First Class Sin

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.

CHAPTER THREE

THE KISS SEEMED to take him by surprise, because he froze at first. She almost panicked. Was he going to reject her? Was she...not pretty enough for him? She wasn’t used to coming on to a man like this. She’d never kissed a man first in her life and wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. He was the kind of man who probably got any woman he wanted, so what made her think he’d ever want her? Part of her would always be that awkward beanpole. Despite the fact she’d long since developed, she still carried around the insecure fourteen-year-old inside her. The girl who’d been flat-chested until age seventeen.

But just as she feared her kiss would be rejected, he softened and his lips parted for her. He was kissing her back! This amazing man, fit, handsome and clearly smart, was kissing her back. But of course he was. This was how men worked, she thought. They couldn’t resist the physical, right? Why would Law be any different? She deepened this kiss, her passion rising in her, her need growing. He tasted so very good. This was what it felt like to want to kiss a man. The hint of lime and something dark and inviting hit her as the kiss deepened, and their tongues met. It felt as if a thousand volts of electricity shot through her nerves from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes, hot, insistent. The kiss turned savage, needy, as she ran her fingernails through the back of his hair, clutching at his thick, dark waves. Her fear and her panic transformed into want, the need for release. She pressed her body against him, knee itching upward as if she wanted to climb him. He grabbed her leg, pulling her in even closer so she could feel the need hardening in him.

He wanted her as much as she wanted him. That thought thrilled her. Yes, she thought. Yes. She’d never imagined wanting someone so fiercely. Was it a reaction to Garrison? Was it her taking back her own body? Maybe. Because here she was, devouring this man. She’d never planned this, not here in the bathroom of a plane. She’d never in a million years believed she’d do something like this, but her reptile brain had taken over. She’d nearly died, nearly dropped thousands of feet to the hard earth below, and this connection, this defiant act of sex, was all about survival. Now she was all animal, all base instincts, all need. Every bit of force and ambition she usually poured into her work now came out as pure want, as she slammed Law against the bathroom door with a thump, her tongue finding his. She wanted this. She wanted him. Now.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she barely knew the man. That made it all the better. She could do this, scratch this itch, fill this need, desperately knit a connection out of nothing. Her lips broke free of his.

“I want you,” she murmured, voice low, hoarse. She couldn’t believe her own boldness. Had she said those words out loud? Yes, she had. And she’d say them again. “I want you here. Now.”

“I want you, too,” he admitted, his pupils so big, they’d turned his blue eyes nearly black. She reached for his crotch, feeling the impressive swell of his want, proving that he spoke the truth. He groaned at her touch, leaning into her and claimed her mouth once more. The man could kiss.

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