8 -Heartbeats -

He is punctual, of course, and waiting for me when I leave Lindsey's. He climbs out of the back of the the Lexus car to open the door and smiles warmly at me.

"Good evening, Miss Elaine," he says.

"Mr. Alicanté ." I nod politely to him as I climb into the backseat of the car. James is sitting in the driver's seat.

"Hello, James ," I say.

"Good evening, Miss Elaine ," his voice is polite and professional. Jace climbs in the other side and clasps my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that I feel all the way though my body.

"How was work?" he asks.

"Very long," I reply, and my voice is husky, too low, and full of need.

"Yes, it's been a long day for me too." His tone is serious.

"What did you do?" I manage.

"I went kickboxing with Damon." His thumb strokes my knuckles, back and forth, and my heart skips a beat as my breathing accelerates. How does he do this to me? He's only touching a very small area of my body, and the hormones are flying.

The drive to the airport t is short and, before I know it, we arrive. I wonder where the fabled private airplane might be. We're in a built-up area of the city and even I know airplanes need space to take off and land.

James parks, climbs out, and opens my car door. Jace is beside me in an instant and takes my hand again.

"Ready?" he asks. I nod and want to say for anything, but I can't articulate the words as I'm too nervous, too excited.

"James." He nods curtly at his driver, and we head into the building, straight to a set of elevators. Elevator! The memory of day dreaming kiss this morning comes back to haunt me. I have thought of nothing else all day. Daydreaming at what can never happen .

I know why Jace is doing all this for me, it's surely because we were closed friends, I'm sure, he can never fall for a mouse little thing like me, when models and celebrities are worshipping at his fucking billionaire feets.

To say I've been distracted would be the understatement of the year. Jace glances down at me, a slight smile on his lips. Ha! he says dryly, his neon eyes dancing with amusement. He's telepathic surely. It's spooky. What crazy stuff is he thinking up again. Jace Alicanté we never stop to amuse me.

I try to keep my face impassive as we enter the elevator. The doors close, and it's there, the weird electrical attraction crackling between us, enslaving me. I close my eyes in a vain attempt to ignore it. He tightens his grip on my hand, and five seconds later the doors open on to the roof of the building. And there it is, a white airplane bigger like the Ex Boeing 208 with the name Alicanté Enterprises Holdings Inc. written in black with the company logo on the side. Surely this is misuse of Company property.

He leads me to a small office where an old timer sits behind the desk.

"Here's your flight plan, Mr. Alicanté . All external checks are done. It's ready and waiting sir. You're free to go."

"Thank you, Stephano ." Jace smiles warmly at him.

Oh. Someone deserving of the polite treatment from Jace , perhaps he's not an employee. I stare at the old guy in awe.

"Let's go," Jace says, and we make our way toward the plane. When we're up close, it's much bigger than I thought. I expected it to be a like the version for 208, but it has at least 10 seats. Jace opens the door and directs me to one of the seats at the very front.

"Sit - don't touch anything," he orders as he clambers in behind me.

He shuts the door with a slam. I'm glad that the area is floodlit, otherwise I'd find it difficult to see inside the small cockpit. I sit down in my allotted seat, and he crouches beside me to strap me into the harness. It's a four-point harness with all the straps connecting to one central buckle. He tightens both of the upper straps, so I can hardly move. He's so close and intent on what he's doing. If I could only lean forward, my nose would be in his hair. He smells, clean, fresh, heavenly, but I'm fastened securely into my seat and effectively immobile. He glances up and smiles, like he's enjoying his usual private joke,

his neon eyes heated. He's so tantalizingly close. I hold my breath as he pulls at one of the upper straps.

"You're secure, no escaping," he whispers, his eyes are scorching. "Breathe, Sarah," he adds softly. Reaching up, he caresses my cheek, running his long fingers down to my chin which he grasps between his thumb and forefinger. He leans forward and plants a brief, chaste kiss on my cheek, leaving me reeling, my insides clenching at the thrilling, unexpected touch of his lips.

"I like this harness," he whispers.

What?

He sits down beside me and buckles himself into his seat, then begins a protracted procedure of checking gauges and flipping switches and buttons from the mind-boggling array of dials and lights and switches in front of me. Little lights wink and flash from various dials, and the whole of the instrument panel lights up.

"Put your cans on," he says, pointing to a set of headphones in front of me. I pop them on, and the rotor blades start. They are deafening. He puts his headphones on and continues flipping various switches.

"I'm just going through all the pre-flight checks." Jace's disembodied voice is in my ears through the headphones. I turn and grin at him.

"Do you know what you are doing?" I ask. He turns and smiles at me. Well I have to ask, because I'm too young, hot, achieving and beautiful to die on a day like this, with this dickhead Jace.

"I've been a fully qualified pilot for five years, Sarah , you're safe with me." He gives me a wolfish grin. "Well, while we're flying," he adds and winks at me.

Winking... Jace !

"Are you ready?"

I nod wide eyed.

"Okay, tower. PBX this is Charlie Tango Golf - Golf Alicanté Hotel, cleared for take-off. Please confirm, over."

"Charlie Tango - you are clear. PBX to call, proceed to one four thousand, heading zero one zero, over. "

"Roger tower, Charlie Tango set, over and out. Here we go," he adds to me, and the plane rises slowly and smoothly into the air.

Himey disappears in front of us as we head into US airspace, though my stomach remains firmly. Whoa! All the bright lights shrink until they are twinkling sweetly below us. It's like looking out from inside a fish bowl. Once we're higher, there really is nothing to see. It's pitch black, not even the moon to shed any light on our journey. How can he see where we're going?

"isn't it?" Jace's voice is in my ears.

"How do you know you're going the right way?"

"Here." He points his long index finger at one of the gauges, and it shows an electronic compass. "This is an PC135 plane. One of the safest in its class. It's equipped for night flight." He glances and grins at me.

"There's a planepad on top of the building I live in. That's where we're heading."

Of course there's a planepad where he lives. I am so out of my league here. His face is softly illuminated by the lights on the instrument panel. He's concentrating hard, and he's continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drink in his features from

beneath my lashes. He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, square jawed - I'd like to run my tongue along his jaw. He hasn't shaved, and his stubble makes the prospect doubly tempting. Hmm... I'd like to feel how rough it is beneath my tongue, my fingers, against my face.

"When you fly at night, you fly blind. You have to trust the instrumentation," he interrupts my erotic reverie.

"How long will the flight be?" I manage breathlessly. I wasn't thinking about sex at all, no, no way.

"Less than 19 hour 42minutes, the wind is in our favor."

Hmm, less than 19hour and 42 minutes to Cali? ... that's not bad going, no wonder we're flying.

I have less than an hour before the big reveal. All the muscles clench deep in my belly. I have a serious case of butterflies. They are flourishing in my stomach. Holy shit, what has he got in store for me?

"You okay, Sarah?"

"Yes." My answer is short, clipped, squeezed out through my nerves.

I think he smiles, but it's difficult to tell in the darkness. Jace flicks yet another switch.

"PBX this is Charlie Tango now at one four thousand, over." He exchanges information with air traffic control. It all sounds very professional to me. I think we're moving from New York air space to California International Airport's.

"Understood Sea-Tac, standing by over and out."

"Look, over there." He points to a small pin-point of light in the far distance. "That's Cali."

"Do you always impress women this way? Come and fly in my helicopter or private airplanes?" I ask, genuinely interested.

"I've never bought a girl up here, Sarah. It's another first for me." His voice is quiet, serious.

Oh, that was an unexpected answer. Another first? Oh the sleeping thing, perhaps?

"Are you impressed?"

"I'm awed, Jace ."

He smiles.

"Awed?" And for a brief moment, he's his age again.

I nod.

"You're just so... competent."

"Why, thank you, Miss Elaine ," he says politely. I think he's pleased, but I'm not sure.

We ride into the dark night in silence for a while. The bright spot that is California is slowly getting bigger.

"Sea-Tac tower to Charlie Tango. Flight plan to Francisco  in place. Please proceed. And standby. Over."

"This is Charlie Tango, understood Sea-Tac. Standing by, over and out."

"You obviously enjoy this," I murmur.

"What?" He glances at me. He looks quizzical in the half-light of the instruments.

"Flying," I reply.

"It requires control and concentration... how could I not love it? Though, my favorite is soaring."

"Soaring?"

"Yes. Gliding to the layperson. Gliders and helicopters - I fly them both."

"Oh." Expensive hobbies. I remember him telling me during the highschool but I didn't believe him.

I like reading and occasionally going to the movies. I am out of my depth here.

"Charlie Tango come in please, over." The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupts my reverie. Jace answers, sounding in control and confident.

San Francisco is getting closer. We are on the very outskirts now. Wow! It looks absolutely stunning. San Francisco at night, from the sky...

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Jace murmurs.

I nod enthusiastically. It looks otherworldly - unreal - and I feel like I'm on a giant film set, Kelvin's favorite film maybe, 'Skyscraper .' The memory of kelvin's attempted kiss haunts me. I'm beginning to feel a bit cruel not calling him back. He can wait until tomorrow... surely.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Jace mutters, and suddenly my blood is pounding in my ears as my heartbeat accelerates and adrenaline spikes through my system. He starts talking to air traffic control again, but I am no longer listening. Oh my... I think I'm going to faint. My fate is in his hands.

We are now flying amongst the buildings, and up ahead I can see a tall skyscraper with a helipad on top. The word Francisco is painted in white on top of the building. It's getting nearer and nearer, bigger and bigger... like my anxiety. God, I hope I don't let him down. He'll find me lacking in some way. I wish I'd listened to Izzy and borrowed one of her dresses, but I like my blue jeans, and I'm wearing a soft mint black shirt and Izzy's black jacket. I look smart enough. I grip the edge of my seat tighter and tighter. I can do this. I can do this. I chant this mantra as the skyscraper looms below us.

The Airplane slows and hovers, and Jace sets it down on the helipad on top of the building. My heart is in my mouth. I can't decide if it's from nervous anticipation, relief that we've arrived alive, or fear that I will fail in some way. He switches the ignition off and the rotor blades slow and quiet until all I hear is the sound of my own erratic breathing. Jace takes his headphones off, and reaches across and pulls mine off too.

"We're here," he says softly.

His look is so intense, half in shadow and half in the bright white light from the landing lights. Dark knight and white knight, it's a fitting metaphor for Jace. He looks strained. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are tight. He unfastens his seatbelt and reaches over to unbuckle mine. His face is inches from mine.

"Come," he shouts above the noise of the wind. He drags me over to an elevator shaft and, after tapping a number into a keypad, the doors open. It's warm inside and all mirrored glass. I can see Jace to infinity everywhere I look, and the wonderful thing is, he's holding me to infinity too. Jace taps another code into the keypad, then the doors close and the elevator descends.

Moments later, we're in an all-white foyer. In the middle is a round, dark wood table, and on it is an unbelievably huge bunch of white flowers. On the walls there are paintings, everywhere. He opens two double doors, and the white theme continues through the wide corridor and directly opposite where a palatial room opens up. It's the main living area, double height. Huge is too small a word for it. The far wall is glass and leads on to a balcony that overlooks San Francisco .

To the right is an imposing 'U' shaped sofa that could sit ten adults comfortably. It faces a state-of-the-art stainless steel - or maybe platinum for all I know - modern fireplace. The fire is lit and flaming gently. On the left beside us, by the entryway, is the kitchen area. All white with dark wood worktops and a large breakfast bar which seats six.

Near the kitchen area, in front of the glass wall, is a dining table surrounded by sixteen chairs. And tucked in the corner is a full size, Oh yes...

There is art of all shapes and sizes on all the walls. In fact, this apartment looks more like a gallery than a place to live.

"Can I take your jacket?" Jace asks. I shake my head. I'm still cold from the wind on the Airplane.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks. I blink at him. After last night! Is he trying to be funny? For one second, I think about asking for a vodka - but I don't have the nerve.

"I'm going to have a glass of red wine, would you like to join me?"

"Yes, please," I murmur.

I am standing in this enormous room feeling out of place. I walk over to the glass wall, and I realize that the lower half of the wall opens concertina-style on to the balcony. San Francisco is lit up and lively in the background. I walk back to the kitchen area - it takes a few seconds, it's so far from the glass wall - and Jace is opening a bottle of wine. He's removed his jacket.

"Baron okay with you?"

"I know nothing about wine, Jace . I'm sure it will be fine." My voice is soft and hesitant. My heart is thumping. I want to run. This is seriously rich. Seriously over-the-top Bill Gates style wealthy. What am I doing here? You know very well what you're doing here - my subconscious sneers at me. Yes, I want to be in Jace Alicanté bed.

"Here." He hands me a glass of wine. Even the glasses are rich... heavy, contemporary, crystal. I take a sip, and the wine is light, crisp, and delicious.

"You're very quiet, and you're not even blushing. In fact - I think this is the palest I've ever seen you, Sarah," he murmurs. "Are you hungry?"

I shake my head. Not for food.

Common Sarah Megan Elaine, can you just get your mind over with from Jace bedroom?

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