Twins for Christmas Read online

  Isla’s bright, beaming smile snapped me back into the present moment.

  “Hey!” she said, just as chipper as she’d been earlier that day.

  “Good to see you,” I said.

  Her big, dark eyes tracked to the plane behind me, the company jet that we’d be taking to our destination.

  “Is…is this us?” she asked as one of the pilots took her bag.

  “This is us,” I said. “The flight’s long, but we’ll at least be able to travel in style.”

  She seemed in total disbelief. I was halfway charmed by it.

  “I’ve never been on a private plane before,” she said. “Hell, I’ve only flown, like, three times in my life.”

  “You’ll get used to it quicker than you think. Come on.”

  Together we approached the plane and headed up the small staircase that led to the door. I kept my eyes on Isla as we entered, eager to see her reaction to the interior.

  It was just what I was hoping for.

  “Ho-ly…” she said, her voice trailing off as we stepped inside.

  She walked further into the cabin, eyes wide, taking it all in.

  “This…this is really nice.”

  “Nice” was probably an understatement. The Corliss private jet was one of the most luxurious planes that I’d had the pleasure of traveling on. The cabin was decorated in a sleek, modern style and had just about every amenity one could want while airborne. There was a full bar, Wi-Fi access, large-screen TVs, couches and chairs for lounging, and even a small kitchen. There was even a pair of small bedrooms in the back if one wanted to sleep through the flight.

  “Glad you like it,” I said. “But I have to warn you—once you fly like this you’ll have a hard time going back to coach.”

  “Then I’ll just have to become rich enough to earn one of these for myself,” she said with a grin.

  “Good attitude,” I said.

  It was. Her peppiness and ambition were already giving me a sense of admiration for her. She reminded me a little of how I was when I was that age, hungry and ready to take on the world.

  She continued her self-tour of the plane, and as she did the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, letting me know that we were ready to get moving.

  “Come on,” I said, gesturing toward a pair of seats. “Plenty of time to enjoy the plane once we’re in the sky.”

  The engines started up as the two of us sat down and buckled up. Moments later we were taxiing, and soon we were taking off. And as we did I couldn’t help but watch Isla out of the corner of my eye. She had a big, happy smile on her face, one that let me know she was more than thrilled to be on the plane.

  Her smile was something else. The way it made her face light up locked in my attention every time. And I couldn’t stop letting my gaze get lost by her hair, the way the light played on it like I’d noticed back on the runway.

  Focus, I told myself. She’s gorgeous, sure, but this is a work trip and nothing else. You’re doing this to raise your esteem in Edward’s eyes, not to tank it by going back on the understanding that we’ve come to.

  The two of us watched the glittering lights of San Francisco disappear into the distance as the plane rose higher and higher in the night sky. It was an incredible sight. The city looked as impressive as always, and the full moon in the cloudless sky cast the bay in a shimmering, silvery light.

  And it didn’t hurt that Isla had moved closer to the window to watch the view over my shoulder, the faint, floral smell of her perfume wafting around me.

  Focus, I told myself once again. You two are going to be working very closely over the next few days. Get used to her being around now.

  Once the city had vanished over the horizon, the plane leveled out and the pilot gave us the all-clear to get up and move around. I didn’t waste any time, quickly undoing my seat belt and making my way toward the bar.

  “So,” I said. “Here’s the situation—the flight is around thirteen hours. You can stay up and watch movies if you like, but the smart thing to do would be to get some rest.”

  “I’m down with that,” she said.

  “And I have something of a tradition for long, overnight flights like these,” I said, my gaze turning toward the long row of bottles as I tried to find the perfect one.

  “Oh yeah?” she asked as she kicked off her shoes and laid back on the couch, her hair spreading out. “What’s that?”

  “I like to have one good, stiff drink as the flight gets going. Helps me adjust to the altitude and sleep a little better. Usually find that I wake up extremely refreshed. Care to join me?”

  She pursed her lips together as she gave the matter some thought. Damn, even her trying to think was sexy and endearing in its own way.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m usually a wine girl, but something stiff sounds pretty good, actually.”

  “Eggnog would be a little more appropriate for the season,” I said. “But it looks like we’re all out.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Some eggnog with a splash of brandy. Okay, maybe more than a splash.”

  It sounded really, really good. I made a mental note have my personal shopper stock up on some eggnog so it was waiting for me in the fridge when I returned. Sure, the season will have technically passed by then, but I wasn’t exactly a stickler for tradition.

  “Oh,” said Isla as I poured us each a finger of whiskey. “Or maybe they have eggnog in Brazil.”

  “Brazilian eggnog?” I asked. “Is that a thing?”

  “It could be,” she said. “Maybe we can find out.”

  More infectious enthusiasm—I loved it.

  Once the drinks were ready, I stepped over to the couch and took a seat next to her. After the drink was passed off, I raised mine in the air.

  “To a productive and interesting trip,” I said.

  “Hopefully the good kind of interesting and not the bad kind,” she said.

  “Good point,” I replied.

  We tapped glasses and took our sips. Damn, the whiskey tasted as good as ever.

  I let the drink play on my palate for a moment before swallowing and sitting back in my seat.

  I regarded Isla for a time, watching as she continued looking around and taking in the scene. And I did my best to not be distracted by her beauty, as difficult as that was.

  “Okay,” she said. “What is it?”

  I was curious.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Damn—had I been busted?

  “You’ve got something on your mind, like something you want to ask me.”

  As I considered it, I realized she was right. Not just about my attraction to her, which I of course would not be bringing up. But about her coming along on this trip.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I wanted to just double-check that you weren’t put out by my request to come. I know this was last-minute and all.”

  “No,” she said, sounding sure of her answer. “Like I said, I’m happy to do it.”

  But then I was curious. Was it possible that, like Sandy, she’d had plans, but that she’d dropped them in order to come with me?

  “Did you really not have anything planned over the break?”

  I raised my palms, the index finger and thumb of my right hand wrapped around the glass.

  “No judgments or anything like that,” I said. “I didn’t have anything planned myself. Just curious, is all.”

  The brightness on her face faded, and an expression appeared that I hadn’t seen since we’d first met—sadness.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Isla took a sip of her drink and then shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “You’re not prying. It’s just that…” She paused, as if not sure what to say next. “…It’s just that the holidays are kind of a lonely time for me.”

  I turned my body toward her, letting her know without words that I was listening.

  “Go on,” I said.

  She took another sip, drumm
ing her fingers on the side of the glass as she rested it on her leg.

  “My parents died when I was a kid,” she said. “Car accident.”

  “My God,” I said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you,” she said, bringing her eyes up to mine for a brief moment before casting them down again. “And I…didn’t really have any other family—none capable of taking me in, anyway. So, I ended up in the foster system.

  “From there I bounced from family to family, not staying at any one place for too long. God, I don’t even know how many schools I went to, how many friends I made just to lose them when I got shipped off to another foster family.”

  “But you must’ve found a more permanent family, right? One that finally adopted you?”

  She shook her head sadly.

  “Never happened. And after a time I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me, you know? Something that I couldn’t see, but everyone else could.”

  “Of course that’s not right,” I said.

  “Eventually I asked at the adoption place if there was any family that was even thinking about me. I was around fourteen at the time. The woman there just looked at me with this sad expression and told me that there was a chance it might never happen. When families are picking out kids to adopt, she said, the younger, the better.”

  “So…it never happened?”

  “Never happened.”

  Isla took one more sip, rolled her shoulders, and sat up straight. I wondered if I’d slipped up and put her in a bad mood when she should’ve been relaxing and trying to enjoy the flight. But before I could dwell too long on the matter, a smile appeared on her face.

  “But it’s fine,” she said with a genuinely cheerful tone. “I was lucky that every foster family was really great to me. And because I didn’t really have any sort of consistent social life to worry about, I was able to really focus on school and kick serious butt in my classes.”

  “That’s great,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “And it’s not like I never had the chance to know my parents. They were wonderful to me and gave me a great childhood. They taught me to always be patient, always be kind, and to always look on the bright side of things.”

  “That’s a great way to look at life,” I said, meaning it. “They taught you well.”

  Another warm, sunny smile. I stirred where I sat, wondering if I was beginning to become a touch addicted to it.

  “Right,” she said. “No sense in getting upset about things that are out of your control, right? Just keep thinking positively, keep moving forward.”

  She took another sip of her drink and I did too, the two of us draining our glasses at the same time. And before either of us could say anything else, I yawned and Isla followed right along with me.

  “Wow,” she said. “How’d I get so sleepy?”

  “Altitude and the magic of booze,” I said, chuckling. “I have a little work to do before I turn in, but do you want me to show you to your room?”

  She considered the idea for a brief moment.

  “You know what?” she asked, kicking off her shoes. “I think I’m nice and comfy right here—if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Works for me,” I said.

  With that, she rested her head back on the couch. I sat for a time, thinking over what she’d told me. It was a hard life she’d had, and her attitude toward it was just as positive as I’d expect from the enthusiastic woman I’d met in the elevator.

  A thought came to me unbidden.

  She’s something special.

  It only took a few minutes before Isla’s chest began to rise and fall in the steady breathing of sleep. I dimmed the lights in the cabin before taking out my laptop, sitting down at one of the tables, and opening it up.

  But before I turned my eyes to the screen, I took one more glance at Isla.

  She was something special indeed.

  Chapter 6

  Isla

  I woke up the next morning feeling like a new woman—refreshed and energetic and ready for anything.

  As I opened my eyes, I realized that I was still on the couch, curled up. But there was a blanket on top of me, one that I didn’t remember wrapping myself in last night. I woke up further, hearing the rumble of the plane engine accompanied by the tap-tap-tap of fingers on a keyboard.

  I sat up and looked around as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The cabin of the plane was still so much to take in. Adam was right in that it was going to be hard to go back to coach after this.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  I turned my attention in the direction of his low, rich voice. He was seated at one of the tables with a laptop in front of him, the steam from his coffee rising and curling around his strong, cleft chin.

  He offered me a warm, confident smile as he slightly lowered the screen of his laptop.

  “Sleep well?”

  “I slept…incredibly,” I said. “Maybe the best sleep I’ve had in months. You sure were right about the little bit of whiskey helping with sleep.”

  “I think it’s that,” he said. “And the airplane engines. Perfect amount of white noise if you ask me.”

  I said nothing for a moment, listening to the engines. He was right—something about the light roar had a way of clearing out my head and allowing me to focus on nothing but relaxing.

  “Anyway,” he said, “there’s fresh coffee if you’re in the mood.”

  “Coffee sounds great,” I said. “Really, though, I’m thinking about that shower I’m going to take when we get to the hotel.”

  Another warm smile, this one more knowing.

  “Why wait?” he asked. “There’s a shower and full tub in the master bedroom.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “You’re not serious are you?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about a full bath. Go on in and take a look. I went ahead and put your bag in the bedroom, and there are fresh towels in the bathroom.”

  I didn’t need to hear another word. I got up and headed into the surprisingly spacious master bedroom—still having a hard time with the idea of a plane having a bedroom—and opened the small door that led to, sure enough, a very lovely little bathroom.

  I quickly stripped down and turned on the shower, steaming hot water pouring out instantly. When I stepped under the shower and felt that first blast of hot water, it took all the restraint I had not to let out a long “ahhh” that even the pilot would hear.

  I took my time in there, getting nice and clean and letting the hot water work its magic on my muscles. When I was done I wrapped myself in one of the ridiculously fluffy towels and spent a little time readying myself for the day.

  “How was it?” asked Adam as I stepped back into the cabin, dressed and totally refreshed.

  “You know, they like to talk about the mile-high club. But I think the real exclusive club with flying is people who’ve taken a shower up in the air and people who haven’t.”

  Adam let out a warm laugh, and my face went a touch red as I realized I’d just made a sex joke to my boss. But if he considered it some kind of breach of etiquette, he didn’t say anything.

  “Another one of those things it’s hard to come back from,” he said. “Really, I should be apologizing for spoiling normal flying for you.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “I can think of a way you can make it up to me.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “Unlimited access to the company plane, of course.”

  I gave him a wink to let him know I wasn’t being serious, as if it weren’t totally obvious.

  “Well,” he said. “If that’s what you’re looking for, then keep it—maybe you’ll have it someday.”

  I froze in place for a moment at his words. Was that really nothing more than a joke?

  Cool it, Isla, I thought. He’s just teasing you back. But then again…what if he really did see that in me? That maybe someday I’ll be
high enough in the company for something like that?

  I tossed the thought out of my head.

  “Something to eat?” he asked. “We’ve only got another hour or so to go before we land.”

  “No,” I said. “Don’t bother on my account.”

  In response he closed his computer and stood up. He was dressed in a pair of light gray slacks, shiny black loafers, and a crisp, white button-down shirt with a couple of the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up his toned forearms. A gorgeous silver watch, the cost of which I could only guess, completed the picture. Everything about his look was effortless style.

  “I insist,” he said. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us so you’re going to need to have energy. Besides, cooking is a hobby of mine, and I rarely get to do it for anyone but myself.”

  He made his way over to the small kitchenette, and I realized there wasn’t going to be any talking him out of it.

  Fine, I thought. A handsome man wants to make me breakfast; who am I to tell him no?

  He went to work, and I poured myself a tall mug of coffee and got comfortable on a nearby couch. I couldn’t tell what he was making, but it involved eggs and fruit. Before too long the cabin was full of the scent of cooking eggs and fresh fruit and rich coffee—the perfect aroma to start your day to.

  “So,” I said. “Big day. What’s on the agenda?”

  “We’re going to get right to it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as he worked. “The factory is near the city, and the hotel’s not too far from it. We’re going to swing by the hotel, have our bags taken in, and get right to checking out the situation at the plant.”

  “Not wasting any time, huh?”

  “Nope,” he said. “When there’s a task ahead of me, I never see any sense in not getting right to it. Why? You thinking you’ll need a couple of hours at the hotel to recharge?”

  I didn’t, and even if I did the last thing I wanted to do was to look like a slacker in front of my boss.

  “Nope,” I said with a smile. “Ready to go.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, returning my smile with one of his own.

  With that, he went back to preparing the food while I sat curled up with my coffee, going through some research about the plant and the culture in Brazil on my phone. Before too long Adam approached with a single plate and placed it in on the coffee table in front of me.