I have five dollars to my name. Correction, had. After buying a coffee and a bagel, I’m down to two bucks, and I might use that to pay for a pillow during my impromptu flight back to New York.

Ten hours crammed on a plane with strangers.

Ten hours to punish myself for falling under Mason Wood’s powerful spell.

Ten hours to come up with a plan.

My cell phone vibrates for what must be the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. I know without looking that it’s Mason, but I refuse to answer. Even to tell him off. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat and I don’t trust myself not to lose my shit—or cave.

Because if I’m being honest, I really thought Mason liked me and that we had a chance.

I turn off my phone mid vibration and toss it into my purse. I’ve got fifteen minutes before pre-boarding, and I’m too restless to sit. I use the restroom first, using the mirror to wipe away the mascara smudges from my pale complexion and apply a thin layer of pink gloss. My skin is pasty—I’m practically a ghost. But this time, I almost wish I could become invisible, slide right off the face of the earth.

I smudge lipstick onto my cheeks and rub it in, smoothing out the make-shift blush to at least give some color to my face. Anyone who knows me will see through the mask.

Outside the bathroom, I weave through the crowds gathered in the small airport, passing the limited number of shops without even looking inside them. Even if I could afford a book, I don’t have the attention span to read, and with every magazine, I run the risk of seeing Mason’s smug, ruggedly handsome, sexy-as-hell face.

How pathetic that I can still find him attractive.

I stiffen my spine and lift my chin. Some of my decisions over the past few days could have been better, but there’s nothing to be gained from beating myself up over it. Maybe Mason’s right—I’m not the best fit for Daylight Holdings.

I’m not the best fit for him either.

The logic sounds right, but it doesn’t ease the tight knot of loss that’s lodged in the center of my chest.

I hear my flight being called over the intercom and weave through the kiosks and pull up to the end of the line. The lady in front of me rocks a stroller back and forth in a futile effort to calm her finicky baby. Forget the pillow—I’ll probably spend my last two dollars on headphones. Whatever movie the airline chooses has to be better than listening to a child crying, because hearing it’s sobs will likely ignite my own.

My throat swells, and I duck my head, embarrassed. I’m so not that girl—the kind who judges and complains. Even my most bitter moments are usually reserved for my cheating father. But it’s like my whole world is off balance, and I can’t get back to the city fast enough.

The line inches forward.

“Olivia!”

My spine stiffens at the echo of a familiar voice. Sweat beads between my shoulder blades. I’m obviously hearing things, clinging desperately to some kind of hope because there’s no way Mason is at the airport. Not when his very important retreat is underway back at the hotel.

“Olivia, wait!”

The line moves another foot. I almost trip over the baby stroller in my effort to get through the boarding gate faster, stubbing my toe on the wheel instead. The baby starts crying and the mom turns around to give me a glare that shrinks me to the size of a dashboard bobble head. Fuck.

Don’t turn around.

Just a few more minutes and I’ll be buckled into my seat, preparing for take off. This trip will be nothing more than a dot on a map, a distant memory.

“Miss?” I blink at the stewardess, who holds her hand out in expectation. “Your passport.”

I stare at her like a deer with its eyes caught in headlights.

“Are you boarding?”

“Yes, of course.” I scrounge through my purse, heart pounding like it’s about to take flight. “Sorry, I seem to have misplaced—”

“Don’t get on that plane.”

Slowly, I turn. Mason’s standing there, looking messy but sexy as ever. His dirty blonde hair is tousled and curled against his forehead. The armor around my heart suffers a warning crack.

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside if you’re not boarding,” the stewardess says. “There are people waiting to get on the plane.”

Mason holds out his hand, daring me take it. And damn if I’m not tempted. “Why are you here?” I lick my lips. “You don’t fucking have feelings for me. Get out of here. It’s business as usual, right?”

He stares down at his empty palm and then runs it through his hair. His eyes shimmer with emotions I can’t read, but somehow manage to make my heart flutter. Behind me, restless passengers push me aside. The last boarding call warning echoes over the loud speaker. “I have to go…”

“You checked out of the hotel.”

I steel myself against temptation. “My resignation will be on your desk by morning.” I’m trembling so bad I’m sure he can hear my knees knock together. “I assume your partners will rejoice, given how little they think of me.”

His face pales a little, and too late, I realize I’ve tipped my hand. Instead of taking a stand, I’ve basically admitted to running away hurt, like a child.

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.”

“Clearly.” I blink back a traitorous tear. “Nevertheless, I did. And you can’t take back what’s been said.” I blow out a breath. “It’s better this way. I’d rather know now before I get more invested in…whatever this was.”

Which wouldn’t take much, since I’m already in way too deep. Leaving now is like ripping off the Band Aid, protecting myself from the permanent scar Mason will surely leave on my heart. Some say we’re drawn to men like our fathers. I guess even I’m not immune.

My mother would be ashamed of me.

Hell, I’m ashamed of myself.

“It’s complicated,” Mason says. He rubs the back of his neck and closes his eyes. “I could have handled things better, but it was easier to just tell them what they wanted to hear.”

“Bullshit.” My blood spikes with anger. “You’re your own man, Mason. You expect me to believe that anyone has that much influence over you? I get it. It meant nothing to you. I’m no different than any other girl you’ve taken to bed.”

The words choke from my throat with sketchy resolve.

Mason steps toward me. “That’s not the case.”

I drop my hands to my sides, leaving myself open and vulnerable. My gaze drops to the floor, but he cups my chin with two fingers and lifts my face so that our eyes meet. I’m trapped beneath them, mesmerized by the intensity of his stare. “You are unlike any woman I have ever known, Liv.”

My hands tremble. “Just stop. I can’t, Mason.”

“Give me a chance to prove that to you.”

The flutter in my stomach inches up my throat. Mason takes my silence as permission, and pulls me close to his chest. His mouth hovers over mine, leaving me breathless, speechless. He kisses me, tender at first, our lips barely touching. And then he carefully pries them apart with his tongue.

I breathe in a gasp, and reach up to grab the nape of his neck. His hand winds through my hair and pulls me close. Impossibly close. I swear I can feel his heart beating against mine, steady.

My belly twists into knots.

His mouth devours mine, and with each passing second, the last of my defenses begin to erode. I’m aware we’re making a scene in the airport, but I don’t care. For these seconds, I pretend it’s just us. The world around fading into the background.

When at last our mouths part, I press my finger to my swollen lips.

“Just give me a chance to prove it,” he says again, whispering. Somehow this time I believe him, cling to the hope that he isn’t just feeding me a line. “I can’t explain it right now, but if you can just try to trust me.” He swallows. “I need some time.”

Time. Such a vague measurement, undefined and abstract. Endless. My mother’s voice niggles at the back of my mind, but the voice of reason is drowned out by desire. I want Mason. And I can’t resist him right now, not when he’s telling me exactly what I’d hoped to hear.

And maybe that’s weak or wrong—but for now, it’s enough.

“Fine,” I say, lifting my head to look up at him through hooded lashes. “I won’t quit my job. And I’ll give you space, time. But I can’t wait forever for this proof.”

His shoulders relax. “Good,” he says, his eyes darkening with desire as he stares at me.

“But I won’t stay here,” I say, forcing myself to stand firm. On this, I’m not willing to budge. “Not after hearing what your partners think of me, the things they said.” I swallow hard against the painful memory. “I won’t allow myself to be treated like that by them.”

Maybe in time I’ll be able to face them.

Not here. Not now. If Mason won’t accept that, I’ll have no choice but to get on that plane.

Mason kisses my cheek. “I agree to those terms. We’ll leave immediately.”

Surprised, I tilt my head. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He takes out his cell phone and quickly dials a number. My stomach clenches as it rings. “Lucas,” he says, his tone curt. “You and Holden will need to finish up meetings without me.” There’s a beat of silence, and then. “Something’s come up. I’ll be going back to the city immediately.”

There’s another long pause—and I can only imagine what’s being said—and then he hangs up. I search his face for regret, but his eyes twinkle with mischief instead. He loops his arm through mine and grins. “Shall we get out of here, Miss Landers?”

I have to laugh, despite or maybe even because of the craziness of it all. “Why, Mr. Wood, I thought you’d never ask.”