Page 26 of On The Edge

I take a moment to try and regain my wits. This conversation has been rambling and amusing and, just when I think we’re going to actually touch on a topic of importance and stay there, Cruz diverts with his humor and boyish grin. It’s maddening at best and amusing at worst.

I look at myself in the mirror. At my blond hair with the slight wave to it. At my pale green eyes and thick dark lashes that have always been a joke in my house. How does a blonde have dark lashes? At my peaches and cream complexion and pink pout of a mouth.

Am I pretty? I’d like to think so, but I’m not winning any beauty contests and I sure as hell look the polar opposite from the women on Cruz’s arm I saw in pictures last night.

Why do you keep fixating on this? Sell the lie. Even when you feel like he’s out of your league, sell the lie. And enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Isn’t that what this comes down to? Isn’t that why you took this chance? To have the experience? To network so I can jump a couple of steps up the corporate ladder and into some large branding firm in the next couple of years?

I draw in a deep breath and look at myself one last time. Stop the doubt. Own the moment. “There is no time like the present,” I murmur.

But when I emerge from the restroom, Cruz is now in my seat. What game is he playing now?

Better than give him the reaction I bet he’s going for, I decide to walk right past him and into his seat without saying a word. But I’m about a foot past him when his arms close around my waist and he pulls me into his lap.

I yelp in surprise as my ass hits one of his thighs and my legs spill out and over the opposite side of the chair. I’m sitting crossways on his lap and in that split second between surprise, it turns into awareness. An awareness of every hard, corded line of his body. The dents and the ridges pressed against me as he wraps his arms around me. The strength in his hands as he spreads one of them on one thigh and the other across the side of my torso.

But it’s his face that has me hitching my breath. It’s nearness to mine. The warmth of his breath on my lips. The spark of gold in his amber eyes. The hint of a smile that challenges me as his hand moves up my thigh to lock around my wrist and hold me in place.

“What—” The word sounds breathless and so I stop myself and clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes never leaving mine as he clearly contemplates something. And as he contemplates, I am in complete and total awareness of every single part of our bodies that are touching.

“For the record, I don’t have a type,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up.

“Great. Good to know.” My words are clipped and my body is taut.

“Is it? Because you seem awfully tense.” Amusement dances in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I state when I’m far from fine. My pulse is racing and my body is flush with heat. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Me. Him. This sudden feeling of want when I don’t even know this man.

Mellie walks toward the cockpit with refreshments in her hand for the pilot before placing fresh drinks in front of us.

I absolutely freeze as she wipes up the condensation because Cruz is holding me on his lap like this is an everyday occurrence.

“Mellie?” he asks as she starts to walk away.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Can you please give us some privacy for a bit?” he asks.

“Yes, Mr. Navarro,” she says as she slides a door shut between the galley and the cabin space.

What the hell do we need privacy for?

Nerves rattle even more.

“We’re going to have to work on that,” he murmurs against my ear, causing goosebumps to chase over my skin.

“On what?”

“You not freezing up any time someone is near. If you’re going to sell it, we have to sell it. The last thing I want to do is not seal this deal because you couldn’t like me enough to show it.”

Like him enough? The man is . . . Jesus, he’s walking perfection. It’s more the opposite. In this very short exchange, I’m slightly afraid I might end up liking him too much.

“I didn’t freeze up.”

“No?”