Scandal: A BAD BOY Romance Novel (6 page)

I slid past him and into the bathroom within seconds.

What is going on with him?
I pondered, chewing on my lower lip. I knew that he'd made passes at me since that day in the elevator, but he'd never acted on them. Not really, anyway. Now, because of all of the allegations, I was left wondering whether he was doing it because he liked me or whether I had become his newest conquest.
As far as I was concerned, I'd made it clear that I wasn't interested in him. Even though my body betrayed me, it wasn't as if he knew that. Did he?
He can't read through every layer of you,
I reasoned with myself.

After I relieved myself, I immediately checked myself out in the mirror. My eyes had little baggies under them from the minimal sleep.
Nothing a little coffee and a cold spoon can't fix.
Other than that, my hair was mostly tame, to my surprise and delight. I ran my fingers through it and tried to sweep it to the side while detangling it at the same time.
As good as it's gonna get,
I decided before unlocking the bathroom door and slipping out.

I leapt in surprise as I was met with Asher leaning against the wall beside the door, his rippled, inked arms crossed over his chest.

"Were you listening to me pee?" I teased, then glanced up and down the hall. It was just me and Asher: the attendants were nowhere to be seen.

"Not exactly," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lip. "Did you want me to?"

"No," I scowled before shaking my head and normalizing my facial expression.

I didn't know what it was about Asher, but somehow he made me feel comfortable enough to talk to him as if I had always known him. I certainly didn't think I'd be talking back to Theodore Harding's son, let alone taunting him back, when I first met him.
I should try harder to maintain professionalism,
I thought. Although, to be fair to myself, how were we expected to spend two weeks in London
without
arriving at some level of familiarity? Either way, one thing was certain: I was staying away from Asher Harding. Clara warned me, the tabloids warned me, and his own father even warned me. As far as I was concerned, it was already settled.

"Thinking about me?" The smug smile he had could have fooled anyone.
Especially you,
my mind whispered as his dimples played with my heart strings.

"Just try to get some rest before we land," I responded coolly, moving towards the jet's bedroom so I could squeeze in a nap before landing.

Before I could get anywhere, Asher's arm shot out in front of me, blocking my path.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I whirled to face him.

Asher took the opportunity to position his other arm on the other side of me, caging me against the wall. He was a good head taller than me, I realized as I tilted my head to look up at him. I ducked my head in an attempt to get out from his hold on me, but he just lowered his arm and caught me at the waist.

"What are you running from?" Asher's voice was dangerously low. The question held more than the simple words asked; they were full of possibility and thick with desire.

He was so close that I could feel his shirt brush against the thin fabric of my tunic, and I immediately hated myself for being so weak for this man. He had consumed all of my senses in a way that was shooting small tremors throughout my body. I bit my lip and kept my eyes focused on his charcoal shirt with the distorted American flag.

"I'm not running from anything," I responded as honestly as I could, which didn't say much.

"Bullshit."

My eyes immediately shot up to meet his. I searched the depth of the blue and ended up even more perplexed than before. "I don't know what you're talking about," I finally said, making an attempt to sound more truthful than before. "I just want a peaceful trip to London and to be back home so I can continue my life."

I knew that I felt something for him.
Probably lust,
my mind pleaded with me, because as soon as I thought it I knew that it was undeniable that I felt something. The issue wasn't with the lust, because I was always in control of my emotions. I could handle myself and force myself to think about things other than Asher.

The problem was that I couldn't handle him. Every time I succeeded at getting him out of my head, he would just reappear with a newer, sexier reason to yearn for him. It didn't help that even when he was cold or taunting me, he was as hot as when he'd be sweet and helpful. It was sexy in a different way. It also didn't help that in the back of my mind, I was constantly wondering about the accusations. Were they true? Why had he taken such an interest in me as soon as I began working there if it wasn't?

When I looked up, Asher's eyes were searching mine. His brows were knit together, and I could tell he was debating with himself over something.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I blurted. Shaking my head, I hurriedly added, "Not that I want-I just mean that it feels like you've had a target on my back since day one. Not a bad target, necessarily, but it's just strange, you know?"

"What?" He looked puzzled.

"You stole my parking spot, for Pete's sake. I'm sure you had your own? Why would you take mine? Is it because you knew I was the new girl and I'd be..." I was rambling now, so I stopped myself short. Asher had never brought up the subject of his accusations with me, and I felt like it wasn't my place to, even though it felt so natural to talk to him.

He pushed himself off the wall and raked his hand through his hair. "Is that what you think?" Asher sneered. "Do you believe all of the bullshit people fling at you? Actually, don't answer that. I already know you do."

I reeled back as if he'd slapped me. "What's that supposed to mean? And what did you expect me to believe, Asher? You've done nothing but drop sexual innuendos, which lines up pretty well with the accusations. If the shoe fits..."

Asher barked out an angry laugh. He was pacing back and forth down the cramped hallway now, and I was left watching him, my arms crossed over my chest. My breath was coming out quicker now that I was angry, and I tried to control it. There was a lot I wanted to say to him, a lot I wanted to ask him, but I held back. For all I knew, all of the accusations were true--he certainly hadn't stated otherwise.

Finishing my mimosa, I set it down on an end table and decided to return to my seat when the plane jerked downward. I almost lost my balance, but Asher's strong arm looped around my waist and held me up. He hugged me against his rock hard chest, and my heart pounded harder as fear prickled at my nerves. The plane was dipping abruptly before leveling out intermittently. I stretched out an arm to hold on to the wall for additional support, my other hand gripping Asher's for dear life.

"Don't worry." His voice was low and calm; his warm breath against my ear soothing and exciting simultaneously. I was almost tempted to push my hair to the side to get a closer feel, but I didn't want to move in case he did. I didn't want him to let go. "It's a small plane, it's just a bit of turbulence."

"This is small to you?" I laughed nervously.

It felt like he was right, though. Within a minute, the flight had stabilized and the flight attendant's confident voice confirmed Asher's claim.

He loosened his grip but didn't let go. A pang of disappointment struck a chord in my heart anyway; it felt good to feel protected like that. I hadn't felt that sense of protection in a long time. In fact, I could hardly even remember the last time.

"You never answered the question."

"Which question?" I asked, tempted to point out that he hadn't answered
my
questions either.

"Do you believe the tabloids?"

I hesitated and looked down, knowing that he was staring at me. It wasn't that I believed the tabloids. It was that I didn't know what to believe. "Not entirely," I admitted truthfully. It was the best I could give him right now.

I could see Asher nodding in my peripheral vision, his jaw clenched. I wanted to ask him so badly if it was true, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It felt disrespectful in a way, to think that he would be capable of something like that. But what if he was? How would I know if I didn't ask? It didn't feel like the right time, though. Not when we were both so tense.

"You're cute when you're mad," he broke the silence.

"What?" I asked, looking up into his eyes.

"I've never seen anyone so cute when they're mad. I could see the anger in your eyes when I took your spot, and I figured that if you're cute when you're mad then there'll be no time when I won't think you're cute. It was a mistake, by the way."

"What was?" My voice came out softer than I'd intended, but he'd surprised me with his admission. This entire time I'd assumed that he was taunting me because he was an ass, but it turned out that he was taunting me because he thought I was cute. Or did that make it worse? It didn't matter. It didn't stop the butterflies.

"I lost my parking number and no one had been parking in that spot, so I assumed it belonged to no one. I wasn't expecting you to park there." His lip twitched as the memory came back to him. "When you showed up all huffy, I couldn't resist."

I shook my head at that, but I couldn't help but smile. "You're such an ass," I blurted. The blush immediately crept to my cheeks--that was the first time I'd said it out loud to him.

His eyebrows shot up, amused. "Oh, really?"

I stood my ground, licking my lips. I was almost tempted to tell him that I'd even dubbed him
Asser
in my mind, but decided against it. Instead, I responded with a simple, "Yes."

His eyes lowered to where my tongue had just traced my lips, and Asher took a step towards me. His presence was intoxicating, and I wondered how I would be able to handle spending two weeks with this man. How would I even be able to do my job? Theodore Harding had given me one task, and I highly doubted I'd be able to control Asher, report back on Asher, or even control myself around Asher. It was one thing when the entire office was watching, but now that we were headed thousands of miles from home...

"Would you prefer if I stopped?" He so close that I could feel my nipples brush against his chest. They immediately hardened, and I caught Asher smiling smugly. I didn't need to answer.

"What exactly would you prefer, Miss Lane?" Asher asked, his tone revealing that he knew full well what I preferred.

My promise to his father echoed in my head and I thought about my job and the task I had at hand. My body was fighting with my mind every step of the way. The sexual implications were enough to get me wet just thinking about what I would prefer he do. Each movement he made was a glaring reminder of exactly what his body could do to and for mine. My teeth nibbled at my lip as I contemplated how to answer that.

I didn't need to think long.

I wasn't sure if it was the exhilaration of flying out to London on an all-expenses-paid trip or the fact that this charming, gorgeous man with the devil-may-care smile had been fully focused on me ever since he met me.
What's the worst that can happen?
I asked myself, already becoming intoxicated with the warmth his body exuded when pressed up so close to mine. We'd already crossed a line: executive staff and entry-level employees were definitely not supposed to be standing this close to each other.

Who cares?

Before I could even get another word out, he'd closed the gap between us. His lips hungrily sought mine. The first flick of his tongue against my lips lit me on fire and consumed all my senses. My knees buckled as my body immediately arched towards his, eager for more contact. My arms circled his neck and I pulled him to me. Asher had me pushed up against the wall beside the bedroom door, his rippled chest pressed hard against my breasts.

I kissed him back with equal desire. I didn't know what had come over me, I'm usually meek and quiet with men, letting them show me how much they wanted me. But with Asher? The feelings I'd been holding back for the past two month were now pounding onto me at once, overwhelming me. Kissing him was almost as if I'd been traveling across the Sahara without any water. Tasting him was like opening an icy bottle of Evian in that desert.

Asher felt my need for him and smiled briefly against my teeth before allowing his tongue to continue tracing my lips. His tattooed arms finally released my waist and began to explore the curve of my side, traced their way along the sides of my plump breasts, before finding their way to my lower back. I could feel his desire grow stiff within his jeans, and I pressed my body harder against his as I moaned into his mouth.

Suddenly, the jet dipped. My eyes widened and searched for Asher's. Within moments, I felt my stomach lurch even more as I felt the sensation of falling. All I could do was hold on to the one thing I'd found in my life that I could finally be myself around: Asher.

The minutes flew by after that. It felt like seconds, it felt like hours, and it was the most frightened I had ever felt in my life. When Asher realized that it wasn't just turbulence this time, he flung me over his shoulder and bolted for the leather seat he was sitting on before. I quickly buckled up, then gripped the sides of my seat until my knuckles turned white.