Tempting the New Boss(62)

“I can’t let you. That’s not who I am.”

He rounded on her. “Then come back to New York with me. Or we’ll go to London. Take that meeting. You say you can’t just drop your career, so don’t drop it. I never asked you to. You’re my lawyer. At least give that a chance. Try the job out. You worked in a firm before. How do you know you wouldn’t love being in-house?”

“Believe me, even if I did, there’s a rule against sleeping with the boss. You can’t. I can’t.”

“I’ll leave you alone. I won’t try to, we don’t have to—”

“That would never work.”

“You’re leaving without notice.” He straightened, taking his hands out of his pockets to fold them across his chest, his stance wide and his tone unmistakably boss, not lover. “Even Shreeman stayed until I hired his replacement. I have ongoing deals continuously. You’re going to quit on the spot? That’s not very professional.”

Her mouth thinned. “I think I’ve gone way beyond not being professional, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. We’ve had one meeting and you did fine. I have a dozen more scheduled in the next few weeks. Stick with me before you disappear to do your thinking, at least until I can hire a new lawyer.”

She let out a sigh, leaning back in the armchair. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes. And then you can decide what to do. Take the time you want and we’ll…see.”

She rubbed her forehead. “We can’t sleep together then. Not if you want me to stay on for two weeks or however long you need to hire someone. I mean it. That just does not work.” When he made no response, she called his name.

“I heard you.” He uncrossed his arms, one hand tangling in his hair as he glanced at the bed, and then went to the door. “The van is coming to take us and the pilots to the Halifax airport in an hour. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Wait!” she said quickly, ignoring the softening of his features, as if he expected her to call him back to that bed. “I don’t know if I can get on a plane right now.”

He turned away. “It’s statistically virtually impossible for us to get in a crash a day and a half after we almost got in one.”

“Very comforting,” she whispered when he was gone.



Mason didn’t say a word to her when she got into the van, and though Boyd and Ray seemed to sense the more sober mood, they greeted her heartily, making jokes about getting on a plane again.

As they drove to Halifax, she commented, “It’s bad enough to be a passenger again so soon, but I wouldn’t think you’d want to get behind the wheel, or whatever the equivalent is in a plane right now. Don’t you ever get a day off, to just chill and recover?”

“We’re deadheading,” Boyd said. She was beginning to be able to tell them apart. Though they had similar short, light hair and coloring and height, Boyd was a little older than Ray and had hazel eyes instead of green.

This morning neither of them were in uniform, sporting navy turtlenecks and the ubiquitous khakis. Marcia had texted her that their luggage would be transferred from the downed plane to the new one. So either Marcia had shopped for everyone but her, or they had gone to the mall themselves. She still wore Brandy’s jeans and shirt. She’d change on the plane.

“Deadheading? What does that mean?”

“We’re catching a ride with you to London. There are a slew of measures the FAA requires before we can take the controls again. There’ll be other pilots handling this flight.”

Lowering the newspaper he had been hiding behind since the ride began, Mason said, “Let’s hope they do a better job of getting us to London than you two did.”

Camilla blinked, then tried a laugh, though it came out forced. “He’s kidding of course.”

The pilots shrugged. “We hope they have more luck, too. Hell, we’ll be on the plane, won’t we?”

The newspaper was back up again.

Once at the new jet, disturbingly similar to the old jet, she retrieved her suitcase and changed in the restroom into a fresh pair of slacks, a sweater, and some new flats. When she came out, the pilots sat in one row of seats next to each other farther down the jet, chatting, and Mason was closer to the front in a window seat. Instead of taking the seat next to him, given his rude comment and silence, she assumed an aisle seat across from the pilots, smiling at them.

As the plane began to taxi and her stomach dropped, she regretted the distance between her and Mason. She supposed it was necessary if they were to get through the next few weeks in a business-like fashion.