He opened his door and climbed out. “I was hoping we’d have left on time, but someone didn’t set her alarm.”

The driver opened my door and offered me his hand. It was shaking as he took it. Over the hood of the car I watched Ethan stroll to the trunk and motion a question, silently asking if it was unlocked. The driver nodded.

Shocked I said, “Even if we’d left at nine, there’s a six hour time difference and a thirteen hour flight!”

Ethan corrected me, “Ten hours when you’re flying direct.”

“Still, the golf courses won’t be open!”

Ethan pulled out two suitcases from the trunk. “Which is why I took the liberty of packing you an overnight bag. Oh, and I had someone shop for you as well.”

“What?!” I gasped.

The driver wasn’t assisting him and there was a smile in the older man’s eyes. It was then that I realized they were familiar with each other. This might even be his personal driver. I couldn’t be sure and I was too well mannered to ask right in front of the man.

“Will that be all, Mr. Cocker?”

“No, Clark, just a second.” He locked eyes with me. “Ms. Reed, Clark can drive you back to your home if you’re afraid…of flying.”

I bristled at the pause and my back straightened. “That will not be necessary. Thank you, Clark.”

He tipped his head to me, climbing back in the car with a professional, “Have a safe flight.” But as he was about to close his door he paused. “Kick his ass, Ms. Reed.”

Ethan called over, “I heard that!”

Clark chuckled and shut the door, engine humming to life. As the sedan pulled away I walked to the foot of the white, metal stairs where Ethan waited for me. He had the smuggest look on his face. He’d pulled the ultimate surprise. I turned my nose up, and said, “Don’t scratch my suitcase on the way up.”

“Yes, your Highness,” he chuckled, following as my steps echoed. “You mean the suitcase I bought?”

“I’m assuming I get to keep it.”

“Of course.”

I was holding back a smile as I stopped on the steep staircase and looked down at him. “Then don’t scratch my suitcase.”

He paused, wind picking up his tousled mop. His cheeks were flushed. He was pleased his plan had gone so well. I wanted to kiss him. It was everything I could do not to take the few steps down and kiss his full lips and experience how good they felt against mine. I was beginning to believe our chemistry wasn’t normal, that something real might be happening to us, and it was tempting to follow my instinct but I wasn’t that brave. I turned back around and headed inside, worried I was being overly hopeful and reading more into this than what it was.

Two pilots sat in the cockpit and at hearing us board, turned in their seats and rose up to greet me. “Ms. Reed, I’m Captain Todd Gardner. This is my first officer, Talia Galvez.”

My breath hitched with surprise that they knew my name and that one of the pilots was a woman. I shook their hands. “Very nice to meet you. Charlotte Reed.”

Ethan set the bags down and shook their hands, too. “How’re you guys doin’? Ready for a night of Scotch and sexy accents?”

They laughed and the captain said, “We never drink on the job. You never know when we’re needed.” They closed the door with saluting head nods, and we were alone again.

He blinked at me, his smile flashing after a moment. “You think I’m too casual with everyone, but you don’t know the history.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” I confessed. And it was true.

“You weren’t? What were you thinking?”

“I’m not telling you,” I shrugged, turning to abate my curiosity about how luxurious this private jet really was. I’ve never wanted for anything but I was taught to be extremely cautious with money, that at any moment you could be on the streets if you weren’t careful. Apparently Ethan Cocker didn’t receive the same life lessons as I.

Slowly I walked forward into an oval living room, cushy couches, a winged two-level table with a bolted down cherry wood box that held glasses and bottles of expensive liquor. There was a game table on the left with a magnetic chessboard set up and ready to play. A panel divided the front room from the back.

In the center was a small kitchen and when I opened the fridge – I couldn’t help myself – I discovered it was freshly stocked with plates of poached salmon laid across gourmet salad beds, carafes of three different juices, fruit tarts with custard filling next to chocolate covered strawberries, and chilled Fuji water bottles.

I could feel Ethan watching me as he put our suitcases into an actual walk-in closet, but I was so engrossed in my curiosity I wasn’t thinking about him. I slid open a door and gasped at a dining room table that could seat six, plus benches that lined the walls, maybe for extra guests? I wasn’t sure. How wealthy was this man? He certainly didn’t flash it around. The way he dressed showed only a sense of independence not success.

And the final door I almost didn’t want to open. I had a feeling suddenly that I must look silly and a deep flush came over me. I turned my head and locked eyes with Ethan. He was standing beside the bolted-down dining table, his muscular arms crossed.

His voice was quiet and deep. “Go ahead, open it.”

I opened the sliding door and was greeted by a seductive queen size bed, the comforter fluffy and pillows ample, in between two nightstands, art deco lamps built into the wall above them. My chest started thudding and I closed the door. I met his eyes and we held there a tense moment. He walked to me and I thought he was going to kiss me.

“You’re an odd guy, Ethan,” I whispered.

His stare intensified. “Why does that sound like a compliment?”

“Because…it is one.” I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I was in trouble, but then an image flashed before me, of him and my intern having sex. I blinked away from him, slipped by, and mumbled a shaky, “So, do we need to buckle in or something? How does this work?”

His volume raised, the intimate quality vanishing and becoming casual again. “Ah no, we just take our seats. Unless you want to stand during lift off. You hold onto these handles here and enjoy the ride.”

“No,” I nervously smiled. “I’d rather sit if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He followed me back to the oval living room and sat on the couch opposite me as I fiddled with my hair. “Would you like a drink?”

“It’s not even noon,” I muttered. “Fuck it. Yes, please. Something…not too strong.”

I’d almost said, something strong, but that made me sound like a lush. If he handed me a Valium right then I would have chopped it up and snorted it just to get it in my bloodstream faster, and I didn’t want him to know that’s how nervous I really was.

“Mr. Cocker?” Captain Gardner had opened the door. We glanced to him and he said, “Air Control has given us the go ahead.”

“Great, thank you.”

My anxious gaze hovered over seemingly hundreds of levers and buttons in the cockpit’s console. It was intimidating and my eyelashes fluttered closed for a moment. The door followed my example.

Ethan asked, “You okay?”

Under my breath, almost talking to myself, I said, “There’s no way they know what all the buttons are for. There are too many of them.” I opened my eyes and saw Ethan’s smile. “I sound crazy.”

“You haven’t flown much?”

“Of course. But that doesn’t mean I ever get used to the fact that we’re a big hunk of metal in the sky and no wings are flapping!”

His easy laughter made me smile. Shaking his head and grinning, Ethan leaned for the bottles on the table between us and lifted two glasses. “Hold these.” I took them and he uncapped a bottle of Woodford Reserve. “Tobias, my cousin-in-law I like to call him, he loves this stuff. So he gave me some to keep on the plane right after I bought it.”

“How long have you had this?”

“Few months.” His eyes flashed to meet mine as he poured into the glasses I held for us.

“Only that long?”

He capped the bottle and returned it to its home as the plane picked up speed. “Had to find the right one. So all these rooms, they were already here. I bought this off a woman from Texas, oil money, and she was just like you, afraid of flying. Didn’t want this baby anymore.”

“I’m not afraid,” I thinly argued.

Ethan took his glass from my hand and touched my palm. “Then why are you clammy, Ms. Reed?”

I swallowed and met his eyes. “I’m not afraid. I’m just a tiny bit anxious.” As the plane’s nose lifted off the tarmac I closed my eyes, the whiskey shaking in my hand.

“How about this?” Ethan asked, an idea occurring to him.

With our eyes locked he took his shirt off.

One button at a time.

Now that got my attention.