A sexy CEO...

...takes her to new heights!

Juliana craves intimacy in her lonely job as an airline consultant, and mysterious businessman Law seems the perfect remedy. After a lust-filled encounter at thirty thousand feet, their fling well and truly takes off. She soon discovers Law owns the airline she’s been hired to assess—and he’s fallen for her. Juliana wants passion, not commitment...but could this dashing stranger be more than a flight of fantasy?

CARA LOCKWOOD is the USA TODAY bestselling author of more than eighteen books, including I Do (But I Don’t), which was made into a Lifetime Original movie. She’s written the Bard Academy series for young adults and has had her work translated into several languages around the world. Born and raised in Dallas, Cara now lives near Chicago with her husband and their five children. Find out more about her at caralockwood.com, “friend” her on Facebook, Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood, or follow her on Twitter, @caralockwood.

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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

First Class Sin

Cara Lockwood

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08680-6

FIRST CLASS SIN

© 2019 Cara Lockwood

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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For Peej—my amazing husband.

Thank you for giving me wings.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

THE SEAT BELT LIGHT blinked on in the bathroom of the A380 Airbus, but Juliana failed to notice. The man’s lips had claimed hers, and his hands ran the length of her oversize cashmere sweater tunic, finding her hips beneath the fabric. His big hands felt hot and heavy, and she leaned into them as she caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror above the tiny steel sink. Her dark hair mussed, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated so her normally light brown eyes looked nearly black. The man, so tall, so fit, the muscles in his back and shoulders moved beneath his thin T-shirt as he claimed her neck with his mouth.

Was she going to do this? Was she really going to have sex in the bathroom? A planeful of passengers just on the other side of the thin, plastic door could no doubt hear everything, if they weren’t tucked in to their devices, noise-canceling earphones plugged in, the flicker of their screens in the darkened cabin the only light on the red-eye flight. The man—a complete stranger to her just two hours ago—laid a trail of kisses up the side of her neck. She moaned, unable to help herself as his tongue flicked out, tickling the lobe of her ear, his teeth nibbling there with the slightest hint of pressure. It had been too long since she’d gotten out of her brain, indulged in her body’s demands. She’d forgotten how good this could feel. Her body screamed for this release, burned for it. Juliana had never in her life done this—sex with a stranger? Sex on a plane?

Yet she wanted to feel him deep inside her; she wanted him to fill her in the way only a man could. This was what she wanted: this man, on her terms. She started this, and she was going to finish it.

She realized with a jolt that she didn’t even know this man’s last name, didn’t even know where he lived and yet here she was, kissing the life out of him, feeling him pressed against her in the cramped space, his need for her growing firm against her belly. Yes, this is what she wanted. Right here. Right now. Quick, dirty, practically anonymous. Two animals doing what animals do best. For once in her hectic life, she could switch off her anxious brain, focus on this, on this one thing, the man’s mouth on hers, his body strong, muscled, in front of her.

He broke free of their kiss, panting, and then whirled her around, and hoisted her up on the tiny edge of the bathroom sink as if she weighed nothing, and suddenly she realized how strong he really was, how compact and powerful his muscles must be. She met his blue-eyed gaze and felt desire pool between her legs. She’d wanted him the moment she’d seen him, and now she’d have him. I’m an animal in heat, running on pure instincts, pure need. He found the waistband of her stretchy leggings, pulling them downward to reveal her secret: she wore no underwear.

His hands slinked up her leg, finding her bareness. He grinned, eyebrow risen in a question. Normally, she went commando for comfort, but now she realized he put a different meaning on this altogether. “Well, well,” he murmured, surprised, as his fingers roved deeper, gently caressing the bundle of nerves sitting taut there, sending her heart racing as they slipped across her slick center. “Did you come here ready for this?”

She wanted to tell him she’d never done this before, not ever, but her throat closed up, and she couldn’t manage words. Not here, not with his lips so close to hers. The hard truth was she’d never done anything close to this: sex with a stranger, on an airplane or anywhere public, for that matter. Mile High Club? It was never a membership she’d ever sought, or ever thought she’d gain.

His finger slipped inside her then, and she gasped as he penetrated her, his touch driving her wild as she realized he now understood just how much she wanted him, how wet he’d made her.

“Yes, you came ready,” he murmured and she realized the truth in his statement. She felt like she’d always been ready for this. For him.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She’d never had a man like this—hot, heavy, urgent. The fear of being caught rippling through every moment, the naughtiness of breaking the rules turning every caress into white-hot desire. She’d always been the girl who insisted on dinner first, on a whole host of hurdles a man would have to clear before she’d ever let him even see her underwear. But now, here, on this plane, with this stranger, she was going to give him everything, right here. Right now. No strings. No obligations.

Maybe this was what she needed all along. Dirty, quick sex with a stranger, where she didn’t have to be the prim and proper consultant, the suit-wearing professional she played all day. Here, she could be who she wanted to be: a woman who would take a man where and when she pleased; a woman who was sitting on a bathroom basin counter, legs spread and half-naked, a hard pulse thrumming inside her.

Any minute the flight attendant could knock on the door. Or another passenger. They were doing this here, in a place they could easily get caught. At any time. Yet she felt strangely...free. She felt alive, for the first time in a long time. She was doing something wrong, but it felt so right. This was her choice. And it was delicious.

He worked his fingers inside her and she laid her head back, cracking against the mirror near the sink as she let out a low groan of appreciation, her hips moving in time with his hand. It felt so good. No, scratch that, amazing. He might just make her come right here. She groaned, louder, her need taking over.

Did anyone hear that? she wondered. Was someone, right now, listening against the door? Did she even care?

He inched back in the tight space and she lunged for his fly, eager to free him, eager to do this. He claimed her mouth again and she moaned once more, the rush of need, a tsunami of desire, flooding all her senses. She freed him then, heavy, hard and smooth in her hands. Yes, this was what she wanted. Him, all of him, inside her. To hell with consequences. Because chances were, they’d never meet again. Hell, she didn’t even know his full name and she held him, his most intimate part, in her hands. Impressive, too. Wide. On the north side of average, and oh, so very, very ready for her.

He groaned as she wrapped her hands around him, as she felt the proof of his need. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. She felt giddy suddenly, powerful, as she clutched him in her hands.

This was going to happen. She could barely believe it. She’d only just met this man, a random stranger who’d sat next to her on the emergency exit row, and now she was about to take him inside her, a place only a handful of men had ever gone in her whole life. She glanced at his blue eyes, that sexy, squared-off chin. Yes, she wanted him. So badly. No regrets. Not for this.

He nudged against her, his bulging tip pressing against her most tender of places, the promise of pleasure, of pure animal lust, of precious, sweet release. She’d held the reins so tightly in her life, so taut, and now she’d let go. She’d let everything go, as she clutched his shoulders, her core aching for this, to be filled, to be stretched, to be taken to new heights as this tin bird glided through the clouds, the ground thousands of feet below them.

“You ready?” he asked her, rubbing the tip of him against her once more, sending a wave of urgent want thrumming down her legs to her knees.

“Yes,” she whispered, hoarse, her nails digging into his shoulders. She’d never been more ready in her life.

CHAPTER ONE
Two hours earlier

JULIANA HATED BEING LATE. She jogged through the terminal at JFK Airport, past the dads pushing strollers and the sunburned college kids headed home from spring break and prayed she made it to her gate before they shut the doors. She had to make this flight, the last flight home to Chicago. She promised her sister she’d be there for her birthday dinner tomorrow, but with her never-ending consulting work for the Blue Sky project, she’d been AWOL for weeks, crisscrossing the country to evaluate the nation’s biggest airline. She would’ve been on time, except traffic had been monstrous, even more so than usual around JFK. And then her smart watch dinged with an incoming text. She glanced down at it.

Garrison had texted.

We need to talk.

Juliana groaned. She didn’t have time for her boss right now. He could wait. She rushed through the airport, her trim, rolling carry-on spinning behind her, her dark hair, normally up in a tight bun, begging to spring loose as she bounded through the terminal. If she didn’t make that flight...she’d have to wait a whole day for the next one, and she badly needed that day to write her report—which she couldn’t start until she’d evaluated the airline’s service on this route.

She headed to the gate and saw a worker in a Blue Sky uniform—blue-and-white scarf, and dark navy pantsuit—standing at the gate. Thank goodness!

She arrived, panting, and held out her ticket. “Just...made it,” she said, gasping.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the airline worker said, “but we’re loading standby passengers now, and we’ve already given away your seat.”

“But...the gate is open, and I’ve got my ticket.” Juliana held it up, as if the business class ticket ought to speak for her. “Has the standby passenger boarded yet?”

The airline worker—whose tag read “Bette”—reluctantly looked down at the computer screen in the counter. She typed on the keyboard, clearly out of sorts at having to do a little extra work. “No, not yet.” Her voice sounded clipped, annoyed. This is why you’re in a social media marketing mess, Juliana thought. Where your clients keep saying your philosophy is the customer is always wrong.

“Then please let me on.” She was the paying customer, the original customer, and standby was just that—a person who didn’t have a ticket for this flight but hoped to get one. Mentally, she noted the airline employee’s sullen attitude, her lack of willingness to help. Kicking off paying customers from flights had gotten Blue Sky in trouble in a series of damning viral videos of late, and here was yet another unhelpful employee seeming oblivious to the poor optics of this situation. This would most certainly go into her mergers and acquisitions report to AM Airlines.

“But the standby passenger is airline staff and I’m afraid...”

“Can I help?” The deep baritone of another passenger behind Juliana caused her to jump. She whirled to see a tall, forty-something man with the most amazing clear blue eyes she’d ever seen. He wore dark jeans and a fitted Polo across his broad chest, looking more like the lead in some movie that hadn’t been made yet, than a random passenger on a flight. Juliana usually didn’t register attractiveness, really, when mingling with strangers, but something about the man made him impossible to ignore. She could almost feel his magnetism, a force demanding her full attention, like a Viking marauding on a foreign shore.

“Sir...” The employee’s surly attitude seemed to get worse.

“I’m a standby passenger,” he offered, his deep voice seeming to reverberate in her bones. It felt like pure power. “I’ll give up my seat if that helps.” He handed her his ticket, so she could read his name.

Juliana glanced at the man, surprised. She’d always thought chivalry was dead, especially at airports. It was fend for yourself or die trying, it seemed at gates, on planes and at the baggage claim. The offer took her by surprise. The man looked at Juliana and smiled, a bright-white, dazzling smile. Was he famous? He seemed to have that easy air of someone who’d done well for himself. She noted his Bruno Mali suede loafers. Yes, clearly, his bank account must be full. Still, Juliana hesitated. Did she want this help from a stranger? She was no damsel in distress. She could handle herself. She never asked for help, because doing that was a sign of weakness, and she wasn’t weak.

Another Blue Sky employee glanced up from the nearby counter. “Bette, a word?” she said, calling the employee over. The two women put their heads together and conversed and in seconds, Bette looked ashen. What happened? What had the other employee told her? Was her cover somehow blown? She didn’t think rank and file knew about her being a consultant or about her covert flights to take notes about customer service.

“I am so sorry,” Bette babbled as she returned to her post. “We can get you both on this flight, not a problem.” She glanced at Juliana’s ticket. Bette nodded quickly, typing even faster on her keyboard, her fingers clacking on the keys. The small printer at the counter spit out two new tickets. “I hope you don’t mind new seats. They’re both in coach, but...”

“I don’t mind,” her rescuer quickly said. “Unless you do?”

She glanced at the intriguing man next to her, craning her neck to look at him, he was so tall. Juliana wondered if she’d be able to concentrate on the work at hand with this man sitting next to her. She also wondered if he was a celebrity. If the employees were fawning all over him for a reason she didn’t understand. Then again, maybe it was just that smile, with the hint of mischief.

“No, I don’t mind,” she said.

“So glad to hear it. So sorry, again, for the inconvenience, Ms. Hart,” the employee gushed to Juliana again, apologetic. Maybe someone told them Juliana was there to evaluate their performance. But who? If someone had leaked her route, then all evaluation of the flight would be moot. The whole point was she needed to be anonymous on this flight, just another regular customer. She glanced at the man behind her. “Yes, sorry, let me apologize again.” Bette scanned both tickets and handed them back, eyes lingering longer on her rescuer’s face. No, Juliana thought, this wasn’t about her at all. This was about him. He was the reason she was getting on this flight.

“Not a problem,” he said, waving a hand as he stepped back. His voice carried the vaguest hint of an accent. British? She couldn’t quite tell.

He glanced at Juliana, stretching his hand out to show her she ought to go first. Chivalry, again. Part of her bristled at the prospect. She had always been strong enough to get her own doors and chairs, and yet another part found it oddly...refreshing. She was so used to elbowing her largely male coworkers for space at the conference room table that she’d forgotten what it was like for a man not to be vying to go first.

She rolled her compact carry-on through the open door of the gate as they both walked down the jet bridge. She could feel the heavy weight of the man’s steps behind her in the aluminum hallway with the thin carpet. The man was tall and solid, a wall of muscle, clearly. Who was this man who got things done with a snap of his fingers? A flight attendant greeted them with a curt nod of her head as she read their tickets and directed them upstairs to the two-level airbus, the airplane equivalent of a double-wide trailer, Juliana thought. The big plane was headed to Chicago, but after that, Honolulu. She knew the itinerary by heart, part of her Blue Sky project knowledge. Still, she felt a ripple of unease in her stomach as she boarded the plane. It was nothing, really. She flew all the time and never got nervous, so why did she suddenly feel like the walls of the plane seemed too tight? She gave herself a mental shake. Get it together. She glanced at her ticket and then realized they were at the very back of the plane, last row. Well, that was what they got for being late, she figured. She hoped being so close to the bathroom didn’t turn out to be unpleasant during the long flight.

“Window seat or aisle?” Juliana asked him.

“What would you prefer?” he demurred, cocking his head slightly, clear blue eyes never leaving her face. He gave no hint about whether or not he cared about where he sat. His broad shoulders blocked the aisle as he waited for her answer.

“Window,” Juliana said. “If that’s okay.” She hated when the flight attendants rushed the cart down the aisle. Sometimes they’d hit her laptop or smack her elbow if she wasn’t careful.

“Absolutely.” He smiled, flashing his bright-white, toothpaste-ad smile once more. Wow, but his clear blue eyes looked like the clearest, purest water, almost the ice-blue of a wolf’s. Something about him screamed danger, too, the delicious kind that promised breathless fun, like riding helmetless on the back of a motorcycle. Confidence radiated off his shoulders, and she could tell by the way he carried himself he was put together, worldly, sophisticated. She worked on collapsing the handle of her bag, and Law stepped in.

“Let me help,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument as he whisked her bag up to the overhead compartment as if it weighed less than a pillow. I could’ve gotten that, she wanted to tell him. I’m not helpless. She scooted into the window seat and he took his place at the aisle. Blue Sky was like many other airlines, where coach seating was tight. The space was so close, and Juliana realized she’d be taking note of every slight shift from the man next to her. He’d absolutely be a distraction this flight, as she felt his elbow graze hers on the arm rest.

“Uh, so...” Juliana flashed him a smile as she set about fastening her seat belt to give her hands something to do.

“Call me Law. Short for Lawrence.” Law, as in lawless, she thought. His broad shoulders seemed better suited for leather and steel, rather than the domesticated Polo he wore.

“Law. Nice to meet you. I’m Juliana.”

Law took her hand and shook it. She liked the feel of his palm across hers, big, protective, strong. Made for wielding an ax or sword, not a briefcase. “You...have an accent,” she pointed out. “Are you... British?”

“Australian, actually.” He flashed a perfectly white smile. Now she imagined the Viking wrestling crocodiles. Just when she thought he couldn’t get more masculine, he somehow managed it. Then she mentally shook herself. What was wrong with her? “But I’ve lived in the States since I was twelve, so lost most of the accent. But it creeps in now and again. Usually after a drink or two at dinner.”

She loved how he sounded, how dinner almost became dinnah. It was decidedly faint, though, just the hint. “So, how did you manage that magic trick back there? Do airline employees always fall for your charms?” Juliana meant it to sound flirty, but it almost sounded...envious. Juliana wasn’t the type of woman who usually got what she wanted from charm. She usually got what she wanted by working hard and having all the facts at her disposal, by relentlessly pounding away until her opponents gave in. When she was younger, she’d been a nerdy bookworm, for the most part, an all-honors, all-A student. It didn’t help things that she’d been a late bloomer, not actually growing curves until her sophomore year in college. Until then, she’d been rail-thin.

“Well, I’m a frequent flier,” he explained, thick elbow resting dangerously close to hers on their short armrest.

Juliana swiveled, surprised. “So am I, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that level of service.”

“Yes, but I’ve got eleven million miles, give or take.”

Juliana barely prevented her mouth from dropping open. “Eleven million?” She did a rough calculation in her head. “That means if you traveled fifteen years, you’d need 733,333 miles a year.”

His mouth quirked up in an amused smile. She was relieved he didn’t act surprised, or say, Wow, you’re really good with numbers, like some men who seemed genuinely shocked that a woman could do math in her head.

“Yes, give or take that. I’ve been traveling regularly for twenty years, though, so really it’s just about 550,000 miles a year.”

“Still... That’s...mind-boggling.” Juliana struggled to process the staggering reality. “I thought I travel a lot, and I just hit 200,000 miles last year. What do you do? Are you a pilot?”

He chuckled, voice low. “No, but I wanted to be. I have a special kind of color-blindness. I mix up blues and greens, so I can’t fly.” His stark blue eyes never left hers. It was hard to imagine anything being wrong with them. “I wanted to fly fighter jets but couldn’t, back when I was twenty.” He shrugged one fit shoulder. She got a whiff of his cologne. Something subtle but earthy. She liked it. She found herself leaning in a bit more. “So instead of going to the Air Force Academy, I went to Wharton. And...here I am.”

“So what do you do?”

“What do I do for a living or what am I passionate about?”

Juliana considered this. She knew many folks who might not be so focused on their careers as their passion. She understood that. It wasn’t like consulting was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She’d much rather someday run her own company, call her own shots. That was what she’d like to do. Be the boss.

“What are you passionate about?”

“Charity and innovation.” Law’s eyes grew a brighter shade of blue. This really was his passion. She couldn’t help but be surprised. Something about his take-no-prisoners attitude didn’t seem to fit with a nonprofit. “I just started a charity. It helps encourage entrepreneurs from all over the world. I think we need more innovation, and sometimes big companies can hinder competition.”

“So what does the charity do?”

“We give out grants to small business owners, but from all over the world, whether that’s Uganda or New Jersey.”

“That’s great.”

He grinned, a blinding flash of white. She met his amused stare and found herself forgetting everything she wanted to say. Those eyes. So blue. So amazingly clear. Those firm, muscled arms on display through the thin cotton shirt. Juliana mentally shook herself. What was she doing? Drooling all over the passenger in 34H? Seriously? She wasn’t some teenager crushing all over the new boy in class; she was a professional woman with responsibilities. Besides, he was probably married. Her attention wandered to his left hand. No ring. Not that that meant anything. He could still be attached. Probably was. With that strong chin and accent? No doubt.

Law gently nudged her elbow and all thought of the past fled her mind. His arm was warm and solid and strong. She wondered what it would feel like wrapped around her. “What do you do?”

Juliana swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Focus on something other than his lips, Juliana. Geez.

“Business consultant. Mergers and acquisitions.”

“That can’t be easy.” He looked impressed.

“I don’t like easy. There’s no challenge in it.” She grinned as she delivered her signature line, the thing she said to strangers on planes, in hotels and at conferences. With all her travel, she’d become very good at summarizing her life in a few easy-to-digest lines.

Law chuckled a little. Juliana liked making him laugh. She wanted to do it again. But here was the part of the trip, no doubt, where he’d pull out his book or magazine or e-reader. He’d tuck his nose into his distractions and she’d answer her email on her phone and they’d become strangers again.

Juliana waited for it. After all, a man like this wouldn’t talk to her the whole flight. It just didn’t happen.

Her mother always thought she’d meet someone on her travels, a likely prospect for a husband, or heck, even a boyfriend, but it just didn’t happen. Maybe Juliana was too focused on her work, too eager to pull out her laptop and block everything else out. But she also wanted to tell her mother that it was next to impossible to make real connections with people as she crisscrossed the country, spending her time in tin birds and hotels that all looked the same.

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” Law was still looking at her. He made no move to pull out his phone to check his messages one last time, or reach for the onboard magazine. He still seemed interested. Odd.

“Oh, fun is usually work,” she said. “I like to run 5Ks when I can find a spare Saturday but normally, I’m working. Pretty boring life, I guess.”

Here’s the time he grows bored. Looks away. Finds something else to do. Men always get bored with her, especially good-looking men. She waited. But his attention didn’t waver.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I spend most of my time working, too.”

Juliana’s smart watch dinged. She glanced down and frowned. Garrison again.

When you get back, let’s meet. I want to explain.

She ignored it. Garrison needed to get over himself. She mentally rolled her eyes. Couldn’t the man take a hint?

The flight attendants walked the aisles, shutting overhead compartments. They were getting close to takeoff. Juliana felt her blood pressure rise as sweat broke out on the small of her back. What was going on? She’d spent her entire life as a fearless flier, so what was up with her sudden nerves?

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Juliana didn’t know if it was because she’d researched airline crashes so much during her recent project or what. She sucked in a breath. Stop being silly, she warned herself. This is one of the safest planes in the fleet. Still, her heart thudded harder. Just get through takeoff. She knew most accidents happened during takeoff or landing. More things could go wrong, because the plane was closer to the ground and moving slower... And... Deep breath, she told herself. Take a deep breath. Think of something nice. Like your favorite glass of wine. Like lying on your favorite beach...like...

“Nervous flier?” Law asked, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

“Not usually.” Juliana laughed weakly. What was wrong with her? Was she coming down with something? Food poisoning, maybe? “Actually, never. I don’t know why, but suddenly—” she shrugged “—I just feel a little weird about it.” Light-headed, scared, even. This was so embarrassing...an airline consultant...afraid of flying. She’d spent countless hours on flights this month and didn’t blink an eye. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Maybe it’s the stress. Blue Sky was a tough project, no doubt, but she’d had worse.

Her phone pinged again. Garrison one more time.

You take off yet?

She silenced her phone. No wonder she had a case of the nerves. Garrison wouldn’t leave her alone.

Take the hint, she mentally begged him. Just seriously, take it. Not interested. Never will be. Don’t make me spell it all out. Let’s just pretend none of it happened and move on.

Garrison was a heavyset, barrel-chested married man in his early 50s. Just thinking about Garrison’s stout body made her wince. Garrison might find her attractive, but the feeling was not mutual. And he was married, she reminded herself. He had a wife and two kids in the ’burbs. But then again, it was usually the married men who pursued her. She didn’t know why. Did she give off some kind of vibe that told men she was desperate enough to consider someone already taken? She wasn’t sure, but it happened more than she liked to admit.

She focused on the passenger next to her. She wanted a distraction, badly, and he provided the perfect one. Look at those blue, blue eyes. Yes, something about his face made her think he’d understand her. What was she thinking? This man cared? He was a stranger. And he’d grow bored with her soon enough.

“No reason to be embarrassed. Everybody’s scared of something.” She doubted the Aussie next to her was afraid of anything.

“Thanks. I really don’t know what’s wrong.” She fanned her face and gave herself a mental shake.

Law cocked his head. “Well, you’re flying on the world’s safest airline. Blue Sky has the lowest accident rate of any airline in the world. That’s why...” Law paused. “That’s why I fly so much with them.”

Juliana knew about Blue Sky’s lack of accidents, of course, but hearing it again and from one of the airline’s most frequent customers, made her feel a bit more comfortable as some of the tension left her shoulders. She liked talking to this stranger. It felt oddly freeing somehow.

“I’m glad of that,” she said, and grinned.

The flight attendant announced the plane would be leaving the gate, and just as she clicked off the PA system, the plane rattled to life beneath them, slowly backing out. Juliana saw the ramp agents far below on the ground, walking with orange-capped flashlights, leading the plane away from the jet bridge. She thought about how they would soon be off the ground, and felt more sweat pool between her lower back and shirt. She looked about the cabin for a distraction and saw a woman wearing a “just married” sweatshirt, cuddling up to her new husband. So sickly sweet, so...silly. She frowned at the happy couple. She wondered if that husband would be Garrison in a few years, sending inappropriate texts to his staff member.

Law followed her gaze. “You don’t like newlyweds?”

“I just think love is a waste of time.” She waved her hand, feeling the futility of it all. Garrison was hardly the first man she’d met who believed monogamy applied to other people. When Juliana was just fourteen, her own father ran off with a younger woman. Her mother had spent most of her adult life hammering home the fact that career was more important than family. Families break up, but a good résumé never does, her mom would always say. Her mom had spent fifteen years as a housewife, and when their father ran off with a younger woman, she found herself having to go back to school, learn new skills, as she was woefully underprepared for the workforce.

“You think falling in love is a waste of time?” Now Law looked incredulous.

“It’s a distraction,” Juliana said as the plane rolled out to the runway. She tried not to think about the fact that in a few scant minutes, they’d be airborne. She still didn’t understand why she felt so uneasy out of the blue. She’d flown thousands of times. Why should this time be any different?

“People think it’s this wonderful thing, this great thing, and yet most of the time it doesn’t work out. It causes pain and heartbreak. Who needs it?”

Juliana thought of Garrison. Just one more reason not to waste time running after a happily-ever-after. Save those fairy tales for her three-year-old niece, Evie.

“What about love making the world go around? What about all the songwriters and poets?”

“They’re wrong.” Juliana shrugged. “Give me a glass of wine and a cat. I’ll be fine.”

Law laughed, his eyes, blue like the ocean, crinkling with merriment. “I don’t see you as a crazy cat lady.”

“Oh, I could get into the role. Believe me.” She grinned and he chuckled again.

“Seriously?”

“Why not? I don’t need a man to be happy.”

Law laughed again. “Well, of course not. Usually, we’re more trouble than we’re worth.”

The hint of the Aussie accent hit her ears and felt rich and layered, like a European espresso. Now it was her turn to laugh. She loved a man confident enough to poke fun at himself.

“That’s what my mom always said. She put career first and taught me to do the same.” Juliana was unapologetic about that.

“You don’t want kids?” Law asked.

Juliana shrugged. “I practically raised my younger sister, so I feel like I’ve already had one. Kids, marriage...they’re a waste of time.”

Law’s blond eyebrows arched so high on his face she thought they might leap off. He clearly didn’t agree with her assessment. Well, this was why some of the men in her office secretly called her an ice queen or ballbuster behind her back. It was why many of them kept their distance. She made it perfectly clear she didn’t need a man. Didn’t want one.

“Well, take the emotion out of it, and look at the facts. Half of them end in divorce. More than half of men and almost half of women cheat.” Juliana shrugged and folded her arms across her torso, trying not to look out the plane’s window as they taxied down the runway. Her stomach leaped. They’d take off soon. The plane rumbled down the tarmac, and then, suddenly, took off. She gripped the hand rests, her knuckles turning white. What’s wrong with you?

“What about dating? Relationships, then?” Law asked her. The cabin shook a bit as the plane fought the earth’s gravity. She was suddenly glad for the distraction of his deep voice. “So you don’t want the legal entanglements, then wouldn’t you want...companionship?”

The way he said it implied he might have more than a passing interest in the answer to this question. Law’s elbow grazed hers as his shoulders seemed to take up all the oxygen in the cabin. He shifted his long legs, stretching them out beneath the seat in front of him.

“It’s not my top priority,” Juliana admitted. The shuttering of the cabin finally eased. Thank goodness. She loosened her grip on the armrests. “Men can be needy. And they don’t understand my work schedule.” She shrugged, thinking about the last time she’d tried a relationship. She’d dated the man eight months, but she’d been traveling at least half of that time. She returned after a particularly hard project in California, only to discover he’d put up his profile on dating websites without telling her. When she confronted him with all the Facebook photos she’d found of him hanging with other women, he’d told her it was all her fault. She needed to pay attention to him more, as if he were a toddler in need of supervision. “Even when I do, I don’t have time for needy men. My work comes first. What about you? Do you want to get married?”

“Oh, yes. I definitely want to get married someday,” Law declared. “And have a gaggle of kids. And find my soul mate.”

“Oh, no. You believe in soul mates?” Now Juliana forgot entirely about her unease about being thousands of feet above the ground. “Like one person in a million, just for you, that kind of soul mate?”

“One in four billion, actually,” he said.

Juliana couldn’t believe it. This man, this smart, successful man, believed in the kind of fairy tales usually reserved for children. Did he arrange tea parties for his stuffed animals, too?

“You think there’s just one person. One, for each of us?” The plane rumbled up its ascent, barreling up to cruising altitude. But she was so intent on their conversation, she barely noticed.

Law shrugged. “Maybe.” This man, this reasonable, successful man, was a romantic. Juliana couldn’t believe it. He might as well have told her he believed in unicorns.

He shifted a little and his elbow touched hers. She didn’t move her own arm. She let the contact stand. He shifted again so his whole forearm touched hers. She felt the warm press of his arm against her, every hair on her forearm standing at attention. She might not be a romantic, but she certainly understood physical attraction. That seemed a much more reasonable idea: two people wanting to mate, barely different than animals, really, except that people liked to pretend it was something else. Like romance.

“I think it’s very possible we’re on this planet to find the person who’s made for us,” Law said, sounding like a cheesy Valentine’s Day card.

“Oh, geez. I think that’s a cop-out. It kind of implies you don’t need to do the hard work of getting to know someone. A person just shows up on your doorstep and—bam!—instant love.”

“It might work like that.” Law grinned. “It could be fate. Do you believe in fate?”

“Fate implies we don’t get a say in our own lives.” She shook her head. “I bet you buy a woman flowers on the first date. And insist on paying.” Juliana rolled her eyes. She felt the plane beneath them level out a bit. Cruising altitude almost reached.

“What’s wrong with flowers?” Law asked, puzzled.

“They’re pretty for a half second and then they die,” she said. “A waste of money.”

Law barked a laugh. “Well, then, I’ll make a mental note not to buy you flowers when I pick you up on our first date.” He pretended to scribble on an invisible notepad.

Juliana laughed. “Who said we’re going out?”

“We’re not?” Law challenged, eyes fixed on her. Did he feel the little snaps of electricity running back and forth between them? A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she knew then he definitely felt it. And the way he was looking at her now told her he had no plans to ignore that electric current. “Are you sure about that?”

CHAPTER TWO

LAW KNEW HE was playing with fire. What was he doing, flirting with Juliana Hart? He’d had one goal, and one goal only, to evaluate the independent consultant working for AM Air, trying to figure out if she knew her stuff or if her work could jeopardize the sale of Blue Sky to AM Air next month. Law, the reclusive majority shareholder at Blue Sky, and acting CEO, wanted very badly for that sale to go through. He’d spent nearly fifteen years in the airline business, and he was done. He was ready to focus on his charity, and spend the rest of his forties enjoying life a little, maybe even starting a family. He’d spent his whole adult life up until this point working seventy hours a week, and that had to change.

That all started with the sale of Blue Sky, and the only thing potentially standing in the way was this little independent report, commissioned by the board of AM Air, to prove the merger would be beneficial. That report would be written by this troublemaker sitting in 34G.

She smiled at him, pink lips inviting as they broke to show him the hint of her perfect smile. Nobody told him the woman would be drop-dead gorgeous. That little detail had been left out of all the meetings when his senior VPs had cried into their beers and wrung their hands about the hard-charging consultant who didn’t take no for an answer. She even had a nickname: the ice queen. Distant, hardworking, demanding. He could see why so many of his colleagues were intimidated by her. Though, looking at her now, he couldn’t for the life of him understand why anyone would think she was cold. He’d known she was whip-smart, because she’d run circles around his entire management team. She intrigued him, and he was here to find out more about her.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t ask you out right now.” He couldn’t help himself, actually. Apparently, he liked flirting with danger.

“Because I’d say no.” She grinned, softening the blow.

“Ouch,” he said, splaying his fingers across his chest. “That hurt.” He faked a cough. She’s tough and doesn’t need every man’s approval then, he thought. I like that.

“Come on. I’m sure you get turned down all the time.” Juliana’s smile grew bigger, her light brown eyes teasing. He was so intrigued by her. He suddenly wanted to know everything about her. The nearly three-hour flight seemed too short suddenly. How was he really supposed to get to know her during such a short time?

“Hey! Are you trying to make me feel better...or worse?”

“Worse,” she admitted. He had to laugh. She was surprisingly quick, and she kept him guessing. Few people managed to surprise him, but Juliana did.

Above their heads the seat belt light flicked off. They’d reached cruising altitude. She looked far more relaxed than when they’d begun takeoff. His mission to distract her from the ascending plane had worked, clearly. He’d been worried there for a minute. She’d been wound so tight, he thought she might burst. That little chink in her armor took him by surprise. She was afraid of flying but had taken on the report from AM Air, anyway, knowing that she’d have to crisscross the country on Blue Sky flights for months. He admired her more in that moment. That took nerve.

“Besides, I don’t date random strangers I meet on planes. Especially ones who believe in soul mates.” She rolled her eyes again. He had to laugh at her disdain for all things romantic. Still, what was her beef with true love? He’d never met a woman so insistent that it didn’t exist. It made him want to figure out just why she was not a fan of love. Broken heart in her past, maybe? Or was it a defense mechanism? Lord knew he’d spent a lot of his professional life not wanting any personal entanglements. He thought they got in the way, until he realized one day that he had an entire airline empire but no one to go home to at night. He wanted that now for the first time. But he realized that to get it, he’d need to scale back his work, make room for a woman in his life.

“You are the least romantic woman I’ve ever met,” he managed, not quite keeping the surprise from his voice. He actually didn’t know they existed. The women he’d dated were always clamoring for commitment, to settle down. Maybe that was because they knew how much he was worth, he thought sourly. Juliana didn’t know who he was. As far as she was concerned, he was just another business traveler, a stranger. She didn’t know how many zeroes he had in his bank account. Too many, really, when he thought about it. Growing up middle class, he’d never imagined he’d have this much wealth at his disposal, that he’d own one of the world’s biggest airlines. Yet here he was.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and he admired the slimness of her neck. He loved how quick she was, how smart. He admired that she had strong opinions and stuck to them. He found himself wanting to ask her personal questions: does she have a family? Does she ever want kids? But those questions weren’t the ones he was supposed to ask. He ought to be focusing on her consulting work for AM Air. This is business. Just business. Don’t make it personal.

He doubted Juliana would ever guess she was sitting next to the man who ran the company she was evaluating. Law didn’t like the spotlight, and shunned social media, so few outside Blue Sky even knew what he looked like. He knew it was unfair to keep Juliana in the dark, but he’d been tasked with evaluating how competent she was, and that was what he’d do. He’d never had a problem keeping his professional life separate from his personal one before. He wasn’t about to start now.

Then, out of nowhere, the plane hit a serious and unexpected patch of turbulence. He clutched his armrest as the nose dipped. Without warning, they seemed to fall ten feet and Law felt his stomach leap to his throat.

Whoa, what was that?

Law knew turbulence could pop up unexpectedly but there was barely a cloud in the sky, and weather forecasts had been clear almost all the way to Chicago. His mind instantly clicked into survival mode: assess the danger, form a plan, act. But of course, there was nothing he could do. He was wearing his seat belt, and Juliana had on hers, and someone else was flying this bucket of bolts, and all they could do was wait and hope for the best. He glanced at Juliana, who’d lost all the blood in her face, looking a shade paler than the tray table stowed in front of her. He reached out and clasped her hand. She let him, glancing at him with fear in her eyes. How he wanted to tell her everything would be okay, that she shouldn’t be afraid, but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck told him maybe that was a promise he couldn’t make.

The plane jostled again, one overhead bin flying open and a backpack falling out into the aisle with a hard thud. Gasps and one shout went up from nearby passengers as Law held Juliana’s hand, pulling her arm closer to his, worried that all his bragging about Blue Sky’s accident record might have cursed them. He glanced around the cabin, looking at the panicked faces around them, many with eyes squeezed shut in prayer, and saw he wasn’t the only one who thought this contraption might fall from the sky. Goodness, the irony: Blue Sky President and Majority Shareholder Dies in Own Plane Crash. He was pretty sure all his shares would be worthless after that. Although, who cared if he was dead?

He realized in that moment the stark truth: no one. He had no one to leave his fortune to other than a couple of distant cousins he rarely saw, and his alma mater, the University of Pennsylvania. The Ivy League school would be getting a substantial portion of his estate. If he went down with this plane, he’d be a tiny blip in history, one soon forgotten.

He looked at Juliana, who had pressed her lips into a grim line.

“We’re going to be fine,” he told her, glad he sounded authoritative, and hoped it wasn’t a lie.

The cabin rattled once more, hard, the nose of the plane dipping down. Another round of shocked gasps pierced the air, and this time one high-pitched scream. She squeezed his hand hard, holding on with all her might, her grip surprisingly strong. Not a sound left her clenched jaw, but Law could tell she was using all her strength to keep the panic in check. Law found himself running through all manner of different scenarios—none of them good. He heard the ceiling rattle and prayed the cabin stayed in one piece. Once bits started flying off, the cabin pressure would be done for. He tried to think of ways he could protect Juliana, but he knew if the plane really did go down, his options would be limited.

The plane dipped twice more as the cabin rattled and his armrest vibrated. Now a man shouted from somewhere behind him. Much more of this, and none of the passengers would be able to hold it together. He could feel the pilots struggle to get control of the nose once more. Then, after another harrowing few seconds, the plane righted itself. Sheesh. What the hell had that all been about?

The pilot came on the intercom seconds later. She sounded calm, and completely collected. “Sorry about that, folks. We hit an unexpected patch of turbulence, but we’re all okay now.”

Law made a mental note to find out the pilot’s name and send her his own personal commendation. Not only had she gotten the plane back on track, but she’d made it look easy, too.

Applause rippled through the cabin as collectively everyone let out a sigh of relief. “We’ll be keeping the seat belt sign on for just a little bit to make sure we’re out of it.”

He damn well wasn’t taking his seat belt off this whole flight at this point. He glanced over at Juliana, and he could tell by the look on her face she wouldn’t, either.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, realizing her breathing came in rapid, staccato breaths. She kept a viselike grip on his hand, nearly cutting off his circulation.

“I think so.” Her voice sounded shaky. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her until she stopped shaking. A flight attendant darted down the aisle and grabbed the backpack that had fallen onto the carpeted floor. She grabbed it and tucked it back up into the open overhead bin and then shut the door.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I need a drink.”

Juliana laughed a little, still holding his hand tightly. “Yeah, for sure,” she said. “But now? We’re at the back of coach, and there’s no beverage service.”

“Actually, sitting at the back of the plane is the best place to be,” Law said, sharing a little-known secret. “Flight attendants are more likely to give you special treatment, because the other passengers can’t really see.”

“Really?” Juliana seemed skeptical. No matter, Law would show her. CEO or not, passengers at the back of the plane did get a few perks. The studies at his airlines showed flight attendants were twice as likely to respond to a call button at the back of the plane than the middle. This was part convenience, but also practicality. There only existed so many blankets and extra drinks on a plane. If staff gave them out where everyone could see, there’d be more demand. Besides, if he needed to, he’d pull rank.

“Trust me. What’s your poison?” he asked.

“Wine, normally, but I’d say this deserves a vodka soda,” she murmured, taking a deep breath.

“Coming right up.” He signaled the flight attendant sitting in the jump seat behind them, realizing he knew her. He’d met Sari on her first day a few years ago when she’d accidentally spilled soda on his pants. She’d spent the rest of the flight profusely apologizing and near tears after another flight attendant told her who he was. He’d told her that as long as she treated every customer as if they were the president of the airline, then she’d do just fine.

Her face broke out into a smile when she saw him.

“Law! So nice to see you,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“You and the crew okay? Anyone banged up after that little bit?” he asked, concerned. After all, these were his people and he wanted to make sure they were all right.

Sari shook her head. “We’re fine.” She flashed him a brave smile. Juliana still held his hand and he was almost afraid to move it for fear she’d realize they were still touching. He liked the feel of her hand on his, her long, delicate fingers wrapped around his.

“Good.” He nodded. “Could you do me a huge favor? Would you mind grabbing us two vodka sodas?”

“Right away, sir,” Sari said, not missing a beat as she turned around and disappeared into the plane’s galley.

“How do you do that?” Juliana exclaimed, watching the flight attendant shuffle off. “Normal, non-first-class passengers don’t get to order up drinks whenever they want.”

Law shrugged. “Well, it’s the magic of the back of the plane,” he improvised. Juliana shook her head, clearly still skeptical. “Plus, I’ll admit, Sari owes me a favor,” he said. “She spilled soda all over me on her first day a few years ago.”

“Do you know everyone on this airline?”

“Almost,” he said.

Juliana seemed to realize that she was still clutching his hand, because she glanced down as an “Oh!” escaped her lips. “I’m sorry... I...” She hurriedly withdrew her hand, and his felt cold suddenly, empty. He’d liked comforting her. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Comfort me? I thought I was going to chuck a piss.”

“Chuck a...?”

“Pee my pants,” he added and grinned. Law flashed Juliana a smile and she laughed a little.

“Thanks, but I think I was the one about to panic. I almost thought I was going to hyperventilate there for a minute.”

Sari reappeared almost instantly then with two bubbling plastic cups, tiny slices of lime floating in each one. “Here you go, sir,” she said, handing one to Law and the other to Juliana. Law reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Sari held up a hand in protest.

“No, no. On the house, sir.” She bustled away, leaving Juliana with another perplexed look on her face.

“Apparently, I should make a note always to travel with you,” she joked.

“You’re welcome anytime.” Law realized he meant this. It wasn’t just formality as he held up his plastic glass in a toast. “To not dying.”

“Yet,” Juliana breathed as she touched her cup to his and took a big sip. “We still have...how much time to go?”

“I think one patch of bad luck is probably all we’re allotted this trip,” he said, swallowing the crisp, but potent, vodka down.

“I hope you’re right.” Juliana sounded rueful. She took another long drink, her hand still shaking slightly. He wanted to comfort her but wasn’t sure how. Crack a joke? “I was supposed to do work on this flight.” She nodded toward the laptop stowed under the seat in front of her. “But...”

“Work can wait,” Law said, voice firm. “We almost died. So, work can wait.” He clinked his plastic cup against hers. Before he knew it, they’d both downed their drinks, though it still hadn’t taken an edge off his nerves. Even when the pilot turned off the fasten seat belt sign, he still felt a tad uneasy.

“My life just flashed before my eyes and, I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t like what I saw,” Law admitted.

“Why?”

“All work. No play. Hardly anything real about my life. Find the person I’m supposed to spend my life with,” he said, taking another deep dreg of vodka. That’s why I need to sell Blue Sky. Get on with my life, my real life. Make something real. Preferably with a woman who hates corporate spreadsheets. “Somehow, feels like a wasted life.”

“You think love is the answer?” Her light brown eyes showed skepticism.

“What’s the point of life, if not love? To make real connections with people.” The cabin around them darkened as the pilot dimmed the lights for those wanting to sleep the evening flight away. Juliana glanced around and so did Law. He saw all the people staring at the screens of their small devices, now seemingly back to normal after the plane nearly fell from the sky. It amazed him that something so profound could happen, and then normality snapped back; people acted as if nothing important had happened.

“You know... I...” Juliana shook her head. “I think I need to go to the bathroom. Do you mind?” She nodded toward the aisle. Law stood so she could shuffle by. As she did, he got a whiff of her perfume, something crisp and sweet. Grapefruit, maybe? Whatever it was, he liked it. As she brushed by him, her hip slid by his groin, making all his senses come to life. Down, boy, he told himself. Down. This is business, remember? Not play.

He watched as she slipped into the empty bathroom behind his seat, noticing how her hand shook as she turned the latch. He knew then something was wrong.

Juliana was not okay as she shut the bathroom door behind her and slid the lock into place. Her whole body felt like jelly, like it might melt into a puddle, and she was too addled to even notice this bathroom was extra-roomy, a detail she would have normally jotted down in her head for the future report. She’d never experienced turbulence that bad before and she’d been convinced she was going to die. The stress of it, added to everything else that happened this week, hit her like a falling concrete slab. She’d worked so hard to pretend everything was okay, that she could handle anything life and work threw at her, that she didn’t realize her body was trying to tell her she couldn’t, actually, do it all.

The panic that settled in her throat burst forth now as tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t control the sobs anymore as they racked her small frame. I almost died. This tin bird almost became my coffin. The thought choked her and she was powerless. Juliana felt like she couldn’t breathe. She clawed at the neckline of her tunic, trying to get some air to her collarbone. She prided herself on being in control of her emotions, cool and calm, and now they flooded her like a tidal wave. What would some of her coworkers say about her now? The ice queen has lost it. She cried now and felt like she might keep on crying.

I nearly died. She couldn’t get the horrible thought out of her mind. I nearly died, and the last man to touch me was Garrison. That thought made her sick, suddenly. Because Garrison had touched her without her permission. Without her invitation. It had been entirely on his terms. Everything was always on his terms. Her projects. Her promotions. And now her body? The unfairness of it ripped through her like a blade. The thought made her want to hyperventilate. Suddenly, she felt like she couldn’t get enough air.

Why was she panicking? The plane didn’t fall out of the sky. She’s fine. You’re fine, she silently told herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she swiped at the tears glistening on her cheeks. Garrison is a thousand miles away. Besides, he didn’t rape you. He just grabbed you and tried to kiss you. What’s the big deal?

Yet it had shaken her to her core. She didn’t know why.

Maybe it was she felt so out of control; everything seemed to be spiraling away from her. It was probably just lack of sleep, stress of the Blue Sky project. Maybe Garrison didn’t even have anything to do with it. She’d dealt with men like Garrison before. She could do it again.

Then she heard a soft knock on the door.

“Juliana? It’s me. Law. Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” she sniffed, grabbing a wad of tissues from the bathroom dispenser and crushing them to her face.

“Can I come in?” he offered.

She felt white-hot panic. He’d see her like this—a mess. Her mascara was running down her face; her cheeks were blotchy and red. All she needed now was for the sexy Aussie to see her at her worst.

“Look, you don’t know me. But I know you’re upset. Let me help.”

His voice sounded strangely soothing, even through the door. She bit her lower lip, considering. When would she ever see the man again? Who cared if he saw her crying? The comfort he offered beckoned like the warm beacon of a lighthouse. She carefully slid the lock open. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He opened his arms and she leaned into them, feeling his warm embrace, instantly feeling stronger, better, more whole. This human connection, as much as she wanted to deny it, meant something. She’d spent the past many months without anything more than polite social banter, or work-focused conversation, but nothing deep. Nothing meaningful.

He squeezed her tight, and she felt all the muscles in his chest, his strong arms around her offering the promise of comfort and security. She felt so small in his arms, so protected. Instantly, her tears dried as she hugged him back, thankful for the human contact. This was on her terms. She wanted this: Law’s arms around her. Suddenly, she very much wanted something for herself. Something on her terms. She realized, with a shock, she wanted Law.

Right here. Right now.

Her terms.

Her body screamed for something tangible, for a connection that went beyond just a hug.

She tilted her head up then. He glanced down at her and swiped a tear from her cheek. The gesture was so gentle, so inviting, that she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it. And she wanted...more. Juliana glanced at his lips, full, sensual, and suddenly felt consumed with the idea that she wanted to feel them. Taste them. Know them. She was doing this because she wanted to.

She stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.

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