The Billionaire's Masquerade (The Friendship Series) (14 page)

“Sorry,” she whispered and scrambled out of his arms.

“My pleasure,” he replied and leaned back in his chair.

Rachel ignored him for the rest of the flight, uncaring that he had to adjust slightly in his seat. She was having just as much trouble getting her body back under control although her problem was a bit less obvious.

The plane flew over cities but Rachel wasn’t educated enough on topography to know where they were going. She didn’t even know if they were flying north, south or west although she was fairly certain they weren’t going east which would take them over the Atlantic. There was definitely land underneath them so that eliminated Europe.

Instead of asking, which she suspected Emerson wanted her to do, she simply pulled up her computer and worked on the report he’d asked her to create for him. She didn’t listen to him as he spoke softly on the phone although she did hear enough of his conversation to ascertain that he wasn’t speaking to another woman. Thankfully, and she didn’t question why she cared, but the topic was still business related so she was then able to tune it out and focus only on analyzing the data she’d obtained and figure out the best plan of action to recommend to him.

Not that he would agree with her, she thought with resentment. Everything she’d given him over the past month had been wrong with only moments of “non-wrongness”. At those times, he simply nodded in her direction and moved on to the next issue. No compliment, no thanks for getting the job done quickly or efficiently or accurately. Not even acknowledgement of her effort.

“Excuse me,” she said, snapping her laptop closed so she could move to the bathroom. She didn’t want him to peek at her analysis until she’d finished it so she made sure that the password was shutting out prying eyes.

When she emerged, she found Emerson standing at the front of the plane, chatting with Emily and the pilot, Darren, all three of them laughing. Unfortunately, they stopped when she came into the main section of the plane, just as had happened earlier when Emerson had been laughing with Lilly at his penthouse. She was becoming mightily sick of that reaction whenever she came around.

“We’re about to start our decent,” the pilot was saying a moment before he disappeared back into the cockpit. “We should be on the ground in less than ten minutes.”

Emerson’s eyes looked over at Rachel, evaluating how she was doing. He wished she would take a nap, get some sleep so those dark circles under her eyes would fade away. But he’d driven her too hard this past month. He just prayed that he could get her back over the next few days.

He’d been right. She could handle the life, but would she want to go back? Was she too tired to deal with working on Wall Street? Or had she loved it?

Unfortunately, he’d taught her to hide her emotions, to suppress everything but the mission, to not let anyone see any kind of weakness.

Damn if she hadn’t learned that lesson extremely well. Hell, she’d learned everything extremely well.

He watched with both concern and irritation as she slipped back into the leather seat, buckling her seatbelt as if she weren’t terrified out of her mind. He knew she hated flying and he desperately hoped that this might be their last flight. If only she would choose….

No, he could only show her. In the end, she had to make the decision herself. He suspected she was miserable, but he didn’t want to push her into something she didn’t sincerely want. No matter how much he wanted her in his life.

Ten minutes later, Darren had landed the plane smoothly and they were taxiing to the hangar. Emerson had been watching Rachel the entire time, noting her pale skin and lips, the whiteness in her knuckles. She’d done a good job of hiding it, but he knew her better, knew what to look for. The signs were subtle, but his heart still ached to hold her and help her through the landing.

He stood up, preparing to disembark. “Ready?” he asked, extending his hand towards her.

“Yes. Thank you.” She ignored his outstretched hand and moved towards the now open hatch, ignoring the look in his eyes that might have been pain if Emerson actually felt any pain.

She was about to descend, but she suddenly turned around and looked back up at the pilot. “Thank you for such a soft landing,” she said to him with a grateful, genuine smile.

She turned back around, so she didn’t see the startled expression on Darren’s face or his wife’s as she and Emerson went down the stairs. Nor did she hear Darren whisper to his wife, “What happened to the Ice Queen?” Or his wife’s response, “She’s just afraid of flying.”

Rachel didn’t see the look of understanding and compassion that the two shared since she was slipping out the side door of the hangar with Emerson right behind her. She still wasn’t sure what was going on, but they weren’t in New York so the day was bound to be better than expected.

Rachel looked around at the nondescript airplane hangar, seeing several people moving forward who looked like maintenance personnel. “You still haven’t told me why we’re here or even where ‘here’ is.”

Emerson put a hand to the small of her back, guiding her towards the parking lot. “Yes I did. I said you’re going to learn the other side.” He almost chuckled when she tried to move away from his touch, but he wasn’t letting her get away with that. He touched her arm and pulled her back to him, smothering his need when she shivered at his touch just like she always did.

She didn’t understand, but she realized from the expression on his face that he wasn’t going to tell her either. “Okay. Lead on,” she said with resignation.

Emerson pushed the door open and Rachel gasped when she immediately smelled the sea air. “Are we in Maine?” she asked almost reverently.

“Yes,” he told her with a sight grin. Emerson watched her beautiful features carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to being back in Cape Elizabeth. He didn’t want to push, but he was pretty sure she wasn’t happy with life in New York.

“Come on,” he said and led her towards a jeep parked near the corner of the building. It was a beautiful, new Jeep and he lifted her into the seat even though he didn’t really need to. He just liked touching her and it had been a long time since she’d let him do anything more than simply kiss her goodnight.

“Thanks,” she whispered, feeling his hands hesitate to move away from her waist. A part of her wanted him to keep his hands right where they were, warm against her skin. And then another part of her pulled back, too afraid of what she was feeling or the next surprise by this man. She turned quickly, facing forward so he didn’t see the need his touch had ignited within her.

He smiled slightly, recognizing the signs but trying to go slowly. Instead of pressing the issue, he moved around to the driver’s side. “We have an important stop to make before we do anything else,” he told her and pulled out of the parking space.

Rachel watched his strong, competent hands on the steering wheel, fascinated by his fingers. She remembered the nights when those fingers touched her skin, exploring her body and driving her mad with need.

She sighed and pulled her eyes away from his hands, forcing her mind to think of something else. She couldn’t trust him. She had no idea who he was and what he was like underneath the Emerson façade. He was a stranger. A fascinating, amazingly sexy and alluring stranger, but she could resist. She had to.

Portland, Maine wasn’t nearly as densely inhabited as New York or even the Washington, D.C. area. It would take about forty minutes to get out of the airport in either of those metropolitan cities. But here, they spun out of the parking lot and were almost immediately on the highway into the city. They actually had left New York so early in the morning that they were now about to hit Portland’s rush hour. But commuter traffic in Portland meant that there was probably someone in front of you and beside you, and most likely behind you, but one didn’t need to slow down. She hadn’t driven in New York but in Washington, D.C., if one wanted to drive from approximately three o’clock in the afternoon until after seven o’clock in the evening, they needed to be prepared to face a parking lot on just about any street or highway they ventured onto. The same went for the morning rush hour which lasted from six o’clock in the morning until after ten o’clock each day. It was horrible! Sometimes traffic jams even happened at lunch time or in the middle of the afternoon if one were on interstate sixty-six or ninety-five. Los Angeles traffic was famous for coming to a standstill, but that also happened around the beltway of Washington, D.C. It was miserable.

But in Portland? Despite the fact that people were moving around them, hurrying off to their jobs, they were still traveling at the posted speed limit, zipping along towards the downtown area. It was one of the beautiful things about this city. It was very metropolitan, but not so painfully crowded that a person had to adjust one’s schedule based on traffic patterns.

Unfortunately, Emerson wasn’t heading across the bridge to Cape Elizabeth. In fact, he was slowing down, heading towards the main street that edged the heart of the city. “What’s going on?” she asked nervously when Emerson pulled into a parking lot that could hold no more than three or four cars and was located behind a crazy blue building with curious murals along the outside wall.

“Breakfast,” he said and shut off the Jeep.

He came around to her side of the car and opened her door, waiting patiently for her to get out. “Why are we eating here?” she asked nervously but she slid out of the leather seat, prepared to follow him just like she’d done in New York.

“Because you’ve lost too much weight and the best place to start your next lesson is in The Holy Donut shop.” He raised an eyebrow when she hesitated.

“Donuts?” she asked, trying to hide her horror. She was proud of the fact that she didn’t cringe at the mention of the sugary treat but she really hated donuts. They were one of those desserts that promised so much but were always such a disappointment. “They aren’t very nutritious. Why don’t you grab what you want and I’ll just…”

He took her hand and pulled her along behind him. “Come on. These aren’t your normal donuts,” he explained. “These are potato donuts. That makes them good for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t see her since he was still dragging her along behind him. She could just grab a cup of coffee while he grabbed his precious donut, and the additional caffeine, which would help a lot. She hadn’t been able to drink the cup he’d handed her earlier this morning since she’d been too nervous about the flight. Not to mention, she’d been living off of coffee for the past several weeks, trying to stay alert enough in all of the meetings while still maintaining the brutal schedule he’d set out for her “training”.

They waited at the end of the long line and Rachel was surprised that so many people were here. It wasn’t like the donut shop was on one of the main thoroughfares. It was definitely out of the way but people were buzzing around the quirky shop, laughing and devouring donuts and coffee. She didn’t understand it. These were even cake donuts which she really despised because they were dry and crumbly. Ick, she thought but worked hard to keep her face blank.

“What’ll I get for you today, Jack?” the man behind the counter asked.

“We need four of the Coffee Allen Brandy donuts and two large coffees,” Emerson said to the friendly man behind the counter.

Less than thirty seconds later, he was walking away with a bag full of donuts and handing her one of the cups filled with coffee. “You can get milk and sugar over there,” he told her but moved off to one of the tables that had just been vacated. “Grab some napkins while you’re there,” he called out to her.

She grabbed two napkins and poured milk and sugar into her coffee, then followed him to the table. She was just going to sit back and watch the other patrons in the store, but her eyes kept moving to Emerson’s face. No matter how much she wanted to ignore him, she couldn’t seem to do it.

And that was before she’d caught the look of ecstasy on his handsome features with almost every bite. “Why are you doing that?”

He shook his head, breaking off another piece of the donut. “Can’t explain it,” he replied and took another bite. He pushed the bag of donuts towards her, silently telling her to try one.

She was proud of how well she refrained from grimacing. “No thanks. I’m not a donut person.”

He shrugged one of his massive shoulders and took the bag back. “You’re loss,” he told her and finished off the first one only to grab a second.

When he went through the whole process again, she couldn’t resist trying the donut. She didn’t realize it, but Emerson had stopped eating to watch her reaction. And he wasn’t disappointed. She took just a small bite, not really interested. And then the taste hit her and her eyes widened. “I told you,” he smirked.

Rachel was too amazed to be irritated by his comment. She took another, larger, bite, enjoying the moist taste of the donut. “What’s in this?” she asked, using her fingers to break it apart, as if she might see some magical ingredient.

“Just what I told you several minutes ago. They add potatoes to their batter; it makes them more moist. And lots of sugar,” he explained, winking when she blushed.

She leaned forward, digging into the donut and enjoying the experience. Not only was the donut moist and delicious, the frosting was…amazing! There was a sweetness to it, but the obvious taste of the brandy as well. She’d never tried anything quite so sweet and yet not overwhelming.

When he started to reach for the last donut, she smacked his hand away. “You bought that for me,” she told him forcefully.

“Says who?” he countered, laughter lurking in his eyes.

She grabbed the bag and clasped it closer to her body while she finished off the first donut. “You said I’d lost too much weight. You’ve already had two so the last one is mine.” If Nikki or Brianna could see her fighting over a donut, they would be holding their stomachs laughing.

Emerson also laughed outright at her logic but leaned back and watched her eat the rest of her donut, sipping his coffee. When she could only eat half of the second one, she placed it back into the bag and sighed happily. “Oh my, that was delicious. I’m sorry I doubted you.”