Blindsight: Book One

FIVE

JUST THREE DAYS AFTER taking a new job and I was wheels up and peering out at a midnight navy sky, the golden-dotted glow of neighborhoods mapped out below us in an intricate lacework of hues. We'd boarded a late night private flight direct to Portugal so Hunter could shoot the mistress of a wealthy head of state the following morning. My eyes had widened when he'd offered the few details, but he'd quickly reminded me that I'd signed a non-disclosure, and what happened on location, stayed on location.

My gaze roamed over the richly-accented cream leather of the jet just as Hunter's eyes lifted from his laptop and landed on mine. He was dressed in casual denim jeans, worn and soft, and a fitted white thermal shirt.

I sighed and shifted in my seat, trying to quell the insistent hum between my thighs that'd become a problem whenever I was around him. Hunter's eyes roved down my denim-covered legs and then back up again, a quirk of his lips belied that he knew I was uncomfortable. Aroused.

"Nervous?" His rich voice vibrated off of every cell in my body.

"Of flying? I've done it lots of times." I sighed as I felt a slow headache pushing into my frontal lobe.

"Good." He stood and approached my seat, his languid body moving one sinewy muscle at a time. "But I didn't mean the flight." He sat in the seat beside me, pulling up the arm rest and leaning in. "I meant traveling out of the country with a stranger," he finished, his breath licking across my earlobe and leaving me without my own.

"Should I be?" My heart beating quicker with my reply.

"What does your instinct say?" I found his eyes blazing, deep and dark into my own. He pulled away then and cocked a grin, arms folded across his chest, showcasing the lean lines of his tattoo-etched muscles.

"My instincts are telling me that the look in your eye could be dangerous."

His cocky grin deepened.

"But mostly they're saying you're like a Chihuahua."

The laugh that barreled out from his chest had shards of happiness splitting across my cheeks. When he'd finally caught his breath, he inquired, "Chihuahua?"

"All bark and no bite." I smiled, satisfied that I'd taken his cocky attitude down a few notches.

His eyes shifted down to my lips and then across my cheekbones before landing on my eyes again. "I definitely bite."

The air deflated from my lungs and suddenly I was left without words or sense.

"But not before you beg me to," he said, pulling my leg into his lap, working the calf in slow, decadent circles.

"Hunter, this is a working relationship only. I would never jeopardize..." I paused, my cheeks heating with the lie. I had a feeling my shifting thighs and erect nipples told the true story of just what I was thinking.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't." He relaxed into his chair with a grin, my leg still in his lap. "I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't think you were a professional first, but I happen to be of the personal belief that two consenting adults can engage in adult activities outside of office hours." His thumbs worked a slow, seductive rhythm on my calves. "But that's beside the point." He winked. "I want to know all about Erin Warner."

I shook my head and settled further into the leather and his warm hands. "There isn't much to tell. A proud graduate of Clearview High School. Go Dogs!" I raised my arm in a silly cheer. "Bachelors from Northwestern—"

"I don't want your resume, Erin. Tell me the stuff the paperwork can't." His eyes burned into mine with heated interest.

An odd sense of prickling awareness traveled through my skin then, as if we'd known each other before and I could divulge to him all my skeletons without fear or shame. "My mom was nineteen when I was born and my dad left town before my first birthday. She was a single parent so it was tough. We made it, but it wasn't easy."

"Hard life for a kid." A shadow of sadness cloaked his eyes.

"Yeah, but he wasn't a good guy. That's all my mom ever says...'Trust me, you don't want him in your life.' I used to imagine he joined the circus and was on tour around the country," I smiled at the long-lost memory. "Every year when they came to town, while my friends were riding the rides, I would skulk behind the scenes looking for a carnie with my wavy dark hair and high cheekbones." I shook my head. "Imagine if he really was a carnie." I rolled my eyes at the little dreamer I'd held tight to my heart even then.

"Well, at least you had your mom?" he offered with a ray of hope.

"Well, yes, I had her." I chuckled ruefully. "It wasn't easy being her daughter most days, but I escaped in school and she worked. When I turned seventeen, I graduated early and moved out. I couldn't stay under her roof a second longer." I twisted my hands in my lap, hating to bring down the conversation with another story of a painful childhood. "But it could have been worse." I smiled, choosing to keep the rest for another day. That story was too big to reveal to a handsome stranger so soon.

WE SETTLED IN A small black car that whipped out of the taxi line entirely too fast and breezed us through the streets of Lisbon. The landscape melted from sunburnt streets to warm-hued fields that led to the unknown reaches of this Old World country.

"I feel like you know my life story, and you've sat along nodding and asking questions without telling me a thing about yourself." My eyes cut to his, regarding me with a casual interest.

"I like to let the past lie in the past." He shrugged.

"How do I know I can trust myself in your hands then?" I grinned, crossing my legs and leaning into him. Our knees brushed and lit fire through my pulsing bloodstream.

"If you can trust anyone," he huffed, "it's me. With complete confidence." He shot me that signature cocky grin. "You know what I want to know..." He trailed a finger across the seat, brushing it against my thigh and blasting fireworks in every direction. "I want to know all the things you don't tell people. The bad things you've done, the things you keep..." his fingertips inched higher up my thigh, "to yourself." His thumb brushed across the inner seam of my jeans before running back down to land more safely at my knee.

"I don't think so." I tried to control my racing heart.

"I'll get it out of you." He laughed and twined his fingers through mine for a brief second. I swallowed the shock and glanced down at his golden skin against my own, paler version. "Thanks for coming with me." His fist tightened around mine.

"Of course." I flashed a reassuring smile. "And as for the other stuff," I winked, "those are details you've got to work for." I found myself slipping into a flirty, weak-kneed teen when I was around him.

"Oh, I plan to," he murmured just as the car pulled to a slow stop.

"Where are we?" I followed Hunter out of the car and into an opening in the trees, light filtering in through vibrant shades of green and dappling the forest floor. A stark contrast to the Mediterranean landscape that'd been blurring by our windows just minutes ago.

"We walk from here."

"Excuse me?" I said, certain I'd misheard.

"I rented a villa for the shoot. The model will be here all day tomorrow―she too will have to walk, so it's not just you, Princess." His mouth lifted in a taunting smile before he continued. "There are some great locations around the grounds I want to shoot. Just made more sense to stay here too."

"We have to walk..." I groaned as he stood opposite me, feet planted firmly on the ground in his rugged leather boots. I rubbed at my forehead, already damp with the humidity, and vowed to keep this as pleasant as possible. He was still my boss, first and foremost. And sexy, and rugged, and infuriating, and thoughtful, and... I sighed, realizing the tight spot I'd somehow found myself in. I needed this job, desperately. "How long's this hike?" I started off down the narrow trail that wove through the thick trees.

"Half a mile."

"What?!" I whipped around and was met with an amused grin that broke into a full laugh upon seeing my face.

Infuriating as fuck, that's exactly what Hunter Ellis was.

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