"Good girl." Adam smiled, leaning casually back in his seat. Mollified she finally stopped fighting him when he heard her mumbled accession on the other end of the line. Although he would have preferred it to be a little sprightlier, he would take a victory where he could get it.

He wasn't expecting to have such a battle over offering her a simple ride to work, but, then again, when it came to her, he should have anticipated no less than a clash of wills. So far, there hadn't been a time when she hadn't been quarrelsome when it came to his wishes. Though he found it endearing, it didn't make it any less maddening.

"Sir? We are about to take off now." One of the flight assistants looked expectantly at him and his cell phone, giving him a simpering smile.

Holding the phone against his shoulder to block the speaker, Adam held back the urge to reprimand...he glanced at her name tag...Jeanette. Who the fuck was Jeanette? He frowned for a moment. Oh shit, she was the new fill in for one of his normal flight crew.

He held up a finger. "In just a moment, please."

"But sir, we are..."

Exasperation won out over his need to be pleasant. "Unless someone has replaced the name Steele Industries on the side of this aircraft, Jeanette, this is my plane. We will take off when I say so." His tone took on his CEO persona, commanding and authoritative.

"Y...yes, sir." Blushing furiously, she stumbled in her haste to retreat from his chilly warning.

"I'll be glad when Anna gets back from maternity leave," Jonathan muttered from his lounged position next to him. "She spilled a perfectly good martini in my lap two weeks ago." He nodded at the quickly retreating stewardess.

"You were in charge of hiring Anna's replacement. You have no one to blame, but yourself." Adam reminded him.

He shrugged. "She was cute."

"Until you had to fish olives out of your crotch."

"I should have ordered her on her knees to remove them orally," he chuckled, easing back his recliner and closing his eyes.

"I'm surprised you didn't," Adam said drily.

"We were over Louisiana at the time. Sodomy is still illegal there, but oddly enough, I could have banged the shit out of her if she was deceased." He rolled his head towards his brother, giving him a wide grin.

Adam sighed and shook his head, picking his phone up off his shoulder. "I will call you back on your new phone. I expect you to answer it, Abigail." Pressing the dismiss button, he decided to give her a few moments to retrieve her cell from Erich and checked his e-mail.

"The girl still giving you a rough time?" Jonathan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"And then some," Adam grumbled, confirming his dinner plans tonight for himself and his brother with Marissa.

"I don't understand you, man. You can have any number of well-bred not to mention well to do women, eating out of the palm of your hand and you waste your time with a little waitress from Brooklyn who won't give you the fucking time of day." Jonathan turned away, closing his eyes. "I mean she's cute and everything, but shit...why bother?"

"Because I believe she's worth it," Adam said quietly to himself, picking his phone up and pressing her number. Now if he could only figure out why she was fighting the chemistry flowing between them, things would go a lot smoother.

"Hello?" Her irritation was clear in her voice and the sound of it traveled straight to his cock.

Adam felt his lips quirk into a grin. "Good girl," he said, again.

"I'm not a dog, Mr. Steele. You can stop patting me on the head," she snapped.

So, they were back to Mr. Steele again. He couldn't help but chuckle at her obstinacy. "If I was there beside you, Abigail, I would be doing far more than patting you on the head." He held the phone close, his voice deep.

"Don't say things like that," she breathed into the phone.

"Why not? It's the truth. This is going to happen, Abigail. You might as well stop fighting it and accept the inevitable.

"You seem pretty damn sure of yourself, Mr. Steele." She bristled.

"I always am, Abigail."

She laughed bitterly. "Must be nice being as confident as you."

"It has its advantages," he admitted. "I can show you how self-assured I am when it comes to my attraction to you, if you allow me."

"Why me? Why don't you go find a new Bitch Barbie to play with? Or...I don't know...try Malibu Barbie if you're looking for something different."

Adam clamped his jaw shut. "Watch yourself, Abigail," he warned through clench teeth. "I am not looking for a play thing...I want you. I can't make it any clearer."

An exasperated sigh came through. "Why? Why me? You don't even know me!" He could hear her smack the seat in frustration. The memory it triggered made his flesh leap to attention.

"I got to know you the other night and I would like to get to know you even better."

"You spent one evening with me, not even that. It was a couple of hours and we shared some kisses. That's all! It didn't mean anything."

"Bullshit," he ground out. "You may not trust me, Abigail. But don't ever lie to me. I could have took you there on the counter and you wouldn't have fought me. You want me as much as I want you. Make no qualms about it, I will have you," he said tersely, waving the fucking stewardess away angrily. They would sit on the damn tarmac all day if that's what it took to make her understand the depth of his conviction when it came to her.

She gulped. "You really don't take no for an answer, do you?"

"Good girl, you're learning."

"Say that again and I'm tossing this phone out to play in traffic," she growled.

"I don't know...I find the phrase rather enduring." Adam chuckled.

"If you're a Cocker Spaniel, maybe."

"Fair point. I will have to come up with a new way of showing my appreciation when you please me," he rumbled.

She sighed. "You don't play fair, Mr. Steele," she croaked. "I...I have to go."

"I never said I did. And this conversation is not over, Abigail," he warned.

"Yes, it is. I have to get to work."

The return of her snarky tone made his lips twitch. "You can only run away for so long, baby. I will catch you."

"I'm not running."

"Liar."

"Ask Erich...he's been an upstanding source of information for you this far," she said sarcastically, clearly annoyed.

Adam laughed softly. "Alright, I will let you go. But Abigail, Erich will be driving you to and from work until I return and I don't want any more arguments with you about it. Is that clear?" he told her in a curt tone. This he would not acquiesce on.

A very unlady-like snort came through from the other end of the line. "Yes, sir. I'd salute you, but you wouldn't be able to see it. Can I go to work now, Mr. Steele or do I need to put Mike on and have him explain cell phone employee policy to you?"

"Oh, Abigail. I can think of many things I would like to do with that sassy mouth of yours right now," Adam drawled. Another gasp was her only response and he could have sworn he felt it against his ear. "And Abigail?"

"Yes?" she whispered.

"The only person you give that phone back to in the future, will be me." Not waiting for a response, he hit end.

"You'd have made a great Dom," Jonathan said matter-of-factly, not bothering to look at him.

"I will leave the black patent leather bodysuit and whips to you," he scoffed, waving the anxious Jeanette over who continued to hover at the front of the plane.

"You don't know what you're missing."

Adam gave him a "fuck off" glare while he answered his ringing cell. "Steele."

"Ms. Lane has been safely delivered to work, sir," Erich informed him.

"And her phone?"

Erich laughed softy. "In her procession when she vacated the vehicle. Though, I have to say sir, whatever you said pissed her off a great deal. I'm lucky the door is still attached to the car."

A few hours later with Jonathan snoring lightly beside him, Adam stared moodily out into the darkening sky. His proposal, lap top and scotch...long forgotten. This trip to Cincinnati was nothing more than a preliminary fact finding mission anyway. He had no interest in what they were peddling.

He sighed. Lately, he didn't have much enthusiasm whatsoever. Well, that wasn't completely truthful. He possessed and exuberant amount of fascination when it came to the pursuit of Ms. Lane. Much of his time was spent thinking about her and she remained as much a mystery now as she had when they first met, but it didn't stop him from wanting her with every fiber of his being.

She was a siren, calling to him constantly in his mind. The moment his lips touched hers and her tongue tentatively touched his, he knew he was lost. Her tasted haunted him day and night. One sip from her lips and he was hopelessly addicted. She had tasted as good as he had imagined. Mint, tea and sin. He couldn't wait until he could savor her again.

Christ. He yearned for her and yet she kept dancing out of his reach. Adam gazed down at his hands which were clenched tightly together and he forced them open, relaxing them on the armrest. When was the last time he felt so out of control? He shook his head, at a loss to remember. It definitely wouldn't have been over a woman. Of that, he was certain. Snorting quietly, he reached for his scotch.

Silly woman. If any other female had behaved the way Abigail had this afternoon, he would have put an end to the relationship. Quickly. But, then again, most females never turned down one of his gifts. They greedily snapped them up and demanded more and more. The fact she had tossed it aside, told him she would not be impressed with his typical acts of wooing a woman. Pity, there is so much he wished to give her. He took a sip of his scotch, letting the liquor burn its way down his throat.

Reaching for his phone, he turned it on and flipped to his favorite picture of her sleeping in his bed. The total captivation she possessed over him was an anomaly. She amazed and intrigued him. He stroked his thumb over the image. Her responses to his kisses had been as much surprising as they had been alluring. Innocent...open and without motive. It was just simple wanting...on both their parts.

Adam moved uncomfortably in his seat. His traitorous body stiffened and he groaned. While the attraction was exciting, at times, it was as inconvenient as hell. He was responsible for billions of dollars, had thousands of employees in his control and ran a multi-faceted corporation single handedly. Certainly, you would think he would be able to control his own damn cock. He tried convincing himself she was nothing more than an ordinary woman, not unlike the many others he had slept with, but his body would not acquisition his lie.

"Have you figured out why she's running yet?"

Adam jerked around at the sound of Jonathan's voice. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Who could sleep with you moaning and groaning like a love sick rhino?" he complained, sitting up and pushing the call service button.

"How would you know what that sounds like?" Adam quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I watched National Geographic last night."

Jeanette came bustling over. Two more buttons of her top seemed to have opened revealing her cleavage and the top of her breasts. "What can I get you Mr. Steele?" she asked, staring at Adam and licking her freshly, oil slicked, coral lips.

"Over hear dear," Jonathan waved, getting her attention. "A cappuccino, please. Do you want anything Adam?"

"I'm good." Adam turned back towards the window, avoiding Jeanette's dark, sappy stare.

She'd been sending him flirty glances throughout the whole flight. He had been the target of many beautiful and ambitious female employees over the years. Some more brazen in their attempts than others. He caught Jeanette's reflection in the small window. There was no doubt in his mind, if he asked her to strip bare and sit in his lap, the girl would do it without hesitation. The thought sickened him.

"Just the cappuccino then. Thank you." Jonathan gave her a grin, sending her on her way as he watched the extra swish of her hips she added as she walked up the aisle.

"Don't even think about it," Adam growled.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "She would be imagining it was you the whole time, anyway."

"Like that has ever stopped you."

"Man, you are one miserable son of a bitch today." He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "You need to get laid."

Adam scoffed. "Is that your answer to everything? Sex?"

Jonathan's blue eyes popped wide. "Yes. And...fuck yes. It used to be the answer to yours too."

Adam turned back to the window to hide his wince. It was true. A steady stream of sex kept him leveled out, but it was all an unemotional affair. In, out and gone with a casual "I'll call you" said over his shoulder as he was leaving. He was always careful to avoid women who were potential clingers, picking only the ones who were impressed with his fancy suits, cars and of course, money. Those women were more interested in what he could do for them, than having a relationship and suited his needs. He was merely a trophy fuck to them. And for him, it was about as intimate as jury duty.

But Abigail...she was different. He wanted it to be different. He wanted to be different for her.

"Thank you, Jeanette," Jonathan said as the smell of dark, rich coffee wafted over to Adam. He kept his eyes firmly focused out the window to avoid another one of her doleful looks.

"Adam." Jonathan called his attention.

Lifting his eyes away from the window, he turned to face him.

"Did you come to the conclusion of why she is running?" he asked over the brim of the coffee cup.

"No," he answered sharply, not sure he was willing to have this conversation with his brother.

Jonathan smiled softly. "You know she is, right?" At Adam's skeptical glare, he continued. "All the signs are pointing in that direction. Her refusal to tell you her real name...which she would have continued on with the ruse if the roommate hadn't blown her cover. The changing of her appearance. Fuck, how many times do you need a gun pointed at your head to wake up and smell the coffee?"

"You are making me regret telling you that," Adam grumbled, taking a hard shot of his scotch.

"Sorry brother, but it's fucking funny."

"I didn't find it at all humorous at the time."

Jonathan kicked his head back and laughed. "Oh, how I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to see Mrs. Doubtfire get the drop on you."

"Shut the fuck up." Adam's voice was cold and hard.

Sucking in a breath, Jonathan swallowed back the rest of his chortles with a splutter. "Dude, chill out. I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."

"Do you see me laughing?"

"You should be." Jonathan winked at him.

Adam ran his hand across his jaw in agitation. "Can we get to the part of this discussion where you are actually helpful?" he snapped.

There was a long drawn out silence as his brother appraised him. Setting down his cup, Jonathan leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle. "Let's look at this like any other company takeover. We never make a move without knowing the facts." He shrugged his shoulders. "So, let's get the particulars. Run a background check on her."

The revulsion of invading her privacy made Adam's stomach roll. How could he get her to trust him if he broke what little of it he possessed? He swallowed hard. He knew there would be no turning back if he agreed. Running a hand through his hair, he fought with his natural instinct to conquer and to hell with the consequences over his need to protect what little advancement he had made in breaking down her walls.

He wanted to know everything about her. From the smallest of details to the ones which plagued him and kept her out of his reach. He was accustomed to talking what he wanted, when he wanted it, but this time...what he wanted was poles apart from his usual desires. He wanted Abigail to give and to do so willingly. But he doubted she ever would. Whatever demons where chasing her, kept her anchored to her fear. Wouldn't it be acting in her best interest if he stepped in and slayed the demons from her past. Isn't that what the romance hero in her book would do?

He had the proverbial white angle on one shoulder beseeching him not to break her confidence and the devil on the other...coaxing him to do what he always did...win.

"Do it," he muttered. Heaven help me...the devil made me do it, he thought bitterly, turning away from Jonathan's victorious smirk.

********

Fuck. He had followed the stupid driver for fucking hours and for what? To watch him play delivery boy for that bastard Steele. He reached over, grabbing the wrinkled, printed itinerary. Right about now the fucker was sitting pretty in his private jet, probably stuffing his face with prime rib and sucking back fancy scotch, while he sat here freezing his ass off waiting to see who the fuck lived at this apartment building.

Easing down in the driver seat, he shoved his hands under his armpits in an attempt to warm them as he watched Adam's driver disappear into the building with a package. He'd turn the fucking car on and crank on the heat, but the bitch spewed smoke out its tailpipe like a goddamn steam engine. He didn't want to chance drawing attention to himself, so he sat and froze his fucking ass off.

After what seemed like hours, the driver came back down and entered the Bentley Mulsanne. Pretentious asshole, he thought. Sitting up, he reached for the keys. About time they left this shithole. What a monumental waste of time. The only people he saw coming in and out had been welfare cases, old fucks and a couple of faggots.

It was the crossing dressing freak that had caught his attention the last time and he had been right to be interested. When he followed him, the asshole lead him straight to that fucking dump of a club where Trixie worked. He'd been hopeful the drag queen would lead him to her, but it had turned out to be just another fucking dead end. One of many.

Glancing out his side mirror, he frowned when he saw the Mulsanne still sitting purring by the curb. What the fuck? He hunkered down again, pissed he would have to wait to warm up. He was just contemplating leaving anyway, when bright red hair caught his attention.

Leaning forward, he squinted his eyes at the mirror. This wasn't the same fucking idiot he had followed last time. Whoever it was, was smaller in stature. He watched as they had some kind of disagreement with the driver. Rolling down the window, slowly, he strained his ears to hear, but he was too far away. Dammit! He punched the steering wheel.

A few moments later, he watched the redhead enter the car and it pull away from the curb. Twisting the ignition, he fired up the POS and pulled out a few car lengths behind. Instinct told him where they were going and he smiled for the first time in fucking days.