, and so beautiful that you make me ache when I look at you.”
“Don’t say things like that,” I whispered, my brain scrambling to build any wall around my heart while it did its best to reach for Paxton.
“Things like the truth?”
“Things that make me want what I can’t have.”
“You can have me, Leah. I’m yours for the asking.”
There was nothing but honesty in his eyes—and God, I wanted to believe it. I wanted to be his, even if it was only for this moment, and not just physically.
He lifted his chin over my head, tucking me in. “Get some sleep, Firecracker. We have an early flight.”
Despite the overpowering exhaustion I knew was the result of stress, our day, the nightmare, and a spectacular orgasm, I had to know. “What did you wish for?”
He sighed. “For you to give me a second chance.”
My eyebrows puckered, but my limbs felt too heavy to move. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“It’s not for now. It’s for later.”
“That’s not necessary,” I slurred as I drifted off, but just before I was pulled under, I heard the faintest whisper against my forehead.
“It will be.”
Chapter Sixteen
Leah
Istanbul
“First class?” I asked as we took our seats in the front row of the airplane.
“It’s not hard to do when the plane is this small,” Paxton answered, buckling his seat belt as I did the same.
The plane was tiny, with only about sixteen of us on board. “It’s cozy.”
“It’s a sardine can with propellers,” he muttered, looking past me at the window.
“You don’t like flying,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips.
“Not too fond of it,” he answered, cracking his neck. The lines of his tattoos flexed with the movement.
The middle-aged man across the aisle noticed, too, frowning his disapproval.
“How can you, of all people, not like flying?”
“It’s a control thing. I like having it.”
“I noticed,” I said as the flight attendant raised the door and sealed it for takeoff.
He rolled his eyes but didn’t take the bait. Instead, he let out a huge, jaw-cracking yawn. We’d slept in this morning and barely made the flight, but hey, it wasn’t like we could lose luggage we didn’t have. I fingered the beautiful white skinny jeans that must have set him back a fortune to have delivered, especially with the blue silk top I’d found when we woke up this morning. He’d shrugged and said it was only money, but to me it was so much more.
It was the thought he’d put into it, the fact that he’d cared enough to get the right sizes, that he’d bought me pants instead of shorts or a skirt.
What I wouldn’t give for a short, flirty skirt. Something that swirled a little when I turned, that left my legs bare to the sun.
But bare to his eyes, too.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked as we rolled toward the runway, another yawn distorting his last word.
“That you look awfully tired this morning.”
“That’s because you kept me up all night with your demands,” he answered, closing his eyes and leaning back in his seat.
The gentleman across the aisle sputtered in his coffee.
“I most certainly did not,” I fired back in a stage whisper.
He cracked one eyelid as we barreled down the runway. “I’m sorry, was that not you under me last night? Asking me to put my hands on you, begging me to let you come?”
Now the guy was actually coughing, his wife slapping him on the back.
I glared at Paxton. “Seriously?” Not only was it hugely embarrassing to hear him say that, but I wasn’t comfortable with the way it immediately flipped my sex switch to “go for launch.”
He gave me a hot-as-hell grin as his hand worked its way up my thigh. I promptly returned it to his own lap. “Relax,” he whispered in my ear. “We’ll never see these people again.”
“I’m never going to see you again,” I muttered, flipping open the emergency procedures booklet. What I wouldn’t have given for my Kindle.
Paxton’s grip tightened on the armrest between us. I’d never imagined that he wouldn’t like something as simple as flying, but it was oddly endearing to see one tiny flaw in his impenetrable armor. I covered his hand with mine and gave him a reassuring squeeze as we launched into the air.
His breaths were even and steady, but his eyes stayed closed until we finished our climb to altitude. “You okay?” I asked.