lack of his presence after such a trying hour would be a welcome pleasure.
“We’ll take off immediately so please fasten your seatbelt,” the attendant told her before disappearing into a cabin up front.
Delanie obeyed without complaint and tried to relax, not an easy feat as she’d never been a seasoned traveler. In the Tate household, the only member who took holidays was her father.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. The interior was quiet and comfortable and the chair was an absolute dream. If she managed to control her stress levels as the plane reached cruising altitude and leveled off then maybe she could nod off en route.
God knew she was tired enough to fall asleep standing up. The past week of dealing with doctors and attorneys and worried shareholders had drained her of her last reserves.
But total rest was still denied her.
Perhaps she could have dozed off if Marco’s voice hadn’t drifted to her. If her body hadn’t come awake at the deep timbre that left her shaking.
He spoke in clipped Italian delivered so fast and fluently that with her meager knowledge she couldn’t begin to translate. Was he really so much like her father, always engaged in some deal? Or was he delivering the news to Italy that he’d succeeded, that he’d brought Tate Unlimited to its knees?
That he had the millionaire’s heiress in tow with the contract that she’d agreed to do his bidding safely in hand?
All of the above, she thought as a small degree of hysteria rippled through her. Could she have dreamt up a more intense working relationship? No!
Marco was the billionaire who had trumped her tyrannical father’s millionaire status. He was the antithesis of power. He was her boss for the next two weeks.
He was the only man she’d fallen in love with. The only man she had ever loved physically and emotionally.
A hysterical laugh stuck in her throat as the plane sped through the clouds, carrying her into the unknown with a man who was more stranger to her than ever before. A man she’d hoped to cling to in the dead of night, who would be there for her until the day she drew her last breath. The man she’d spun dreams on.
Her only lover. Her hero.
Unwanted tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. How very wrong she’d been.
Hopefully, once they arrived in Italy he would take himself off so she could breathe again. So she could think. So she could do her job and then escape back to London with sole ownership of her business in hand.
Only then could she focus on her career. On her future. On living in peace. That’s all she wanted.
All she had to do to have that was endure two weeks in the company of the man who still left her weak-kneed. Who tormented her dreams in the dead of night.
She could do it. She had to. Failure wasn’t an option.
CHAPTER THREE
TWO hours into the flight, Marco ended the conference call and rubbed his gritty eyes. Sleep had been sporadic all week, a fact that could be blamed on the alluring beauty seated primly in the front of his plane.
His gaze zeroed in on her with unerring accuracy. She hadn’t moved much since boarding the plane. Had she dozed off? Was she simply enjoying the flight, content knowing that she would get exactly what she’d wanted all along?
He shifted and damned his restlessness. It shouldn’t matter to him if Delanie Tate was pleased or not. He’d never set out to spite her and he damned sure hadn’t attempted to placate her.
In fact, before his sister’s interference, he’d hoped to avoid her entirely during this shift in power. Delanie was a page from his past and he intended to keep her there.
Page? A wry smile tugged at his lips. No, she was a chapter at least. Perhaps even a book of pure trouble.
Still he hadn’t wished to reread that episode anytime soon. But Bella’s stubborn insistence on having Delanie as her wedding planner forced him to chose between pleasing himself or his sister.
He snorted. That had been no contest.
His sister’s happiness came first.
That had put Delanie right back into his life.
While he’d been prepared to deal with her on a business level, he hadn’t anticipated he would still find her unbelievably attractive. He’d never anticipated his body would react so at her nearness.
It was frustrating. Annoying. Unacceptable.
Dammit, he was a man in charge of his emotions. In control of his sex drive.
So why the hell was he shifting restlessly on the leather chair?
He swiped a hand down his face. This unwanted reaction to her was unacceptable on far too many levels.
If he had taken Delanie at her word, which he did not, he would have ordered the plane back to London and have her escorted off. He would have gladly let her plan his sister’s wedding from there, thus freeing himself of her alluring company.
But he couldn’t trust her. She’d betrayed him before when she’d sworn she loved him. There was nothing between them now but animosity on her part, and wariness on his own.
Since Elite Affair had turned down his sister once and then him a second time when he had upped the offer of money, he was left with one choice—force Delanie’s hand. His takedown of Tate Unlimited was the perfect opportunity.
There was no other recourse, he reasoned, refusing to take pleasure from watching the dim light play over her hair. She worked for him now. More so than other contractors he was in league with, she needed to be watched and made accountable.
The only way he could achieve that was by maintaining total control of the situation. That was best done by having her under his thumb.
Easy enough to accomplish. Or it should have been.
Being physically close to Delanie was a totally different matter that he still didn’t feel comfortable dealing with. But he would.
She aroused him on a deeper level than he liked and no amount of avoidance would change that. Even distancing himself from her on the plane hadn’t worked because she’d been on his mind the entire time.
He swore and scanned the contract she’d pressed on him earlier. Since it was straightforward and clear, he signed it without ceremony and left his chair.
“Your contract is precise yet fair,” he said, breaking the silence as he came to a stop behind her.
She started in her chair and looked back at him. The dark of her eyes nearly swallowed the clear blue.
“Thank you,” she said. “I see no reason to make a straightforward business arrangement complex.”
Her voice held that breathy quality that lapped around his control like warm waves, threatening to erode his defenses. It was so tempting to relax and be taken out to that sea of passion they’d frolicked in long ago. Too tempting.
“I’m of a like mind,” he said, planting his feet firmly in the here and now as he dropped onto the seat across from her.
The most charming flush stole across her cheekbones and he paused. Except for the unnatural stiffness in her narrow shoulders and the tilt of her head, she looked very much as she had when they’d met.
The years should have hardened her. Should have shown on her face. But all he saw was a reluctant surrender and a proud bearing that he admired.
“Tell me about her,” Delanie said, her gaze fixed on his again.
He looked away so she wouldn’t see he was softening to her again, that his control over remaining impassive was slipping through his fingers like warm grains of sand.
“My sister?” he asked,