Page 89 of Inescapable


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“There’s an actual bed on this plane?” Iris asked, her attention on Trystan now, and he grinned at the combination of shock and glee in her voice.

Piper’s smile widened and she tactfully retreated, but Trystan was so laser-focused on Iris’s expressive face he barely registered the woman’s departure.

“Yes, in the bedroom next to the lounge. The captain has turned off the fasten seatbelts sign, so you’re free to have a look around.”

“God, who has a bedroom and lounge on their plane?”

“Miles Hollingsworth,” Trystan told her with a laugh.

“This isn’t yours?”

“God, no.” She looked a little relieved at his answer until he continued. “My plane has a game room and a home-theatre system on board.”

Her hand flew to her mouth in actual horror and he hooted with laughter.

“You should see your face,” he teased. “I don’t have a private jet, sugarplum. I rent them for long-haul flights, but buying one is a little too extravagant for my taste.”

She looked somewhat appeased by the explanation, until he went on to say, “I do have a 100-foot luxury yacht though. But I’ve been working so much these last few years, I’ve barely had time to enjoy it.”

“That’s a lot of boat for just one man,” she said and he took hold of her free hand and entwined his long fingers with her small, slender ones. His thumb traced the soft underside of her thumb and then skimmed up the delicate line of her index finger before he lifted her hand to his mouth and dropped a kiss on the back of it.

“I’m happy to share it with you.”

She looked appalled at the notion and he swallowed down his smile in the face of her transparent horror. He liked that she wasn’t enthralled by his wealth and possessions. Trystan recalled the faint mockery in her tone whenever she’d referred to Miles’s fleet of luxury and sports cars, back when she’d assumed they belonged to him. She didn’t give a shit about his money and the lifestyle that went along with it. In fact, she seemed to find it all a little repugnant. Which, while not ideal—since it was a fact of his life with which she’d have to get comfortable, fast—was refreshing.

“I’m not sure I’m a boat person,” she said and he squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

“You’ll love it.”

“This is all a little overwhelming,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“We’ll ease into it, okay? Baby steps,” he said. He kept his voice gentle, not wanting her anxiety to flare up again.

She wriggled her hand out of his, and he reluctantly ceded it back to her. Her bright eyes swept around the cabin’s interior with a little more interest and enthusiasm than before, when she’d been too wrapped up in her anxiety to pay attention to her surroundings.

“This is pretty lush,” she said, running a reverent hand over the buttery leather seats. She unbuckled her seatbelt and toed her trainers off, before tucking her feet under her butt and reaching for her tea.

She sipped the hot drink quietly for a few moments, while soaking in her surroundings, and then sat up again abruptly. “Where’s Luna?”

“Sitting with Chance,” Trystan said, twisting a strand of her soft hair around his index finger, hopelessly unable to stop himself from touching her.

“Ooh, I haven’t met Chance yet,” she said, uncurling her legs. “So rude of me not to have properly introduced myself.”

“Of course you met him. He drove us here.”

“Your friend Sam dominated the conversation. I didn’t get a chance to speak to the hot Aussie at all,” she said with a sulky little pout that made him want to suck that lush lower lip into his mouth.

“Hey now,” he warned. “I’m the only hot Aussie you need to be concerning yourself with.”

She rather offensively dismissed his comment with an amused snort and a nonchalant wave and pushed to her feet. “He’s a bodyguard, Trystan. That’s next level in the hotness stakes.”

“I can be a bodyguard,” he said, fighting hard—and losing badly—to keep the sullen grumble out of his voice.

She paused to stare down at him with a speculative tilt to her head. “And a marine, and an air force pilot, and a…”

The confusion on her face cleared up instantly, as she understood what he meant, and she laughed. “That’s pretend, babe. Now leave me to chat with the nice big protector guy, will you? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She appeased him by bending down to drop a quick kiss on his mouth. In retaliation for her sass, he swatted her butt as she passed his seat.

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