Free At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? by Rachel Bailey

prickled with unwanted heat. He was so close. His mouth was so close. She shut her eyes for a long moment against his power. Then she took a deliberate step back and he released her hand.
    At the door she turned. “I appreciate the option. But we both know it will never happen.”
    Then she walked on unsteady legs back to her own office to focus on something besides her boss and the trip they were taking alone in only a few days.

Five
    M acy swallowed away the tightness in her throat, clenched her fingers around her briefcase strap and stepped onto the chartered jet. Her fear of flying meant each plane trip was a leap of faith, but she would never give in and let anxiety rule her life. She was stronger than her fear.
    Seeing Ryder up ahead, already settled into his spacious seat, she made her legs move and ignored the turmoil in her belly.
    â€œGood morning, Macy,” his deep voice rumbled.
    â€œGood morning,” she said through stiff lips.
    His eyes changed, suddenly alert and focused. Had he guessed? The last person she wanted to know about her phobia was her boss. Between him being her employer, and her body’s uncontrollable reaction to his, she already felt too vulnerable around him. Handing him knowledge of her weakness would be a step too far.
    She stopped at a seat away from his and put her bag down to take off her coat. But Ryder indicated the seat beside him.
    â€œSit with me. You can brief me on what we’ll see in Sydney.”
    Macy hesitated but covered her pause by folding her bulky jacket. If she sat beside him, she might be able to conceal her fear of flying for most of the trip, but the landing would be harder to bluff. She hated landings.
    â€œI’ve already briefed you on the trip and I can’t explain much more until we arrive in the shop space. Surely you’d like the time to catch up on reports from your other holdings?” She’d seen Bernice pack a pile of them in his briefcase.
    Ryder stretched out in his seat, his long legs crossing at the ankles. “Why would I want to read reports about companies Bramson Holdings owns, when I can speak face-to-face about this one?”
    Macy held back a sigh as she collected her bag and coat and moved across to the recliner seat beside him. She’d be fine. She’d covered her anxiety from the world for years, and no one had ever guessed. Why would Ryder be any different?
    She settled in, buckling her seat belt firmly, then glanced across at her boss.
    He watched her with his heavy-lidded gaze. “Tell me about your time in Melbourne.”
    His voice, so deep and resonant, seemed to travel through her body. She’d been trying not to let it affect her in the past week—an unrealistic goal at the best of times—but now he was so near, it felt as if his voice was caressing her skin, filling her senses, stirring her blood.
    In an attempt to stem the tide, she blinked slowly. “There’s nothing to tell.”
    He turned in his seat, squaring his shoulders to her, a teasing glint in his eye. “I can’t believe there’s nothing. You must have something you can tell me.”
    His body was close, so close, making her think of the night they kissed, and it made her a little light-headed. She could almost feel his hard chest under her palms again, his warm breath on her cheek.
    She swallowed. “There is nothing about my life you would find interesting.”
    â€œI beg to differ.” He folded his arms, waiting.
    Her pulse picked up speed. How would he react if she leaned over and kissed him now? He hadn’t tried to kiss her since the night in her building, but he’d made the offer in his office that he’d be ready and waiting if she changed her mind. And every so often she’d caught him looking at her. Perhaps he might return the kiss and she could sink into the heaven she’d found in his embrace….
    He still sat with his arms crossed over his broad