Goodness!

Sabrina couldn't help it, she gasped audibly when she saw the plane. They'd driven directly out onto the tarmac. The limo parked and Marley opened the door while she stared at the gleaming white jet.

She'd thought for some reason that they were flying commercial. First class obviously, but commercial. She’d been very, very wrong.

But no. Nick Falcon had his own private jet. It wasn't a small one either. It was huge.

There were dark gray and a deep plum colored stripes near the tail of the jet. She glanced sideways. Nick was wearing leather pants, as usual. But he also wore a plum bandana around his neck. His jacket was dark gray, similar to the color of the suit he’d worn for his television appearance.

He seemed to like the color a lot.

She was noticing all kinds of things about him over the past few weeks. He was arrogant, but he could be kind. He was frequently drunk, but he made sure to be sober when it counted. And he noticed things around him.

Especially her.

He always seemed to notice everything about her.

She’d imagined him a reckless creative type, bumbling and drunk and full of himself. But he was much more than that. He was bright and mischievous and fun.

Sabrina was not used to being wrong about the artists she dealt with. She could see how they wanted to be handled and worked with them to get the best results.

But in this case, she’d been so far off the mark it startled her.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

They were escorted out of the limo by a personal TSA agent. He checked their passports and itineraries. She noticed that Marley took care of all of that for Nick. Nick just stood there, smoking a cigar and staring at the sky. She wondered briefly if the musician knew how to do anything for himself.

She smirked at the sudden image of Marley tying Nick's shoelaces for him. The musician did seem sort of adorably helpless at times. But the rest of the time, he was utterly and implacably in charge.

Powerful.

It was a compelling combination of personality traits. Part of her wanted to look after him, like Marley did. The other part wanted to put a crack in his ego, get him in line.

Another part of her wanted to kiss him.

A big part of her wanted that she suddenly realized. She wanted it badly. Surprisingly so.

Even more than all of that, she wanted to run away. To put as much distance between them as possible. Run back to the limo as fast as her stilettos could take her. That's what she usually did in situations like this.

Not that she had ever been in any situation remotely like this one.

But running was not an option. Not if she valued her reputation. He'd made sure of that.

The TSA agent gave them the all clear and Nick shook his hand, giving him a friendly smile. The man positively oozed charm. It wasn’t a game. Nick clearly knew he’d drawn a good hand in life and treated others graciously because of it.

No wonder people loved him.

They climbed the stairs to the jet. She wondered briefly if he was doing all this to get close to her. Or if it was merely to punish her for daring to gainsay him. Or if he really did need her, as much as he needed Marley.

She shook her head. That was an absurd thought. Nick was a grown man, he didn’t need looking after.

Probably it was just a silly game he played to entertain himself. She suspected he liked to play games.

She, however, did not like games. She’d never played much as a child. She’d have to get good at them and fast. Maybe she should read up on poker… she had a feeling she’d need her game face to get through the rest of the tour.

She boarded and mentally started to prepare herself. Nick smiled at her warmly and she gave him a small nod.

Game on.