Megan stood beside him on the tarmac, her eyes fixed on the jet, and Parker felt his stomach sink. In the car, she’d been responsive. Open to his touch. He’d seen the surrender in her eyes when he’d told her that he wanted her. He’d watched her skin glow as the heat of a blush warmed her skin when he promised her pleasure.

His fingertip still tingled from heat of her skin against his, and his entire body ached with a need that had been building since the moment she walked into the bar wearing that flirty dress with the fitted bodice, its tiny white buttons practically begging to be ripped open.

They should have kept driving. Hell, they should have gone to a fucking Denny’s. Anything to have kept the look of growing passion in her eyes, and to have shut out this expression of apprehension he saw creeping onto her face.

All night, he’d craved the moments when he could be alone with her. In the car. On the jet. Long moments when it was just the two of them with a drink, a caress. With words and lips and decadent promises.

Now, though, he was afraid that Desire had made him her bitch, and that by bringing Megan here, he’d pushed her too far.

The irony was that he never used his money as an enticement for women. He never took them to his penthouse. Never flew them to exotic locations. Never zipped across town in his Ferrari or took them out for a Saturday afternoon shopping spree, filling their closets with jewelry and designer clothes.

When he was younger, he hadn’t wanted to spend a dime of his father’s money on himself or anyone else. And now that he had his own money, he only wanted to use it when it mattered.

Tonight, it had mattered. She’d mattered.

But he hadn’t factored in Megan’s hesitation. It was a mistake he would never have made in a business deal, but dammit, the woman had gotten under his skin. He was trying too goddamn hard, and he knew it. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to back off.

He wanted her, dammit. And Parker had spent his life going after what he wanted.

He didn’t intend to stop now.

“Megan.” He’d released her hand after they’d gotten out of the car, and now he reached for her again. She avoided him though, crossing her arms over her chest as if blocking a chill. A ridiculous notion in the middle of an Austin summer.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

There was a pause, but then she answered, her eyes still on the jet. “I’m thinking that I wasn’t expecting a plane. A car, sure. A taxi, maybe. Even a horse drawn carriage around downtown. But Parker, a plane?” She turned to face him. “I’m not sure that I should—”

“Do you trust me?”

“What? I—It’s not about that.”

“Of course it is. You’re standing here trying to decide if it’s wise to get on a plane with a man who’s trying very hard to seduce you.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Maybe.”

Well, that was progress. He pulled out his phone. “I don’t own this jet,” he said. “I’m just renting it. This is the contract,” he added, showing her the screen. He opened a text message and forwarded it to her. “Send it to Griffin. Send it to all your friends. Send it to Kasey back in Los Angeles.”

Her eyes widened at that. “You remember Kasey?”

“The friend from your apartment building. She came to a few parties with you.”

“Well, that certainly explains a lot.”

He shook his head, not understanding.

“How you managed to become such a big deal businessman so fast. You have a seriously impressive memory.”

It was true, he thought. He did. But it was the most impressive when it was focused on facts and people that he cared about.

“The point is that the contract has all the information about the plane and the pilot. You’re nervous about flying off and disappearing from Austin, but you don’t have to be.” This time, he did take her hand, and she let him. “You can trust me,” he said. “I promise.”

“I do trust you.”

Those simple words filled him with more joy than he’d expected.

“I’m just not sure I trust myself.”

He saw the shadow in her eye, and was sure she was thinking of Carlton. “But you do trust yourself,” he pointed out. “That’s why you’re in Austin. That’s why you came to talk to me about the contest yourself. That’s why you’re not dating Griffin even though it would be so easy to fall into that pattern with a friend.”

“I think you’re seeing serendipity more than me trusting my instincts. But it’s a sweet thought,” she added, before he could argue.

She lifted her head to focus on the plane, then drew in a deep breath even as he held his in anticipation.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“If you want me to.”

“No,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re right. I do trust myself. And I trust you, too.” She met his eyes, then smiled. “Wait to tell me until we’re in the air.”

---

The surprise, it turned out, was New Orleans, someplace Megan had never been, and so she was completely giddy when he told her that it was only an hour flight, and that they’d be having a late dinner at Commander’s Palace before returning to the French Quarter for a night of jazz, drinks, and dancing.

Giddy, yes. But also confused.

Because despite the electricity that zinged between them—despite the fact that they’d been sitting side by side on the plush leather loveseat for a good fifteen minutes now—Parker hadn’t made any sort of move to seduce her. Hell, he hadn’t even touched her, and, frankly, she missed the way his finger had felt when he’d teased her thigh in the car.

And her body still ached from the way he’d eased her skirt up, his fingers coming so deliciously close to her sex that it had taken all of her willpower not to either squirm or beg.

Not to mention those sensual, seductive words with which he’d teased her. Words that had melted her, making her long for more than just talk.

But now, as they soared over Texas and Louisiana, he made no move at all. And, dammit, his lack of attention was starting to give her a complex. Especially after she’d logged onto the plane’s wifi in order to text Griffin to find out who won the contest—Parker, of course—and he’d flat out told her to use a condom, to get at least a little sleep, and for God’s sake not to lay her heart on the line.

Ironic that neither her heart nor her sleep schedule were at risk, and at the moment a condom would only be useful for making balloon animals.

She’d ended the text conversation by asking him to feed the cats and the fish. And then, since Parker’s mention of Kasey had brought her to the forefront of her mind, she’d texted her LA bestie, telling her that Megan was currently heading to New Orleans with Parker Manning, and would wonders never cease?

Kasey, of course, would assume that sex was on the menu. And the fact that it wasn’t even an appetizer was what finally spurred Megan to her feet and to action.

That, and the fact that she’d just finished her second glass of wine and boldness came easier with alcohol.

“This,” she said, as she stood in front of him, “isn’t at all what I expected.”

“No?”

His expression was innocent, but she thought she saw heat underneath his stoic facade. Heat, and possibly amusement. As if they were in the center of a cosmic joke and she was the one who didn’t get the punch line. A possibility that, frankly, only added to her frustration.

“No,” she said firmly. “From the moment I stepped into your office, sensual words fell from your lips like honey. I mean, honestly, you could qualify for the dirty talk Hall of Fame. But that’s all I get? Talk? Haven’t you heard what they say about all talk and no action?”

The corner of his mouth curved up, and heat bloomed in his eyes. “You’re saying you thought I’d touch you? That I’d slowly strip you, then tease every inch of you mercilessly with my tongue? That I’d kiss you until you were breathless and wet and ready. That I’d stretch you open with my fingers, then thrust my cock inside you and ride you wild and hard until you begged for mercy? Is that what you thought, Megan?”

Her breath came faster with each word, and her legs went weak. “That’s what I’m talking about,” she finally said, despite the fact that her mouth had gone dry. Her sex, she noticed, wasn’t dry at all. Not anymore. “All talk, no action. Well enough of that.”

She saw his eyes go wide and heard his sharp intake of breath as she moved to him, then straddled his lap. Her skirt spread in the process, and she could feel the hard length of him against her sex, separated only by his jeans and her panties.

“I said I wanted you, Megan. And I do.” His voice, which had been teasing before, now sounded raw. “Right now, I don’t think there’s anything I want more than to rip off those damn panties and have you ride me all the way to New Orleans. But we can’t. Not yet.”

“The hell we can’t.” She rocked her hips so that his erection stroked her sex and teased her clit, making all the thoughts in her head evaporate, leaving only a wild, violent need. “Please.”

“Megan, oh, Christ, Megan.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Dammit, Megan.”

“Yes,” she murmured, grinding against him. She was shameless. Wet. Desperate.

More than that, she was determined, and she reached for his fly. She started to tug down his zipper, but his hands caught hers, stilling them, his touch gentle, but firm. “Later,” he whispered, shattering her soul. “Not now. Not like this.”

Mortification burned through her, and she scrambled off of him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She’d opened herself. She’d let herself want. And he’d completely shut her down.

“You bastard,” she whispered, her eyes burning. But she was determined not to cry.

“Megan, I’m sorry. You don’t understand. I let us both get out of control, but—”

“Shut up,” she whispered as the plane started to descend and tears leaked from her eyes. “Just shut up and take me home.”