Wes grinned, returning the warning in his own expression. “Understood.”
Jim nodded and waved a hand at the plane. “Now, go on, you don’t want to miss your flight out of New York. And remember, take care of my baby girl.”
“She’ll want for nothing,” he promised. It was a promise he intended to keep.
Wes tugged at his necktie, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he nodded and turned back to the plane and climbed the steps.
* * *
Callie briefly considered sitting down against one of the window seats and using her purse and backpack to put distance between her and Wes, then decided not to. She was a big girl and could handle him. Besides, there wasn’t much he could do to seduce a woman on a plane.
There was a large TV at the front of the cabin next to the space that led to the cockpit and the stewardess area. Callie set her purse and backpack next to the row of leather chairs and sat down. The leather gave against her weight, and she had to stifle the satisfied sigh at the feeling of sitting in such a luscious seat. She studied the TV for a minute before she saw a small shiny wooden cabinet beneath it that looked more like a part of the wall. Callie leaned forward and pressed against one corner of the door and the pressure latch clicked and the door opened. Inside, a wall of movies was revealed, along with a Blu-ray player and a couple of remotes.
Movies. She loved movies. Her father had called her a movie buff when teasing her, but it was true. There was something magical about the way a story was presented on the screen. She supposed film appealed to her because she was so visual, and it was like moving paintings, or dancing art, to her way of thinking.
Tilting her head to the right to better read the titles on the spines of the cases, she paused when she came to one. Laura. A 1940s film noir classic about a street-smart detective who falls for a beautiful woman whose murder he is investigating. It was one of her favorites. She started to pull the case out, then stopped and slid it back into place. This wasn’t her plane and she should ask Wes before using the player.
Surely Wes wouldn’t mind, and watching one of her favorite movies would help her relax. Besides, what was the point of riding in a plane decked out with the best of everything if you weren’t going to use it? Then again, Wes struck her as a workaholic, and maybe that intensity didn’t allow for sacking out and watching a movie on your private plane.
Callie felt a pang of envy remembering why exactly Wes had this private plane. He was an art specialist and traveled to Europe frequently to consult with museums, auction houses, and private collectors on pieces. That wouldn’t be work to her. To have a job like that would be a dream come true. A dream she’d certainly never get to live. At twenty, she knew she could still start college, but she hadn’t saved up and wouldn’t know where to begin the process of getting enrolled in a decent art school. The idea of figuring it all out and knowing she’d leave her father and the ranch behind was scary. She admitted that, and she hated herself just a little for feeling so scared of something she wanted. Even if she won this bet between her and Wes, and she was able to go to art school on a scholarship, what if she wasn’t good enough to stay?
The wave of depression that hit her made her sink back into the leather chair, her shoulders sagging. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay on the ranch forever, not when she knew Fenn and Hayden would be returning there to live permanently. She’d overheard her father and Fenn talking about it one night on the phone. The luxury cabins were Hayden and Fenn’s plan to save the ranch and create a business to run while living out there. And when they came home, the ranch was going to feel awfully crowded with her as a third wheel. She wasn’t stupid. There was no reason to torture herself or pour salt on her heart’s wounds.
“Your father said he has to get back to the ranch but to call him when we reach New York.”
She tensed and looked up to find him leaning in the doorway of the cabin, watching her. His red hair had grown a little in the month since she’d seen him. It was longer, almost touching the tips of his ears. She had the sudden urge to slide her fingers into his hair and see if it was as soft as it looked. Instead, she walked over to the small window on the opposite side of the plane and saw her father standing on the tarmac. He must have seen her because he suddenly lifted a hand and waved. She waved back, a lump forming in her throat as she tried not to bolt for the door and run back down to him. It was the first time she was really leaving her home and him and it was scary as hell.
“He’ll be fine. I told him he better take it easy while you’re gone otherwise he’ll ruin your trip by making you worry.” Wes’s hand settled on her shoulder in a gentle touch.
Scrubbing at her burning eyes, she moved back from the window and he allowed her to brush past him to return to her seat. She flinched when she realized she’d left the cabinet door open with all the movies displayed.
“You’re welcome to watch a movie.” Wes’s voice was gentle, amused, the almost sweet tone surprising to her. He slid out of his suit coat as he talked, then removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. Aside from the ranch, it was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him.
“Oh no, I couldn’t—”
“Nonsense.” He turned to his left, knelt in front of her as he faced the TV cabinet, and picked out a movie. Laura. He popped it into the disc player.
She stared at him. How in the hell had he known that movie was the one she wanted to watch? He hit play and powered on the flat-screen TV. He stood and walked into the attendant area, where he retrieved a briefcase and then, without so much as an invitation, sat down directly beside her, not looking at her. He buckled in and then dug around in his briefcase for some papers before he set the case on the floor and leaned back again, his lap covered in documents. He set his pair of cuff links down on the armrest and she reached for them, worried they’d fall to the floor. Their flat surfaces were etched with a letter T and a thorny branch entwined around the base of the letter. Elegant and edgy. Like him.
Did he have to do that? Sit right next to her when there were other seats? She blinked owlishly at him, almost disbelieving that he’d do that. It was to ruffle her, she was sure.
“You don’t have to sit there,” she almost whispered.
A devilish look came over him as he glanced at her, then leaned toward her conspiratorially. She leaned close automatically, wanting to hear whatever he planned to say.
“I have to sit here, darling. You’re cornered, just the way I like. That nervous edge makes your breath a little quick and I like knowing you’re thinking about how close I am to you.”
When he leaned back into his seat, she knew her jaw was scraping the floor as she gaped at him. Then irritation flared under her skin. He was toying with her! With a frustrated little growl, she turned away from him and focused back on the TV screen.
The sound of the movie momentarily distracted her and when she looked in his direction again, he seemed to be deep in his work. She could feel his body heat radiating off him. She half watched the film, and half watched him, fascinated and irritated. He was doing this on purpose, to rile her. The question was why? She couldn’t even guess. Even that kiss in the barn hadn’t been because he was attracted to her. Was this part of his attempt to win the bet? That was the only explanation and she still didn’t understand why he was so determined to sleep with her.
Men like him didn’t go for the little small-town girls like her. She would have bet everything that he liked girls who were stunning, sophisticated, women who wore tight dresses and strappy heels and knew how to politely laugh at anything he said. She wasn’t that girl. She liked running wild, feeling the rain on her bare skin, cuddling down in her PJs on the couch and watching old movies. Her eyes darted to the screen, where the detective was exploring the dead woman’s home and had stopped before a painting of the lovely woman.