Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(172)

The woman smiled. She was well put together with immaculate makeup and a dark navy suit. “It’s twelve hours.” She had a plummy English accent, one that Sasha knew meant she was wealthy and well educated. “There are bunks out the back if you need to rest.” She consulted her watch. “We’ll be eating in four hours. I can wake you if you want.”

“Thank you,” Sasha said. “That’s very kind.”

The brunette woman rested a hand on her arm. “Really I should be thanking you. I’m Philippa Wutherington but everyone calls me Pippa. I’m Thomas’s publicist.”

Pippa seemed very nice and polite, a far cry from the brash journalists like Kelly and Alicia who Sasha had worked with during her brief internship at Atomic magazine. Sasha found herself warming to the woman.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” she said. “Believe me, you’re doing me a favor, practically air lifting me out of Chicago.”

Pippa laughed. “Let’s agree we’re both helping each other out, shall we? You’ve left behind your life to help Thomas. I know he might not seem like the most gracious man in the world but trust me, he really appreciates it.” Pippa lowered her voice. “Actually, you’re the only woman he’s ever told me about.”

Sasha frowned. “What do you mean?”

Pippa crossed one of her long, slim legs over the other and leaned closer. She smelt of sandalwood. “I mean he doesn’t usually talk about the women he spends time with. But he talked about you. You made an impression.”

Sasha nodded. It was nice to hear but ultimately futile. Thomas didn’t seem like he would ever forgive her for her betrayal. He was a temperamental actor, used to getting his own way, not to mention having a dark history of being deceived and used. It must have wounded him deeply to find her with Chris like that.

The emotion of the day began to overwhelm Sasha. “I think I’ll go for that nap after all,” she said to Pippa.

“Good idea,” Pippa said calmly. “I’ll wake your for supper. I hope you like lobster.”

‘Lobster?’ Sasha thought. Could Thomas’s choice have been any more decadent? It reminded her of the way he’d ordered oysters for her at the restaurant. Clearly, he was a seafood fan.

Sasha stood. But the large glass of wine and the motion of the plane made her lose her footing. Pippa grasped her arm to steady her. Then suddenly, Thomas was standing on the other side of her.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Thank you,” Sasha said from one to the other.

Pippa nodded and let go. She sunk back down into her seat with a sideways glance at Thomas and Sasha.

Thomas’s arm was still clinging to Sasha’s arm. Bolts of desire raced through her from the place he touched.

“Are you okay?” he said.

She nodded. “I’m fine. The plane just made me slip. I was going to go for a nap.”

“Take my bed,” he said. “The bunks aren’t very comfortable.”

Sasha frowned. “Don’t you need it?”

“Not until after dinner,” he said.

“Okay…” Sasha replied tentatively.

Only then did Thomas remove his hand from her arm.

Sasha walked down the aisle. At the back of the plane were several bunks, three in a column and very narrow. Just past them was a door that led to Thomas’s room. Sasha entered.

The room was as grand as the suite in the Hilton hotel where they’d first made love. The bed was large and low to the ground. It had silk sheets, the sensation of which against her skin would always remind Sasha of Thomas.

As she pulled back the sheets, she realized that she didn’t have anything to dress in. She hadn’t brought any spare clothes with her at all. No possessions, just her purse. Pippa had assured her that they’d get everything she needed sent to the house on the island, but no one had seemed to consider the airplane journey.

With no other option, Sasha stripped and discarded her clothes on the floor. The carpet was cream and soft under foot. As she slid under the silky covers, she listened to the whirr of the airplane’s engines, and considered the surreal situation she had somehow found herself in.





Chapter Ten




At some point, she must have fallen asleep because the next thing Sasha knew, the door was opening and a shard of light burst into the room.

Sasha sat up abruptly, disorientated by her strange surroundings. “Pippa? Is that you?” she said.

Then she realized the silhouette in the doorway was Thomas’s.

Sasha pulled the covers up to her armpits as Thomas staggered in.

“Is it time for dinner?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Thomas replied. “I just drank too much.” His voice was slurred. He reached the bed and slunk onto it beside her. “Think I need to sleep it off.”