Inside the cabin of the plane, the lone flight attendant on board greets me. Her blond hair is pulled back into a French twist on the back of her head while her bright red lipstick is a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. She has a very Gwen Stefani kind of style.
The attendant smiles at me, and I instantly relax because she appears friendly. “Good morning, Ms. Buchanan. I’m Abigail, and I’ll be with you through the duration of this flight. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. Mr. King has requested that we stock the cabin with your favorite things so there’s a good chance that we’ll have anything that you might need.”
“Um, okay. Thanks.” I stumble through my answer completely dumbfounded.
This surprises me. How would Alexander King know the first thing about what I like? He doesn’t really know me in the slightest and yet, somehow, he thinks he knows what my favorite things are.
I bet there’s not one thing on this plane that’s actually special for me. I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing, but I will not allow him to butter me up.
Alexander’s gaze lands on me as I stride down the aisle and take the seat directly facing him instead of taking a different seat somewhere else on the private jet. He smirks at my boldness to meet him head-on and I raise my eyebrow as we stare each other down.
It’s funny how we’ve grown accustomed to trying to one-up one another in the last week since I’ve begun working for him. As much as I hate to admit it, we are a lot alike. Both of us are headstrong, determined, and have this innate need to always win.
The cabin is silent for more than half the flight, and it’s almost as if we’re playing some weird quiet game—neither of us willing to say a word for fear that we may lose the standoff going on between us. Occasionally, he’ll glance up, and I’ll direct my gaze in any other direction other than at him. I mean, I’ll admit, I’ve been checking him out. He’s gorgeous, and I can’t help but appreciate the view. Any woman stuck on this flight like me would do exactly the same thing. She’s a liar if she tells you any different.
“Excuse me, Mr. King. Would you care for another scotch?” Abigail asks him shortly after he swallows down the last drop of amber liquid.
“Yes. That’ll be fine, Abigail,” he replies coolly and then gives her a polite smile which causes her to blush.
“Right away, sir.” The attendant turns to me. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Ms. Buchanan? I have Fiji water and strawberry yogurt.”
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Wow . . . um . . .”
I hesitate. Is it simply a coincidence that Fiji just happens to be my favorite brand of water along with having my preferred flavor of yogurt?
“If you don’t want those, we also have Diet Coke and Payday bars,” Abigail counters.
Diet Coke I can see, but Payday bars? That’s a pretty random item to keep on a plane. Especially since, judging by the looks of how fit Alexander is, he wouldn’t eat such an unhealthy snack. But I guess it is possible. The man seems to drink like a fucking fish so maybe he’s not all that healthy and his absurdly toned physique is just genetic.
Gah! If it is, that just gives me something else to hate him for.
I smile at Abigail as she waits patiently for me to make a selection. “I’ll have a Diet Coke, please.”
As soon as we’re alone, Alexander’s intoxicating gray eyes bore into me. “Are you not pleased with the items that I have arranged for you?”
My brow furrows. “How did you know what I like? Do you have spies watching me to ensure that I’m not digging into your business a little too much?”
He chuckles. “You act as though you still believe me to be afraid of you, Margo. I thought by now we’ve figured each other out. I don’t seem to rattle you, and you damn sure don’t affect me.”
“So what’s with all my favorite things on this flight?” I fire back.
He shrugs. “I’m observant. There’s not much that I don’t notice about the people around me, and let’s just say that I’ve taken a very big interest in what you’re up to. I like to know what makes people tick. It makes it easier for me to break them.”
I stiffen my shoulders. “I’ve got a newsflash for you, Mr. King. I don’t break.”
“Everyone has their breaking point, and sooner or later, I’m going to find yours, Princess.” He smirks, and I hate it when he does that. It’s a sexy expression, especially on him, and I hate that I find him attractive. He is such a smug bastard. “I see the way you look at me when we argue. I turn you on even though you don’t want to admit it. You and I are very similar creatures. We both love a challenge, and we both like to always be in control.”
I raise my eyebrow, still not believing anything that he says. “I thought you said you didn’t have spies.”
He licks his plump lips slowly, causing my eyes to flick down to his mouth. “What can I say, your reputation precedes you. Everyone knows that the Feisty Princess of Manhattan always demands her way.”
My mouth gapes open. “How dare you call me that? I hate that name.”