An Inconvenient Affair

“There’s a story there.” He toyed with his platinum cuff links.

“There is.” And honest to God, the bay rum scent of him was intoxicating enough.

“But you’re not sharing.”

“Not with a total stranger.” She was an expert at keeping family secrets, of sweeping up the mess so they would look normal to the outside world. Planning high-profile galas for the D.C. elite was a piece of cake after keeping up appearances as a teenager.

She might look like a naive farm girl, but life had already done its fair share to leave her jaded. Which might be why she found herself questioning the ease of her past hour with Troy.

Nothing about him was what she’d expected once he’d first flashed that bad-boy grin in her direction. They’d spent the entire flight just … talking. They’d discussed favorite artists and foods. Found they both liked jazz music and hokey horror movies. He was surprisingly well-read, could quote Shakespeare and had a sharp sense of humor. There was interest in his eyes, but his words stayed light all the way to the start of the plane’s descent.

His eyes narrowed at her silence. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re not hitting on me,” she blurted out.

He blinked in surprise just once before that wicked slow smile spread across his face. “Do you want me to?”

“Actually, I’m having fun just like this.”

She sat back and waited for him to stop grinning when he realized she wasn’t coming on to him. Was she? She never went for this kind of guy, hair too long and a couple of tiny scars on his face like he was always getting into some kind of trouble. A line through one eyebrow. Another on his chin. And yet another on his forehead that played peekaboo when his hair shifted.

But then Barry had been Mr. Buttoned-Up, clean-cut and respectful. Except it had all been a cover for a deceitful nature.

Troy stared deeper into her eyes. “You don’t get to have fun often, do you?”

Who had time for fun? She’d worked hard these past three years building a new life for herself, far away from a gossipy small town that knew her as the daughter of a drunk mother. Barry had tarnished her reputation with his shady dealings—stealing scholarship money for God’s sake. And unless she proved otherwise, people would always think she was involved, as well. They wouldn’t trust her.

Her boss wouldn’t trust her.

She picked at the hem of her skirt. “Why would you say I’m a wet blanket?”

“Not a wet blanket. Just a workaholic. The portfolio under your seat is stuffed with official-looking papers, rather than a book or magazine. The chewed-down nails on your otherwise beautiful hands—sure shout stress.”

She’d tried balancing her career and a relationship. That hadn’t gone very well for her. Thank you very much, Barry, for being a white-collar crook—and not even all that good of an embezzler, given how easily he’d been caught. She’d been so busy with her job that she’d completely missed the signs that he’d been using her to get close to her clients—and sucker them in.

“Troy, I’m simply devoted to my career.” Which would be wrecked if she didn’t make sure everyone knew she was a hundred percent against what Barry had done. Her boss would fire her and no one else would hire her since the clients would never trust her. “Aren’t you?”

What exactly did he do in computers? She was just beginning to realize that they’d talked all about her and not so much about him and the flight was already almost over.

“Work rocks—as do vacations. So if you were taking this plane trip for pleasure, no work worries and you could pick up any connecting flight when we touch down—where would you go?”

“Overseas.” She answered fast before realizing that again, he’d turned the conversation away from himself.

“That’s a broad choice,” he said as the ground grew larger and larger, downtown Chicago coming into focus.

“I would close my eyes and pick, some place far away.” Far, far away from the Windy City gala.

“Ah, the old escape idea. I get that, totally. When I was in boarding school, I made plans for places to live and visit, places without fences.”

Boarding school? Interesting and so far removed from her childhood riding the ancient bus with cracked leather seats each morning with all the friends from her neighborhood.

She settled deeper into her seat. “Isn’t that the whole point of a vacation? To do something that is totally the opposite of your daily routine. Like open spaces being different from the walls of your old boarding school.”

“You have a point.” His smile went tight for a flash before his face cleared. “Where are you from originally—so I can get a sense of your daily routine when I’m choosing our great escape?”

Our? “Theoretically of course.”

“Theoretically? Nu-uh. You’re wrecking the fantasy.”

“Right, sorry about that.” His magnetism had a way of drawing her into this fantasy. No harm in that. “I’m from Vermont, a tiny town nobody’s heard of. Coming to D.C. was a big enough change for me—and now I’m going to Chicago.”

“But you don’t look happy about it.”

She forced herself not to flinch. He was too perceptive. Time to put some distance between them, let him show himself to be a jerk so she could move on. “I’m scared of flying, remember? And this is where you’re supposed to ask me for my phone number.”

“Would you give it to me if I did?”

“No,” she said, almost believing what she was saying. “I’m not in a good place to date anyone right now. So you can stop trying to charm me.”

“Can’t a guy be nice without wanting something other than engaging conversation?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Did you really just say that?”

He slumped back in his seat, respect glinting in his eyes. “Okay, you’re right. I would like to ask for your phone number—because I am single, in case you were wondering—but since you’ve made it clear you’re not open to my advances, I’ll satisfy my broken heart and soothe my wounded ego with the pleasure of your company for a little while longer.”

God, he was good. Funny and charming, so confident he didn’t think twice about making a joke at his own expense. “Do you practice lines like that or are you just really good at improvisation?”

“You’re a smart woman. I’m confident you’ll figure it out.”

She liked him. Damn it. “You’re funny.”

“And you are enchanting. It was my pleasure to sit next to you on the flight.”

They’d landed? She looked around as if waking up from a nap to find more time had passed than she realized. Passengers were sliding from their seats. The aircraft had stopped.

Troy stood, hauling her simple black roll bag from the overhead. “Yours?”

“How did you know?”

He tapped the little dairy cow name tag attached to the handle. “Vermont. Highest cows to people ratio in the country.”

“Right you are.” She stood, stopping beside him. Close beside him. All the other passengers crowded the aisle until her breasts brushed his chest.

His rock-hard chest. That suit covered one hundred percent honed man, whipcord lean. The bay rum scent of him wrapping around her completely now, rather than just teasing—tempting—her senses.

But still, he didn’t touch her or hit on her or act in the least bit skeezy. “Have a great visit in the Windy City.”

She chewed her bottom lip, resisting the overwhelming urge to tug his silk tie.