Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride / The Executive's Surprise Baby: Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride

He might have bought her participation, but he couldn’t buy her self-respect. And that meant she had to stay out of his bed no matter how easily he’d awoken the passionate hedonist she thought she’d buried years ago. Because when the hedonist came out to play, her common sense went away.

And she refused to be another man’s puppet.

Lauryn stopped dead on the asphalt. “What is that?”

“A Columbia 400, turbo,” Adam said with enough pride in his voice to clamp an iron band around Lauryn’s chest. “My plane. Your ride,” he added, confirming her worst fears.

He covered the last ten yards in quick, long strides and set their luggage down beside a tiny white airplane with a shiny propeller on its nose. His hand dipped into his pocket, reappearing with a set of keys.

She closed her eyes and gulped. This is so not good.

She should have known he wasn’t just taking a different route to Miami International when he headed west of town.

Lauryn’s shaking legs carried her forward at a much slower pace. “Why can’t we fly commercial? You know, big jets with trained pilots, copilots and air hostesses who bring drinks?”

“Too slow.” He shoved his aviator sunglasses into his hair and looked directly into her eyes as if he believed his calm assuredness would be contagious. “I am a trained pilot. I’ve had a license since I turned sixteen. You’ll be safe with me.”

Someone called out to him. Adam turned and walked to meet a guy in a khaki flight suit coming out of one of the hangars.

“I do not have a death wish,” she muttered.

“Neither do I,” he called over his shoulder.

She waited until he finished his conversation and returned. “I’ve never flown in a private plane.”

“Good. I’ll be your first, and I’ll make it good for you.” The gleam in his eyes as he opened a door on the side of the aircraft was purely sexual. Her body responded accordingly, warming, moistening. She shook off the unwanted response.

“My father died in a plane crash.”

Compassion softened Adam’s features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I take good care of my plane and I’ll take care of you.”

She wavered.

“Statistically, you’re less likely to be in an accident in a plane than in a car. Climb in. Sit in the right front seat.”

Her feet stayed planted. “Adam, I get seasick.”

“Seasick and airsick are not the same. Trust me, Lauryn.”

He grabbed her cold hands and carried them to the warmth of his cheeks, sandwiching her icy fingers between his smooth-shaven jaw and his warm palms. And then he leaned in and kissed her. One gentle, coaxing caress of his lips against hers followed another and another until the beginnings of arousal edged the fear from her stiff limbs. She was on the verge of responding, of threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, when he lifted his head.

“Trust me,” he repeated.

She was stuck. He was going to force her to ride in that dinky tin can. Grimacing, she pulled her hands free. “On three conditions. A, if I absolutely hate it you let me fly home on a regular plane. B, no fancy acrobatics. And C, I don’t want to hear anything about the mile-high club. Not one word.”

He grinned. “Deal. Now climb in.”

He handed her into a compartment barely four feet high and wide. There were two leather bucket seats in the cabin and two more up front. She squeezed between the front seats and groaned as she sank into the one on the right. She was surrounded by glass, and she’d be able to see exactly how high they were off the ground. She buckled her seat belt. Tight.

She couldn’t believe her father had flown for a living. Flying hadn’t just been his job, it had been his passion.

Ten minutes later Adam eased his long frame in beside her. She gripped the armrests and watched him prepare for flight. Headset. Buttons. Dozens of them. And the she noticed the twin screens on the dash. One was GPS. She couldn’t identify the other one. The propeller started, vibrating the plane.

He leaned over and pushed a headset over her hair. “Can you hear me now?”

He winked. Her stomach knotted. She closed her eyes.

Minutes passed while Adam communicated with the tower in the take-charge voice he used at work. She occupied herself with mental math. How much interest would a million dollars paid in twenty-four installments net over five years, ten, by retirement age?

The plane moved forward, bouncing gently down the runway before gathering speed and lifting off. She knew the exact second they left the ground. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tightened her grip on the armrests.

Moments later Adam’s hand covered hers. “You can look now.”

She eased open one eye and saw blue sky. She opened the other and risked looking down. Her stomach contents didn’t rush to her throat. If anything, she wanted to see more and leaned closer to the window to do so. She could even identify some of the landmarks.

“The water’s so green.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Same color as your eyes.”

She snapped her head toward him and met his gaze. Forget it. He’s a natural-born charmer. Compliments come as easily to him as breathing. But knowing the truth didn’t lessen the impact of his words. “Thank you.”

“Want to fly over the club and the estate before we head east?”

She considered it, realized she didn’t feel the least bit sick and nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

He didn’t have to be nice. He had her where he wanted her, had her contracted to do exactly as he wished.

But it touched her that he made an effort.

Like a deer trapped in the headlights, Adam couldn’t turn away from the view outside the window.

Mouthwatering curves. Amazing legs.

Cassie said something to Lauryn as the women walked toward the trunk of Cassie’s car and Lauryn looked up at the cottage. Her gaze collided with his and the air dammed in his lungs.

She’s beautiful. How had he missed that?

The raw material had to have been there because there was no way Lauryn could have worked major miracles in the five hours since Cassie had met their plane at the Nassau airport and whisked Lauryn away for an afternoon of shopping and…whatever. Adam had been more than happy to dodge that bullet by picking up the car Garrison, Inc. kept on the island and driving it and their luggage to the house.

Cassie hauled a number of shopping bags from the trunk and passed them to Lauryn. Adam snapped out of his trance and headed for the door. His legs felt rubbery as he jogged down the stairs. He blamed it on the blood drawn at his doctor’s this morning and knew he lied.

He stopped beside the women. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins making him hyperaware of his bride-to-be. Sunlight gleamed off the hair streaming over Lauryn’s shoulders. He’d never seen her hair down, and the urge to test the texture of the champagne-gold strands nearly overwhelmed him.

Thick lashes surrounded her sea-green eyes and a shell-pink gloss coated her lips. The breeze carried her incredible scent.

“Hello again, Adam.”

He heard the smile in Cassie’s voice and forced his stunned gaze from Lauryn to his grinning half sister. She seemed to be enjoying his stupefaction. “Thanks for helping, Cassie.”