Strangers Eyes
Never lock eyes with a stranger at an airport gate. It’s an unwritten rule of travel, and I have just broken it.
He is leaning against a pillar near Gate 21, looking like he belongs on a billboard rather than a delayed flight to London. But it isn’t his looks that make my skin prickle; it is the sheer intensity of his stare. He doesn’t look away when my eyes catch him. He just holds my gaze, his eyes drilling into mine until the gate agent announces pre-boarding and breaks the spell.
Ten minutes later, I am safely buckled into my business class seat, staring out at the rainy runway and putting the weird encounter behind me.
Then, the scent of expensive cedarwood and rain fills the air. Someone sits down in the booth next to mine.
“Small world,” a smooth voice whispers right next to my ear.
My neck snaps around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. It is him. Up close, his eyes are a piercing, impossible shade of blue, and the intensity I felt across the terminal is now magnified tenfold in the cramped confines of the airplane.
“You’re staring again,” he notes, a slow, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he buckles his seatbelt.
I force my eyes back to the window, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I open my mouth to say something and close it again then open it again and then instead of a snappy remark I say “I wasn’t staring. I was in deep thought, and you happened to be in the way.” And I curse myself. Could I have been any more lame in my response?
“Right,” he murmurs, leaning back into his seat but never taking his eyes off the side of my face. “Let’s go with that.”
I ignore the shiver his deep voice sends straight down my spine. Resolutely, I pull my laptop out of my bag and flip the screen open. Work is the perfect distraction, and I desperately need to finish the report on findings for the New York office for my boss, Mr. Vance.
As I log into the secure server, the bright blue logo of Vance Enterprises fills the screen. I see the stranger take a look, and I sigh, waiting for another snappy remark.
But he stays silent.
For the rest of the flight, he doesn’t say another word, but his overwhelming presence fills the entire cabin. I try to focus on the report and avoid getting caught staring again, but this man just draws me in. My eyes keep wandering back to him like they have a mind of their own.
It isn’t until the wheels hit the tarmac and the chaotic scramble of deplaning begins that I lose sight of him. By the time I reach the crowded baggage carousel, I scan the sea of faces to see if I can catch a last glimpse of him, but the mysterious stranger is gone.
It is like he vanished into thin air.
Which is exactly what I would like to do right now, too. The suffocating crowd of Heathrow Airport is seriously getting to me. All those passengers aggressively crowding the belt, trying to get front-row seats just to wait for their bags, never fails to annoy me. Getting your own luggage off the moving belt is always a total nightmare—like heading straight into a warzone where you have to physically push people aside just to collect what’s yours.
By the time I finally yank my suitcase off the belt, I am completely exhausted and ready to put the memory of the intense stranger behind me.
Two days later, I walk into my boss’s office for our weekly briefing, completely focused on the week ahead.
The intense stranger from the airport is now nothing more than a distant memory.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Mr. Vance says, looking up from his desk with a wide smile. “I want you to meet our new primary investor and partner for the upcoming merger. He just flew in from New York.”
The high-backed leather chair in front of the desk slowly turns around.
My breath catches in my throat. Shit. It is him. The stranger.
His casual outfit from the plane is gone, replaced by a flawless, custom-tailored charcoal suit. His piercing blue eyes are exactly the same, locking onto mine with a predatory intensity as he looks me up and down.
Right now, I am incredibly happy that I put some extra effort into my appearance this morning. I am still experiencing a bit of jetlag and woke up early. Since I couldn’t sleep, I went for a run, curled my hair, and gave my makeup some extra attention. I am wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse and black stilettos. In this exact moment, this outfit feels like my armor.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Mr. Vance says, chuckling softly. “Sorry, Matthew. Ashley normally isn’t this shy.”
That snaps me back to the present. “I am sorry, Mr. Vance.”
I turn to introduce myself, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Ashley Turner. Nice to meet you.”
Matthew stands up and takes my hand. Pure electricity runs through my body the very second his skin touches mine.
“Matthew O’Connell. Nice to meet you, Ashley.” His voice is just as velvety as it was on the plane. His hand lingers longer than necessary in mine, and I can’t seem to look away.
Only when Mr. Vance clears his throat does Matthew finally release my hand.
What is it with this guy? I seem to lose all my professionalism and sensibility, the second I am near him.
“Please take a seat, Ashley,” Mr. Vance says, gesturing to the chairs. “We need to fill you in on this new merger, and we need to discuss some requests Matthew made.”
I take a seat. Matthew sits directly across from me, while Mr. Vance takes his place at the head of the table.
“The merger is a hotel chain with locations in Italy, Spain, and Portugal,” Mr. Vance explains. “Matthew will be staying here for the duration of the merger. Since his own assistant didn’t travel with him, he needs an assistant on site, and I suggested he can use you.”
I look up, my heart making a dangerous flip. “You want me to be his assistant?”
“Yes,” Mr. Vance says with a nod. “Only temporarily, of course. You have a background in hospitality, and this requires some extensive travel over the upcoming months. Since you are the only assistant with no children or partner, you are the perfect fit.”
At the mention of me having no partner or kids, I see Matthew look up at me with a subtle, knowing smirk.
Hell no, buddy, I think to myself. That will definitely not happen.
I have a strict rule about not mixing business with pleasure. I worked too hard to get where I am now. I also learned the hard way that in this line of business, men feel extremely entitled and completely lose sight of boundaries and consequences.
My mind flashes back to Henry. I met him during my first year working for the company. He was handsome, tall, an easy talker—and a client, which made him completely off-limits. But he pursued me relentlessly, and after a business dinner with a few too many drinks, I finally gave in. We kissed and ended up in his room. The very next morning, I learned the bastard was married.
When he pleaded with me to keep it a secret so we could continue seeing each other, I made myself crystal clear: we would keep it a secret, but only because if he ever mentioned it to anyone, his wife would find out. I told him I never wanted to see him again. That situation taught me a harsh, painful lesson.
However, I can’t deny that this merger is a massive career opportunity. I learned my lesson with Henry, and I will stay focused on the job and nothing else.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Vance,” I say smoothly. “But what about the projects I am currently working on?”
“Well, I think Nancy has some room on her plate. If you can hand over your remaining projects to her, you can focus entirely on this merger.” Mr. Vance smiles, completely oblivious to the silent war across his desk. “I have freed up an office for Matthew, and he requested that your desk be added to his office so you can work closely together.”
My desk, in his office. The whole day, working right next to each other. His gaze on me, constantly. Goosebumps break out across my skin. “Fuck me”, This might be the biggest challenge I’ve faced in a long time. I haven’t had this kind of reaction to a man in years.
No. No, no. I will keep this professional.
I force a bright smile onto my face. “That sounds perfect, Mr. Vance. I cannot wait to start. If I may, I will go and discuss the ongoing projects with Nancy now and join Matthew as soon as that is done.”
I need to get out of this office immediately. I need to gather my thoughts and figure out exactly how I am going to survive working within arm’s reach of Matthew O’Connell.
Matthew leans back in his seat, crosses his arms, and follows me with his eyes as I get up to leave the meeting room. Even when I reach Nancy’s desk outside, I can still feel the intense burn of his gaze on my back.
