A Mile High

By Bethany-Kris

Olivia wants a vacation, that’s all, but when the airline screws up her plans for a getaway to the beautiful Barbados, instead putting her on a new path that intertwines with the handsome, funny, and charming Sal, she can’t say no to his offer of joining the mile high club. Their meeting is explosive, attraction intense, and when the flight ends, Olivia is unwilling to part ways but unable to voice her wants. Still, fate is at work with its own plan, and where it finishes just might not be where it ends up.

There’s nothing quite like sex at a mile high.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Sep 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781771305792

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www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Bethany-Kris

ISBN: 978-1-77130-579-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To D, for eleven years of never once saying, You can't.

A MILE HIGH

Bethany-Kris

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

Olivia, you can’t be serious! I turned at the angry voice behind me. My brother Josh, appearing livid as he took in the hurricane-worthy mess my bedroom had turned into, stared back. You can’t just up and go for a week without some kind of notice.

Like hell I couldn’t. I owned my own business, made my own hours, and so long as the clients were satisfied and the end-product was pleasing to the eye, I couldn’t see why I didn’t deserve a vacation.

Yes, I damned well can, I muttered. I tossed the stark white bikini small enough to be considered scraps of string held together by practically nothing at all, into my luggage and sighed. Listen—

No, you listen, he interrupted sharply with fingers pointing at me. The infamous bitch brow I was known for made an appearance, but Josh didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the sight. We have that contract due with The Haven, for their Web site, in a month. You still need to finish the codes on that new blog’s final page. And Sylvia called yesterday, about the issues with her customers being unable to see their finished orders before they confirm purchases. We have a lot of work to do right now. This is not the time for you to get in one of your moods, sis.

One of my moods? I sneered, scoffing. He didn’t have a fucking clue. I wished he would get one really fast, but instead, I felt compelled to give it to him myself. "This isn’t just some mood. I have been doing this for four years, Josh. I work hard, but I have no life and you know I don’t. I want a week, that’s all, nothing more. I’ll even take my laptop with me, and work on whatever I can while I’m there. Give me a break. I need one."

His stance softened momentarily. Could you at least take twenty freaking minutes to work out whatever is wrong with Sylvia’s pages, and then maybe fix it if possible? The familiar green eyes that matched mine rolled as he grumbled, She keeps calling every time she loses an order on her Web site to remind me that once again, it’s still not fixed. I’ve had it up to here with her, honestly.

She pays really well, I reminded him, trying lamely to keep the haughty tone out of my voice. I’d warned him, after our first meeting with that woman, that she would give us nothing but issues. It was probably she who had done something to her own Web site that ended up screwing her checkout page beyond her own repair. Generally, clients who allowed me to manage their Web sites simply sent periodic e-mails on instructions and desired changes, but not this client. Sighing, I looked at my watch. I have to be at the airport in an hour and a half. I’m not sure there’s time for me to fix it today.

My brother pulled out all his old tricks: big eyes, pouting lip, and the nickname. "Liv…please. One more late-night call with her waking us up, and Natalie’s threatened to move out of the apartment."

Boohoo to you, is what I wanted to say.

His girlfriend could use a swift kick in the ass and to be sent on her merry way, as far as I was concerned. Useless to the extreme, lazy on a good day, and far too demanding and controlling of my brother, Natalie hadn’t exactly met my nicer side yet, not that she ever would. Unless of course she grew up and started acting like a woman who could take care of herself and didn’t mooch off the hard-earned money my brother made working for my Web design company.

Come on. Josh’s quiet voice brought me out of my nasty thoughts. Don’t do that.