Bedded by Her Bodyguard
Chapter 1
Mindy Sanders woke to find her forehead pressed against hot male skin.
The clean scents of soap and nautical themed cologne enveloped her. Oh, God…she must have fallen asleep and accidentally snuggled into the cozy spot between her travel companion’s warm neck and broad shoulder.
Snapping straight in the airplane seat, she quickly checked the corners of her mouth for dampness. God forbid she’d drooled on the man’s expensive suit. Although she couldn’t possibly be the first woman to drool over Isaac Atlas. Having endured the New York City media circuit during her mother’s parties where attractive men were in abundance, she’d never met a guy so completely secure in himself. He had every reason to be—with those pitch black eyes that absorbed a woman until she forgot her own name. And the way he carried himself, with innate confidence that made lesser men squirm. He walked into a room and people paused just to notice him. A spectacular specimen of the male species, he drew appreciation wherever he went.
“Good morning.” Isaac’s sexy grin compounded her embarrassment.
Her cheeks burned. “Sorry about that.”
“I didn’t mind.” When his dark gaze lingered on her for a long unsettling moment, her insides tightened with a spiral of attraction. Her mouth parted, and his glance dropped to focus on her lips. An electric awareness sizzled between them, and she wondered if the heat in his eyes was real or if she was imagining things.
A flight attendant stopped by, leaning a little too close as she rested her hand on his shoulder, her breasts directly in his line of sight. Apparently no woman was immune to his swarthy good looks. The brunette had a lilting French accent when she asked him, “May I freshen your beverage?”
“No, I’m fine.” He turned to Mindy. “Need anything?”
“A bottled water would be great.”
The attendant barely acknowledged her request. “Please let me know if you need anything, Monsieur Atlas. I am at your service.”
“Thanks, I will.” Unaffected by her attention, he casually returned to reading a case study in the low lights of the cabin. The study lay on top of a stack of printed pages and news articles detailing the Markov’s business. Probably refining his sales pitch that was already stellar.
Whereas she was going into this international sales attempt completely blind. That kind of pressure had never made her mother buckle. On the contrary, Helen Sanders thrived when tensions were high. Mindy wished she could be half the professional barracuda her mother was. She tried to think back on suggestions Helen had offered her when she’d graduated from NYU and entered the working world as a public relations specialist. The only one that sprang to mind was Helen’s sharp voice saying, “Take ‘em by the balls and don’t let go until you get the answer you want.”
Well, that advice wouldn’t help in her current situation. In fact, when she’d told Helen she was leaving for Russia on a business trip with her company’s director of sales, she learned her mother had been a young journalist reporting on international politics toward the end of the Cold War. Her mother had been extradited from Russia for her big mouth, relentless tenacity, and snooping behind the Iron Curtain. Mindy hoped Helen’s brazenness wouldn’t impact her and Isaac entering the country. That would be the worst case scenario. The name association with her mother was often a curse more than a blessing, and she always felt people were comparing her to Helen in every aspect, especially her media success. Or lack thereof.
When the plane suddenly bucked, she gripped the armrests. Isaac’s soda leaped out of the cup and ice scattered. She tossed him a stack of napkins leftover from dinner and helped him mop up the mess before it spilled onto his suit. Their fingers brushed in passing, and she noticed his long tanned fingers looked strong and competent compared to her small pale trembling hands. The airplane shook and bounced in the air three times, then settled as they dipped lower in the sky.
“I hate turbulence.” It set her teeth on edge. “I’ve never spent fourteen hours straight on a plane in my life, and I’m so ready to land.”
“I know it’s a long flight.” A worry line formed between the bold, dark slashes of his eyebrows as his glance swept over her face. “I should’ve taken that into consideration when I booked the dinner meeting for tonight. A casual get-to-know-you, but still you can’t be expected to be at the top of your game after twenty seven hours of travel.”
“As long as I don’t feel like I’m on a rollercoaster thirty thousand feet in the air, I’ll be okay.”
Mindy Sanders woke to find her forehead pressed against hot male skin.
The clean scents of soap and nautical themed cologne enveloped her. Oh, God…she must have fallen asleep and accidentally snuggled into the cozy spot between her travel companion’s warm neck and broad shoulder.
Snapping straight in the airplane seat, she quickly checked the corners of her mouth for dampness. God forbid she’d drooled on the man’s expensive suit. Although she couldn’t possibly be the first woman to drool over Isaac Atlas. Having endured the New York City media circuit during her mother’s parties where attractive men were in abundance, she’d never met a guy so completely secure in himself. He had every reason to be—with those pitch black eyes that absorbed a woman until she forgot her own name. And the way he carried himself, with innate confidence that made lesser men squirm. He walked into a room and people paused just to notice him. A spectacular specimen of the male species, he drew appreciation wherever he went.
“Good morning.” Isaac’s sexy grin compounded her embarrassment.
Her cheeks burned. “Sorry about that.”
“I didn’t mind.” When his dark gaze lingered on her for a long unsettling moment, her insides tightened with a spiral of attraction. Her mouth parted, and his glance dropped to focus on her lips. An electric awareness sizzled between them, and she wondered if the heat in his eyes was real or if she was imagining things.
A flight attendant stopped by, leaning a little too close as she rested her hand on his shoulder, her breasts directly in his line of sight. Apparently no woman was immune to his swarthy good looks. The brunette had a lilting French accent when she asked him, “May I freshen your beverage?”
“No, I’m fine.” He turned to Mindy. “Need anything?”
“A bottled water would be great.”
The attendant barely acknowledged her request. “Please let me know if you need anything, Monsieur Atlas. I am at your service.”
“Thanks, I will.” Unaffected by her attention, he casually returned to reading a case study in the low lights of the cabin. The study lay on top of a stack of printed pages and news articles detailing the Markov’s business. Probably refining his sales pitch that was already stellar.
Whereas she was going into this international sales attempt completely blind. That kind of pressure had never made her mother buckle. On the contrary, Helen Sanders thrived when tensions were high. Mindy wished she could be half the professional barracuda her mother was. She tried to think back on suggestions Helen had offered her when she’d graduated from NYU and entered the working world as a public relations specialist. The only one that sprang to mind was Helen’s sharp voice saying, “Take ‘em by the balls and don’t let go until you get the answer you want.”
Well, that advice wouldn’t help in her current situation. In fact, when she’d told Helen she was leaving for Russia on a business trip with her company’s director of sales, she learned her mother had been a young journalist reporting on international politics toward the end of the Cold War. Her mother had been extradited from Russia for her big mouth, relentless tenacity, and snooping behind the Iron Curtain. Mindy hoped Helen’s brazenness wouldn’t impact her and Isaac entering the country. That would be the worst case scenario. The name association with her mother was often a curse more than a blessing, and she always felt people were comparing her to Helen in every aspect, especially her media success. Or lack thereof.
When the plane suddenly bucked, she gripped the armrests. Isaac’s soda leaped out of the cup and ice scattered. She tossed him a stack of napkins leftover from dinner and helped him mop up the mess before it spilled onto his suit. Their fingers brushed in passing, and she noticed his long tanned fingers looked strong and competent compared to her small pale trembling hands. The airplane shook and bounced in the air three times, then settled as they dipped lower in the sky.
“I hate turbulence.” It set her teeth on edge. “I’ve never spent fourteen hours straight on a plane in my life, and I’m so ready to land.”
“I know it’s a long flight.” A worry line formed between the bold, dark slashes of his eyebrows as his glance swept over her face. “I should’ve taken that into consideration when I booked the dinner meeting for tonight. A casual get-to-know-you, but still you can’t be expected to be at the top of your game after twenty seven hours of travel.”
“As long as I don’t feel like I’m on a rollercoaster thirty thousand feet in the air, I’ll be okay.”