Our flight was at 9:30, but we had to leave for the airport by 6:30. At 6:15 I was drinking my second cup of coffee and staring out the window, watching the sun come up, when a black stretch limousine pulled up in front of my building. There was never any parking, so I rushed to the kitchen and dumped the rest of my coffee, then rinsed out my mug and grabbed my luggage. In the hallway, I pushed the button for the elevator, but realized I’d forgotten my other bag with my laptop. So I left my luggage and ran back to my apartment.

From down the hall, I heard the elevator ding its arrival as I locked my door for the second time. I didn’t want the car to have to circle the block, so I hurried to grab my bag as the doors slid open. Not expecting anyone to be inside the elevator, I barreled in without paying attention and crashed right into someone trying to exit.

“Shit.” I dropped the handle to the suitcase I’d been dragging behind me, and it tipped over and fell to the floor. Bending to pick it up, I continued, “Sorry! Are you oka—” I stopped in my tracks as I looked up. “Hudson?”

“I guess I should be grateful you didn’t swing at me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking you up to go to the airport.” He shrugged. “What else would I be doing here?”

I was thoroughly confused. “But where’s Olivia?”

“Oh, that’s right. I told Olivia I’d let you know I was going instead of her. It must’ve slipped my mind. Sorry about that.”

“But why are you going instead of Olivia?”

“She had a change in her schedule. Is that a problem?”

Other than my heart already hammering after being close to this man for one minute—and now I’d have to spend days by his side—what could be the problem with that? I looked into his eyes, not quite sure what I was searching for. Then I finally exhaled. I was a professional; I could handle this.

Straightening my spine, I said, “No. No problem at all.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a sparkle in his eye. But I didn’t have time to explore it since Hudson grabbed my wheely bag and held out his hand for me to enter the still-waiting elevator car. “After you.”

I felt very off-kilter, yet managed to step inside.

My mind raced with a million thoughts as we made our way down to the lobby, though one particular question stuck out. My building didn’t have a doorman. We had a buzzer system, and visitors had to be buzzed in. “How did you get in?”

“Fisher. He was heading out for a run when I arrived.”

I’d have to remember to thank my friend for the heads up. He knew I thought I was going with Olivia. He’d raided my refrigerator while I packed and told him all about my trip last night. But whatever—I had bigger fish to fry. Like how I was going to keep my distance from the man standing next to me in the elevator when he looked so damn good. Hudson had on a simple pair of navy slacks and a white dress shirt. I was standing a half step behind him, and it was impossible not to notice how nicely the material hugged his round ass. I bet he did a shitload of squats.

He looked over at me, and my eyes jumped to his in the nick of time. At least I hoped they had. Though the corner of his mouth might’ve said otherwise. Great. Just great. This is going to be one hell of a long trip.

Hudson had to take an overseas call on the ride to the airport, and then once we arrived, he was sent to a different line since he had security pre-check and I didn’t. I was grateful for the reprieve. It wasn’t until we boarded the plane that we really had time to talk. We were seated next to each other in row three of first class, which I hadn’t expected.

“Well, this is comfy.” I buckled my seatbelt. “I’ve never sat in first class before.”

“I could do coach years ago when there was more space between the seats, but over the last ten years they’ve made it impossible for someone over six-feet tall to sit comfortably—especially on a six-hour flight to the West Coast.”

A flight attendant walked over with a tray of orange juice in champagne flutes. “Mimosa?”

“Uh, sure,” I said. “I’ll have one.”

She passed me a flute and then looked to Hudson.

He held up his hand. “No, thank you. But I’ll take a coffee whenever you get a chance.”

“Sure thing.”

After she walked away, I held up my glass to Hudson. “Not a morning drinker?”

He smiled. “Not usually.”

“I probably should have skipped it, too, but my nerves are shot.”

“Nervous flyer?”

“No…not really. Though I sometimes get a little nauseous if there’s turbulence.”

“Great.” He pointed to the aisle. “Tilt your head that way.”

I laughed. “I’m guessing you’re the type who doesn’t even notice you’re on a plane. You probably work through half of it and then close your eyes and take a nap.”

“Close. I usually work through most of the flight.”

The flight attendant came back to deliver Hudson’s coffee. Service was definitely better up here than in coach.

“So what are you nervous about?” he asked. “If it’s not the flight?”

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe having my picture taken by a famous photographer so it can be plastered all over the Signature Scent marketing materials?”

Hudson looked back and forth between my eyes. “You want to know a secret?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

He leaned close and whispered. “You can do anything.”

I laughed. “That’s the secret?”

“Well, technically it’s not a secret since the only person who doesn’t seem to know it is you.”

I sighed. “That’s very kind, but I’m not so sure it’s true.”

Again Hudson took a moment to look at me. It seemed like he was debating whether he should say something.

“Do you remember your first day working in the office?” he finally asked.

“At Rothschild? Yes, why?”

“You asked me why I changed my mind about investing in your company.”

“You said your sister was very persuasive, or something along those lines.”

He nodded. “That wasn’t the whole truth.”

“No?”

Hudson shook his head, and his eyes dropped to my lips. “I wanted to get to know you. The week after my sister’s wedding, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It wasn’t because you’re beautiful—don’t get me wrong, you are. But I was attracted to your strength. You’re not a woman who needs a man. You’re a woman a man needs. I’m not sure I even recognized the difference years ago. But you make it impossible to forget now.”

I blinked a few times. “Wow. I think that might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.”

He frowned a little. “I assumed that jackass ex of yours was an idiot for the crap he pulled on you. But now I’m positive he’s a colossal moron.”

The flight attendant interrupted our conversation to collect our drinks since we were about to push away from the gate. Then the safety check started, and we watched the woman standing a few feet away from us put on a plastic, uninflated life jacket and show us how to buckle the belts we were all already wearing.

As we taxied onto the runway behind a backup of planes preparing to take off, Hudson offered me a newspaper. I declined in favor of popping in my earbuds and trying to relax. Though the minute I shut my eyes, I knew that wouldn’t be happening. Now I couldn’t stop thinking of what Hudson had said. He saw me as beautiful and strong, two things I hadn’t felt in a long time. And you know what? He was right—at least on the strength part, anyway. Lately I’d felt almost high from all I’d accomplished. I’d been nervous about taking on an investor, but that had turned out to be the best decision I’d made so far. And I’d been terrified about going on-air at the Home Shopping Channel, and that had been a resounding success. So why should I be afraid of getting a few pictures taken and putting my face on my company’s marketing? I shouldn’t. That was the answer to that question.

I took a few deep breaths and felt my shoulders relax. All I needed was some Vivaldi, and I might actually be one of those people who could take a nap on a flight. Who knew?

As the music started, I looked over at the man seated next to me. Hudson noticed my eyes on him and flashed an adorable face, one that was half crooked smile and half confused—as if he were trying to figure out what I was thinking, but glad whatever it was had me looking at him. I removed the earbud on his side and leaned over to him.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For seeing me the way you do. I know I can be a handful at times.”

Hudson looked into my eyes. “You are a handful. But don’t worry.” He winked. “I’ve got two big hands.”

***

“Welcome to Hotel Bel-Air. Are you checking in today?”

“Yes, under Rothschild,” Hudson said. “There should be two reservations.”

The woman behind the reception desk clicked her long nails against the keyboard while I gawked around the hotel’s lobby. I’d expected us to be staying in downtown LA in some trendy hotel, but this place was more like a hidden sanctuary in the woods. Hotel Bel-Air had an old-school Hollywood feel to it. It had all the standard luxury touches—marble columns and counters, limestone floors, natural wood ceilings—but something made it feel serene and private rather than flashy.

Hudson noticed me looking around. “The grounds are beautiful. You almost forget you’re in LA. I’ve stayed here once before, but the photographer picked it this time. We’re going to do the shoot here.”