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The Ten-Day Baby Takeover(32)

By:Karen Booth


“I always drive Mr. Langford. Everywhere.”

Aiden climbed out of the car and placed his hand on her lower back, only amping up her nervousness. That touch from any other man would’ve reminded her this was really happening. It would’ve taken her out of the dream. But Aiden? He put her that much further into it. He nodded toward the plane, his sunglasses glinting. “Shall we?”

They climbed the stairs and stepped into the luxurious cabin, piling one surreal moment on top of countless others. There were a dozen or so oversize cream-colored leather seats, mahogany and chrome accents. Everything gleamed—even the flight attendant’s red lipstick and white smile as she said, “Welcome aboard.”

“Anywhere special you want me?” Sarah asked Aiden.

He removed his sunglasses and cocked an eyebrow. “Wherever you’d like to be is fine with me.”

Her face flushed with heat. Damn him and his comebacks. Damn her and her brain that just had to go there. She took the seat closest to her. Aiden took the one directly opposite, facing her.

“May I get you a drink before takeoff, Ms. Daltrey?”

Sarah hadn’t had a chance to introduce herself. Nor did she have a chance to respond.

“We’ll have the usual, Genevieve,” Aiden answered.

“Yes, Mr. Langford.”

“I trust that champagne is okay?” Aiden asked Sarah.

“It’s nine in the morning.”

Aiden ruffled the newspaper open. “You’re on edge. I see it on your face.”

My face is fine. John boarded, taking a seat in the front. Sarah glanced out the window as the plane began to taxi. She hated to fly and seeing outside after takeoff would only make it worse. She lowered the shade, doing her best to act as if this was exactly where she should be. If she seemed on edge, it was because she was as far out of her element as she could imagine, and this was only the start of her day on the brink. There was much more to deal with—Sylvia Hodge, the fashion show, the countless glamorous people who would be in attendance, who would undoubtedly be wondering how someone like Sarah got in. And then there was the not-small matter of spending twenty-four hours with Aiden, when she already didn’t trust herself with him.

Own it, Sarah. Own it. “I’m not on edge. I’m just thinking over the things Anna and I talked about this morning. For the moment when I meet Sylvia Hodge.” God help me. “She gave me some great pointers.” Sarah sat up straight and crossed her legs. If only she was in her black pencil skirt, short peplum jacket and pumps, she’d be the epitome of put-together. Thankfully, Tessa had sent that power suit, along with the dress she’d designed and a bathing suit. The clothes would help her fake her way through today, and then she’d be golden.

In the interest of control and modesty, Sarah had been explicit with Tessa about the swimsuit, asking for the plain black one at the very bottom of her dresser. Plain black. Got it? Hopefully she could talk Aiden out of a trip to the pool and she wouldn’t even need it. She’d seen him without his shirt and managed to keep her own clothes on. No point in pressing her luck.

The flight attendant brought two champagne flutes, filled with golden bubbles. Aiden folded his newspaper and reached out to clink his glass with hers. “To success.”

She admired his optimism—success was not a familiar concept. “Yes. I’m hoping for success.”

His vision narrowed on her, a crease forming between his eyes. “There is no hoping. You need to walk up to Sylvia Hodge tonight, tell her what you do and tell her what you want. That’s how you make deals. By taking charge.”

“And how, exactly, do I take charge with Sylvia Hodge? She’s a legend. She’s put more designers on the map than anyone, and she’s probably destroyed more. Just saying her name scares me.”

“I can tell. And it’s not good. But don’t worry. I have a solution.”

A solution? “Please. Do tell. I’m all ears.”

“How do you feel about heights?”

Uh-oh. Mr. Adventure-seeker was at play here. “Absolutely mortified. So whatever it is that you’re planning, just forget it. I’m not climbing or jumping off anything.”

“No climbing or jumping. Just fun. You don’t have to do anything other than sit there.”

“A roller coaster?”

“Parasailing.”

“Over water? In the sky?” Sarah’s brain sputtered. As if she wasn’t already nervous enough. “No way. My hair looks amazing today. I’m not giving up a God-given good hair day.”

He leaned closer and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Sarah. You made me step outside my comfort zone. It’s time for me to do the same for you. Trust me. It’ll be good.”