Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation by Maya Banks

table and a television. To her left between the seats and the cockpit was a small galley area complete with a steward.
    The older man smiled at her and welcomed her on board.
    As she and Evan took their seats, the steward introduced himself as William and asked her if she wanted a drink.
    She glanced at Evan then back at William. “Do you have wine?”
    William smiled. “But of course. Mr. Reese keeps the airplane stocked with all the necessities.”
    She’d agree that wine was very necessary.
    A few moments later, William returned with two glasses of wine.
    â€œThe pilot wished me to tell you he is ready for takeoff at your convenience.”
    Evan took the glasses and offered one to Celia.
    â€œTell him I’m ready.”
    â€œVery good, sir. I’ll close the doors and we’ll take off shortly.”
    â€œComfortable?” Evan asked Celia.
    She settled back into her seat and sipped at her wine. “Mmm, very. Nice jet.”
    She should have sat across the aisle from him, but that would be rude since he’d chosen the seat next to her. His nearness was killing her, though. His scent drifted enticingly across her nostrils and she could
feel
his heat. When he moved, his arm brushed against hers, and short of shifting in her seat—which would be terribly obvious—there was no escaping him. Furthermore, she didn’t really want to.
    It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest they use the time on the flight to go over her ideas, but she couldn’t bring herself to have business intrude.
    She mentally shook herself. Intrude on what? This wasn’t some romantic getaway. It
was
business. Only business and nothing else.
    It was unfair that she should be attracted to someone who was a solid no in her rule book. She’d never broken that unspoken rule. She had never been tempted to get involved with someone she worked with, or worse—a client. It didn’t matter, though, because she’d carry the stigma of someone who advanced her career by bestowing sexual favors.
    The memory sent rage curdling through her veins. She had to work at keeping her fingers relaxed. She’d worked damn hard to go beyond her family’s expectations. And to have it all taken away by someone in a position of power over her made her head explode.
    The advertising community was small, and gossip was rampant. She was under no illusion that fleeing New York made it possible for her to leave what happened behind. It hadn’t been private. It had been very, very public.
    She knew speculation ran wide. She knew people talked. Knew her coworkers probably whispered behind her back and pondered the possibility that she’d slept with Brock or Flynn Maddox to secure her position in the agency and to be granted the opportunity to land Evan Reese’s account. They probably thought she’d do whatever it took to persuade Evan.
    The only person she’d bothered to defend herself to was Brock, and she figured she owed him that much if he was going to hire her. Only he knew the truth about what really happened at her former agency. And when he’d assured her that she’d suffer no such situation here, she’d believed him. It might make her unbelievably naive after her last run-in with her boss, but Brock struck her as a deeply honorable man, and more importantly, someone who kept his word.
    â€œIs everything all right?”
    Evan’s softly spoken question jarred her from her thoughts. His hand had gone to hers, and he carefully uncurled her fingers that were wound so tightly that the tips were white.
    â€œDo you have a fear of flying?”
    She shook her head. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
    He studied her intently, his gaze stroking her cheeks and then her mouth.
    â€œSeems a shame to waste time on such unpleasant thoughts.”
    The urge to deny that her thoughts had been unpleasant lasted all of about two seconds. She wrinkled her