When Christakos Meets His Match(4)

                One dark brow moved upwards over the most startling pair of green eyes she’d ever seen. Gold and green. Like a lion. She had green eyes too, but they were more blue than green.

                ‘I think you’re sitting on my seatbelt?’

                It took a few seconds for the words to compute, and when they did Sidonie jumped up as if scalded, hands flapping. ‘I’m so sorry... Excuse me... Just let me... It must be here somewhere...’

                Sounding irritated, the man said, ‘Stay still and I’ll get it.’

                Sidonie closed her eyes in mortification, her hands gripping the seat-back in front of her, and she hovered, contorted in the small space, as the man coolly retrieved his seatbelt and buckled it.

                Sidonie sat down again and attended to her own belt. Feeling breathless, and avoiding looking at him again, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I—’

                He cut her off. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it.’

                A flare of something hot lanced Sidonie’s belly. Did he have to sound so curt? And why was she suddenly so aware of the fact that her hair was scraped up into a messy bun, that she had no make-up on, that she was wearing jeans that were so worn there was a frayed hole at her knee and an equally worn university sweatshirt. And her glasses. If Central Casting had been looking for ‘messy grunge student type’ she would have been hired on the spot.

                She was disgusted at herself for letting a man—albeit a man as gorgeous as this one—make her feel so self-conscious. She forced herself to take a deep breath and looked resolutely forward. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she was aware of big, strong-looking hands opening up a tablet computer. Her belly clenched.

                The seconds stretched to minutes and she heard him sigh volubly when the plane still wasn’t moving. His arm nearest to her reached up to push something, and she realised it must have been the call button when the stewardess arrived with indecent haste.

                ‘Yes, sir?’

                Sidonie heard the irritation in his voice. ‘Is there a reason why we’re not moving yet?’

                She looked over and saw only his strong profile and jaw, and even though she couldn’t see it she could imagine the kind of expression he’d be using: imperious. She glanced at the woman and felt sorry for her because she looked so embarrassed.

                ‘I’m not sure, sir. I’ll check right away.’ She rushed off again.

                Sidonie let out a faint snort of derision. Even the stewardess was treating him as if he was some sort of overlord.

                He looked at her then. ‘I’m sorry... Did you say something?’

                Sidonie tried not to be affected by his overwhelming presence. She shrugged minutely. ‘I’m sure we’re just waiting in line to take our slot on the runway.’

                He turned to face her more fully and Sidonie cursed herself. The last thing she needed was his undivided attention on her.

                ‘Oh, really? And what if I have an important meeting to attend in London?’

                Something hot flashed into Sidonie’s veins and she told herself it was anger at his insufferable arrogance. She crossed her arms in an unconsciously defensive move and said in a low voice, ‘Well, in case it’s escaped your attention, there are approximately two hundred people on this plane. I’m sure more than one other person has a meeting to make, and I don’t see them complaining.’