Page 59 of The Potter

Because I’ve slipped.

Somehow, I’ve let this woman wear me down. Calista would love to seize this lapse in judgment and further taint my reputation during this lawsuit.

Keep your head on straight, Vance.

“If you’re sure,” I confirm, reaching for another bag inside the car. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Inhaling, Halle squares her shoulders in a look of pure determination before turning and walking toward the plane. I watch her for several breaths as she approaches the stairs and stops.

Keep going, Halle. Don’t stop.

But she does, dropping her bag onto the ground and turning around, her lips parted in an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can.”

I let Astor’s shit fall to the ground as I eat up the steps between Halle and me, scooping her up and enjoying the breathy gasp she lets out as her legs wrap around my waist. I carry Halle up the stairs, keeping focused on getting us inside without further incident. The flight attendant can grab our bags.

“Vance,” Halle whispers, tucking her face into my neck, tightening her arms around me as we enter the cabin.

An ache spreads through my chest as I hold her close. I know what she’s feeling all too well. When you have no control over your body as the silent demon within takes over without your consent.

“You’re not alone,” I assure Halle calmly, carefully moving down the aisle and coming to a stop at one of the leather chairs. “I’m going to put you down so I can pour us a drink, okay?”

I have a feeling we desperately need it.

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to throw up.” Her normally snarky tone has this brokenness that concerns me.

“Okay,” I concede. “No alcohol. Guess we’ll find another way to relax you.”

She pulls back and offers me a half-hearted smile. “Told you I’d need the sedatives.”

I adjust her up my body and turn, taking us both down to the leather chair. “You disappoint me, Ms. Belle. I thought you, of all people, would have realized I never lose an argument.”

Except to Calista. But that’s a different game altogether.

Halle’s smile tilts upward, looking more like the real Halle I’ve come to know over the past few weeks. “I think you overestimate your ability, Dr. Potter. I think it’s more like you haven’t been challenged properly.”

She’s playing a dangerous game.

One that will leave her spent beneath me.

Lifting her chin with one finger, I situate her on my lap, grinding her down on my hard cock. “I should warn you, Ms. Belle, challenging me never leaves my opponents happy.”

Halle leans forward, her earlier hesitation dissipating as she threads her fingers through my hair and tilts my face upward. “Are you flirting with me, Dr. Potter?”

The flight attendant stows our bags—and the fucking pamphlets—and closes the cabin door before I can respond. Halle flinches, turning back, her chest rising and falling in short pants. “Oh, God. I don’t think I can do this.”

“Youwilldo this,” I tell her, holding her hips to mine as she tries to stand.

Her eyes are wide with panic. “Vance, please. Tell Astor I’m sorry.”

I’m telling Astor no such thing. This woman, who took a bus cross-country to deal with a man in a perpetual bad mood, is no quitter. “When we get there, you can tell Astor to bring his own shit next time.” I pull the seat belt around her, securing us both to the seat in a quick motion.

“Oh, God.” She buries her face into my neck as the engine whirls to life.

Her body is tense, shivering in my arms. If she keeps this up, I will have to sedate her. There’s a fine line between dealing with PTSD and making it worse. If I don’t distract Halle quickly, I’ll have no other choice. I can’t allow her to suffer.

Pulling her higher up my thighs, I rub my palms up and down her back, placing a kiss to her hair and whispering, “I black out sometimes.”

My random, awkward declaration does the trick as Halle lifts her head slowly.

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