LEANDRO BLINKED TO shield his eyes from the flash of the photographer’s camera. “Sorry,” he murmured, and the man smiled while snapping a few more photos in rapid succession. The interviews had drawn on for nearly two hours. The one he’d just finished was for a Brazilian MMA blog that he’d been looking forward to speaking with. Any chance to bring the sport he loved home to his country was a good thing, but he was ready for the day to be over. He was tired and irritable, a rare combination for him. He would’ve blamed it on the training while traveling, but he knew that was bullshit. The reason for his bad mood was sitting across the room working on her tablet.
His gaze followed his thoughts. Ashlynn sat on the hotel suite’s sofa, apparently engrossed in her work. She wore half of her blond hair up, with the rest of it falling down around her face. A pencil skirt hugged her ass—he knew because he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes off of it before she’d sat down—and she wore a modest blouse that covered more than it revealed. There was nothing overtly sexy about her sitting there working, but his dick hadn’t gotten the memo. Maybe it was the fact that they were in a hotel room, maybe it was that he’d just had her the night before, or maybe it was simply because she was Ashlynn, but his blood rushed south and he had to grit his teeth to fight against the beginnings of a very awkward erection.
“Hey, look this way, champ.” Caught staring, Leandro glanced back at the photographer, who gave him a knowing wink. “Give me a couple more photos and then you can chase that hot piece of ass, huh?” The man looked over at Ashlynn before giving Leandro a thumbs-up.
Anger that the man would be so disrespectful to her burned over his skin, turning his stomach. The asshole had no right to talk about her like that. The protective instinct that welled up in him might’ve surprised him had it not felt so good as it filled the hollows in his chest. He was glad that the guy had spoken in Portuguese so she wouldn’t understand what he’d said. “We’re done.”
The guy paused midphoto and lowered his camera. “What?”
“I said we’re done. You have enough photos.”
That got the reporter’s attention. He’d been sitting in the chair facing Leandro’s, organizing his notes from their interview. He was young, probably not even out of college, and he sat for a second looking back and forth between Leandro and his photographer before springing into action. “Ah, right, okay. Thanks for your time, Mr. Oliveira. It was an honor to meet you.” He leaned forward to shake Leandro’s hand before picking up his recorder and the stack of notebooks he’d brought with him. The photographer shook his head as he dismantled a light box and returned it to its case.
They were out the door in less than two minutes. Not nearly soon enough to suit him. Ashlynn stood to call out a good-bye and looked confused when the door shut behind them. “They left in a hurry. We still had”—she glanced down at her tablet—“ten minutes left.”
“We were finished.” He kept his seat, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair to hold himself there so he wouldn’t go over and try to touch her. He hated the distance that had grown between them since last night.
“Well, I guess we have a ten-minute break until the last interview. Do you need anything? Water?” She wasn’t looking at him as she walked over to the cart filled with drinks and snacks that she’d ordered when they’d first arrived. Her gaze touched everything else in the room but him. He grimaced at the painful tug near his heart. Everything felt wrong now.
His eyes drifted to her ass as she walked away from him. The open door behind her led to a bedroom. He’d dumped his suitcase there before changing for the interviews, so he knew it held a very nice king-size bed. There were so many things they could be doing in that bed instead of sitting here being awkward with each other. But that wasn’t a possibility because she kept making it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him. If avoiding someone were an Olympic sport, Ashlynn would take the gold. All day, through the travel and the interviews, she’d barely acknowledged his existence. No eye contact. No subtle touches. And he felt like after finally tasting her sunshine, he’d been plunged back into shadow. The truth was, it hurt, and he didn’t know what to do with that, since a woman had never tried to avoid him after sex.
Yet it was more than just any woman avoiding him, and that made it even harder to process. He was miserable, and she was acting as if nothing had happened. No, she was acting as if something had happened, but it was something that she didn’t want to think about. Like something embarrassing. Or something painful.
He straightened in his chair as he wondered if that was it. Was it possible that he’d hurt her without even knowing it? He’d tried to be gentle, but near the end things had gotten—fuck. He’d taken her harder than he’d meant to, harder than he should have. Something about being with her had made him lose control, and that wasn’t okay. Not if he’d hurt her.
Christ. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to think of a way to bring it up so that she wouldn’t be embarrassed. There wasn’t one, but he couldn’t let it go. Standing slowly, he walked to the beverage cart where she was using a pair of tongs to very deliberately put ice cubes in a glass. When she glanced at him under her lashes, he realized that it was her way of looking busy so he wouldn’t talk to her. Was she okay? Had he hurt her, physically or otherwise?
“Water?” she asked again.
“Are you okay, Ashlynn?” He both wanted and dreaded the answer.
Something unreadable flickered across her face, and he fought back the urge to touch her, not wanting to scare her away when she was actually on the verge of looking at him and talking to him again. He clasped his hands onto the edge of the cart, hoping he looked far more casual and relaxed than he felt.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her eyes dropped back down to the glass in her hand as she set the tongs down.
“Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“Did I . . . things have been . . . we’re not talking, and I just . . . Did I hurt you? When we . . .” He felt blood rush to his face; he felt like a fish flopping around on a dock. “Minha linda, I’m so sorry if I wasn’t gentle enough.” The idea that he’d possibly hurt her made him feel a little sick.
Her eyes widened, and her cheeks went the sexiest shade of pink—almost the exact same shade as when she came. She swallowed and ducked her head. “No, Leandro. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”
He smiled, relief trickling through him. “Good. Because the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
She looked at him as though she didn’t quite believe him, but it was true. He found himself wanting to take care of her, to protect her and shelter her from whatever it was that had put that fear in her eyes in the first place.
His eyes wandered down her body, taking in her simple green blouse, which matched her eyes, and dark gray skirt. Most of the women he’d dated wore half the clothes that she did and didn’t manage to look half as sexy. He almost gave a self-deprecating laugh at the word dated, because he didn’t date. Fucked was the appropriate word for what he did, but something about that didn’t sit right with him. It made him feel vulgar and wrong in a way it never had before.
He didn’t want that with Ashlynn. He didn’t want her to be just some one-night stand he’d forget in a month. He didn’t want that photographer’s disgusting assumption to be right. Fucking didn’t quite describe what had happened between them last night, but what did? He didn’t know what word to use for it, but it was different. He was different since being with her. He’d never been so consumed by a woman he’d slept with. The whole day had been taken up with thinking about her and wondering what she was feeling. Wondering what he was feeling.
Taking in a deep breath, he opened his mouth before he could stop himself. “You look really pretty today, Ashlynn.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, eating him up with her eyes. “So do you.” He frowned slightly, and she let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, you look nice. Not pretty. I didn’t mean to call you . . .” Her voice trailed off as her gaze did a slow walk down his body, and all he could think was that she could call him anything she liked as long as she kept looking at him like that.
Her blush deepened when she looked up to see that she’d been caught checking him out. She licked her lips and then cleared her throat. “There was a photo of us dancing at the club. Someone sent it to Craig. He called me this morning, after . . . He wasn’t happy about it, and reminded me about the WFC’s nonfraternization clause.”
“Nonfraternization?” It wasn’t an English word he knew.
“No dating among employees.”
The word dating seemed to hang between them, feeling big and heavy, but not unwelcome—at least, as far as he was concerned. Which was entirely new and surprising for him, but he had to admit that he liked it. He liked the idea of belonging to her almost as much as he liked her belonging to him.
Her eyes went wide as she realized what she’d said. “Not that we’re dating . . . or would date. I didn’t mean dating dating. I meant . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced down at the cart.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of the photo and Darcy?”
She nodded but then stopped abruptly. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
He blinked at her. “This is the first we’ve spoken since I was inside you.”
She gasped, her eyes darting up to look at him. Her nipples beaded, visible through the thin silk of her blouse, and he clenched his hands. He wanted to touch her, to be allowed to touch her as he had last night, but this awkwardness between them wouldn’t let him. And, fuck, he didn’t like it. It felt wrong and unnatural.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she whispered, and he felt those words deep in his chest, as though he’d been waiting for them. Wanting them. Needing them.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheekbone, lingering. Electricity sparked up his arm, while something warm and soothing settled in his chest. Touching her felt right. Ashlynn felt like home. Not in a geographical sense, but in a comforting sense. He could be himself with her, no airs, no games. He knew that she saw him and took him as he was. Whatever this connection was between them, he knew it was real. Genuine. Something worth pursuing. Something worth . . . fuck, maybe everything. He felt alive and awake in a way he never had before, and he knew it was because of her, not just the amazing sex. He’d had great sex before, probably more than his share, but this was deeper, or it could be if they gave it half a chance. The intensity of his attraction to her should’ve scared him and in the past it would’ve. But it didn’t feel scary with her. It only felt right.
“I didn’t want you to leave,” he said.
She seemed surprised, her mouth working to form a reply. “I had to,” she finally managed.
“Why? I thought we could spend the morning in bed. Talking. Touching.”
Her blush deepened, but she didn’t look away. Despite the fact that she clearly wanted him, she reached up and laid a hand over his, her fingers tracing over his knuckles. “We can’t happen, Leandro.”
He felt her words like a punch in the octagon, but he didn’t flinch, not showing her how she’d affected him. He wasn’t willing to accept the end of anything—everything—between them.
“I could lose my job,” she said, biting her bottom lip.
“I wouldn’t let that happen.” He leaned in closer, her scent filling his lungs, making him want to shove the cart out of the way and pull her against him. “I would take care of you.” The words came from somewhere deep inside him. Unrehearsed, unplanned, and, as unbelievable as it was, he didn’t want to take them back.
Her eyes softened, lust tinged with sadness shining out at him. “You don’t mean that.”
He blinked. Did he mean it? He was almost certain that he did, and it wasn’t a line to get her back into his bed. But he hadn’t consciously thought of what it would mean to take care of her. The words had just come out of him. Now that they were there between them, they felt right. Everything felt good with her. He wanted to take care of her.
His heart punched against his ribs. For the first time in his life, he was putting himself out there for a woman, asking for more than sex. He honestly had no idea what it meant or what he wanted. He only knew that he wanted it with her, needed to be with her in a way he didn’t understand but sought to explore. Licking his lips, he asked, “What if I do?”
She smiled and brought his hand to her mouth. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her full lips brushing a soft, tender kiss across his knuckles. With a shake of her head and that same sad smile in place, she said, “But you don’t.”
A knock on the door as the last interviewer arrived interrupted them. He couldn’t blame her for not believing him. As she dropped his hand and walked away, he acknowledged that he should be relieved that she hadn’t taken him seriously. What the hell had he meant by “taking care of her”? He didn’t even know. He only knew that he wanted her in his life. When this trip was over tomorrow, he had a sinking feeling that he’d never be this close to her again, and fuck, that felt wrong. It made him feel homesick for something that he’d never had, which sounded crazy but made perfect sense to him.
With a sigh, he followed her with his eyes as she walked away from him. They were done for now, but they were far from finished.
“LEO? ARE YOU listening to me?” Leandro pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, staring out the limo’s tinted window as they approached the Van Nuys Airport just outside of Los Angeles. His mother’s voice drilled into his skull, each syllable sharp and piercing.
“Yes, Mãe, I heard you, and I’m not getting involved.”
“But your father won’t talk to her, and you know how Isabella listens to you. She certainly won’t listen to me, and your father’s useless, as usual.”
Leandro took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. His mother was never happy unless she was meddling in someone’s life. “I think it’s great that she wants to open her own business. She was getting bored at the bank.”
His mother made disapproving sound. “She shouldn’t have been at the bank in the first place. If she’d spent less time with her head in books, less time burying herself in work, she’d have a rich husband by now, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her.”
He’d been listening to this same argument since his sister was sixteen. This was the twenty-first century, but apparently Isabella’s only job in the eyes of their mother was to land a rich husband. Even as a thirteen-year-old, it had sounded ridiculous to him. Leandro felt his patience slipping, and he scoffed. “First of all, you don’t worry about Isabella because she isn’t married. You want her to align herself with someone who’ll bring more money to the Oliveira Group. Second, and Mãe, we’ve been over this, Isabella is a lesbian. She’s never going to marry a man. You’ve known this for years.”
“Well, it’s probably just a phase. And if she saw the men who are out there, then maybe she’d change her mind.”
Leandro bit back an exasperated sigh. “It’s not a phase. It’s who she is, and like I said, I’m not getting involved. Hey, maybe I should invest in her new business.”
“Leo! Don’t be ridiculous! You’re being as stupid as your father.”
“I’m getting on a plane. I have to go. Tchau.” He ended the call before he said something he’d regret to his mother. He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the seat, the beginnings of a headache starting to pull at his temples. The longer he was away from home, the more clearly he saw his family, and the more he wondered how he fit with them, if he even wanted to fit with them. There was a certain toxicity inherent in so much of what they did and how they spoke to one another. He hadn’t fully realized it until he’d gotten some space away from them.
This was the first time he’d spoken to his mother since winning the championship belt. She hadn’t called to congratulate him. His winning didn’t matter to her, because she hadn’t seen how it would add to the Oliveira empire. He hadn’t realized until just this moment how much that hurt. Both his father and grandfather had congratulated him, but even with them he got the sense that they were more amused than gratified. To them, this was a fun little hobby to keep him busy. They didn’t understand that this life was who he was. Just like they’d never made an effort to understand Isabella and who she was.
“Your mom still trying to marry Isabella off?” asked Thiago from his spot on the bench facing Leandro. The other two occupants—neither of whom were Ashlynn, who’d said she had a meeting, and would meet them at the airport—scrolled on their phones, not paying attention to their surroundings.
Leandro blew out a sigh. “Always.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how she puts up with it. I’d have snapped by now.”
Thiago nodded, rubbing a hand over his chin. “What was that I heard you mention about investing in something?”
“Isabella’s starting her own financial company, specializing in microloans to small businesses.”
Thiago made a face. “Oh. That’s not nearly as exciting as the opportunity we heard about at dinner last night.”
Leandro raised an eyebrow. “What opportunity is that?” He frowned as he thought back to the night before. They’d had dinner with a couple of Thiago’s friends from Brazil who lived in LA now. Leandro vaguely remembered the guys talking about a business they were starting, but he’d been too preoccupied with thinking about Ashlynn and their brief talk between interviews to pay attention.
“The solar energy company Rodrigo is starting here in Los Angeles.” Thiago looked at him as if he should know where this was going. Leandro had a sinking feeling that he did. “Remember how he said he’s looking for investors? I was thinking we could go in on it together. I’d need you to float me my portion . . .” He shrugged. “But you’d get it back in a few years, I’m sure.”
Leandro frowned. “How much?”
“We could each invest three million.”
“You mean I could invest six million for both of us.” His voice was flat, a flare of irritation pushing up through him, making him antsy to be out of the limo.
“Right, but you’d—”
He cut him off. “No. You want to invest your own money, do what you want, but I’m not interested.” The dinner to introduce him to “old friends” had been nothing but a trick to get him to invest in a company he knew nothing about. Irritation turned to full-fledged anger. He felt used. Between his family and Thiago, it was starting to feel a hell of a lot like everyone wanted something from him, but no one was willing to give him anything in return.
Thiago’s brows knit together, his mouth turning down in a sulky frown. Before either of them could say anything, the limo came to a stop on the tarmac near the jet. Without waiting for the driver to open the door, Leandro pushed it open and stepped out into the sunshine, leaving the stifling darkness of the limo behind. He didn’t wait to see if Thiago was following him as he bounded up the steps and into the jet, nodding hello at the flight attendant.
He scanned the interior of the plane, his heart sinking just a little when he didn’t see Ashlynn. It had been thirty-seven hours since he’d last been inside her. Thirty-two hours since he’d woken up alone and disappointed to find himself that way. She’d left after the final interview last night, and this morning he hadn’t had a second alone with her as they’d prepped for the morning show. He missed her.
He felt Thiago and the rest of his crew step onto the jet behind him, and, needing some space, he moved into the private area in the back. His heart kicked happily against his ribs when his eyes landed on Ashlynn, sitting on one of the couches, her legs curled up under her, her tablet on her lap. For the first time since everything had changed between them, she met his gaze willingly, and he felt a zing of electricity down his spine.
He felt a tiny thrill of victory when she didn’t look away. Her lips parted, and he almost groaned as he remembered the brush of those soft lips against the head of his cock. He thickened almost instantly, and she sucked in a sharp breath, as though she could sense his arousal.
“Hi,” she finally said, her voice slightly raspy.
“Hi,” he said. A silence fell between them, awkward and full of everything they weren’t saying. “Your meeting was good?” he asked, scrambling for something to talk about.
“What?”
He wanted to sit down on the couch beside her, but he didn’t want to press her. He knew that coming on too strong could push her away. Damn if he knew how to proceed. He was out of his element with her. “Your meeting went well?”
“Oh. Um, yes. It was fine.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
Their eyes met again, and she bit her lip. His pants tightened even more, images of their night together flashing through his mind. Her eyes slipped down his body, lingering on the visible bulge in his pants. She swallowed and ducked her head, staring at her tablet as though it held the answers to all of life’s questions. God, what he wouldn’t give to be able to pull the sliding doors closed and show her just how much he’d missed her over the past thirty-seven hours.
“I’m trying to finish up some work.” She glanced up at him and he had the distinct feeling that he was being dismissed. It hurt, but that pain was mixed up with something else, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was.
Nodding, he gave her a smile and moved back to drop down in one of the chairs up front. He could still see her from where he sat and spent the next half hour glancing at her like some lovesick asshole. He finally realized what it was about her that intrigued him so damn much. Unlike his family, Thiago, and the other people he called friends, she was the one person who didn’t want anything from him. Almost anyone else would’ve found a way to use him by now, whether it was his money, status, or even a photo op. But she kept pushing back everything he tried to give her because she was afraid to take it. It was frustrating but appealing at the same time.
Sitting back in his seat, he let the conversation going on around him fade into the background. Maybe he needed some time to think this weekend. There was a big race in the desert tonight that Thiago had money on, but Leandro didn’t think he was going to go. For once, he wanted to stay home and relax. He was tired and, to be honest, a little lonely. He didn’t want to see Ashlynn go, but he couldn’t make her stay with him.
He closed his eyes and saw her as she’d been two nights ago. Beautiful and naked, her breasts bouncing and her hair flowing around her as she’d ridden him. But it was the expression on her face that stuck with him the most. She’d been so open and intense, no games, no pretense, nothing but her giving him everything. If he’d known she’d leave as soon as she had the chance, he’d have begged her to stay as he fell asleep with her wrapped in his arms.
A loud explosion like a car backfiring tore him from his thoughts. His eyes flew open as the whole world jolted, sending his shoulder slamming into the side of the plane as he fell out of his seat. Ashlynn shrieked and he barely registered the pain in his shoulder as he looked for her. Her wide-eyed gaze met his from the other side of the plane. Something was burning. It was sharp and metallic, almost like burning oil.
“Shit, there’s a fire!” someone said, drawing Leandro’s attention out the window. A dark trail of smoke came from one of the engines.
The plane lurched again and he heard Ashlynn whimper. Pushing to his feet, he braced a hand on the wall to make his way back to her. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but he needed to get to her. His heart throbbed in his chest, adrenaline flooding him.
“Mr. Oliveira, please take your seat,” said the flight attendant from her seat behind the cockpit, her voice unnaturally high.
The burning smell was getting worse, filling the cabin with a pungent, acrid scent that burned his throat with every breath. A large plume of black smoke obscured the windows on one side. His heart pounding, he closed the distance between them and sat down beside her. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head, but she was pale and her lips trembled. His heart twisted in his chest to see her so afraid, so he put his arms around her and pulled her against him. His fingers tangled in her hair as he held her. She buried her face against him and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. If they were the last words he ever spoke, at least they’d be honest.
“This is Captain Williams.” The captain’s voice came over the speakers in the cabin. “We appear to have lost one of the engines and have no choice but to attempt an emergency landing.”
The cabin erupted in gasps from everyone on board. Ashlynn tightened her grip on him, and he could hear her whispering, “Oh my God,” over and over again. His lips brushed her temple as everything seemed to slow down. For the first time, he considered that this could be it. They could die. He became hyperaware of the way her silky hair felt against his skin. The way she smelled. The fact that if they had to go down, he wanted her in his arms.
“I’m going to do everything I can to get us to the ground safely. Please stand by for emergency instructions from the flight attendant.”
The whole cabin went deathly quiet. The plane tilted again, and this time it didn’t right itself. “Please make sure your seat belts are buckled,” the flight attendant said through the intercom.
“Is your seat belt buckled?” he asked. Ashlynn nodded and reached for his. His heart dipped when she buckled it at his waist and put her arms back around him.
There was another sound he couldn’t identify, a horrible mechanical screech. He sat back, clenching his eyes closed as he held on to her, the only real thing in what had quickly become a nightmare.
“Shit, we’re going to die,” she said.
He shook his head, but he didn’t fucking know. The plane tilted forward and seemed to accelerate as they plunged toward the ground. Luggage and gear tumbled onto the floor. More smoke billowed past the window.
“No, minha linda. No.” He refused to believe it even as his heart thundered and his stomach heaved with the possibility they were about to be smashed into burning shards of debris.
“Heads between your knees!” The flight attendant yelled, not needing the intercom.
Ashlynn sat up and looked at him. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. So many things he wanted to experience with her. He felt angry and cheated that they hadn’t gotten that chance. He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. Quick and rough, it somehow managed to say all the things they didn’t have time for. He wanted to hold on to her as they went down, but if there was any way she could come out of this alive and unhurt, he wanted that more. So as hard as it was to let her go, he pulled back and dropped his hands.
“Brace for impact! Prepare for crash landing! Heads down!” screamed the flight attendant.
The plane suddenly tilted forward even more. They would’ve been flung from their seats had they not been buckled in. Bending forward he put his head down and grabbed his legs. His stomach tumbled as they flew toward the ground, knowing that at any moment they’d crash and that would be the end. All he could think was that Ashlynn wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him screwing things up so badly. If he’d been less selfish and more concerned with everyone around him, there’d have been no need for her to babysit him like a child. What a selfish bastard he’d been.
Finally, they hit the ground. The impact was hard enough to make him lose his breath, and the wing with the failed engine hit even harder, shifting the plane to the right side. The air echoed with the terrible sounds of metal screeching across earth. Smoke and dust filled the cabin.
Please let Ashlynn live. The thought played through his mind like a mantra in those moments. Her life was the only thing that mattered to him.