Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
"Sir, I understand that you would like another glass of wine, but I cannot serve you any more alcohol on this flight." I put as much authority into my voice as I can, hoping it will be enough to make him back down.
He snorts. "Who do you think you are, telling me what I can and can't have? I paid good money for this flight, and I want what I want." He unbuckled his seat belt and stands.
My cheeks flushing with anger. This man is a nightmare. I don't know what else to do.
A hand closes on my shoulder, startling me. There's another man here. He's so big I can't see Drew spying through the curtain. Like, this guy is massive. And if his tight dove-gray shirt is telling the truth, he's muscle-big. Not a hint of softness on him. Especially not in his face, which is glaring at the customer who is berating me. "She said no more drinks," he growls, all gravel and deep earth. My heart flutters.
"And who the hell are you?" my unruly customer demands.
"I'm someone who needs to be in Rome for a meeting that's more important than anything you've achieved in your entire pathetic life." He speaks calm and clearly, informing the demanding man of exactly where he belongs. He simply is important, and his presence indicates he's used to people knowing that. "So sit yourself down, leave this attendant alone, and let us take off. Otherwise you'll have more to worry about than your cheap wine buzz."
I watch as the unruly customer stares up at the massive man, his mouth agape. He sits down. It's clear he's caught off guard by the sudden appearance of someone unafraid to stand up to him. My heart is racing with a mix of fear and admiration for this man who's come to my aid. I've never seen him before, and I can't help feeling grateful for his intervention.
The man turns to face me, his expression softening as he takes in my obvious distress. "Are you okay?" he asks, concern lacing his deep voice.
If I was taken aback by his sheer size, then I’m completely bowled over by his face. His eyes pierce into me like he can see into my soul. His jaw is square and proud, his hair a slick dark swoop. He holds his head back like a man with nothing to prove, while a subtle grin plays at the corner of his peach-colored lips. He’s the most handsome specimen of manhood I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I’ve seen my share, as a flight attendant.
I nod, gulping down the lump in my throat, grateful someone cares, especially someone like him. "Yes, thank you. I'm fine."
He nods, his eyes flickering back towards the customer. "Good. Your job is hard enough without this shameless, pathetic excuse for a man making it worse."
The pink-faced man blinks, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. But before he can say anything, the big man leans forward, pressing into me. He smells heavenly––leather, freshly cut grass, and is that the ocean? Squeaking, the customer sits and faces the front, shrinking in his seat.
The big man turns to me again and the subtle grin has turned into an apologetic smile. "That's that, Ms..." he glances at my name tag. "Filia."
"Yeah. Uh, thanks again." I hesitate.
He must read my mind, because he grins wryly this time. "Marco.” For a moment his eyes wander the length of my body like he’s undressing me in his mind. His grin widens. “I should get back to my seat before we take off. I know how dangerous turbulence can be."
My heart races in my chest as I nod my head. "You listened to my safety instructions?"
"Of course. Only a fool would ignore tips to keep him alive." His voice is deep and soothing, and I can't help but feel a little comforted by it. “You’re a natural with that whistle.”
Oh god, oh no! He saw my fake make out session. Without thinking I run the back of my hand over my feverishly hot forehead. I’m so embarrassed I want to drop through the bottom of the aircraft and disappear somewhere in the baggage hold.
“Don’t worry,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially. “I don’t think anyone else saw.” He winks at me and I nearly drop dead on the spot.
“Th-thanks,” I murmur, flipping a loose strand of hair behind my ear and blinking up at him shyly.
I give him a small smile before turning to leave. As I start walking back towards the galley, I can feel his eyes on me. But they’re not the only ones. Drew is gawking, too. His mouth is agape. "What the hell was that?" he hisses.
Standing taller, I lift my chin, just like Marco does, and stand a little taller. "That was me doing my job. Go tell the captain we're ready for takeoff."