Free His Flight Plan by Yvette Hines Page B

office instead of the conference room as they had the first time they met almost six months ago now.
    Mr. Reese took them and flipped through the pages, making sure everything was in order.
    Tasha had gone through it page by page with him and his brother, making sure they initialed at the bottom of each page and had signed their legal signatures on the last. Mr. Branson’s contract was longer and more complex than the one they’d signed when they claimed ownership of the airport.
    “Everything is taken care of.” Mr. Reese rose from his seat on the couch beside Mr. Branson. “I’ll have Mr. Branson’s office manager, DrewAnn, make you all copies of it.” He headed to the office door.
    “Three copies, please.” Tasha called out to Mr. Reese.
    The other lawyer nodded and walked out.
    “I know you’re a busy man, so we will not take up anymore of your time.” Vance rose from his chair, one of three that had been positioned across the couch from Mr. Branson and his lawyer.
    “I will say that I’m looking forward to continuing my business connection with Harrisburg Airport.” Mr. Branson offered them a smile as he stood up.
    “We are thankful that you agreed to have your company provide the fuel supply.” Drake offered his hand to the older gentleman.
    Grasping his hand, Mr. Branson pumped it. “Once I met you and your brother a few months back, it was an easy decision for me. I admire men who have the courage and know how to strike out on their own. It’s how I started.”
    “Isn’t your father Marcus Branson of Branson International Shipping Corp?” Vance asked as he shook hands with the business mogul.
    Mr. Branson chuckled. “A man who does his homework. Yes, he is. However, he didn’t believe in giving a leg up to his children. So, my four sisters and I had to start from scratch in building our own empires.”
    “I think I would’ve liked your father,” Drake commented. It amazed him how his impression of the rich and how they raised their children was being altered from what he saw in the media that generally only featured the spoiled socialite children.
    “Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to meet him one day, since the old coot is still around.” Mr. Branson patted Drake on the shoulder blade as he escorted them toward the door.
    “You have a lovely family.” Tasha stood beside the long credenza against the wall adjacent to the door and admired an eight-by-ten, silver-framed photo.
    “Thank you. That was taken for my sixtieth birthday. Once your children hit a certain age the pictures of them become few and far between.” Mr. Branson gazed fondly at the portrait.
    Drake glanced around Tasha toward the photo only out of politeness. He froze as his lungs seized up on him. All four members of the family were attractive and well-styled as they all showcased wide smiles for the camera. However, there was only one face that drew every ounce of his attention—Kiera’s. Right there in glossy color was the woman who’s bed he’d rolled out of at six o’clock that morning.
    Hell, it was the woman he was making scream at five thirty, because he couldn’t leave her without slipping deep inside of her one more time. His dick was still sore from all the sex they’d had last night. And here he was standing beside her father. The business mogul responsible for providing fuel to his and Vance’s airport business. Fuck .
    Kiera had rocked his world, but more importantly, he’d returned back to his hotel to shower and dress for the nine a.m. meeting with the knowledge that she opened up his heart and burrowed her way inside. This couldn’t be happening.
    “His daughter.”
    “Drake?”
    “What did you say, Drake?”
    Tasha and Vance both spoke at the same time, bringing his attention back around to the others in the room and the gravity of the situation he was in.
    Drake frowned. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken the words out loud. “Hm.” He cleared his throat attempting to come up with