Page 13 of Captivated By You
“Oh my gosh, you’re an asshole.” I never swore! Two minutes in front of him and he was turning me into trash. This was crazy.
Bad. Horrible.
His hands slid into the pockets of his faded, ripped, and perfectly fitted jeans. Darn him. Why did he have to be such a large jerk and so sexy at the same time? His gray shirt fit him almost better than the Johnny Cash shirt yesterday. And yeah, I remembered the shirt.
I’d remember this one, too. I knew it.
Goodness, he made it hard to think clearly. “I want to cancel our contract.”
“Can’t. What’s done is done. So I say since you’re stuck with me, how about we have a seat and enjoy ourselves.”
“Does that really work on women?”
He swiped a hand across his chin and then grinned disarmingly. “Pretty sure the only women who have come to where we’re going is my mom and sister, and yeah…me whisking them away always works on them.”
Huh. “And he has jokes.”
“Come on, Claudia. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Have a seat. I understand this is a shock, but you don’t need to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. But me being with you is going to be a disaster.”
“Thanks for the confidence, I won’t screw it up.” He stepped to my side and took a seat on a cream, leather couch, tossing his sunglasses to the side. His ice blue eyes burned into my skin. “Had a pretty girl in my arms yesterday and I wanted to see her more. I might be an asshole, but I’m not nearly the asshole you seem to think I am.”
He grabbed his guitar, dismissing me and at the same time making me feel like the biggest, judgmental jerk on the planet.
On shaky heels, I trailed after him.
He was right. The contract was specific and I already knew what Karen would say. “Sorry, not sorry. You made your choice.”
I was stuck, with a sexy, sexy man. I moved to New York to become anonymous, to be able to walk the streets so I wouldn’t have my name whispered behind my back or be constantly pointed at. My dad’s face had appeared on more than one national news channel and in more than one business magazine and newspaper. The last person I thought I’d be attached to in any way, shape, or form was a man whose baggage was louder and worse than mine.
I was going to end up on the front pages all over again, and then the sexiest man in the world would despise me for ruining everything I knew he was trying to fix.
I fell into a chair across from him. It faced the front of the plane and I wouldn’t have to look at him as he sprawled on the couch. “Where are we going?”
“To my private, secluded home on Anguilla.”
My head snapped toward him. Hands clutching his guitar, knees spread wide, even the way he sat was sexy. And the way he saidsecluded.
Like he really meant to say, “I’m taking you to my exotic island home so I can get you naked and fuck you until you can’t walk.”
For a second, I thought about saying yes.
“Okay,” I croaked. I looked out the window, wringing my hands together. I couldn’t even look at him.
I’d never been so terrified in my life and it wasn’t because I was with the man next to me, it was because I’d have tosleepwith the man next to me.
Infidelity might not say they sell sex, but if part of the contract I’d read was promising a monogamous relationship, I doubted he’d go without for a full year.
I was stuck. The taxi had left, there wasn’t another car in sight, and as I counted to ten to try to quell my bubbling emotions, the stairs outside were pulled away and the plane began moving.
I was doing this. I was going to be with Liam for a year, and there wasn’t a darn thing I could about it now.
––––––––––
I was flying over the Caribbean Sea, bright teal waters beneath us, and I was a wreck.
We were sitting in a private plane, no one else on board besides the pilot and one stewardess. He was still stretched out on the couch, guitar strap strung over his shoulder, the guitar seated on his lap. Headphones were in his ears and occasionally he thumped the body of the guitar with the heel of his hand and scribbled something else down on a paper notebook in front of him.
