Page 67 of For the Love of Art

Another bump, but before I could close my eyes, Nathan said, “Look at me.”

He spoke in his business voice, the one that made everyone stop and look at him. Even as I faced imminent death from this piece of metal falling from the sky, I found his voice beyond sexy.

“Let’s see if I can get you to relax.”

Was he going to kiss me?

“Close your eyes.”

I did. My heart thundered, and I worried it was too loud to hear his instructions.

“Try and clear your mind.” His hands were moving up and down my arms, causing a chill to run through me. God, if they felt this good on my arms– “Focus on my voice.” I’m trying! “Think of somewhere you feel calm.”

I found myself in the gallery. It was empty, at least of people. The walls were bursting with art! Pablo Picasso, Frida Kahlo, Jackson Pollock, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and many more renowned artists of the 20th century. The artists who had every reason to believe that they were entering a totally new and unique modern age.

“Now breathe in– one– two–”

I twirled in a circle, smiling as I looked at the two distinct styles the century before offered- realism and abstract.

“Beathe out– one–two–” I followed Nathan’s instructions. “Breathe in again, one– two–”

Warm hands touched my shoulders. I turned, and in the sea of all the artists I studied and admired was a man I’d grown fond of. His grey eyes bore into mine as he pulled my hand up and kissed my palm. I tilted my chin as he slowly dipped his head and–

A loud banging caused us both to jump.

“Hey!” A woman’s voice came through loudly. “One person in the bathroom at a time!”

My cheeks burned, but Nathan simply stood and smoothed his t-shirt. He opened the door and stepped out to see a petite blonde woman with vibrant blue eyes accented by perfect winged liner.

“You know I could report you to the captain,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“Do you have proof we were doing anything untoward in that bathroom?”

“Well, I–”

“Look at my friend.” Nathan gestured to me, and I wanted to be sucked out of the plane. “It’s clear she’s having an acute anxiety attack, and I was checking on her well-being. If you want to report that to the captain, be my guest. But I’d keep in mind that I am Nathan Manning, and Manning Industries owns this airline.”

The woman’s mouth dropped open.

“We’ll take our seats now” –His eyes dropped to her name tag– “Liz.”

He took my hand and led me back to our seats, with Liz calling after us, “It’s Elizabeth!”

I could feel eyes on us, but as per usual, Nathan didn’t pay attention. Once in our seats, he took out his headphones and plugged them in, tapping on the screen in front of him.

He felt me looking at him because he turned his head and said, “What?”

“Did you just drop your own name back there?”

He chuckled. “Uh, yeah.”

“Your family doesn’t own Manning Industries anymore.”

Nathan shrugged. “She didn’t call my bluff.”

We both laughed.

“You feeling better?” Nathan asked.