Trust In Us. AlTonya WashingtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
dating service at local and national government levels, or so it was rumored. Additionally, the woman ran her business like a...well...like a business, with salary and benefits for employees—female and male.
Myrna thought it was all absurd, hence her suppressed, knowing smile. “Guess we’re about ready to take off.” She noted the limo driver passing off her luggage to a member of the baggage staff. “Of course, we’re still one short.” She spared another glance across the tarmac.
Jeena rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
* * *
“Ah...dammit,” Alythia said in disgust.
She had hoped taking her car, as opposed to hiring a driver, might play into her excuse of bad traffic, which would have resulted in her missing out on the luxurious flight.
But to her dismay, she arrived at the airstrip to find the plane still waiting. A chorus of birds were chirping somewhere amid the late-morning air as if they meant to welcome her to fun and excitement. Alythia appreciated the welcome but all the while considered circling back to the interstate in hopes of getting caught up in a traffic jam—a tad unlikely at that time of day, but who knew? It all could work in her favor and she might get—
“Can I help you with those?”
Alythia turned, her jaw dropping while her eyes zoned out in a show of surprise.
“Lucky.” She breathed the completion of her thought aloud.
She wasn’t sure if the man who stood within touching distance had sparked such a reaction because of his height. She stood just shy of five-ten in her bare feet, but this guy had to be six-two at least. Sure, it could’ve been the height or the muscular build—more lean than massive. Alythia was more inclined to wager on the man’s remaining attributes.
Whoever he was, he had the most remarkable shade of skin, an unblemished tone of black coffee. The richness was offset by a long, steady brown gaze enhanced by overt gold flecks. His hair was straight textured and close-cropped. Thanks to the morning’s powerful sunrays, Alythia could tell that his hair was of the same deep brown as his eyes.
He was smiling and the curve of a beckoning sculpted mouth was made more attractive by the singular dimple accompanying it. Still, that stare of his was impossible to ignore and difficult to perceive as anything other than intensely observant. His gaze also lent a well-blended mixture of heat and cool to his smile.
“Are you okay?”
She heard him speaking to her, his smile carrying more heat when he leaned close to ask how she was. He extended a hand as if he meant to cup her elbow but barely let his thumb graze the bend of her arm.
Alythia ordered—no, begged—the sudden and completely uncharacteristic desire to moan to cease and desist with the pressure it applied to her larynx.
“I, um— I’m good,” she managed, and then followed up the lie with a laugh. “I was good before I got here and saw that my ride was kind enough not to leave without me.”
He roared into laughter, the sound causing Alythia to jump at the full honesty of it. Despite the contagious effect of the reaction, she winced when he looked her way.
“Sorry, I know I sound ungrateful,” she said.
Curiosity intermingled with his amusement. “Why do you think you’re ungrateful?”
“Most people dream of visiting the Caribbean.” She looked toward the jet once more. “Of those who have actually had those dreams come true, few get there on a private plane.”
“Um, could I take that stuff for you?” he inquired of her bags again before the dumbfounded amusement on his face started to make her feel uneasy.
“Sorry. Um...” Aly began to relinquish her bags. “Thanks for your help— Oh, wait.”
Easing the strap of a tan duffel over his shoulder, he watched her fumble through a plump midsize purse.
“Dammit...I knew I had a five or ten in here....”
“Hey.” He cupped her elbow that time. “There’s no need to tip me.”
Alythia blinked toward the plane. “I’m pretty sure you guys are way behind schedule because of me.”
“We’ll get there.” He voiced the soft reassurance while applying a light massage to the elbow he cupped. “They aren’t gonna leave without you.” He winced a little against the sun in his eyes when he glanced at the plane. “This is a vacation. No clocks. Say it. ‘No clocks.’”
“No clocks.” Alythia nodded in a hypnotic manner while repeating the phrase that sounded like heaven. “No clocks.” She gave in to a smile that demanded to be seen.
Clarity surged in the liquid chocolate of Gage Vincent’s stare and he realized that the woman standing before him had no idea that the plane was his or who he was for that matter.
He dipped his head to peer into Alythia’s eyes and observed her that way for several seconds. He nodded, evidently satisfied that her outlook was improving and more than a little captivated by the stunning shade of her gaze. He then took four of her five bags, effortlessly hoisting the straps across his shoulders and angling one at his neck.
Alythia held on to an overnight case—the smallest of the five. Her smile brightened in approval of the button-down shirt he wore. The short sleeves revealed the flex and ripple of well-toned muscle accentuated by the flawless café noir of his skin.
“Shall we?” He motioned her ahead with the hand secured about the handle of a boxy brown-and-beige case.
“Do you think your boss will be a jerk about me holding up the party?” Alythia asked once they were crossing the tarmac toward the waiting plane.
“You’re good.” He paused. “The man’s a sucker for women. Especially women who look like you.”
“Thank you.” Her words were delivered coolly enough even though his remark had threatened to halt her stride. “Um...will you be on the flight or...?”
“You’ll see me around.” He halted at the foot of the mobile stairway.
“Thank you.” Aly made no secret of the fact that she was attempting to memorize his face before she headed on up the steps leading into the plane.
Gage’s smile went from friendly to smoldering within seconds of Alythia’s exit. He thought her legs seemed to go on forever beneath the airy white skirt that flared above her knees. She wore an emerald racer-back tank that matched strappy sandals that added emphasis on trim ankles and shapely calves. Not until one of the actual baggage handlers interrupted his survey to ask for the cases did Gage look away.
Chapter 2
Gage inclined his head a fraction as though he were attempting to obtain a better view of what he was observing. Absently, he moved the back of one hand across the sleek whiskers that had just started to shadow the strong curve of his jawline. He’d probably have a full beard by the end of the trip, he mused, still staring fixedly at the screen of his MacBook Air.
The golden flecks lurking in the liquid brown of his gaze seemed to sparkle more vividly. He was putting forth a more diligent effort to view the small square footage of space in the same light as the man he videoconferenced with did.
“Sorry, Clive...it’s just not working for me,” he said, at last accepting defeat.
“That’s because you’re not seeing it through a tourist’s eyes.” Clive’s voice rippled out through the laptop’s speakers.
“I resent that.” Gage put up an obviously phony show of being insulted. “I’m as much of a tourist as the next man.”
“Woman,” Clive corrected. “You also need to see this place through the eyes of a woman.”
Clive’s robust and