"As you like, but if the plane crashes, they'll mistake you for me."
"Ahhh," she says, rolling her eyes. "Your pretty face won't go lost in the ocean, don't worry." She winks at me, leaving me speechless. "Plus, the plane won't crash, at least not this one and not today.” She shakes her head.
"My pretty face?" I ask but she bursts out laughing and doesn't answer.
"You just heard that, didn't you?"
"Actually, I've heard everything, but I'd like to explore the ‘pretty face’ part," I say.
"A pretty face isn't everything in a man."
"I agree, but it's a bonus. What are the qualities he should have?"
"You know ... I'll leave you with the doubt," she says with another wink.
I must admit, the blonde girl is nice as well as beautiful. She intrigues me. Maybe this trip won't be so boring after all.
"Okay. Let's see what excuses you'll find later."
The expression on her face—a mixture of surprise and embarrassment—is fantastic.
"I'm Nate, by the way," I tell her, extending my hand.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Isabel," she says, shaking it. I feel a jolt at her touch. Her hands are soft, and I notice that she doesn’t have a ring on her finger.
"The pleasure is all mine, Isabel," I tell her, losing myself in her eyes.
She's bewitching me and she doesn't even realize it. Her skin is delicate, like silk.
We swap places and I try to relax, though my mind goes to her. Her eyes, her lips…
Stop thinking about what you can't have.
It seems that in the end, my life has come down to only the things I can't have. But maybe I can try. Who knows? I'd like to know Isabel better.
Chapter Three
Isabel
What have I done wrong in my life?
Seeing his eyes so close, so hypnotic, wasn’t intended. The damn guy sitting across from him couldn't have picked a worse time to recline his seat.
Nate.
He has a very virile, dominant voice. He’s used to giving orders.
Oh, and I'd gladly follow them.
Swapping places will prevent unpleasant accidents. I think I gave him the wrong impression. He also realized how clumsy I am.
I resume writing as Nate folds his arms, flexing his muscles and closing his eyes.
I pause to look at him for a moment.
He’s tall, much taller than me, with brown eyes, a perfect shave, and a very short haircut. He’s tanned and brawny ... maybe with some tattoos.
Who are you, Nate? A spy on a mission? A secret agent ready to save us? A surfer?
