Love After All (8 page)

Unfortunately, Robert's imprisonment eventually led to her meeting her ex-boyfriend, Eric. She was signing off on some paperwork at her father's attorney's office after work one day. A man grabbed her purse and Eric, stepping in, retrieved it and chased him off. He saved her.

At the time she wasn't sure if he'd followed her or not. He said that he hadn't and just happened to see her leave the building at the last second, but now she knew that was a lie. But at the time she accepted his explanation and his offered friendship. He was a friendly face and had a smile that was infectious.

He seemed perfect, tall, dark and handsome, and he treated her like a princess. He was the first man she trusted to tell the truth about her family. Being that they were coworkers, she didn't want him surprised or embarrassed if anyone ever saw them together and knew who her father was. She told him just about everything about her family and he was okay with it. He accepted that her father was in prison and he even tried to convince her to visit Robert. But she never did.

That seemed to disappoint him. It wasn't until later that she figured it out. Their meeting, their romance, their love, was all one big con to get her to trust him and to get her to see her brother. The only thing he ever wanted was what her brother knew about the business.

When it became obvious that she wasn't going to be pressured into visiting her father or telling him how to contact her brother, Eric broke into her office, used her computer and stole money from their employer to pay off a con gone bad.

He used her and she let him. The only saving grace was that she'd never contacted her father or told Eric how to find Jefferson like he wanted her to do. But as her mother said, family is forever and you never betray that. He tried everything to persuade her to make contact, but she had always adamantly refused. That was the one good thing she'd done.

Now, seated at the window, Samantha looked out and watched the airport handlers load the last luggage cart and make final preparations for the plane's departure. Her thoughts wandered to the path before her now. Jefferson's message said that a friend of his would contact her. Not knowing who it was, she reminded herself that she needed to be open to anything.

Like Kareem in the cab company, Jefferson had many friends.

“Excuse me,” he said, interrupting her wayward thoughts. As she looked up, he smiled, his eyes dancing. “I think you're in my seat,” Jackson said as he looked up at the small metal tab above the seats, then at the boarding pass in his hand. “I believe I have the window.”

Samantha nodded, removed her reading glasses and sized him up quickly. To say that he was attractive was a stark understatement. The man was gorgeous. His face was as smooth as mocha silk with just enough evening shadow on his chin to make him look dangerous and sexy. His lips were strong, full and firm, the kind that could kiss a woman into submission.

His dark, wavy hair was cut short, with half sideburns that stopped short of his chiseled jaw and firm chin. Tall, with broad shoulders, he was exceptionally built. But it was his eyes that gave her pause. Framed by thick dark lashes, his eyes, exquisitely divine, shot right into her the very instant she looked up at him, mesmerizing her to silence.

She smiled, numb. He tilted his head downward as if to increase the intensity as his eyes brightened knowingly. They were luminously breathtaking and she suspected he'd been told that more than a time or two.

“Is that right?” she finally said as she pulled out her boarding pass and checked the seat number and the armrest number. “It appears you're correct.”

“Do you mind? I'd prefer the window seat,” he said.

“Not at all,” she said, then stood and moved to step back into the aisle.

Jackson, who had begun storing his bag in the overhead compartment, stepped aside and right into her path. Their bodies connected against the back of the seat in front of them and pressed closer as another passenger passed behind them. The maneuver was completely innocent but extremely sexually suggestive.

Their eyes locked as she looked up and he looked down.

“Thank you,” he said provocatively, leaving it up to her to know what he was thanking her for. He smiled, grabbed his briefcase, then ducked his head and moved to the window seat and sat down.

His gold Rolex gleamed as she inhaled the scent of his expensive cologne. “My pleasure,” she responded as she sat down in the aisle seat and placed the magazines back on her lap and continued flipping through the pages.

Jackson looked around the immediate first-class area. “Looks like we've got most of first-class all to ourselves, at least for the next few hours,” he said as he glanced at her legs and then at the name of the magazine she had on her lap. She nodded but didn't speak, then obligatorily glanced around the first-class cabin also. He watched the smooth perfect softness of her caramel skin as she turned, noting also the single two-carat diamond stud earring.

Jackson smiled as he took the opportunity to observe her more closely. He'd seen her before, of course. She'd been in the airport's first-class lounge sitting alone nursing what looked like a glass of white wine as two others that hadn't been touched sat across from her.

Now, seeing her face-to-face, he changed his assessment of her. She wasn't stuck-up or haughty, she was something more. Attractive, yes, she was definitely an attractive woman, elegant and glamorously styled. She was impeccably dressed with the knowing air of a boardroom executive. But then there was something else behind her aloof coolness, an attitude definitely, but something more elusive. He was intrigued.

Finding a woman with money and power was relatively easy in his circle. They were a dime a dozen. They moved awkwardly in an affluently graced society that had groomed them for perfection since birth. But finding a woman with that certain something and who moved with the ease of assured confidence by her own making was something else completely. The difference, subtle to most, was blaringly obvious to him.

They sat side by side in silence as a continuing flow of passengers began to enter the plane and take their seats farther back. Preoccupied, Jackson rested his head back on the cushioned headrest and relaxed. The stress of the past few days had worn him down. He was glad to be headed back home. That is, until his phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the number. He closed his eyes and exhaled. It was his father again and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that. “Damn,” he said tightly, then turned off the phone and put it away.

“Are you okay?” Samantha asked, witnessing his tense reaction.

He turned to her. “Yeah, sorry about that. Business,” Jackson said to Samantha, seeing that she had stopped flipping through the magazine. “I didn't mean to get so loud.”

“It wasn't loud,” she said, half smiling. “Sounds like trouble brewing.”

“Trouble is always brewing, but then life is trouble.”

“At times, true,” she turned to look directly at him. “Look, I know this is going to sound like a come-on, but honestly it's not. You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“A come-on?” he asked, lightening his mood.

“You know what I mean. A pickup line.”

“And are you picking me up?” he asked hopefully.

“No, sorry, I'm just curious, I know I recognize your voice. I just can't seem to place you.”

“Well, as a matter of fact we did meet briefly,” he said. “I was in the first-class lounge an hour or so ago when…”

“Oh, yes, of course, it was you, my knight in shining armor,” she smiled and his attraction was complete. “Thank you again, that was very kind of you. A lot of people these days would prefer not to get involved.”

“Don't mention it. My sister has the same problem when she travels. She can take care of herself, but I hope someone might be there if ever she needs.”

“It is a different world and I seem to attract a lot of complications lately,” she said.

“I have to confess, truth be told I considered coming over, as well, but thought better of it after I saw you shoot down the other men who approached you.”

“I wasn't that bad, was I?”

“Not at all,” he said with obvious facetiousness. “Jackson, Jackson Daley,” he said, holding his hand out to shake.

Samantha looked over to the offered hand. “Samantha,” she said, leaving out her last name. He shook her hand, smiling warmly.

“Samantha,” he nodded. “Nice name, different, it suits you. Do your friends call you Sammy?”

“No. Do your friends call you Jackie?”

He chuckled. “Touché. It's a pleasure meeting you, Samantha, no last name.”

“Same here, Jackson, Jackson Daley,” she said.

He chuckled again. “So, are you a computer specialist or an architect?” he asked, glancing, then pointing down to the magazines on her lap.

Samantha had stopped turning the pages. “Actually, I…” She paused a second and smiled. “I put things together from time to time,” she said cryptically as the plane's engines began to hum louder and the attendant closed the front hatch and secured it. Samantha glanced around Jackson and out the window nervously, seeing that the plane was getting ready to back away from the gate tunnel.

Jackson smiled at her vague answer as he glanced down at her left hand, noting the distinct absence of ring or ring shadow and tan line. He looked into her eyes as she glanced out the window, seeing and recognizing her nervousness. “Do you fly often?” he asked casually as he placed his briefcase under the seat in front of him while purposely blocking her view of the plane preparing for takeoff.

“No,” she said tightly, leaning back. “I prefer to take trains.”

“How fortunate that you didn't this time or we might never have met,” he said as he leaned back up and noticed the now-strained expression on her face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “Just a little anxious. Actually, just a lot anxious.”

“Flying?” he asked. She nodded briefly as other passengers settled themselves and began talking excitedly. She watched as the flight attendants walked down the aisle checking and securing the overhead compartments. “Try not to think about it.”

The engine roared louder. “Impossible,” she muttered.

“Statistics say that flying is by far the safest mode of transportation.”

“Statistics? You have to be kidding me. A million-ton metal cylinder filled with passengers riding on a thin air current doesn't exactly fill me with reassurance.”

“Aerodynamics, planes fly between streams of air and ride the currents. It's perfectly safe and perfectly natural. Birds do it all the time.”

She looked over to him. “No offense, but that doesn't help. Birds don't weigh a few million tons,” she said, exaggerating.

He smiled, then chuckled with ease. “When you think about it, it works.”

“No offense again, but, I prefer not to think about it if you don't mind,” she said tensely.

He smiled again, enjoying her remarks. “Anything I can do to help?” he offered with sincerity.

“No, thanks.” She laid her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“I gather you're not much of an airplane talker then,” he said after a moment's silence. When she didn't respond, he continued, “Personally, I enjoy flying, particularly after midnight, the red-eye. It relaxes me. A few hours through the night and you're there at your destination.”

She nodded absently, focused more on the accelerating engine noise than what he was saying. “So, are you traveling on business or running away from an old boyfriend?” he asked jokingly.

Barely registering, she shook her head. “Neither.”

The engine sounded again and the plane began to move away from the boarding tunnel. Samantha's eyes popped open. As the plane rolled backward, an attractive young flight attendant walked over. She smiled and checked their seat belts. She looked directly into Jackson's lap and smiled brighter, asking if there was anything she could do for him. He declined her open offer. Then she smiled obligingly at Samantha, knowing that her open display of attraction was too obvious.

Samantha gripped the armrest tighter in anticipation.

“It'll be over with soon. Takeoff is always the worst. It's the whole expectation thing,” Jackson said softly in her ear. “Try not to think about it. Distract yourself.”

She nodded absently, taking his advice. “Okay.”

The plane continued to taxi to the runway. As the engines roared louder, Jackson sensed Samantha's tense reaction. She gripped the armrest tighter, closed her eyes and held her breath. The plane began to roll faster down the runway, preparing for liftoff. Samantha tensed even more.

“Kiss me,” she said breathlessly, completely out of the blue.

Jackson looked over to her. The odd request took him completely off guard. “Excuse me? I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you just say—”

“Yes, you heard me correctly, kiss me now,” she repeated more firmly.