“You sure you’re not sneaking off to Los Angeles to get me a ring?”
He laughed once more. She’d been trying to get it out of him since the night he told her he’d wanted to take her to Vegas for the weekend. Even with her business meeting, she was hunting for clues of a proposal. Only his brother knew he planned to ask her to marry him this weekend. “I’m not going to Los Angeles to get a ring, but even if I were I would never tell you,” he said.
“You do realize that gives absolutely nothing away?”
He nodded, tapping her forehead lightly, then running his finger down to her nose. “I know,” he said, then nibbled on the end of her nose.
“Well, enough about rings. What’s in that box there you’re hiding by your leg?”
“You saw it?”
“My gift-spotting skills know no bounds.”
He handed her the turquoise-wrapped box with a white bow on it. She eyed the bow. “In case you want to tie me up on the plane, looks like we already have something to use.”
His dick twitched against the denim of his jeans. She was always on the same wavelength as he was. “I may need to tie up your hands as a reminder to bring your poker face to the meeting today.”
She gave him a sharp-eyed stare. “Do not ever doubt my poker face. It is masterful,” she said, as she tugged oneend of the ribbon, letting the white satiny bow fall across the shiny wrapping paper. Ripping off the paper, she popped open the top of the box, and there it was. That glow in her eyes. The absolute joy in receiving gifts. She was a delight to give presents to because she never faked her appreciation. Reaching inside the box, she wrapped her fingers around the necklace then gently lifted the long strand of pearls. “Oh my God, they’re stunning. They’re so fucking gorgeous.”
She draped the pearls over her hand, the long strands like waterfalls of smooth, rounded beads. She gazed at them like they were precious, a fitting response, since they were. “They’re real,” she said, with wonder in her voice as she looked up at him.
He nodded. “I would never give you something fake.”
“I’ve never had pearls before. I’ve never thought of myself as a pearl person.”
“Then let me show you how I want you to wear them, so you can see how absolutely fucking sexy a pearl person can be,” he said, standing up and making his way to his suitcase. He opened one of the zipper compartments where he’d tucked a dress for her, and brought it over. “Another gift. Put this on.”
He nodded. “Yes. Model it for me.”
“As you wish,” she said, standing up and glancing once at the cockpit. “What about the pilot?”
“I told him we’d be making full use of the plane and he said he’d have his eyes on the sky the whole time.”
“Then keep your eyes on me,” she said, looping the strand around her neck, then stripping off her skirt, letting it pool at her feet, her gaze locked on him the whole time. He watched her, growing harder with each layer she removed—now her shirt, then her lacy bra. He reclined the spacious leather seat, taking in the show, savoring every second of her undressing.