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“Tony, make sure Marcos knows to go to my place and check on things. Have him forward anything that looks important to the D.C. office, and I’ll see you on board.”
Now I was confused. I thought Tony was the driver. Who the crap is Marcos? I’m surrounded by strange men. I looked down briefly. When I raised my head, my eyes landed on a very tall, young, hot man walking towards me. My body reacted in a way I had never experienced. I was trembling from head to toe, and a strange sensation settled in the lower half of my body.
I’ve never seen an executive or man that looked like this. Most of the executives at Morgan Grant were older and definitely not this fine. This man’s skin looked like rich black coffee. I wanted to touch his face to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. He was wearing a light grey suit and a simple white shirt, with the first few buttons undone to reveal more of that beautiful dark skin. He continued toward me and his spicy scent filled up the plane. This couldn’t be…
“Phillippe, we finally meet.” He extended his hand and I saw his guns. My God, every muscle in his body was at attention and now he was giving me permission to touch him.
“Hello.” I shook his hand and a spark erupted. No really, an electric shock.
“Must be the carpet,” he joked.
“Sir,” Gil appeared.
“Gil, thank you for taking care of Miss Townsend. Once we get on our way, please serve lunch. I haven’t eaten since this morning. When Tony gets back, tell the pilot wheels up. Thank you.”
“Yes sir.” Gil disappeared to the rear of the plane.
“Gabriella,” he looked at me and the most salacious thought crossed my mind.
Read what happened next in your copy of The Good Girl.
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