Page 29 of Mr. Delicious
Inside the limo was just like I’d seen in the movies. White, shiny leather covered the padded seats which adjusted for my comfort as I sat. There was a mini bar and a small flat-screen TV, and the back smelled like roses. As we set off I got completely carried away with the whole thing and didn’t specifically pay attention to where we were going. Again, I made the assumption I’d be going somewhere in the city but could have just about fainted when we pulled up at the drop off point at O’Hare International.
“We’re at the airport,” I gasped, startled.
The driver just looked back at me with that same warm, welcoming smile.
“Yes, Miss Chase. This was where I was instructed to take you.”
“Why would AJ want me to meet him here?” Now I was confused. “Are you sure I’m the right person, or even that this is what he said?” I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
The driver laughed. “I’m certain of both things, but I have no idea what he has planned. I’m supposed to take you to him from here.”
I remained silent. I didn’t know what was going on, and now I was getting antsy because I’d told the guys back at the coffeehouse I’d be back by two at the latest. It was already nearly twelve-thirty.
I got out of the car when the driver opened the door, and followed him through the airport. Surprise gripped me when he led me through a VIP section and I didn’t even have to check in to get through security or anything. Then we were walking down the path toward a sleek looking private jet.
AJ was standing by the stairs that led into the jet. When I had thought I looked like a million dollars, I was wrong because he was the one that looked it through and through.
He was dressed in complete sophistication, and I let my gaze wander over him. A button-down white shirt, undone at the top, allowed me to see the slight hint of his tanned skin on his muscular chest. Beige trousers hung loosely from his powerful, long legs, and his spiky, shiny hair completed the look wonderfully. Just looking at him took my breath away, and I could barely focus.
He smiled when he saw me, and I smiled back nervously, anxiety overtaking me. “You made it.” He beamed, looking me over with complete satisfaction, “And you look better than in the dream I had of you last night.”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but no words came out. Instead, I took a gentle breath to calm my racing heart. This was the kind of man who could get you into trouble, and I was starting to see I had a tendency to forget everything when I was around him. His charm was overpowering and spellbinding.
He was the kind of man who could sweet talk me into anything, and I wondered what on earth whatever this was we were doing.
“You dreamt about me?”
“I did, but the real-life version of you is a million times better. You look beautiful.” His eyes took me in with that interest I craved from the loneliness I’d felt for far too long.
“Thank you.” I breathed trying to keep myself together. “You look amazing, too.”
“Thank you.” He smiled now, revealing super-gorgeous dimples.
I stared, fascinated because I didn’t realize he could look any hotter than he already did. But, gorgeous or not, there was a question I was dying to ask, and it was eating away at my insides.
“AJ, what are we doing at the airport? It looks like we may be having lunch on that nice plane, there.” I couldn’t help the uncertainty in my tone.
“Well, I got the impression Paris was your idea of a perfect getaway, and there’s only one way we’re going to get to ourdinnerreservation on top of the Eiffel tower.”
There were very few times in my life where anything could silence me, but in the space of one week, this man had had me stunned into silence several times. This being the longest and the most stunned I’d ever been in my life.
“What!” I gasped, shaking my head and blinking several times. “I don’t know what you just said.”
He laughed. “In short, I’m taking you to Paris for dinner.”
I sighed heavily. This was a dream and a joke rolled into one. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, but I hoped you’d look a little bit more into this.”
“AJ, people don’t just go to Paris for dinner and –”
“Yes, they do, Wren. We’ll just go, like you said. We’ll get on my plane and go.”
“Yourplane?” My eyes widened. Jesus, this was too much for my blood pressure. The man had a plane. I’d guessed he was well off because of the way he dressed, but I’d never thought he was this rich. It hadn’t even registered with the limo, but now it did.
His shoulders slumped a little. “Yeah, it’s my plane.”
“Who are you?” I had to ask that too, because this whole thing was bizarre.
