Because she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Heck, she’d gotten what she’d come there for while they were still in the bar. How she’d allowed herself to end up in his bed was something she still wasn’t sure about.
The only thing she was certain of, was that it was beyond time for her to leave. Best she do that before he woke up and tried to stop her. Quietly, stealthily, she slipped from the massive bed and the air in the room felt cool against her bare skin.
Moonlight lay across the silk duvet-covered mattress, spotlighting Jackson’s broad, tanned, na**d back in a silvery glow. He shifted in his sleep, and the duvet slid down his skin, revealing a paler swatch of flesh just below his waist. Casey took a breath and forced herself to look away. She didn’t need to be tempted to stay. This was not part of her plan. She’d already gone too far. Allowed her hormones and her need to sweep away rational thought.
Tiptoeing across the moonlit bedroom like a na**d burglar, she hurried into the living room of the luxurious suite and in the dim light, wasted several minutes trying to spot her clothes. But she didn’t dare turn on a light. She didn’t want to chance waking him up. Didn’t want to risk him tempting her back into his arms. Into his bed.
“You aresuch an idiot,” she whispered, hardly able to believe she’d let herself get into such a situation. She was usually so much more careful. Restrained, even.
When she spotted her discarded dress, Casey grabbed it up, hitched herself into it and clumsily worked the back zipper. Shouldn’t these things be on the side? Finally, she was at least dressed—minus the panties that seemed to have disappeared. She picked up her heels and searched for her clutch bag. Finding it on the floor, half under the couch where she and Jackson had first come together. Swallowing hard, she avoided looking at the couch, snatched her purse and then headed for the front door.
She turned the knob carefully, opened the door and let the hallway light fall into the room in a narrow, golden slice. Before she stepped through the doorway though, Casey turned for one last look. She’d never been in a hotel room this elegant. She’d never been with a man like Jackson. In fact, this room, this man, were so far removed from her real life, that she felt like Cinderella at the end of the ball. The magic was over. The spell was ended.
She stepped into the hall, closed the door behind her and nearly ran to the elevator.
Time to get back to the real world.
Two
“Her name is Casey. She’s about five foot five, has blond hair and blue eyes.”
“Well,” his assistant Anna Coric mused, “at least that narrows it down. Blue eyes, you say?”
“Funny.” But Jackson wasn’t laughing. He’d awakened to find himself alone and if the scent of lavender hadn’t still been clinging to his skin, if he hadn’t found a pair of white lace panties on the living room floor, he might have convinced himself that the hours with his mystery woman had never happened.
Why the hell would she leave without a word?
Anna, a middle-aged mother of four, worked for Jackson at the King family airfield. She kept ahead of the paperwork and made sure Jackson and the pilots who worked for him were always on top of their schedules. If the military had any sense at all, Jackson had often thought, they’d have hired mothers to be generals. Anna kept his work life running like a fine-tuned engine.
Too bad she couldn’t do the same for his personal life.
He thought of something, snapped his fingers and said, “Wait. She said her full name was Cassiopeia. That should help you find her.”
Anna glanced at him from the cabinet where she was deftly filing last month’s flight plans, gas usage records and pilot hours. She paused in her work, turned amused brown eyes on him and said, “As much as it pleases me to know you think I’m a miracle worker, I’ll need more than her first name and the color of her eyes to find her.”
“Right.”
“Besides,” she said thoughtfully, “don’t you have enough women in your life already?”
He chose to misunderstand her meaning and flashed her a smile. “You’re right, Anna my love. You’re more than enough woman for me.”
She laughed, as he’d known she would. “Oh, you’re smooth, Jackson. I give you that.”
Smooth enough to have managed to change the subject before Anna could start reminding him of things he’d rather not think about at the moment.
Jackson left Anna to her work and walked into his private office. Here on the airstrip, there was a tower, of course, and a main building with a room for their wealthy passengers to wait for their planes in comfort. The boarding room was lavishly appointed with overstuffed sofas and chairs, reading material, plasma TV, plus a fully staffed bar and snack area. Above that main room, were the offices. One for Jackson, one for Anna and one room that was mainly storage.
Jackson’s office, like Anna’s, overlooked the airfield. The walls were a tinted glass that let in light but kept the glare down to a minimum. Also, Jackson had never liked being cooped up, and having walls of glass made him feel less like he was spending time in a box when he absolutelyhad to be in the office.
Normally, he preferred spending his time on the luxury jet fleet he owned and operated. Sure, he had a staff of pilots working for him, but he enjoyed the footloose lifestyle that running his own business provided. And the chance to fly superseded everything else in his mind. Practically took an act of Congress to get him to do paperwork, but he could fly rings around most other pilots and was happiest in the air.
Today though, he walked to his desk, sat down and deliberately ignored the view. “Casey. Caseywhat? And why the hell didn’t you get her last name?”
Disgusted, he sat back in his leather desk chair and stared at the phone. This shouldn’t be bothering him. Not like he wasn’t used to one-night stands. But damn it, in the usual scheme of thingshe was the one who did the slipping away. He wasn’t used to having a woman slink off in the middle of the night. He wasn’t used to being the one left wondering what the hell had happened.
He had to say, he didn’t care for it.
When the phone rang, he grabbed it, more to silence the damn noise than because he was in the mood for talking. “What is it?”
“You’re damn cheerful this morning.”
Jackson frowned at his brother’s voice. “Travis. What’s going on?”
“Just checking to make sure we’re still on for dinner this weekend. Julie’s got her mom lined up as a babysitter.”