Fly Me Home: Home is Where the Heat Is, Book 4 Read online

  He pulled the sliding glass door open, spilling more steam into the room. “Great. Want to join me?”

  She shook her head. No way was she getting near him. Damn, he looked good. Water had never looked as enticing as it did surfing over the muscles of his shoulders and chest. “I’ll take one after.”

  “Sore?” He dragged his hand through his hair before cuffing a droplet of water off his freshly clipped goatee.

  Cripes, he was sexy. “And it’s eight. Don’t we have somewhere we need to be?”

  He leaned an arm against the glass. “Yeah. But I have a bunch of reviews to edit before I turn them in. I’m thinking I might have to skip the first show so I can get them done.”

  She’d taken up a lot of his time. Time he usually spent working. Feeling a bit guilty, and curious, she offered, “I could read them and give you my opinion if you think it would help.”

  “You’d really do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course.” What an odd question.

  “You know…” He grinned and shook his head. “At some point you’re going to have to show me your baggage.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Baggage,” he reiterated. “The fatal flaw in your perfectly rounded person? Everyone has baggage. No one is perfect. It’s time you told me yours.”

  “What’s yours?” Two could play at this game. Not to mention, it gave her time to stall. She didn’t know what her fatal flaw would be. It would be different for any person depending on their acceptance levels.

  “I’m the product of rich parents who didn’t have time for me. I’m an overachiever. I’ve never quite found the level that makes me feel like I’m important or a success. Since my parents are dead, proving it to them is never going to happen so I cope by finding new ways to become even more famous. This, of course, causes most people to leave me because my work comes first, love second. I can’t change it, either. I’ve tried.”

  Every word he uttered held a note of absurd truth. The fact that he spoke about it like a joke strummed a very deep chord inside her heart. “When?”

  He looked startled. “When what?”

  “When did you try?” she clarified.

  “With Jimmy.” He shut the water off and climbed out. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself while he talked. “He had a noble cause. Doctors Without Borders is an amazing organization. What does it say that I wasn’t willing to give up my life to go with him and support him in what he was doing? Fashion is not famine. There’s no comparison, and I chose my life.”

  Everything about Ian Malcolm was a treat. Right down to his guilt. “Yeah, you’re a real piece o’ shit for wanting what you want.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Thanks?”

  Liz took a deep breath. Nothing about this man should ever surprise her, but the way his mind worked fascinated her on a level she’d never comprehend. For the first time, she really saw him as the man he was instead of the fashion guru. And she realized she loved him for every aspect of who he was. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself, and all she could do was offer a weak, “Time to pull in yer horns.”

  “What?”

  He stared at her. Naked. Confused, and utterly sexy.

  “Stop looking for trouble,” she maintained. It surprised her that he carried any remorse for what could have been. Ian seemed to take on every situation with a roll-with-it attitude. It was a shock to realize he harbored hopes, wishes, even regrets. “Feel guilty for not joining Doctors Without Borders, or PETA, or a gay rights group. But don’t feel guilty for not following someone else’s dream. I don’t know Jimmy, but if he really loved you, he wouldn’t have expected you to give up your life for him. He would have been willing to make both work, even if it was tough.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Good advice. Now it’s your turn.”

  Yeah, she’d figured she wouldn’t get off that easy. Fatal flaw? Did she have one? “I guess I can be jealous.”

  “Really?” He stopped toweling off. “I never would have guessed. You mean like bad jealous? Are you going to stalk me and steal my future lovers’ underwear?”

  “That’s what I like about you.”

  “Quit stalling.”

  She wasn’t stalling this time. She needed him to know why they worked the way they did. “I’m not. I love that we can have a serious talk, get to know each other a little more, and you still manage to make it fun. It makes it really easy to share things with you.”

  “An excellent snapshot of us, but still not what I need to hear.”

  Stubborn man.

  “Fine.” Honesty first, even if it was embarrassing as hell. “No. I won’t stalk you once we part ways. But while we’re together, I don’t want your body parts near anyone else unless I know or am part of it, like with Arjun. Other than that, I say chest bumps and handshakes are your best bet for either sex until my ass is back in Texas.”

  He laughed at the admission. Hard. “Anything else?”

  Was there? One, she guessed, not that it would affect him long term. “I’m a homebody. As much as I’m enjoying myself, I ache for home nearly every moment. Your life is an exciting whirlwind, but I miss lazy, hot Texas evenings sitting on my porch swing, looking at the stars in total, almost scary, silence. It’s on evenings like that when I realize how small I am in such a huge world.”

  His expression changed to serious, his gaze intense. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked close, invading her space until she was backed up against the wall. “That’s your baggage. Right there. The fact that you ever think you’re small or insignificant. I can’t tell you how big you are or what impressions you make on everyone you touch. There’s no way for me to explain how much pleasure you’ve brought into my life in the last few weeks.”

  He kissed her then, pressing his body to hers, cupping her face. It wasn’t erotic as she’d come to expect. It was warm and sweet and all too endearing considering she’d just figured out that she had feelings for him she didn’t need to be having. But she savored it just the same.

  Too soon, he pulled back. “Go read the reviews while I get dressed or we won’t be leaving this room for a while.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ian opened the door from the bathroom a few minutes later. While he felt refreshed and ready to tackle the day, the fact that Elizabeth was reading the reviews he’d written made him a bit nervous. A rarely experienced emotion since… Well, never. He wasn’t even sure why he’d taken her up on her offer other than the fact he’d needed a focus beyond his unruly cock and its wants.

  Maybe a quickie would have been better. At least then he wouldn’t be standing in the bathroom wondering what she thought about his reviews.

  Shit. He’d been honest in his assessments, as always. There were so many fish in the proverbial fashion sea, he had to weed out the never-would-be’s, from the could-be’s, from the damn-straight-will-be’s. Sometimes, he had to do it with a brutal review.

  Knowing soft and sweet Elizabeth was reading them made him cringe.

  He’d never felt self-conscious before. But knowing how she viewed the world with a rose-colored, glass-half-full optimism, he could almost imagine her horror at his honest opinion of the designers he’d seen so far.

  He walked into the room, squaring his shoulders, hating that he hoped she agreed, or at least understood where his reviews came from.

  No such luck.

  She sat curled up in a recliner by the window. He’d never seen her wear glasses. They made her look even softer. Until she pushed them up to the top of her head, holding her hair back to reveal even more than the normal amount of her expressive face.

  She met his gaze head-on and held the papers up in a clump. “Even Navya? I thought she was amazing, especially in the private viewing. This review will kill her career.”

  “No.” Ian struggled for an explan
ation. So many things had become old hat, he forgot others didn’t see the intricacies hidden beneath the beautiful clothes and models shown to the world, or how ridiculous it would seem to an outsider. “That review is actually glowing, by industry standards.”

  Her eyebrows shot about as high as a not-photo-shopped duo could get.

  “Glowing?” She rifled through numerous pages before settling on one. “Yeah. I’m sure the ‘infantile color coordination’ comment will set her heart to a pitter-patter. Oh, and let’s not forget ‘held back by fear’. My personal favorite has to be ‘settled for predictable trends rather than forging her own’.”

  Okay. So picked apart bone for bone he could see her point. “In this industry, those are actually compliments.” Her jaw tightened fractionally and he knew he was going to have a fight on his hands. And he was so game when the adversary was as sinfully enticing as his Elizabeth. “In each instance you pointed out, there is a prelude or follow-up that means more than what my opinion was.”

  She slapped the papers on the table. “You’ll have to explain. My over-tired mind is obviously incapable of figuring out your word play.”

  “Fine.” He chuckled and dropped down on the bed next to her chair. “We’ll start with the ‘infantile color coordination’ remark. I followed it up, saying she would benefit by exercising her knack for mixing ordinary color schemes into something original.”

  “That’s a bit—hidden. Isn’t it?”

  “Not for a designer.” Elizabeth’s kindness staggered him at every turn. “They look for hidden meaning and grow from the reviews.”

  “What about your ‘held back by fear’ comment?”

  Ian grabbed her hand and traced the fine lines on her palm. “Think about it. What did she show us during the private viewing?”

  “Amazing creations.”

  “We didn’t see those at the show.”

  “No.” Her eyebrows scrunched. “And some of them were really good. Very original.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay.” She shook her head. “I get it, I guess. But how do you live with yourself knowing you can crush a designer’s dreams with one review?”

  Ian hadn’t thought about it in a long time. Maybe never. He’d been honest in what he thought from the start and it had taken him right to the top. “I never really thought about it beyond the review. These people put their work out there for the world. I’m one voice. Some have potential, others not so much. In either case, none of the designers this year have shown the guts or artistic bravado to impress me. It’s my job to report that.”

  “It all seems a bit cold.” She shifted in her chair, her hands stroking up his forearms. “Don’t you want to give them hope? Encourage them to do better?”

  “That’s what I did.” Ian stood and started pacing. She wanted him to give a shit? Not possible. “I have to do my job. Whether you think it’s negative or not, I owe it to every designer and fashion magazine to be honest. They’ve come to expect certain things from me.”

  “To be a jerk?” she snapped.

  “Yeah.” Damn, how could she make him feel like crap with those few words? “That’s how I learned to tackle life. Be tough, make it, be the best at all costs. In a world that will chew you up and spit you out at will, I learned to fight back and be brutally honest.”

  She shot him a dark glare. “Your teachers must have been hard-asses.”

  They had been, but she had no idea. “Yeah, they were. Right up until they died in a plane crash, left me all their money, and nothing else.”

  Liz bit her lip. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Open mouth and insert boot. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  She eased up from the chair and walked over to stand next to him. His shoulders were stiff, and he stared out the window with an empty expression. “Even when I did something right, it wasn’t enough for them. It might not be an acceptable skill, to be brutally honest, but it’s served me well.”

  Wow, she’d royally screwed up a great morning. All because she’d had her feelings hurt for people she didn’t even know. Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him tight, pressing her cheek to his warm back. “I think maybe we found more of my baggage. I guess I didn’t realize how condescending I can be.”

  He swiveled in her embrace and smiled down at her. “I’m thinking I didn’t do my own baggage justice either. It’s all good.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “We need a break.”

  His brows furrowed and his hold on her arms tightened. “Wait a minute. This wasn’t anything. We don’t need time apart.”

  The statement confused her for a moment, then she smiled. “Not a break from each other. A break from everything. From reviews, fashion, even sex.”

  “Now you’re talking crazy.”

  His hands drifted through her hair and she stood on tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Yep. But you trust me, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Her heart skipped a bit at how quickly he answered. “Good. Get dressed. We’re going to take the next hour to ourselves.”

  Without waiting for him to reply, she headed for the shower. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  And damned if she wasn’t.

  He’d barely flopped back on the bed ready to wait when she was hopping up next to him, her damp hair coiled and clipped in a ragged bun. “Ready?”

  She wore jeans and a simple white pullover sweater with wide enough netting to show glimpses of her peach tank top underneath. It was the first time he’d seen her in her own clothes, in her natural way, and the effect was staggering.

  Her smile was infectious, and he let her lead him from their hotel. The streets were quiet for a while and he relaxed, enjoying her chatter and the way she held his hand. When they turned the corner into the open market, the city came to life. Liz dragged him from one stall to the next, loading her canvas bag with exotic foods and a bottle of wine.

  She glanced at him shyly when she stopped at yet another stall and picked up a magnet of the Akshardham Temple. “Mama collects magnets. My brother Britton and I always bring her something from any place we visit.”

  “Wait a minute.” They’d talked a lot in their time together, but she never once mentioned a brother until now. “You have a brother?”

  “Yeah. He’s older by three years. And he’s—different than me.”

  “Meaning?”

  She picked through a few more magnets before sighing. “He lives his own life. He kinda has since Pa died. It’s been a couple years since I even talked to him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She dropped a magnet back on the table and glanced his way. “Why?”

  “Because I can see that it bothers you that he’s not around.” It was an easy answer. For Ian, not being around his family was the norm. It was easy to accept. But he could see the toll distance took on Elizabeth. She was all about family. Anything that hurt her made him feel bad. He couldn’t fix it for her, but he could let her know he heard what she was too strong to say. “If I could make him be there for you, I would.”

  For a long moment, she just stared at him. Then her shoulders relaxed and her smile returned. “You’re really good to me. You know that?”

  “I try,” he offered. He didn’t expect the quick kiss she pressed to his lips, and he really didn’t have time to process why she did it or what it meant. In the next second she was back to her exuberant mood.

  “I’ve picked up a magnet from each stop we’ve made so far but I haven’t found one for Delhi that I like yet.”

  Switching tracks, Ian followed her lead. “So what’s wrong with the temple? That’s a landmark.”

  She shrugged. “Nothing really. I’m sure it’s a well-known and a touristy site… But I always try to find something different or realistic. After Britton and I started with magnets, we realized we should have done postcards. Mama alw
ays wanted to travel the world, and she tells her friends about our travels like they’re her own. Britton has flown all over the world. My travels, until now, have been by car. I know she wishes she could have traveled herself, so this is my way of making it as real as possible for her. She gave up so much to raise us. My pa died when I was young. I always try to give her something that makes her feel like she’s been there.”

  “We’ll find one.” Her endearing traits just didn’t end. The emotion in finding, and the importance of, a single magnet came through in her explanation. “You’re so homegrown sweet it’s almost ridiculous.”

  “I know.” Her smile was huge. “Britton always said I was born a grandmother. Even when I was like four or five, my favorite thing to do was go to my gram’s house for her weekly family supper. There were about twenty of us packed into her little house, but I loved every minute of it.”

  “Sounds—interesting.” Hoping to keep the horror from his expression and voice, he pointed at a couple different magnets. “If my grandmother had ever bothered to stop chasing the young gardeners long enough to throw a family supper, murder would have ensued. No one in my family gets along.”

  She shook her head at the magnets and grabbed his hand. “That’s too bad. Everyone needs a family.”

  He followed her through the crowds until she veered onto a small grassy area overlooking the market. Stopping right in the middle, she plopped down cross-legged and patted the grass next to her. “Let’s eat.”

  He sat down, but he felt awkward and out of place. This wasn’t his thing. Cafés and nightclubs were more his speed, but he was quickly finding all things Elizabeth intriguing. He watched her simple happiness as she spread out all the goodies she’d bought. Some he recognized, others he didn’t. She jabbered a mile a minute and somehow conned Cain into joining them for their impromptu brunch.

  He’d forgotten, as he often did, that Cain was nearby. Always at his back, always hovering. It wasn’t often they had a chance to talk on a friendship level, and it was easy to catch up because they had so many stories to tell Elizabeth.