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This summer
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, welcome to our premiere service between Los Angeles and New York. While we’re preparing for take-off, your flight attendants will be serving beverages. Our scheduled departure of 9:30 p.m. has been pushed back twenty minutes, but the captain assures us that we will be arriving in New York right on time.”
The bell dinged and Lily pinched her eyes shut, her white-knuckled hands clutching at the arms of her seat. This was the part she always hated, the waiting, the time between the moment she strapped herself in and the moment the jet lifted off the ground.
Though she’d nearly conquered her aversion to flying about a year ago, her trip to Paris with Miranda had renewed every fear and then doubled it. They’d lost an engine somewhere over the Atlantic and had been forced to make an emergency landing in Ireland. Lily had refused to get back on the plane and had taken a combination of boats and trains to Paris. When it came time to go home, she’d returned home the same way—the QE II across the Atlantic followed by a cross-country train trip. Since then, she’d refused to get on a plane.
She glanced down at the self-help book that lay open on her tray table. She’d read six books in the past two months, seen a psychologist and a psychiatrist and attended two seminars that guaranteed success in conquering a fear of flying.
“Airline travel is the safest mode of travel,” she murmured to herself, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Yeah, right. That would make her feel so much better when plummeting from twenty thousand feet.
Had Lily been given a choice, she might have taken the train to New York. But Miranda had insisted that her fears were unfounded. She just needed to get back on the horse—which would have been a reasonable alternative in Lily’s mind. L.A. to New York via wagon train. When was the last time anyone died in a fiery wagon train crash?
In the end, Lily was forced to agree. Her fears were childish and she needed to conquer them before they completely paralyzed her. But that didn’t mean she’d be unprepared for disaster. She grabbed the emergency card from the pocket in front of her and tried to focus on the information. Why didn’t they just give everyone a parachute? Then if anything bad happened, they could all jump.
She waved one of the flight attendants over to her seat. “I think I’m going to need something to drink after all. If it’s not too late.”
“We’re still waiting for a few first-class passengers to board. What can I get you?”
“Vodka,” Lily said. “Two of those little bottles in a glass of ice with just a splash of cranberry juice.” Lily forced a smile and sat back in her seat. This was all her fault. She’d made a vow a year ago to move out of Miranda’s house and make a life of her own. But the time had never been right.
Miranda had always been in the middle of some crisis or another. Now her godmother was three months late on a deadline and had convinced herself the only place she could possibly finish the book was her summer house in the Hamptons. So Lily had been ordered to go on ahead and open the place.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small photo album. She’d made the album in a pteromerhanophobia workshop she’d taken last month. The participants had been asked to select photos representing all the things they wanted to do in the future. During a plane trip, they were supposed to find a photo and focus on it.
Lily flipped through the album. There was a picture of the Great Wall of China, her ultimate travel destination. And another of a cute little dog—she’d always wanted a dog, but Miranda was allergic. And there was a photo of a model in a sexy bathing suit. Someday, she’d lose twenty pounds and look just like that.
Lily paused, her gaze falling on the photo of Aidan Pierce she’d cut out of Premiere. Someday she’d find a man who made her heart flutter as much as he had. Since seeing him from across the airport lounge a year ago, Lily had followed his career in the magazines. She’d bought all his movies on DVD and read everything she could find about his social and professional life. And occasionally, she’d allow herself a fantasy or two about what it might be like to have a man like Aidan in her bed.
The flight attendant returned with Lily’s drink and set it in front of her, placing the tumbler on top of a napkin. “I’ll have to collect that before we take off.”
A man passed behind the attendant and she smiled as he bumped against her with his bag. Lily took a sip of her vodka and watched as the passenger searched for an empty overhead bin. He turned and she caught sight of his profile.
She sucked in a sharp breath and the vodka went down wrong, causing a fit of coughing. Gasping for breath, Lily slumped down in her seat and covered her mouth with the napkin.
The flight attendant bent closer. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Lily waved her hand, tears now streaming down her face. Of all the possible people to walk onto her flight, why did it have to be him? She risked a glance up and found Aidan Pierce watching her, an odd look on his face. He glanced at his boarding pass, then looked directly at the numbers above her head.
“No,” she said in a silent plea. Not the seat next to her. There were plenty of other places for him to sit. He couldn’t possibly be sitting next to her, could he? He showed his boarding pass to the flight attendant and she stepped aside, pointing to the seat next to Lily’s.
Lily turned to stare out the window, desperately willing herself to calm down and act like a normal human being. But when she turned back around, she came face-to-face with Aidan’s crotch as he reached up to put his bag in the overhead compartment.
His cotton shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom, offering her a view of his belly. Her eyes drifted from the line of hair above his waistband to the bulge in his cargo pants and then back up again. Lily quickly turned away, fixing her attention out the window again.
Suddenly, dying in a mass of twisted steel and burning jet fuel seemed to be an acceptable alternative to flying all the way to New York next to Aidan Pierce. He plopped down beside her. They were so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell the scent of his cologne. She wanted to reach out for her drink, but she was afraid her hand might be trembling too much to pick up the glass.
“It’s nice to have you with us again, Mr. Pierce. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ll have a beer,” he said.
Oh God. He didn’t sound the way he was supposed to sound. She hadn’t met him that day at the airport, but she’d watched him interviewed on E! and he always seemed so aloof, his voice so careful and measured, kind of self-absorbed. Now, he sounded like a nice guy.
Lily clutched her fingers together in her lap and realized her photo book was still open. She snapped it shut, then dropped it into her tote bag. How long could she possibly sit here without speaking? Sooner or later, someone would have to say something. They couldn’t ignore each other for the entire six-hour flight.
“Relax. Nothing is going to happen.”
Lily shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave him a feeble smile. “I-I’m not scared.”
He chuckled and then pointed to the book still resting on her tray table. “The Pteromerhanophobic Traveler,” he murmured. “Quite a title. Catchy. I’d assume by the little cartoon of the smiling airplane that the book is about people who can’t get enough of flying?”
For a moment she relaxed enough to really look at him—his shaggy dark hair and his sculpted mouth, pale blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. In comparison to the buttoned-down business attire most men in first class wore, his lived-in clothes made him look dangerous.
A shiver skittered down her spine. Lily had read thousands of romantic descriptions of male beauty, from Jane Austen to Joan Collins, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall one that did this man justice. He was, for all intents and purposes, perfect.
“I-I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You’re right. I’m not a very good flyer.” But her tension had nothing at all to do with her fear of flying. She’d never been good with extremely handsome men. They always made her feel…clumsy and inept. And handsome men, especially men with beautiful smiles and even more beautiful eyes, made her lose her capacity to think in a rational manner. She always seemed to lose herself in thoughts of what they might look like naked.
“If anything is going to happen,” he said, “it’ll happen in the first few minutes after takeoff.”
“Yes, I know. In the first ninety seconds,” Lily said. “So if we’re going to die, it’s going to happen really soon. That makes me feel better.” She glanced over at him to see a smile break across his face.
“Now you’re beginning to make me scared.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He chuckled. “Why do you keep apologizing?”
“I’m sorry.” She took a sharp breath, then forced another smile.
A flight attendant stopped beside Aidan’s seat and gave him a warm smile as she set his drink down. Lily glanced across the aisle at another female passenger whose gaze was fixed intently on Aidan. It seemed every woman in his general vicinity found his drink order endlessly fascinating.
She sneaked a better look at his profile. So he shared some qualities with your basic Greek god, but handsome men were a dime a dozen in Los Angeles. She’d just never been so close to one. His elbow grazed hers and Lily gathered her resolve, refusing to move her arm off the armrest of her seat.
He turned back to her and she quickly averted her eyes as he caught her staring. “Would you like another?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lily said without thinking.
“Double vodka with a splash of cranberry juice?” the flight attendant asked.
“Just cranberry juice,” Lily replied, a blush rising in her cheeks. Already, the vodka had calmed her nerves and warmed her blood. But it wouldn’t do to have him thinking she was a lush.
“With just a little vodka,” Aidan said.
“I—I really don’t drink,” Lily said. “Only when I fly.”
“Me, too,” he replied. “Since we’re going to get drunk together, maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Aidan. Aidan Pierce.”
“I’m Lily Hart,” she said. She carefully placed her fingers into his palm. The moment she touched him, Lily felt a current race through her body. Frowning, she pulled her hand away, clenching her fingers into a fist. “Nice to meet you,” she murmured.
If only she knew how to flirt. There were probably ten or fifteen women on this flight who’d give up a year’s salary to be sitting exactly where she was. This man was going to be completely wasted on her.
Lily had never needed to flirt. It had never been required for the men who usually found her attractive. But a guy like Aidan probably expected it, maybe even enjoyed it—the witty banter, the offhand caresses, the veiled come-ons. Lily realized if she didn’t at least make an attempt, he’d walk away thinking she was…odd.
The flight attendant reappeared with her drink. Aidan handed her the cranberry juice, then he held up his beer in a toast. “To our safe arrival in New York.”
Lily gave him a hesitant smile. This wasn’t going that badly. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was flirting with her.
“So why are you headed to the other coast?” Aidan asked.
“I’m taking a little vacation,” Lily said. “In the Hamptons.”
“I have friends in the Hamptons,” he said. “It’s pretty wild in the summer. Lots of Hollywood people. So, are you staying with friends or did you rent a place?”
“I—I have a house. I mean, it’s my family’s house. Well, not really my family, but—I’ve been going there since I was fourteen. It’s near Eastport.” She took a sip of her drink. This was a conversation. Now it was time to ask him a question. “And where are you going?”
“The city,” he said. “I have a place in SoHo. Actually, I was supposed to have a meeting on this flight, but it was canceled at the last minute. And you must have gotten her seat.” He grinned. “Kind of a happy coincidence, don’t you think?”
And that was a compliment. Oh God, it was, wasn’t it? Or could she simply be reading a deeper meaning into his words? This was exactly how her fantasies always started, except she wasn’t usually drunk and she always looked like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. But this was close enough.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“A little,” Lily said. She reached out to set her drink down, but in her excited state, she missed the edge of the tray table and the glass slipped out of her hand. It tumbled off to the side and landed on Aidan’s leg, splashing her drink all over the front of his cargo pants.
Mortified, Lily grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the damp spot then realized where she was dabbing. She looked up into his gaze and caught his bemused smile.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“I can see we’re going to have to monitor your consumption.” Aidan took the glass from between his legs and set it down. Lily didn’t want another drink. Nor did she want to continue to make a fool of herself in front of this man. Suddenly, she felt the need to throw some cold water on her face and regroup.
She bent down and grabbed her tote, then stood. But as she did, her bag caught on the edge of Aidan’s tray table and his bottle of beer tumbled over, sending another round of drinks into his lap. “Sorry,” she murmured as she crawled over him into the aisle.
When she reached the bathroom, she stumbled inside and locked the door behind her. Lily sat down on the toilet seat and reached into her bag for one of her phobia books. But instead, she pulled out a hot-off-the-press copy of The Ten-Minute Seduction.
The book had hit the stores last week to little or no fanfare. She had hoped it might be a success after all the hard work she’d put into it. But really, what woman would need a book like this? Most men didn’t need to be seduced. They were usually quite willing to engage in sex whenever and wherever and with whomever.
“I need this book,” Lily murmured. She opened it up and scanned the first chapter.
Step one, carefully choose a target. Not every man can be seduced. A man who is completely secure and happy in his relationship with the woman in his life may willingly engage in flirtation, but will not be tempted to go further, even if you strip off every last bit of clothing and offer yourself to him on a platter.
She blinked, then looked up at her reflection in the mirror. For all she knew, he could be dating or committed or secretly engaged. Though he seemed to be interested. But then, men in Hollywood cheated all the time. Paging through the book, she found the pertinent section on flirting and read it silently.
Flirtation is a careful balancing act. Show too much interest and you’ll scare him off. Show too little and you’ll never get past the preliminaries. Make eye contact and then hold it just a few seconds longer than proper before glancing away. Lean in as you speak and if you can, accidentally touch him. A clever combination of confidence and mystery will tempt any man.
Lily moaned. Yes, she’d written these words, but they’d come from careful research, not from real-life experience. She set the book on the edge of the sink and stood up, regarding her reflection in the mirror. The glasses would have to go. She dropped them in her bag, then pulled the elastic from her haphazard ponytail. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned the next two buttons on her blouse, exposing a bit more skin and just a hint of cleavage.
“Better,” she murmured. But it wasn’t Lily Hart staring back from the mirror. If only she could become another person entirely, for just the next six hours. Could it be that difficult to play a part? L.A. was all about perception, people pretending to be something they weren’t in order to get what they wanted.
Could she push aside her own inhibitions and see if there was a seductress buried somewhere deep inside her? As a single woman living in L.A., she’d have to get herself some kind of “game” if she ever planned on attracting a man like Aidan. Why not take advantage of the situation and see where it led?
Every woman had this fantasy at one point in her life. How many times had she wondered what it might be like to switch places with a beautiful supermodel or a sexy actress, to be the object of every man’s secret desires? And she had nothing to lose. She’d never see Aidan Pierce again after this flight.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the seat-belt sign in preparation for our departure. Please return to your seats and make sure your belongings are stowed securely in the overhead bins or beneath your seat. The flight attendants will be coming around to pick up your drinks.”
It was now or never, Lily thought to herself. Just once, she wanted to go out there and grab what she wanted, even if it meant doing something wild and crazy and completely out of character.
Lily quickly flipped through the book, reading the list of hints she’d so carefully researched. “Scent is important.” Reaching into her bag, she searched for her perfume. “Highlight your most striking feature.” Lily looked in the mirror. She’d always believed that her mouth was sexy. She had full lips, shaped in a perfect Cupid’s bow. The kind of lips Hollywood starlets paid good money for. Lily plucked her lipstick out after her perfume. “Be confident, but not arrogant.” That would be more difficult. The outside was easy to change, but she’d been living with her doubts and insecurities for a long time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. We’re sixth in line for takeoff. We’ll be in the air in about five minutes. The weather is clear and our flying time to JFK will be approximately five and a half hours. Just sit back and relax and we’ll have you to your destination before you know it.”
Five and a half hours to live a fantasy, to live an adventure that might redefine the rest of her life. This time, she wouldn’t be left with regrets. This time she’d seek out her fantasies and make them real. And maybe, by doing that, she’d transform herself into a whole new woman.
AIDAN GLANCED at his watch, then turned around to look down the aisle toward the bathroom. Lily had disappeared nearly ten minutes before and he was ready to ask the flight attendant to check on her. She seemed so frightened by the prospect of flying that he was worried she might have gotten sick or even fainted in the bathroom.
When he’d boarded the plane, Aidan had been looking forward to a quiet, uneventful flight. Now that his in-flight meeting had been canceled, he thought he might be able to relax and catch a little sleep. He’d been going nonstop for nearly a year, working on his latest film.
He glanced down at the front of his pants, soaked through with the mixture of their two drinks. The flight attendant had handed him a wad of napkins when she’d collected what was left of the drinks, but Aidan had resigned himself to being uncomfortable for the rest of the flight.
He’d never met a woman quite as skittish as Lily Hart. Though he was used to being hounded for autographs by giggling female fans and had experienced a fair number of racy proposals, he found all that silliness irritating. So why did he suddenly find it so charming in Lily?
Perhaps because there was no artifice there. She wasn’t just playing the part to be coy. She really was a bundle of fears and insecurities. No woman intent on charming him would have spilled two drinks on purpose. Or locked herself in a bathroom for ten minutes.
He drew a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. She was beautiful, though, beneath those schoolteacher glasses and that careless hairstyle. And he couldn’t deny he found her attractive. He’d been in L.A. for far too long and the women there had all started to look alike—long blond hair, trainer-toned bodies with spray-on tans. And personalities so bland that he could barely carry on a conversation.
At first, dating beautiful actresses had been a kick. In high school, he’d never been able to get a pretty girl to give him a second look. He’d been skinny and fashion-challenged and he’d worn glasses. College had been a little better. But these days, a membership at a gym, a competent Hollywood stylist and laser eye surgery had corrected all his problems. Now, he could pretty much attract any woman he wanted. The problem was, he didn’t want them once he got them.
So what the hell was he searching for? “Someone real,” Aidan murmured. “Something real.”
He’d become disenchanted with his life in general, his work, women, even the car he drove. He’d been making hit films, but they weren’t important films—they didn’t mean anything, they wouldn’t last. His relationships had fallen into the same pattern, flashy on the surface and devoid of any true emotion. And hell, he drove a gas-guzzling SUV just because it looked cool. What was that all about?
Maybe that was why he found Lily Hart so intriguing. She was real, with all her quirks and mannerisms. She’d made a complete fool out of herself and yet he found that utterly charming.
And she was pretty, too. She wore barely any makeup; her pale ivory skin was almost flawless. Her dark hair, pulled away from her face, made her features even more striking. But it was mouth that he found most alluring. It was perfectly shaped, untouched by all those silly injections.
Aidan scolded himself inwardly. Why did he automatically focus on her looks? Was this what L.A. had done to him, turned him into a shallow, superficial jerk? The woman sitting next to him wasn’t just a bunch of features thrown together for his viewing enjoyment. Hollywood was insidious, like a drug that lured you in only to make your life worthless.
That’s why he had felt compelled to return to New York. A dose of life in the real world always seemed to clear his mind and focus his thoughts. Aidan needed to remember the days when he had to pull pennies out of the sofa just to buy a cup of coffee.
The plane began to move slowly down the taxiway and Aidan pushed out of his seat and walked back to the bathroom. He rapped softly on the door. “Lily? Are you all right in there?”
An instant later, the door swung open and he found himself staring into the most striking green eyes he’d ever seen. He took a step back, certain that he’d knocked at the wrong door. But then he realized he was looking at Lily. She’d removed her glasses and let her hair down, the wavy dark strands curling around her neck. Her face, once pale and tense, was now flushed with color and her lips were painted a seductive shade of red.
He nervously cleared his throat. “You’re supposed to be in your seat. We’re going to be taking off soon.”
She smiled at him, regarding him from beneath long dark lashes. “Thanks,” she murmured.
He stepped aside and let her pass, then followed her down the aisle. His gaze dropped to her backside, the fabric of her skirt clinging to her curves like a second skin. Lily flipped up her tray table and buckled her seat belt.
“Feel better?” Aidan asked.
