Georgi is the only one who doesn’t reply. He keeps rubbing the outside of my leg, and as the seconds pass, I become aware of the scent of his cologne. It’s dark and warm, the same scent that unsettled me the night I had to seduce him. It pulls me back to the memory of how he made my breath catch with a single look.
That night, he was ready to take me to his hotel room and fuck me. He was attracted to me. I don’t know how he feels after everything that’s transpired.
Right now, Georgi is covered in bruises, but once he heals, he’ll be that man again. The one who was dangerously charming and ruthlessly confident about getting me in bed.
The thought makes butterflies riot in my stomach, and I quickly pull away from him.
Pushing my hair off my face, I glance at Simi, who’s still fast asleep.
I’m glad she’s getting a lot of rest. She needs it after what she went through yesterday.
“Better?” Georgi asks, drawing my attention to him.
Nodding, I move into a more comfortable position.
“I’ll take Simi so you can eat,” I tell Georgi, and when I reach for my daughter, he carefully hands her to me.
The movement wakes her, and when her eyes open, Georgi leans over the armrest and brushes a palm over her rosy cheek.“Sorry,malkata mi pritsesa. I didn’t mean to wake you, but food is here.”
The mention of food clears her mind of sleep.
The flight attendant glides down the aisle and releases the hidden walnut tray tables from the armrests, unfolding each one with practiced precision until they lock into place between the facing seats. She smooths crisp white linen across every table, letting it drape in perfect lines before she sets polished silverware, crystal glasses, and fine porcelain in place, turning the cabin into something closer to a private dining room than an aircraft.
Worry pours into my chest because I know Georgi is going to insist that I eat. Honestly, I’m starving, but…what if…
My thoughts are brought to a sudden halt when the attendant serves Adriano and Augusto first, and the rich scent of seared beef, warm bread, and butter drifts through the cabin.
Oh God.
I slap my hand over my stomach, a second before it betrays me with a loud growl. Heat rushes into my face, and I struggle not to look at the delicious food as she serves Mr. Torrisi and Raya before pausing beside us. A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face as she glances at Simi. “Shall I place both settings on one table, ma’am?”
“Just a plate for my daughter,” I reply. “And a roll for me.”
Georgi turns his head sharply to me and levels me with a look full of warning before he briskly orders, “Both plates on the one table.”
The attendant jumps into action, and as she places a plate with chicken schnitzel strips and truffle parmesan fries down, my daughter gasps with delight. She picks up a fry and happily pops it into her mouth while I lean into Georgi and whisper, “I don’t want food.”
His mouth comes close to my ear, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “God help me, Nina, you will eat! I don’t expect anything in return, but if you keep denying yourself this most basic need, I swear I will force-feed you myself in front of everyone.” He pulls back, enough to lock eyes with me. “Try me.”
My pulse kicks up a notch. There’s no softness in the order, only an iron control I’ve never experienced from him.
With everyone watching, I lower my eyes and give the smallest nod, reluctantly submitting.
“Good choice,” he mutters as he picks up his cutlery.
My plate is the same dish as his. My mouth salivates just looking at the herb-crusted filet medallions and roasted baby vegetables. There are also little baskets with fresh rolls and butter.
“Anything to drink?” the flight attendant asks.
“Just bottled water, please,” I answer quickly.
“Three juices,” Georgi mutters, sounding angry. I cringe into myself, and to make matters worse, he reaches over and begins to cut my filet into smaller pieces.
When he brings a slice of beef to my mouth, my face goes up in flames. “I’m going to eat!”
“Open,” he orders, the expression on his face telling me he’s out of patience.
My lips part, and as he feeds me, I feel a weird mixture of embarrassment and an aching sense of being cared for.
