CHAPTER THREE

INTHESMALL crew room I scoop up my small backpack, shove my apron into it and hurry down the corridor. I can't get out of here quick enough. I've made a massive fool of myself trying to flirt with that guy. He's more than a guest of the primary, he's her godson—practically family. Of course he wasn't a stripper, not in a suit that beautifully made and fitted and from fabric that soft and flattering. Why did I leap to such an inappropriate conclusion?

Because he was half naked and is so stunningly sculpted it was the only possibility to hit me. Yes, I objectified the guy. And no, I don't usually do that. I've avoided guys my whole life. That's what happens when your ‘charming' father's a serial cheater and your co-dependent mother's a serial sucker—falling for the same type over and over. That kind of example puts a girl off even trying.

But Dain Anzelotti could have corrected me sooner, instead he let me make a bigger and bigger fool of myself until at last he revealed his innate arrogance. He flipped from smoothly amused to steely and silent—shooting me down without uttering a word. I was incinerated on the spot. But he kissed me—the patronising jerk only wanted to hook me in order to feed his endless ego. As if all his supposed wealth wasn't enough to make him feel special? Once I was on the line he couldn't cut me quick enough. I need to get out of here before I stomp back to give the entitled jerk a piece of my mind.

The gondola engineer is engrossed in some sports game onscreen and barely notices me waiting for the small passenger cabin that's coming round on the track. The cabins aren't huge and it's a relief to have it to myself. I've been customer servicing for hours and this is only a respite before I get to the bar down in town and carry on fulfilling people's orders. Still hot and flustered, I toss my backpack onto the seat with too much force. It slips straight off and I groan in frustration as my things scatter everywhere. I slump on the seat. There's no rush to collect everything, I have over twenty minutes to pull it together.

I hear rapid footsteps and hope whoever it is will be polite enough to wait for the next cabin. But a big hand stops my door from sliding shut and the suspension car wobbles as he steps inside. There's a bumping sensation as the cabin moves over the pulley system. I don't love the gondola—being suspended high above the jagged edge of a mountain freaks me out a little. But right now I'm more freaked out about the view inside the cabin.

I stare at him in consternation—the entertainment who wasn't. The self-proclaimed billionaire property magnate. He takes the space on the seat beside me, the doors bang shut and then there's silence as he stares at my stuff scattered all over the floor.

‘What happened?' he eventually asks. ‘Did you have a tantrum?'

Stunned, I do nothing as he slides onto his knees in the small space in front of me. He retrieves the items one by one—my comb and a spare hair tie, headphones that I can't use now to avoid this conversation, coins, my favourite tinted lip balm and some pain relief. He passes each item for me to stuff back into my bag and meets my gaze every time.

It's immensely irritating that he's so handsome. That my body is literally melting. What's with his mixed messages?

‘Thanks,' I mumble, embarrassed and confused.

The heated intimacy in his eyes bamboozles me. As much as I want to, I can't look away from him.

‘Why are you skipping out early?' Having gathered all my gear, he gets up from the floor and sits beside me. ‘Have you got a date?'

I feel myself flushing. ‘Another job to get to.'

‘You often double shift?'

Determined not to let him get to me more, I lift my chin. ‘Triple.'

He doesn't take his gaze off me. ‘You need the money.'

‘Most of us mere mortals do.'

He nods as if he understands. But he can't possibly. What does he know of struggling daily for survival? Of responsibility? I've been responsible, not just for myself, but for my little sister, Ava, since I was eleven and she was seven. After Dad skipped out and Mum went down a spiral of bad choice after bad choice, I needed to ensure Ava got through school—I had to because she's gifted. Seriously super smart, but having to shift schools so many times when we were kids impacted her despite her insane IQ and the intense extra study she did. So I worked and when Mum wanted to make one move too many I said no. I took on Ava myself age seventeen and I was super happy to. I wanted her to have the stability she needed—that we'd never had. I still support her now, six years later. And once she's finished her studies, I'll focus on my own future.

‘I should have told you I wasn't the entertainment,' he says after a long silence. ‘But I was taken by surprise and the temptation to tease you was irresistible.'

‘It was my fault for jumping to conclusions,' I say stiffly.

‘It seems like you'd prefer I was a booty dancer to a billionaire.' His smile briefly quirks. ‘Don't you like me now you know I'm basically made of money?' He actually shoots me kicked-puppy eyes. ‘It doesn't usually work that way.'

‘Doesn't it?' I murmur shortly, so easily provoked into outrage all over again. ‘What? Don't tell me you're some poor little rich boy now seeking my sympathy?'

The curve of his mouth deepens. ‘Right now I'll take anything I can.'

I shake my head. ‘You've got enough from me already.'

‘Oh, I disagree,' he counters softly.

I glare at him but at the same time I'm almost helplessly drawn to him. He's more good-looking than most. Honestly, he's more everything than most.

‘I'm glad you've finished work early. Now I'm allowed to talk to you,' he adds.

‘Allowed?' I echo. ‘As if you pay attention to the rules anyone else abides by?'

‘You really think you have me nailed, don't you?'

The most appalling flush swamps me. I'm so hot I can't even swallow. It's a replay of that moment in the storeroom when I stood too close to him and he held me against him and time stilled.

An ominous clunking sound breaks the searing spell between us and the cabin sways awkwardly. Startled, I glance out of the window. Usually the view is spectacular when the moon and stars cast a glow over the lake but tonight the celestial elements are obscured by clouds. That clunk is replaced by a sharp metallic screech.

I've no idea how long we've been in the cabin or how far we've descended but I know we have to be some distance from the bottom still. Meaning we're suspended above a rocky mountainside and if the cable breaks we'll smash down and likely won't live. Just then the sky lights up—yet illuminates nothing. The lightning just bounces back from the thick cloud. The storm has hit sooner than predicted.

‘I—'

The cabin light flickers before cutting out completely.

‘Um...' Dain pulls his phone from his pocket.

As he studies the screen I hear his smothered curse.

‘We've lost reception,' he says.

‘It doesn't seem like there's power in town,' I mutter, pointlessly peering out of the window.

I hear the wind whistling around us. How did I not hear it pick up so much during the descent? I've been too distracted by him. But this is a major problem. We're suspended in a tin can, high above a jagged mountain in a major weather event. My pulse skitters.

‘You feeling okay?' His query is soft.

I nod, then realise he can't see me but even in this darkness he's sensed my rising nerves. I don't want to think about how far we could fall. How we'd smash to smithereens. ‘Yeah,' I lie. ‘Are you?' I squeak.

‘I'm hanging in there.'

I smile weakly. ‘Tragic attempt at a pun.'

He turns his phone's torch on, sits it between us and smiles at me. It's a gorgeous smile and it humanises him and with him half hidden in the dark he feels more accessible.

‘I feel wobbly,' I say. ‘Like the ground has vanished beneath my feet.'

My joke is even more feeble but it's better to challenge my brain to come up with puns instead of staying fixated on his attractiveness. But my brain does that anyway. Relentlessly.

There's another sudden jolt and the cabin sways in a way it isn't supposed to. I draw a sharp breath. Dain's phone slides off the seat and lands on the floor, lighting the corner instead of us. He doesn't move to retrieve it. Instead he puts his hand on mine. I'm so unashamedly grateful I twist my fingers to grasp his and cover his wrist with my other hand. Just like that I'm clinging and I don't care.

‘It might take some time for them to get power back online,' I worry.

‘There isn't a generator?'

‘I don't know. I don't usually work up there. I was just helping out a friend.'

‘You enjoy your work?' he asks calmly.

‘I've been doing it a long time.'

‘Your latte art was pretty cool. I've seen some done before but your bird design for Simone was excellent.'

‘Thanks.'

‘You must have practised a lot.'

I know he's distracting me. I welcome it. I drag in a breath and make myself focus. ‘Yeah, but mostly I do it to put online. I have a social media channel for it.'

‘You have an influencer side hustle?'

I swear I hear an element of judgement in his tone. ‘I'm hardly at influencer status but my ASMR videos are really popular. And my how-to-do-it-at-home tutorials are increasingly getting clicks.'

‘And that's the dream—to be an Insta-recognisable influencer?'

Oh, there's definitely judgement there.

‘Actually, I'm going to have my own roastery one day. My own coffee label. And my channel is absolutely going to help with that.' I'm not trying to impress him. I'm just babbling. It's helping but not as much as his hand-holding is.

‘You want to take on the big multinationals?' he asks.

‘No, I just want a boutique label. I want to support coffee growers with ethical practices who provide a sustainable wage. There's room in the market for that and the world needs to change.'

‘You're an idealist.'

I shake my head. ‘A humanist.'

The light from the phone on the floor in the corner is just enough to let me see him, hopefully without him seeing how much I'm staring. He's the perfect distraction from the fear that I'm about to plummet hundreds of feet onto rocks. His eyes are stunning. A deep blue, they glitter with a vitality that makes me want to lean in to feel his energy. Okay, his muscles too. I want to test out the length and breadth of him for myself. It's the weirdest thing. I avoid men. But this isn't like anything else. This is like a lightning strike and, yes, I know that's a cliché, but it's the best my befuddled brain can come up with right now. I guess the storm outside is a prompt and all.

‘They should have shut down the gondola,' I murmur. ‘We'd be safer up at the top even without power.'

‘We'll be fine.' His hand tightens on mine. ‘We're more likely to be in a car accident.'

‘You know your facts.' Who's he trying to reassure? Me or himself?

‘Several.'

‘You're a one-per-center, though. You're already in a bunch of minority sections. Top of your class. Most wealthy.'

Most gorgeous.

‘And you think that makes me more likely to be killed in a freak gondola accident?' He sounds amused.

‘You're all kinds of special,' I mumble.

His hand tightens on mine. ‘Look at me,' he says softly. ‘We're going to be fine.'

‘You don't know that.' But I breathe out slowly. I am not going to lose it here. I never lose it. I stay calm even when a situation seems dire. ‘But there's nothing either of us can do in this moment to make it better.'

‘No?'

I pause, struck by a sudden frisson in the atmosphere between us.

‘Powerless is not a position I'm used to being in,' he says.

I can well believe it. And, even though I mightn't have the money he does, I do have my own drive. ‘Me neither.'

‘You were in charge of all the wait staff.' He nods. ‘You're usually in control?'

‘Of everything front of house.'

‘Yeah,' he mutters. ‘You were more than efficient. You control everything else too. Multiple jobs—even how the milk spills into a cup...'

I loathe feeling as though I have no control over my life. My whole childhood was hostage to my mother's whims. Ava and I had no choice about where we lived or for how long. Mum made us pack up and move on in an afternoon. I left places and people I loved without the chance to say goodbye or explain why. That's not how I live now and it's not how I'll ever make anyone live.

‘Two control freaks trapped in a stalled gondola in the middle of an electrical storm...what a nightmare.' I manage a smile.

He smiles back. ‘It's not so awful.'

I shoot him a sceptical look. ‘I can feel your pulse racing.'

‘It is,' he says. ‘But not because I'm scared.'

Mypulse races. Not because I'm scared either. ‘I guess there's nothing like a natural disaster as a great leveller. Your money isn't going to make any difference now.'

‘Have I lost what little lustre I had?' He's mock mournful.

‘You know I was never attracted to your billions, but your brawn could still be useful.'

‘Brawn?' He almost chokes on a laugh. ‘How so?'

Searing temptation takes hold of me and suddenly it doesn't matter that he froze me out the last time I tried flirting with him. This time he's intimately close—I can feel his pulse, see his smile, and it's intoxicating. ‘I think my chances of survival will be higher if you cushion my landing.'

‘What?' His jaw drops.

‘If you're wrapped around me I'll be protected.'

‘So I'll go splat and you'll be saved.' He smiles. ‘From this height?'

Amusement shimmers through us both.

‘I'm happy to increase my odds even if it's only by an infinitesimal amount,' I breathe.

He leans closer. ‘Are you asking me to hold you?'

I can't answer. His grip on my fingers tightens and while he cups my jaw with his other hand he leans closer still. I stop breathing.

And my stomach rumbles. Loudly. I stifle a moan. As if it weren't mortifying enough to be so gauche in here with him.

‘You're hungry,' he teases softly.

I'm thirsty too. Frankly I have all kinds of needs right now. ‘I'll survive.'

But my pulse skips. If this is the moment before my death then I don't want to go without having ever kissed a man. And a man is right here with me and he seems like he might—

‘Do you need distraction from that as well as the imminent disaster?' he asks.

‘What kind of distraction are you thinking of?'

‘Well, you did think I was the entertainment but I think a lap dance might make the car swing too much. I think we're going to have to take this gently and slowly.'

I stare at him warily, because when it comes down to it I can never trust anyone. ‘You froze me out with your silence in the restaurant.'

‘No. You stunned me into silence.' His expression softens. ‘I was trying to stay in control. I couldn't do this there.'

‘This?'

The brush of his lips is balmy, teasing. His tenderness takes me by surprise, as does the moment he takes to lean back and search my eyes. I realise he's seeking my consent.

I can hardly think. ‘This is...'

‘What I've wanted to do all night.' His gleaming gaze bores into me—intense and unwavering. ‘You're why my pulse is racing.'

I just topple right into his arms. He scoops me close and then his mouth is there again—on mine. And I melt.

It turns out that kissing is the best ever way to neutralise panic. The best way to stay in the moment, to not give a damn about anything else in life—not even imminent death. Kissing is the best ever thing full stop. We kiss and we kiss and we kiss.

I have no idea how long we've been stuck here and I no longer care because there's this and this is the beginning, the end, the everything.

He pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. So tight. So right. I actually quiver and his embrace tightens still more. I'm twisted sideways but I manage to free my arms to wind them around his broad shoulders and we just keep kissing. He's hot and his attention is lush and he carries me with him.

This is nothing but a moment in the middle of a storm. He'll be leaving the country shortly. I'll never see him again. So I'm not just here, I'm all in as a need I've long denied unleashes within me.

‘What was it you said?' He growls, picking up on my restless hunger. ‘She deserves a good night and I shouldn't make her wait any longer...?'

His hands sweep over me as he plunders my mouth. I shiver even though I'm hot. He palms my breasts then shapes my waist. I feel his tension, the ridge of his arousal beneath me. I moan as I realise he's as hot for me. I want it with him. I want it all. He slips his hand beneath my dress. The trail of his fingertips against my skin makes my moans earthier. I can't retain control of myself. My hips rock to a rhythm that's new to me yet is as old as time. He doesn't stop—he targets his attentions. Because he knows what he's doing. He knows how his touch sends me mad. Dissolving all thought, leaving only feeling. Need.

‘Sweetheart,' he mutters as he pushes my panties aside. ‘All this wet is for me.'

I gasp and groan at the same time—torn between extreme arousal and embarrassment. It's not a pretty noise.

But he gives further encouragement. ‘So sweet, I want to taste it.'

Oh.I melt even more because to my astonishment I want that too but there's no time. I'm not anywhere near naked nor is he but it doesn't matter because I start to shake.

‘Oh, darling...' His tongue slides past my lips and into my mouth, invading my heat the way I know he wants to plunder that other part of me.

I ache with searing need. His hand moves more intimately against me and he slides a finger inside my virgin flesh. I gasp—his possession is such a relief but still isn't enough. I rock my hips. Riding him. He holds me firm while stroking me, gruffly purring encouragement.

‘I want...' I can't finish my sentence.

‘I know what you want.' He growls roughly. ‘Come on me, Talia.'

It's so intimate I could die. But he orders me into a raw response with coarse, lusty words that make me hotter, slicker, wilder until at last I convulse. I tear my lips from his to shriek through the unbearable ecstasy.

It's good. Oh, it's good.

I squeeze my fingers into his shoulders as I shudder, gasping for big breaths to recover something of myself. I've just come apart completely. I've never lost control like this with anyone. But in his hold, it's not just empowering, it's addictive. Only the totality of that insane satisfaction lasts mere seconds. With a moan I kiss him with complete abandon. Showing him what I can't verbalise—I want more.

He groans and his hand cups my sex possessively. ‘Talia...'

‘Yes.'Unfettered, I pant between kisses. ‘Yes, yes, yes.'

His whole body tightens beneath me. ‘You want—'

‘Yes!'But a sliver of sanity stirs and I lift my head. ‘But I can't get pregnant or—'

‘Your fellow control freak has a condom in his wallet.' His words are muffled against my neck as he suckles my skin. ‘Kids aren't on my agenda.'

He's unapologetic but his obviously vast experience isn't a turn-off. I know nothing. He knows everything. I could learn. I want to learn. Especially with him. Here's my chance. I'm not afraid of anything any more. For the first time in my life I'm fearless—such is the power of that orgasm and the madness in this moment.

‘Not mine either. Not yet for me.' I glance at him. ‘Not ever for you, right?'

‘Right.' He chuckles lightly. ‘So let me get it.'

He wriggles to dig out his wallet. I just get more aroused all over again.

‘Look at us. Capable people. In control,' he mutters.

‘So in control.' I'm sliding towards oblivion again—so fast.

‘Rational right to the end,' he insists with mock seriousness as he teases me even more.

‘Stop congratulating yourself on your genius and put it on.'

‘Right. Ms Impatience.'

‘Of course I'm impatient.' I lean against him. ‘We're hanging by a thread and who knows how long we have...?'

He laughs but it morphs into a groan. ‘Quite.'

He lifts me to my feet, moving me only slightly away from him, and delves beneath my hemline again to slide my panties down and off. He doesn't bother taking off my dress. There isn't time. He balances me with one hand while hurriedly unfastening his trousers, lifting his hips enough to bare his thighs and free his straining erection. Then he pulls me back onto his lap with strength that awes me. This time I'm fully facing him, my legs straddle him. Even though I'm basically still dressed, I'm more exposed than I've ever been in my life.

He kisses me, unfastening the first few buttons of my dress with deft skill, pushing it so he can access what he wants—my tight, turned-on breasts. He traces hot kisses down the side of my neck and teases my nipples with his fingertips before fastening his mouth on one and feasting. I almost howl. I can feel the pressure of him at the apex of my thighs and all I can do is rock some more and moan. His hands work fast between us now. I hear the sound of the wrapper tearing, the hiss of breath as he rolls the protection down his erection. Am I really going to do this? Hell yes.

Nothing's ever felt like this. I don't think I'll feel anything like this again. My hunger just sharpens.

He pauses. ‘Are you sure?'

I've never been more sure of anything. The wind whips outside and every so often lightning cracks but I don't care. I'm no longer scared. Impatient, I push forward, pressing onto him. But something isn't quite right and the sudden pain is intense. I freeze.

‘Sweetheart?'

I chose not to tell him. I figured it doesn't matter. It's my business. But now I can't speak. I'm overwhelmed and all I want is for him to help me.

‘You're so tight,' he mutters between clenched teeth. ‘Has it been a while, darling?'

‘Y-yes.' A half-truth isn't a lie, right?

I don't want him to stop. But right now I'm frozen because I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to get through this. It's a searing, tearing sensation.

‘Let me help,' he grits.

‘Yes, please.' I need it—him.

He pulls out. I whimper because that's not what I wanted at all. But he kisses me and he's so tender with my mouth. His fingers are tender too. Slow and teasing and he sweeps me back into that heat. I melt again and soften. He strokes, not just one finger inside me, but two, then three—pumping me, priming me with slow deliberation. It's so much and so good I almost come again. That's when he slides his fingers from me. I hiss in frustration.

‘You're ready for me now,' he says, voice low.

‘Yes...' I roll my hips.

He grips them hard and holds me still. I feel his broad blunt tip and heat surges within me. I slide as he thrusts so we collide and merge. I moan helplessly but this time the strangeness of the sensation is surpassed by surging pleasure. Pain hits then disappears as his guttural groan makes me slicker and I take more of him still. The sliding friction is easier—and exquisite. I take him to the hilt, feeling suddenly powerful, and squirm closer still.

Neither of us are quiet now. The sighs are from me. The grunts from him as he leads me into a rhythm that's intense and undeniable. My mind, my body, close around him.

‘Dain,' I moan into the hot crook of his neck as I curl around him.

‘Now you're there, darling,' he murmurs approvingly, cradling me closer. ‘You did it, you've got me.'

‘Yes.' I want him. So much.

He's big and he's strong and the dragging sensation as he moves inside me is mind-blowingly delicious. What began as an amusement—as funny and tender and little more than a tease—has become something far more intense. There was another thread beneath that lightness—a ribbon of deeper desire that's now pulled free. We move together. He smothers me with kisses. It's as if he's wanted to do this for all eternity and now he has the chance, he's consuming me.

‘Oh, gorgeous,' he breathes against my neck over and over and over as I sway like a blossom in his hold. ‘You're just gorgeous.'

I melt in the heat of his approval. My eyes water again for a totally different reason. This is nothing like I've ever dreamed. It's better. Hell, maybe I'm already dead and I'm in heaven because this is the best feeling in the world.

‘I can't last much...' His voice is ragged and he's struggling for coherence and it's all the sweeter, hotter, dirtier.

All I can do is moan in reply. My eyes close. I feel enveloped—inside and out—in hot velvet and silky steel. The storm outside is forgotten. The swing of the car only adds to the sensation of fierce freedom. Of achieving an impossibility. I'm secure in his embrace yet it's the wildest moment of my life. Finally it overwhelms me. I cry out as I come so hard I don't know anything any more. There's total body annihilation. I hear his words—filthy and fierce—as he thrusts hard into me, harder than ever, and grips me to him. The moment is more sweet than I could have ever imagined possible.

I don't know how long it is later when I realise I'm slumped over him, my head resting on his chest. We're still intimately connected. I never want to move.

‘Imagine if the cable breaks now,' he mutters. ‘What a way to go though, right?'

‘Embarrassing if people found us locked together,' I mumble.

He nudges me gently. ‘Worth it? Not worth it?'

‘So worth it.' I lift my head and smile at him.

In the dim light cast from his phone I see him smile back and—

A screeching sound startles me. The cabin jolts severely and suddenly descends a few metres along the cable. His grip on me tightens to stop me from falling from his lap. The cabin lights blink a couple of times and then return to full power and Dain's arms loosen. I scramble off him and quickly tug down my dress, refasten the buttons at the neckline and scramble for my panties. My cheeks burn. So do other parts of me.

There's no camera in the cabin—thank goodness—but there is an intercom and it suddenly crackles, emitting a calming pre-recorded message saying we'll be at the ground soon and not to panic.

Dain swiftly does up his trousers and retrieves his phone from the floor. His shirt is half unbuttoned, his face flushed. He looks more than dishevelled—dissolute. As he glances up at me his muscles visibly tighten. I almost liquefy into a puddle on the floor. Apparently I've discovered my inner nymph.

But I gulp air, striving for nonchalance. ‘We should probably—'

His phone beeps with a series of messages. Then it actually rings.

He glances at the screen and answers immediately. ‘Simone? You okay?'

I can hear his godmother's tone but can't make out what she's saying. My heart kicks. Family loyalty matters to me. Well, some of my family. I would never not answer an invitation or call if my sister Ava needed me.

‘Fine. I'm fine.' His gaze is trained on me as he talks to her. ‘Everyone up there okay?' He nods reassuringly at me as he listens to what she says.

I smooth my hair and sit back down, grab my backpack and hold it on my lap in front of me like a protective shield.

Dain ends the call with Simone. ‘Talia—'

‘No regrets,' I quickly whisper.

His phone rings again. I see his frustration at the interruption but I'm relieved and gesture for him to answer it. I don't want to talk about what just happened. I don't want to analyse it or ruin it in any way. He lives in a different country. He's a billionaire and I'm a barista. This is over.

We're at the bottom of the gondola before that second call ends, before I can believe it. I can't believe anything about tonight. As the doors slide open there are five huge guys in firefighting gear waiting for us. I take advantage of the crowd and chaos to escape.

‘Talia!'

I ignore his call. I run into the night—taking control—because I don't want an awkward, embarrassing goodbye. There's nothing to say. This was a moment I'll never regret, a moment I'll always treasure.

But nothing will ever come of it.