Love on Landing (11 page)

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Authors: Heather Thurmeier

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Love on Landing
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Tali's hand ran up against his chest and pushed hard against him. "I said let go of me." She spoke through a clenched jaw and he could tell she fought to remain in control of her emotions. Reluctantly, he let her go.

"Tali, I—" Gavin stopped mid-sentence as the sting of her hand slapping his face surprised him. His cheek tingled as he stood there staring at her, unblinking.

Did she really just hit me?

"You hit me." He rubbed his newly tender skin.
She hit me.

"You, Gavin Taylor, are the biggest asshole I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. You do not and will not ever understand me or the life I'm forced to live. Being with you was a mistake, but not because of the alcohol—because you're an ass and I can do a hell of a lot better than you. So why don't you go find that airline whore who obviously wanted to be in your company and go insult her for a while—because I'm done with you."

Ouch
.

"Tali, wait," he called after her as she stormed down the path. He jogged up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Get your hand off of me before I break your fingers." She glared at him from over her shoulder and he instantly dropped his hand to his side.

"All of a sudden I'm not good enough for you anymore, huh? Not now that I'm saying something you don't want to hear. Well fine then. Run off and find someone new who will listen and nod at whatever Princess Tali has to say. Good luck. That tactic really seems to be working out great for you so far."

"Fuck you, Gavin." Tali took off across the grass, ignoring the pathway all together and made a beeline for the street. She flagged down a taxi and hopped inside before he could even mutter a reply.

"Well, damn. I didn't see that coming."

As he watched her taxi pull away from the curb, he sank to the ground and put his head in his hands.
What the hell just happened?

Chapter Eight

 

Tali swiped at the tears on her cheeks with a balled up tissue. She took a few deep steadying breaths and rested her head on the back of the torn leather seat, closing her eyes. What happened back there?

She liked Gavin. A lot. More than she cared to admit to him or even herself for that matter. But why did he have to be such an asshole all the time? Why couldn't he take her word for how her life was and leave it at that? Why the hell did he have to challenge every single thing she said?

God, he was so incredibly frustrating. She wanted to punch him. Instead she'd slapped him. Not smart. Not fair either. But totally justified in that one moment. And satisfying. Oh God, so satisfying.

The expression of shock mixed with a little bit of amusement on his face as the red mark appeared on his cheek from her slapping him was something she wasn't going to forget anytime soon. Nope. That was going into the vault for safekeeping just in case she ever wanted to relive it again.

Tali handed the driver a few bills as he pulled to a stop at the curb. She climbed out of the taxi, thankful she didn't have a ton of shopping bags to lug with her this time. Today she wasn't in the mood for shopping. No, today she wanted to sit and think for a bit. She pulled open the large, heavy door and stepped inside an exquisitely decorated lobby.

Tapestries hung over top of rich amber-colored walls. Oil paintings sat on easels along the edges of the room, giving it the feel of a gallery instead of a restaurant. The whole room smelled slightly of something similar to honey. Tali instantly felt at home.

"
Bonjour, Mademoiselle Tali. Comment ça va
?" The maitre d' sauntered over to her, giving her a quick kiss on each cheek.

"I am well. How are you, Henri?" Her chest swelled a little as if she spoke to an old friend.

"I am very good. You are looking a little tired,
non
? You have been missing your favorite food,
oui
?"

"
Bien sûr.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about the amazing food here since I arrived. Do you have a spot out on the terrace for me today, Henri?"

He smiled sweetly at her. She knew he would do whatever needed to get her the table she desired. And he knew exactly which table she wanted without her having to tell him. Having people remember her likes and dislikes was definitely one of the perks of being a Radcliff. Doors magically opened for Tali. Well, not all doors. Some were still firmly closed—like the door that would allow her to walk away from being forced to take over the helm of the family business. That door had no key to unlock it.

Henri led her out to the terrace to the small corner table she loved so much. Her favorite spot on the terrace had not only an outstanding view of the city, but the table was also slightly removed from the others. She always felt like she was a little bit alone when she sat there, no matter how crowded the restaurant got. Right now, that was exactly what she needed—some time alone with her thoughts.

Tali ordered coq au vin, her favorite meal, and relaxed back into the cushy chair. These chairs were much more luxurious than a person would expect to see on an outdoor terrace, but Tali appreciated the comfort they provided. She imagined they must bring them in each night to prevent them from getting ruined by the weather. Good thing they did. These chairs were far too nice to let something like the elements touch them.

She took a small leather-bound case from her handbag, opening it in her lap. She always carried the sketchbook with her since she never knew when she'd be able to sneak in a few minutes to draw. As she flipped the pages, she remembered where she'd been when each drawing had been created. Some of the sketches she'd done while waiting for her father to start a meeting. Those ones were usually small and always incomplete. Then there were other drawings that were full page, detailed pieces of art. She knew she should probably take them out of the sketchbook and put them somewhere safer where there wasn't a chance for them to get wrecked, but there was something comforting about having them near her. And even when she didn't have time to draw something new, she still enjoyed looking over her previous work.

She stopped flipping as she came to a page she'd done the other day on her flight to Paris—a picture of a man down on one knee holding her hand and gazing at her with more love in his eyes than she'd ever seen in real life. The day she'd drawn this was the day she'd found out Roger was getting married and her own hope for the future had been crushed. She dreamed of getting married to a wonderful man one day, but with every stinky relationship, or lack of relationship, her dream seemed to move further and further out of the realm of possibilities.

Tali scowled as she examined the would-be groom's face. She hadn't purposely been sketching anyone in particular. She had only been trying to pass the time. But now that she really looked at what she'd drawn, it was obvious—the man in her sketch was Gavin. She'd started this drawing after her encounter with him in the cockpit and he must have still been on her mind. There was no mistaking his telltale five o'clock shadow.

Damn it. Of course, she had to have a crush on the guy who was a total jerk to her all the time.
Just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?

She traced the lines of the drawing, remembering what it was like when she'd run her fingers down his chest. She could still feel his warm flesh under her fingertips. She could see his dark eyes gazing at her hungrily, reflecting her own need. That handsome face of his—ugh, she'd slapped that handsome face.

Why had she slapped him? Why had she told him off and walked away from him?

Because he'd been a jerk.

True. But he'd also been right.

And what had she done in response? She'd run away from the truth, sulking like a spoiled brat. Tali looked down at her designer boots, her designer handbag still sitting on the chair next to her—her wrists adorned with baubles and sparkly trinkets. She cringed.

She forced herself to think about going back to the States and sitting in a stuffy boardroom with her father, listening to him chatter on about facts and figures and pointing at graphs on the wall. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She could almost smell the coffee and donuts in the air as she imagined being forced to sit for hours in the meetings she cared nothing about.

Gavin was right. She would never be happy doing something she felt forced to do. She'd never learn to love the boardroom like her father did. But what could she do about it? Her father needed someone to take over the business one day and that someone was supposed to be her. What would happen if she said no?

What would happen if she said yes? Would her father really want her to run his company, if she hated working there? Wouldn't he want someone who loved the job to run the company he'd created and poured his blood, sweat and tears into for years?

Wouldn't her father ultimately want her to be happy?

Tali sighed and glanced back down to the sketchbook still open in her lap. She wasn't sure she knew the answers, but she had to hope her father would want her to be happy regardless of whether or not she took over for him.

She flipped to a clean page and slipped the charcoal pencil out of the sleeve. She began sketching the scene of the terrace restaurant—the tables and chairs, the ivy climbing the walls and the city backdrop. Instantly the feeling of dread twisting in her stomach disappeared. A feeling of calm seeped in as if she were completely submersed in a tranquil pool.

She added in another detail to her sketch—a man, leaning on the edge of the stone railing bordering the terrace. Not just any man. Gavin.

My Gavin.

Closing the sketchbook and sliding it into her handbag, Tali pulled out a few Euros and tossed them on the table. As she quickly gathered her things, her mind began to clear. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to talk to Gavin.

 

Tali hurried along the sidewalk, nearing the hotel with every step. Hopefully Gavin was in his room and she could talk to him. Tell him he'd been right about her and she was going to talk to her father about the job he expected—but never asked—her to do. Then she would make things right with Gavin so maybe they could spend a little more time together since she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.

She picked up her pace, eager to get to him, even more eager for the chance to make up with him. She smiled at the thought of what making up could entail. Hopefully sexy time would be involved. Lots and lots of sexy time.

Tali stumbled, falling forward, landing on the sidewalk on her hands and knees. Her ankle screamed at her as it was held in an awkward position. She carefully pulled her foot free from where her spindly heel had gotten caught in a deep crack in the sidewalk. Trying not to twist it, she stood, brushing the dirt off her pants.

Balancing her weight on her other foot, she put one hand flat against the window of the building beside her and gently rolled her ankle with the other hand. Aside from a slight twinge of pain, it felt okay. By tomorrow it would be good as new again as long as she got back to the hotel and out of the heels soon.

She tentatively put weight on her foot, taking a moment to make sure her ankle would bear weight like normal. She sighed with relief as she took a tiny step and didn't have any pain. Good. No harm done—other than looking like an idiot. Tali glance around her, thankful the sidewalk was empty which meant no one had witnessed her little mishap.

Then Tali's gaze fell to the coffee shop window her hand was currently pressed against. It was the same shop she'd been to earlier with Gavin. Inside, a few patrons had big silly grins on their faces as they watched her. Maybe her little fall wasn't as invisible as she'd originally thought. But it wasn't those people who caught her attention. Nope. Her attention fell fully on one person—Gavin.

Well, make that two people—Kerry, sky whore extraordinaire, was with him.

Tali stood frozen to the sidewalk as she stared through the window at Gavin. He was cuddled up nice and cozy in a cushy booth with Kerry.
Don't waste any time, do you?
Kerry had her head nuzzled into his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around her. As Tali watched, Gavin kissed the top of Kerry's head.

Huh. Hadn't he done that to Tali too? Hadn't he held her the exact same way before?

Tali's pulse quickened as she stood there, unable to look away. Her breathing came in short gasps as she choked back the tears threatening her eyes yet again. God, what the hell was with her and the crying? She never cried and now it seemed like every time she turned around, she was on the verge of crying like a little baby.

Maybe because she kept getting hurt by people she thought cared about her. Well no more. No more tears for Roger… or for Gavin. She was done. She didn't need a man in her life to be happy. She'd figure out happiness all on her own.

Tali took her hand off the glass and smiled weakly at the people still watching her. Then she turned away from them and crossed the street, narrowly missing a Vespa scooter as it zipped down the street. She didn't stop to think, she just moved, one foot in front of the other as quickly as she could. She needed nothing more in that moment than to get as far away from the coffee shop as she could—as far away from Gavin as possible.

Tali didn't stop until she reached her hotel room. Letting the door close behind her, she rested back against it with her eyes closed. She desperately tried to block out the noise of the thoughts running through her head. She didn't want to question what she saw. She didn't want to question what she felt. She wanted to escape it all for a little while.

She needed a little time to sort out everything that had happened in the last couple of days—Gavin, her realization about art and work, all of it. And she needed some time alone to do that.

"Hi, Tali," a familiar voice said amidst the darkness of her still-closed eyes.

She shrieked as her heartbeat jumped into her throat at the unexpected company. Her eyes popped open for an instant to confirm her suspicion was correct, then slammed shut again as if doing so could make what she'd just seen untrue.

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