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Italian Affair Page 2
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I hate it when that happens. Next time I’ll be on time, she promised herself.
She handed her laptop over to one of the cabin staff to stow it in another compartment. Glancing down at her boarding pass, she smiled when she saw she’d been allocated the window seat. No matter how many times she flew, she preferred sitting near the window so she could see the ground approach when the plane landed on terra firma.
“Excuse me.” She smiled at the man sitting in the middle of the three-seat row. The aisle seat was vacant. “I need to get past.”
He ignored her.
“Excuse me.” She stood with her hands on her hips as the fasten seat belt sign came on and the flight attendant gestured for her to be seated. She shrugged her shoulders and pointed to the man who was ignoring her, and then she realized he had earphones in. She reached out and tapped his shoulder, and when he looked up, she grinned at him. It was the sleaze who’d been checking out her ass in the coffee shop.
“Sorry,” she said pointing to the window. “I’m in the window seat. I need to get through.” He closed the laptop and slid his legs to the side so she could get past. Settling into her seat, she reached over and held out her hand.
“I’m Brianna. I hate flying and I talk too much when I’m nervous so I’ll apologize in advance.”
He ignored her outstretched hand and nodded at her briefly before turning back to the computer screen. She’d had a brief glimpse of deep blue eyes beneath lowered lids set in a tanned face. He was a big man, tall and broad, and he looked uncomfortable in the small airline seat.
He is a bit of eye candy. Might as well have something decent to look at during the flight, even if he is going to ignore me.
“Pleasure to meet you too, mister. Wake me up when we get to Singapore,” she said. But the sarcasm was wasted as the headphones remained in his ears and his gaze fixed on the screen. With a yawn, she settled into her seat and closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her as she wondered how the hell she was going to find the lawyer, find a fiancé, and claim her inheritance.
Four days to find a husband. It echoed through Brianna’s mind like a mantra.
Chapter Three
After the jet reached cruising altitude, the seat belt sign went off. Tom looked across at the woman sleeping beside him. She was sprawled like an adolescent stretched out on a sofa. Her long bare legs finished in short socks and boots, and took up the space in front of his seat. He undid his lap belt and moved one seat over to the vacant seat next to the aisle, so they both had a bit more space.
When she’d shoved past him to the seat, he’d been scrutinized by a piercing gaze and a shiver had snaked down his spine. He was surprised by the strong Scottish accent. He hadn’t noticed that in the airport. He’d pegged her for an Aussie or Italian with her olive skin. Her parting shot about it being a pleasure to meet him had him smothering a grin. She might be a scatterbrain, but she was feisty.
And quite beautiful.
Even in repose, her eyes were circled by dark shadows. Soft pink lips were parted as she slept beside him, breathing softly. Her olive skin was unblemished, and dark lashes fanned onto high cheekbones. A long plaited braid lay across her chest, which rose and fell with each breath. He wondered where she was going and why she looked so exhausted. Before she’d fallen asleep, he’d noticed her dab at her eyes a couple of times. He’d shrugged and turned his laptop on.
Not my problem. He had no idea why she was so desperate to find a husband, and he didn’t want to know. He’d had enough of women to last him a lifetime, although when he looked at Lissy and Nick, he knew they were perfect for each other. God knows he needed a change after the fiasco with Jill. He’d been sucked in by her and she’d played right along, always interested in the plan he’d mapped out for his life.
And too interested in his financial status, he’d discovered just in time.
Her parting shot about his boring corporate life when she told him about the husband she’d left behind in Melbourne had cemented his desire to get away. He’d called Italy and finalized the paperwork with his aunt’s lawyer the same day.
He was well aware that he held the reputation of being the boring brother, but he preferred to think of himself as sensible. His shrewd and careful approach to playing the stock market through the global financial crisis had paid off, and he’d made a killing, although only his broker knew how successful he’d been. It had given him the opportunity to dump his career and buy the marina. He’d never have to work again if that’s what he decided he wanted out of life. He would stay commitment-free, and that was the way he wanted it.
Closing his eyes, he thought about the next few months. He had to find somewhere to live. He knew how small his aunt’s apartment was, and besides, he preferred to live alone. Then he’d sort out the finances of the marina and get a handle on the day-to-day running of the tourist side of things. He’d exchanged several e-mails with Aunt Carmen’s accountant, and it looked like he would be able to leave that side of things as they were. Then it was time to start living and experience life beyond the four walls of an office—he was way overdue for a bit of fun. He smiled to himself. By about ten years. Everything a man could ask for in his life—great career, secure finances, and solid investments—had come to him through dedication and hard work. But restlessness had overtaken him over the months since Nick’s wedding. What was he missing out on?
He opened up his laptop and tapped away at the keyboard and began a list. To pass the time, he thought of some ludicrous things that were totally out of character and added them.
Didn’t hurt to dream.
“How many guys do you know who wear a suit on a holiday to Europe?” Alex, his youngest brother, had teased him at the airport when they saw him off to Sydney.
He’d pushed Alex’s hand away as he’d played at straightening Tom’s tie. “One of the sons in this family has to dress respectably. However, I’m not going to have a haircut while I’m away, and the suit will go in the cupboard as soon as I unpack.”
“I’ll believe it when you e-mail me a photo.” Alex had laughed.
Now Tom grinned to himself as he typed “get a tattoo” and then deleted it and typed “get an earring.” That would send a message to everyone who thought he was a bore. Staid old Tom with an earring and long hair?
Stuff it, he’d do it. After all, who knew him on the island? He grinned as he imagined a whole new persona for himself, focused on having a good time. He looked forward to sending a photo to his brothers. Ten minutes later, a definitive list of ten things he intended to achieve in Italy filled his screen.
“Can I make a suggestion?” A quiet voice close to his ear startled him. He looked across and was taken aback to see that his seat neighbor was awake and reading the list on his screen.
“And that would be?”
“Sounds like you’re planning a great trip,” she said with one eyebrow raised and her head to the side. “Jet Ski…ride a bike, and—”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder?”
A wide grin spread across her face and she nodded. “Yes, but you were so focused on your typing, I was curious. Sounds like a good holiday,” she said without a hint of apology.
“Yes, I do plan on having a good holiday,” he finally said. “Anyway, what was your suggestion?” It would be too rude to totally ignore her. He’d already done that once and heard her smart-mouthed comment.
“Depends on what sort of motorbike you’re going to ride. The Italian Grand Prix is on in Mugello next month. I’ve heard it’s worth seeing if you love your motorbikes, but if you want tickets, you’ll need to book them well in advance.”
Tom stared at her. “No, I’m not into motorbikes. I’m going to get myself a push-bike.”
“Wow, you are going to do some thrill-seeking.” She put her hand over her mouth to cover a giggle. “And here was I thinking you were a bit of a right balloon.”
“A balloon?”
Her face w
as full of mirth and she held his gaze as her lips twitched. What the hell was she on about? Just his luck to sit next to someone who was two bricks short of a load.
“Sorry, I keep forgetting I’m not in Scotland. A balloon…” She tipped her head to the side and he read the mirth in her expression. “Ah…it’s someone who thinks they are pretty damn good. After all, I did catch you checking out me wee arse.” When he looked at her blankly, she leaned forward and pointed behind her. Her bare leg pressed against his thigh as she leaned over close to him and twisted in the seat.
“My butt!”
“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure if she was complaining or teasing him, and for a fleeting moment he was tempted to make a smart reply about her butt. But her Scottish burr made it impossible to read her tone, and he didn’t want to offend her. He moved away from the warmth of her leg, which was still connecting with his. She straightened and settled back in her seat. Her chin was propped in her hand on the arm rest between them as she continued to read the list over his shoulder.
“What were you going to add to my list?”
“I don’t know you, so I hope you won’t be offended.” She unclipped her belt, flipped back the arm of the seat, and slid across to the middle seat so she could get a better look at his screen.
“You have my interest,” he said waiting as the warmth of her bare shoulder pressed into his shirt. She concentrated for a moment, and he watched as her gaze flicked down his typed list before she placed her hand over her mouth and covered a giggle. “I’m sorry.” She snorted and then burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you’ve written a list. I don’t think I’ve ever written one in my life. So my suggestion would be to stop writing lists and start doing some of it!”
Tom leaned over and typed #11… stop making lists. He looked over at the woman sitting next to him, who was watching him closely. Her deep brown eyes were fringed by thick dark lashes and her expression still brimmed with mirth. The shadows around her eyes had faded a little after her nap. They had been in the air for four hours and she’d slept soundly the whole time.
“I hope I haven’t insulted you. I’m pretty good at doing that, or so my family tells me,” she said. “They say I should learn to think before I open my mouth.”
Tom snapped his laptop shut and leaned forward to put it in the laptop carry bag. He bumped his head on the back of the seat in front of him and had to bend sideways to retrieve the bag.
Christ, they made these seats for dwarves, not for six-foot-plus-tall men.
He turned his attention back to the woman when the laptop was safely stowed.
“No. No offense taken. Not at all. Maybe, as you suggest, I do need to lighten up a bit.” He looked back at her. “After all…it’s on the list.”
“Well, I’m the person to do it. And you have the pleasure of my company for another sixteen hours unless you are only going to Singapore?”
“No, I’m going all the way through to Rome.” He surprised himself by sharing information with a chance-met stranger. She loosened his tongue with her constant questions, and he’d quite enjoyed her banter about his list-making. “I’m going to Italy mainly for business.”
“So, let’s try again,” she said with a smile and held out her hand. “I’m Brianna.”
“Tomas.” He took her hand and held it a little longer than he normally would have, as unexpected warmth shot up his arm.
“So are you a businessman or holidaying?” Brianna pulled her hand out of his and reached over and touched his narrow navy-blue tie. “The suit and the computer. I had you picked for a business traveler when I saw you in the coffee shop. In fact, I’m surprised to see you slumming it back here in economy. You looked like you should be up front in business, not in cattle class.”
“Waste of money. Why pay thousands of dollars extra for a seat to get to the same destination for a glass or two of champagne.”
“Ah. I bet you work in finance.”
Another woman on the make. That’s the last thing he needed next to him for eighteen hours. It was time to pull back and stop acting like the “right balloon” she had pegged him as. He gave her a noncommittal nod. “And I have some work I must finish.”
He’d just put the laptop away, so he pulled out the newspaper he’d already read from back to front out of the seat pocket. He wasn’t worried about hurting the feelings of someone he’d never see again, and glanced across at her as he opened the newspaper and was surprised to see a huge grin plastered on her face. Her opinion of him was written in her expression.
“Okay, I’ll leave you in peace and stop the twenty questions.”
She slid back to the window seat and placed the headphones over her ears and reached forward to fiddle with the control of the small viewing screen on the back of the seat in front of her. Even though he’d ended the conversation, Tom decided he had been dismissed. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long flight…maybe he should have spent the extra and flown business class. He could afford it, but old habits died hard.
…
The voice of the captain announcing they were commencing the descent into Singapore roused Brianna from a deep sleep. She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands and pulled the earphones out. They’d slipped across her face and were now snagged in her hair.
“Damn,” she said softly. Tugging at them only made it worse. She tried to untangle the hair caught around the posts, but they snagged even more tightly. Glancing over at Tom, she was pleased to see he was awake and typing on the keyboard.
“Could I have some help here, please?”
Tom looked up from his screen and then closed the lid and slipped the computer into the seat pocket in front of him. He moved closer and lifted her hands away from the tangled hair and cable, and placed them in her lap.
“You let go, I’ll do it. You certainly have it tangled.”
“Ow,” she cried. He unwound a strand of dark hair from the cable on the earphones and she closed her eyes.
“Sorry, I’ll try to be gentle. Relax.”
Brianna leaned forward, and warm, gentle fingers brushed against her cheek. His hands smelled like citrus, and she smiled to herself as he tried to untangle the cord from her hair. She’d noticed his manicured nails when he was typing his list earlier.
“Move closer.”
She dropped her head lower and leaned across into his shoulder to help him. Peering down, she had a clear view of taut thighs encased in trousers with sharp creases and a pair of polished shoes, and a frisson of attraction skipped her heart rate up a notch.
“There you go.”
She sighed with relief when he handed her the earphones. After putting them back in the seat pocket, she ran her fingers through the loosened hair and tried to wind it back into her braid.
“Thank you so much.” She looked up and smiled at him. “For a while there, I was thinking I would be leaving the plane with them stuck in my hair. I’m overdue for a trim.”
She’d intended to get her hair cut in Sydney, but the letter and the rush to change her travel arrangements and book the flight to Rome had interfered with all her plans. Not that planning was one of her strengths. She’d been lucky the travel agent had been able to book her all the way to Lipari with ease. All she had to do now was not lose her itinerary. Luckily the Burrough Medical Service back home in Edinburgh had given her a year’s leave to finish her book, and she’d planned to stay in Australia for at least half of that. The deadline from the publisher was creeping closer every day and she’d started to panic. Most of her advance had been spent on travel, so she had to make the deadline. She’d need the rest of the money to sort out her current problem.
Hopefully this cottage on Lipari would have somewhere she could sit and write, and get her first draft finished and back to the publisher. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of that lonely unkempt grave back in Sydney. She’d managed not to think about it since she’d woken from her nap, and she sighed as the grief filled h
er chest. Brushing the tears away with the back of her hand, she glanced up and saw Tomas watching her. “Sorry, I was miles away. Did you say something?”
“Only that it would be a shame to cut your hair. It’s beautiful.”
“Are you hitting on me?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
“Certainly not.” His voice was frosty and he stared at her. “I don’t need to hit on women.”
She looked at him as he lounged back in the seat. His dark hair deepened his tanned skin and his cold gaze was fixed on her. An observer may have been fooled by the relaxed and casual position, but there was nothing casual in his unswerving observation of her. A flicker of discomfort shimmied down her spine.
“No matter. I won’t be insulted.” She forced her lips into an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Tom…is it okay if I call you Tom? Look, I was teasing. I grew up in a family with lots of brothers and male cousins, and I protected myself through childhood by tormenting them before they could get at me. I guess it comes naturally, and I usually lead with my mouth and then my brain kicks into gear.” She placed her hand on his arm and then pulled it back when he dropped his gaze down to it. His mouth was set in a cold, straight line.
“Look, I didn’t mean to insult you or be forward. If someone wants to hit on me, that’s flattering, but I expect honesty. And like I told you before, I always babble on too much. So if you want some peace and quiet on the next leg you can always change seats.” She pointed to the vacant seat across the aisle.
“There’s no need for that,” he said. “Besides, we’ve landed. We’re in Singapore.”
The wheels bounced onto the tarmac and she glanced out of the window to see the puff of smoke as the rubber hit the ground. Relief coursed through her body and all thoughts of Rosa, the inheritance, and her deadlines flew from her mind.