Page 78 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
“Okay.”
The woman smiles, satisfied, and moves on to attend to other passengers. Rosie comes back to us and resumes her drawing; her art supplies spread out on the table. Gabriel and I exchange brief glances. Of course. To outsiders, we could easily pass for her parents. Nobody would guess he’s her uncle and I’m just his assistant.
Gabriel smiles, then returns to his phone, while I lean toward Rosie.
“We’ve got about thirty minutes, then we can board the plane.”
"Does everyone always get sick?" she asks me casually.
“No, that only happens to very few people. And you don’t have to be afraid. Your tummy will tickle a little when the plane speeds up, and then we’ll lift off and fly through the clouds.”
“Okay.” For her, the subject is already settled. Thank goodness—kids process things in such a completely different way than adults.
I lean back and glance at Gabriel. For a moment, I catch sight of his phone screen: a chat. But when he notices my curiosity, he quickly turns the screen away and asks, “Are you afraid of flying?” I’m immediately distracted. My attention snaps back to him, straight into those deep green eyes.
“Not really. I feel a little uneasy, I prefer staying on the ground. But afraid? No.”
“I see. I also prefer driving, but you get used to it after a while.”
Half an hour later, we’re boarding. The first-class seats aren’t just wider and more comfortable—they also offer so much more legroom, which I absolutely welcome.
It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour flight, practically a hop when you consider we’ll be crossing the Netherlands, Germany, and Switzerland. Rosie sits by the window, and can't get enough oflooking at the world, which appears so tiny when you're up so high in the clouds.
“Do you think we’ll see some cloud ponies?” she asks excitedly.
Right—her children’s books have not only magical unicorns on land, but also in the sea and in the clouds.
“Hmm, let’s see. If we look really closely, I bet we’ll spot some,” I whisper dreamily, pulling her onto my lap so we can gaze out together.
I think I might have landed the best job in the world.
After landing, we head straight to the hotel. While Rosie and I enjoy ourselves in the pool, Gabriel is tied up in a business meeting. He doesn’t return until late at night. Since we booked a family suite, each of us has our own room, so I retreat—but I still hear him come in and listen attentively.
It’s a little after two in the morning and I couldn’t sleep anyway. Too many thoughts racing through my head. I set my book aside and slip into my robe, padding to the door.
Through the crack, I watch Gabriel drop his briefcase on the table before heading into his room. He looks tired and stressed.
Did the negotiations go well?
I notice another bag at the coat rack—probably samples of the olive oil.
Curiosity nudges me forward, and I creep through the living area toward his room. Just as I’m about to knock on the slightly open door, I see him through the gap.
He slips off his jacket, loosens his tie, then removes it altogether. Next, he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, while I just stand there, staring.
His well-trained back muscles are a sight to behold, and his backside looks all too good in those dark blue pants. Then comes the belt, which he slides out of the loops in one quick motion. I swallow hard. When he undoes his pants, a rush of images floods my mind.
I want to knock, to let him know I’m there—but now I don’t dare do it. I’m rooted to the spot. And turned on.
My gaze clings to his perfect backside and narrow hips, the sharp lines of his hip bones making me grin despite myself. Damn, he looks good. Too good not to stare. I bite my lip, my eyes trailing up from his navel, past the defined muscles, his chest, broad shoulders, his throat, his chin, that arrogant smirk, and—
Wait. What?
“Can I help you?” Gabriel laughs, amused, as our eyes meet. My face burns hot, but I can’t move. “I can see you …”
“Oh. I, um … sorry, I was going to knock …” I stammer nervously—and finally do just that.
“Come in?” Gabriel smirks, buttoning his pants again. Only the small lamp on the nightstand is on, so while the living room is dark, his bedroom is pleasantly dim.
