She looked at him and Alexio’s eyes met hers. He sucked in a breath. Without the black-framed glasses they were stunning. Almond-shaped. Aquamarine. Like the sea around the islands in Greece. Sparkling green one second and blue the next. Long dark lashes were a contrast against her pale colouring, and her eyebrows the same strawberry blonde tone as her hair.
She looked resolute, her hands gripping her bag, that soft mouth tight now, eyes avoiding his. ‘I’ll move seats.’
Alexio frowned. Everything in his body was rejecting the notion with a force he didn’t like to acknowledge. ‘Why on earth do you want to move?’
This was another novel experience—a woman trying to get away from him!
Alexio settled back further in his seat. The woman opened her mouth again and he saw small, even white teeth. Her two front teeth had a slight gap in the middle. He had the uncanny feeling that he could just sit there and stare at her for hours.
Now she was blushing in earnest.
‘Well, you’re obviously...you know...’ she looked at him now, slightly agonised.
He quirked a brow. ‘What am I?’
Her cheeks went an even brighter red and Alexio had to curb the desire to reach out and touch them to see if they felt as hot as they looked.
She huffed now, impatiently. ‘Well, you’re obviously you, and you have things to do, people to talk to. You need space.’
Something cold settled into Alexio’s belly and his eyes narrowed. Of course. She’d heard that exchange with the pilot and would have deduced who he was. Still...in his experience once people knew who he was they didn’t try to get away—the opposite, in fact.
‘I have all the space I need. You don’t need to go anywhere. I’ll feel insulted if you move.’
* * *
Sidonie had to force herself to calm down. What on earth was wrong with her? So what if he was Alexio Christakos, one of the most powerful entrepreneurs of his time? So what if he was more gorgeous than any man she’d ever seen? Since when had she become a walking hormone, anyway? The flight was only an hour. She could handle anything for an hour. Even sitting beside Alexio Christakos.
She forced herself to relax her grip on her bag and said, in as calm a voice as she could muster, ‘Fine. I just thought that in light of...who you are...you might appreciate some more space. I mean physically. You’re not exactly...’ Sidonie stopped and bit her lip, slid her gaze from his uncomfortably.
In an effort to distract him she started to take stuff out of her bag again: a book, papers...
‘I’m not exactly what?’
Sidonie could hear the barely suppressed smile in his voice and it made her prickle at being such an object of humour for him.
‘You know very well what I mean...’ She waved a hand in his general direction. ‘You’re not exactly designed to fit into economy class, are you?’
She could have sworn she heard a muffled snort but refused to look, thrusting her bag back down under the seat in front. She hated to acknowledge the zinging sensation in her blood, as if she’d been plugged into a mild electric current.
She sat back and crossed her arms, and looked at him to find him regarding her with a small smile playing around his mouth. Lord. Almost accusingly she asked, ‘Why are you here anyway? Apparently you could be on a private jet rather than waiting here like the rest of us.’