Ailee
Ailee Green followed the flight attendant, still wide-eyed at the upgrade from Economy to Business in the first leg, especially as the day had begun stressfully with the hysterical mother on the train back from her secondment in Scotland.
It turned out that the choking baby she’d helped to airway clear earlier had been the daughter of a senior airline pilot. He’d made a few calls and asked for her upgrade.
The flight attendant gestured to the seat next to the sexy guy from the departure lounge. Ailee stifled a discreet gulp. Unexpected, but nice bonus.
They exchanged surprised glances and Ailee conceded he’d been aware of her, too. Ha. She’d thought he’d watched her out there in the departure lounge, and as she settled into the big seat she fancied that despite the huge armrest that separated them, the air between their seats had begun to vibrate like the twin jet engines outside.
She tried not to blush, but the darn heat raced up her cheeks on its own agenda. She could, however, resist the urge to fan her face. ‘Do I know you?’ Her voice came out softer and more self-conscious than she’d intended.
‘I don’t think so.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’d remember.’
He held out his hand. With only a slight hesitation she took his fingers and the quick touch sizzled between them. Both let go at the same instant.
‘I’m Fergus.’ The gravelly tones in his voice, apparently invisibly attached to her nerve endings, raised the hairs on her arms and tightened her throat. Good grief.
His presence, bare centimetres away, seemed to rock her usually serene world and she had no idea why she was suddenly so susceptible to a stranger.
His full lips tilted, wicked and enticing, as if sharing the joke that they’d ended up seated together, and Ailee melted into the seat like a candle under the sun. This guy was way too good-looking and probably knew it. There was that air of command and decision about him that sat like his fitted shirt so smoothly over him.
Her neighbour had those deep, dark, bottomless black eyes she’d read about but had never believed existed... He had the lot. She glanced down at his Italian shoes near her feet. She already knew his legs were longer and stronger than hers.
Gorgeous. Terrible timing. And next to her.
Double, triple, darn.
Could he have been the one? She’d waited for years, always hoping for the flash of recognition when she’d found that spark. It may have been a leap of faith that she’d one day encounter her true soul mate, but the concept kept her from rushing into anything long term because she believed in synchronicity.
She wanted what her parents had had.
Though, if what she was feeling now was ‘it’, then the timing sucked. Complications she did not need right now or for the next few months because she’d be no shape for any type of dalliance.
There was always the mile-high club — sex in the clouds — while she was well enough to do it. Ailee swallowed a bubble of semi-hysterical laughter. Her wicked thought matched his black, bedroom eyes and not her common sense, and Ailee blushed again.
She’d never had a promiscuous episode in her life and she’d bet this guy had had plenty. Face it, she told herself, it was unlikely her flirty-looking seat companion was on the lookout for a meaningful relationship if he smiled like this every time a woman sat next to him.
She moistened dry lips and incredibly his eyes darkened even more. Lord, she was in a pickle, and she hoped he wasn’t thinking she was flirting back. She glanced around for the flight attendant to save her.
An angel appeared with a tray of drinks. ‘Champagne? Is everything all right, Dr Green?’
Ailee already knew the plane was full and she’d have to stay next to this gorgeous guy and sweat it out at least ‘till Singapore. ‘May I have an iced soda water, please?’ To put out the fire.
The pretty flight attendant smiled, as if Ailee were the most important person in the world, until her eyes widened at the profile staring out the window next to her. Seemed her seat-companion had found something other than her that caught his attention.
The woman’s gaze flitted back to Ailee.
‘Not fair, is it?’ Ailee said softly, and the flight attendant met her look as she handed the drink across. Both women smiled in perfect understanding.
The drink fizzed frosty as it slid down her throat and when she’d finished it the hostess returned and cleared all the glasses for take-off.
Ailee relaxed back in the seat and closed her eyes. She’d just pretend he wasn’t there until she was used to him, but her heart was thumping and her brain chanted. It’s him. It’s him. Finally. She couldn’t help the smile.
The engines roared. The runway streamed past the window and she tried not to look at him while she watched the rushing earth through half-closed lids.
The aircraft left the ground and at that moment he said, ‘Sorry. Just need to talk for a minute. Are you from Sydney?’ His voice sounded tight. Odd. Different from before.
She opened her eyes. His magnificent chest rose and fell quickly.
She studied him more closely as she answered. ‘Coogee. In Sydney.’
She didn’t ask about his origins as the aircraft creaked and bumped. He winced as clouds streamed past his window, testament to how high they were off the ground already, but he told her anyway. ‘I’m from Clovelly.’ Rapidly. Still stiff in the shoulders. His hand tight on his seat belt buckle. ‘Not that far from Coogee. As the crow flies.’ Fast quick sentences.
She sat up straighter and stopped fighting the lure of chatting with him, intrigued by his odd behaviour, a sudden urge to comfort making her want to touch his shoulder.
Instead, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Ailee.’ She held out her hand again and then remembered the spark before, but before she could pull back he curled his grip around hers. Like a lifeline. And hung on.
His long, elegant fingers were dry, but his upper lip held a sheen of sweat and it seemed he couldn’t help a quick squeeze of her hand. ‘I don’t usually harass women, but I wondered if you would mind talking just for a few more minutes.’ His smile seemed forced. ‘Embarrassing as it is,’ he mocked himself, ‘I hate flying and I’m terrified of that moment after take-off. Before things even out.’
It was the last thing Ailee had expected to hear but made perfect sense. He hadn’t looked like he was terrified of anything up until this moment. In fact, she would have bet he’d do a great stand-in for Tarzan wrestling a couple of lions. Not so now. She eased her fingers out of his death grip and slid her fingers around his wrist.
His pulse raced well over a hundred and she suspected at rest he’d be a fit sixty beats a minute at most.
She looked at him properly.
Clinically.
There was that faint sheen of sweat on his upper lip and a tiny flickering tic under his left eye. Shoulders and thigh muscles bunched and tense. Just as the thought triggered her professional interest they hit a patch of turbulence and his face paled to alabaster. She squeezed his wrist in sympathy and then let his arm go as he reached for the armrests.
‘Sure,’ she said easily. ‘Flying’s really not that bad, you know. The view is breathtaking.’
He looked worse at the thought and she chuckled.
He shook his head. ‘Nice laugh. That makes me feel better than the story. Let’s talk about something else. What’s your discipline? I heard them call you Dr Green.’
‘Surgery,’ she obliged. She steered the conversation away from flying. ‘I’m looking forward to the stop over. Have you been to Singapore before?’
The plane dipped and righted itself. He clutched the armrests until his fingers turned white and she slid her hand across his rigid forearm and down over the top of his hand to comfort him. She saw him breathe out consciously, like a woman in labour reassured by a midwife, and she squeezed his fingers where they gripped.
There was a pause when he didn’t answer. The turbulence settled. He blew out a forced breath. ‘Singapore? On the way over. To break the flight.’ He spoke slowly, as if enunciation was a problem. Or he was going to throw up.
Poor guy. Ailee cast round in her mind for distracting conversation. She thought of the grand hotel left over from the colonial occupation of the English. ‘Did you go to Raffles, the big hotel?’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t leave my room.’
Rain rattled against the aircraft window but she ignored it. ‘You must visit. Raffles is tradition. I’m told you should at least drop in and have a gin sling and crack some peanuts.’
‘Peanuts?’ His hand had loosened to tight, as opposed to death-grip beneath hers.
‘Live a little?’ Ailee wondered who she was saying that to. Him or her? ‘You could always go the whole way and book for high tea. Though I tried to book from London but reservations need three days before you can get in.’
She smiled up at him and Fergus looked both stunned and delighted as if she’d just given him an unexpected gift. ‘What?’
‘You have a beautiful smile,’ he said.
You have a beautiful everything, she thought, but she didn’t say it. Just smiled again and they both settled back. She left her hand loosely clasped over his wrist.