Page 5 of Romancing Rayne

“Are you trying to get me into bed?”

“It worked well the first time.”

“Ghost!”

“What? You looked like you were ready to jump out of bed and bolt. I needed to think of something to keep you there.”

That wasn’t necessarily the truth. She had looked nervous, but I wanted to get to know her. At the time, it was selfish of me. I should’ve kept my distance, especially knowing I was leaving in the morning. But somewhere deep in my bones, I knew she was the one. I knew she belonged to me, only I wasn’t ready. As hard as it was, I’d stupidly thought I had to let her go.

“Fine. Let’s play your game,” she huffed.

I tried to think of a word to start with, but I was too distracted by the way Rayne was fidgeting in her seat. There was heat behind her stare, and I knew that look.

“Dream?”

Her cheeks blushed, and I knew I was on the right track. What in the hell had the little minx been dreaming of?

* * *

Rayne

I should’ve known nothing would slip by Ghost. I was having the most erotic dream when the plane dipped and shook me awake. Now I couldn’t get the images out of my mind.

“Mile high club.”

“Come again?” The shock on his face was priceless.

Being a flight attendant for as long as I’d been, I’d seen it all. Couples trying to discretely slip into the lavatory together or trying to conceal their very obvious movements under a thin airline provided blanket. Let’s just say those blankets were tossed rather than going back into circulation. Gross! I myself had never considered it, the thought of trying to get it on in a small, cramped space never sounded appealing, or sexy. However, the images my dream had provoked had me squeezing my legs together trying to get some relief.

“You heard me.”

“You horny, baby?” he whispered in his best Austin Powers impersonation, which sucked.

“Not anymore after that lame attempt at a joke.”

He pulled the blanket fully over my lap, and his hand stilled on my thigh.

“Not anymore, huh?”

“I thought we were playing a game,” I reminded him.

“We are. It’s your turn.”

I glanced out the small window, nothing but dark, puffy clouds as far as the eye could see.

“Storm?”

“Heathrow,” he replied then asked, “London?”

“My first one-night stand.” I laughed when his smile faded.

“Really?” he mocked. “I’m seeing a theme here.”

“What’s the . . .” The rest of my question died in my throat as Ghost’s hand traveled higher, stopping just shy of where I needed it to be.

His fingers continued to rub over my jeans when he leaned in closer and whispered, “My beautiful wife needs to be taken care of.” The rumble of his voice sent goose bumps racing down my arms.

He wasn’t wrong, but we still had an hour before we landed and another hour after that before we’d be alone.