Bride by Design: Flights of Fancy

Bride By Design: Flights Of Fancy (Taken By The Billionaire)

By

Alicia Roberts

Bride by Design: Flights of Fancy (Taken By The Billionaire)

Copyright 2012 by Alicia Roberts

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

Adult Reading Material

Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and above.

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Bride by Design: Flights of Fancy (Taken By The Billionaire)

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Lisa has just lost her job. Her career as an aspiring designer seems to be going nowhere and she doesn’t need any more complications in her life right now.

She especially doesn’t need a passionate encounter with her crush on a midnight flight from LA to New York. She doesn’t need him to pursue her, she doesn’t want to be confused about his motives, and she doesn’t want to get entangled in a world she knows nothing about.

But life has a strange sense of humor, and when her crush turns out to be billionaire real estate investor Colin Anderson, she finds herself enticed into a strange web of deceit…

Chapter One

What was he doing here?

I felt his eyes on me as soon as I sat down. A ripple of excitement and recognition coursed through my spine and I gave him a tiny smile before I put my head down and focused on my issue of Elle Décor.

Green Eyes. That was the name I’d chosen for him, ever since that first day when I saw him having lunch on a park bench. I sat a few benches away, and when he finished his lunch, he walked past me and I felt a strange tingling sensation when our eyes met. His hair was dirty blond, he was tall and tan. His smile was always mysterious, hinting that he knew what was on my mind.

I began having lunch there whenever I could, always sitting a few seats away from him, scared of flying too close to the sun. We never spoke, barely exchanged glances, but I looked for him during my lunch break and I was sure he looked for me. It had been the highlight of my day for the past few months.

And now he was sitting here, a few rows away, in the domestic departures lounge at LA airport. I’m going to ignore him, I thought nervously, and I turned a page of my magazine.

A young family walked up and occupied the seats opposite me. They were busy rearranging their belongings, their backpack zip had torn and they needed to put the contents away. The dad was trying to make sure the toddler didn’t start crying, and the mother was desperately trying to stuff things into her purse.

“Use this,” I said, offering the mother my folded-up duffel bag. I always carried it in my purse for emergencies, but now it looked like they needed it more than me.

I saw the relief in her face as she thanked me briefly and emptied the contents of the backpack.

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up, and immediately glanced down quickly. Green Eyes was walking towards me. Oh no. What was happening? Did I have spinach in my teeth, did I do something wrong? I stared into my magazine as if it was the most amazing thing on Earth, trying to ignore Green Eyes walking up to me with a strangely focused look on his face.

And then he was standing right next to me, and I could smell his scent, cedar and cinnamon and something musky. He bent down to my feet, and I heard him say, “Here, you dropped this.”

I looked up in surprise. He was holding my small notebook - it must’ve fallen out of my bag when I rummaged through it looking for the folded duffel.

I blushed and felt relieved. What did I think would happen?

“Uh, thanks,” I said shakily, smiling nervously. His voice was deep and melodious, and his eyes were crinkling with amusement.

I watched him turn around and walk away, my body surging with relief and disappointment.

Two airline staff were standing near the gate, and Green Eyes walked up to them. I saw him say something, and then I felt their eyes on me. Nervously, I looked down again and turned another page of the magazine. The three of them walked over to the counter, and after a few moments they all walked back.

“First Class passengers may now board flight UA418 to JFK Airport, New York.”

People sitting near me began to arrange their belongings in anticipation, as a small handful of people walked through the gates. Green Eyes was one of them - of course, he
would
travel first class, I thought, remembering my flight in to LA, squished into the tiny Economy Class seat and surrounded by screaming children and people with BO.

After a few minutes, the announcer declared that families with small children and loyalty club members could now board, and when the final announcement for the “rest of the passengers” came, I joined the long queue of people who came last in the airline’s priorities.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” said the uniformed lady when she looked at my boarding pass. “Could you come this way with me, please?”

My heart sank. This would
have
to happen to me - what was wrong, did they think I needed my luggage scanned again?

We walked up to the counter, and I felt the eyes of everyone in the queue on me.

“Could you show me your boarding pass and ID document please, ma’am?” Her voice was clipped, monotone and official.

I obliged, handing over the documents silently. I watched as she typed a few things into the computer. After what seemed like ages she looked up again and said in her official voice, “I apologize for the delay, ma’am. We’ve now upgraded you to First Class.”

It took a moment to sink in. “What?” I shook my head, no. “I’m sorry, there’s been some mistake. I never requested an upgrade. And I can’t pay for it.” And I wasn’t going to pay, I added to myself - I was already broke and every cent I had was accounted for. I braced myself for an argument.

She smiled, and I saw a flicker of curiosity in her professional eyes. “No ma’am. The upgrade is complimentary and everything has been done for you, just relax in First Class.”

Once more, the words didn’t make sense for a few seconds. And then I remembered Green Eyes talking to the staff, and wondered if he had anything to do with this. “Complimentary - from who?”

The lady smiled again, and this time her manner was completely official. “I’ve been instructed to let you know that you’ve been upgraded, compliments of the airline.”

I let the words roll around in my head - “I’ve been instructed to let you know”. What did that mean?

She handed me my new boarding pass, and escorted me to the front of the queue. I realized I wouldn’t get any answers, and I might as well take a stroke of good fortune when I could, instead of agonizing over the details.

Green Eyes was sitting in the first row and was busy checking something on his phone when I walked past. A stewardess rushed up and stowed my cabin luggage overhead, and I settled down into the wide, luxurious leather seat.

So this is First Class, I thought, and I’m finally sitting here instead of just walking past into the Economy section. There were only six seats, three on each side with a wide aisle space in between them. I was sitting in the last row, diagonally behind Green Eyes, which meant that I could see him but he couldn’t see me unless he turned around.

I love flying, but the past week had been exhausting, running around and visiting various homes in LA for my work. And now it was almost midnight, and I stifled a yawn, waiting for the plane to take off. I rummaged through the brochures in the seat pocket in front of me and found a menu. Although I hate airline food with a vengeance, the meals on this menu sounded like they belonged in an expensive restaurant, not on a domestic flight to New York. I smiled in anticipation.

My roommate, Katie, had waxed lyrical about the food and service in First Class.  She’d know - her boyfriend Jeff frequently took her to exotic destinations and they always flew first class. Of course, he was a douche, but that was a completely different issue…

The plane taxied along and finally lifted off with a whoosh. I was thrown back in my seat as I watched the lights of LA twinkle beneath us, forming pretty and intricate patterns, until we finally left them behind.

Once the plane had steadied, a stewardess brought the meals’ cart along. I watched as she fixed my folding table, and draped a white cloth over it.

I chose braised beef with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables, a glass of champagne, and a slice of tiramisu for dessert. The meal was as delicious as I’d hoped, served on white china with silver cutlery, and the tiramisu could hold its own against any New York bakery. I grinned as I finished my meal, wondering why they never served us tiramisu in Economy Class, and sipped on a second glass of white wine as the stewardess took away my used plates and folded away the table.

I might as well enjoy this, I thought, requesting another glass of white wine. The responsible part of my brain scolded me - you’re drinking far too quickly, she said. But I told her to shut up - the next day was Sunday and I might as well enjoy myself.

By the time the cabin lights were dimmed and the other passengers in First Class had adjusted their seats and lay tucked under airline blankets, I was overcome by a feeling of drowsiness and slight intoxication. I was beginning to regret having so many drinks - I’m normally the boring, conscientious kind of girl who avoids bars and alcohol, and the little bit I’d had was starting to get to my head.

I groaned internally. At this rate, I’d be asleep in a few minutes, and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my first and only First Class experience.

I saw Green Eyes stand up, and my sleepiness reduced a little bit. I tried to breathe steadily and think straight as he walked up to me. I hadn’t dropped anything, had I?

“Come with me,” he whispered, and grabbed my wrist. His fingers formed a tight ring, and my skin felt hot where he was touching me. He pulled me behind him till we were in the bathroom, which he locked behind us.

Even the bathroom is nicer in First Class, I thought hazily, looking around and noticing how large and pretty it was.

My eyes finally settled on his and I felt a thrill of the unknown. Why had I let him drag me in here?

He was smiling at me, and I wondered what to do. I’d always known that this guy was far too good-looking for me, and now I knew that he was also far too rich, and far too smooth for me.

His scent tickled my nostrils again, and I breathed in the cedar-ery, muskey smell. I realized that he was pressing me against the wall with one hand. His other hand was stroking a strand of my hair, and now he was running his fingers down my cheek.

“We’re finally here,” he whispered into my ear. “I’ve been thinking of you for so long.”

“Have you?” I asked stupidly.

He leaned back and looked at me, running his eyes up and down slowly. I felt a shiver as he took in everything, his eyes moving slowly and greedily, as if I was a meal he’d like to eat up. I was wearing a comfortable jersey maxi dress for the flight, and suddenly I wished I’d worn something sexier.

His hand moved up from my shoulder along my neck and into my hair. His fingers interlaced with my hair, and he pulled my head down, so I was forced to look up at him. His green eyes were sparkling with a dark need. He moved his head down to kiss me, his lips were almost on top of mine, when he moved back in an abrupt, surprised motion.

“How much have you had to drink?” His voice was soft and wary.

Oh shit. He was stopping now? I felt my face flushing and I muttered, “Just a bit.”

“And how drunk are you?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not drunk. Maybe a bit tipsy. High enough to want this. But not drunk enough that I don’t know what’s going on.”

His lip curved up slightly.

“And what’s going on?”

The question left me reeling. What was going on, why was I in an airplane bathroom with Green Eyes? The whole thing seemed unreal. I’d fantasized about Green Eyes often enough, but it was usually us in a bedroom somewhere, lying in soft silky sheets and devouring each other slowly. Certainly not whispering naughtily in a tiny bathroom. Was I being presumptuous, what did he want with me, a timid, mousy girl?

I reached out with one hand and touched his shirt, just below his shoulders. In my fantasies he was naked, but now he was wearing a white shirt and formal pants. I ran my hand down slowly - his muscles were rock hard and I felt my stomach tightening, knowing how muscular he was under that shirt, imagining him bare-chested.

I reached up and started to pull him down towards my mouth and then I stopped.

“Do I have bad breath?” Alcohol had loosened my inhibitions a bit.

Green Eyes laughed softly. “I had a bit to drink, too.”

He moved closer to me and began to run his lips slowly up the side of my neck.