Bound to the Billionaire: His Defiant Queen
Chapter 42: ALTITUDES AND ADMISSIONS
CHAPTER 42: ALTITUDES AND ADMISSIONS
EZRA
Immediately the food arrives, Harlem steps out; dressed in a black top that hugs all the right places and branded sweatpants.
I drop the food on the table and go to help her with her box. She looks at me like she wasn’t expecting that with wide eyes. I smile at her.
"I’ll take care of this. Go eat." I tell her and take her luggage, which is just a medium sized box and a tote bag to the car.
When I walk back in, she’s already eating on the couch, so I join her on the other end. I take note of the time and we have an hour before the flight.
"Thank you." She says. I turn to her and she’s already staring at me. I smile at her, staring at her radiantly pale skin and gold eyes; hair down in waves all around her and I have to tear my eyes away because she’s so gorgeous, it hurts.
"For what?" I say taking a bite of my food.
She sighs "For agreeing to come with me and for lending me your plane, which is free. Right?" she says the last part like she’s just realizing.
I turn to her "I don’t mind taking payment." I tell her, staring shamelessly at her.
She looks away, not before I see her turn a shade of red. "I don’t have anything that’s worth payment to you." She mumbles shoving her face with food.
"I wouldn’t say so." I reply. Food long forgotten, attention solely on the stunning tattooed woman in front of me.
She looks at me exasperatedly "Why not?" I smirk.
"Payment doesn’t have to come in forms of money." I say and she narrows her eyes slightly. "And it’s not in the way you’re thinking, Tamrin." I add.
"Then what?" she asks with a raised brow. Food also forgotten.
"Am I free to request something from you though?" I ask, holding my breath. She stalls, then nods.
"I would like you to pay me back with information about yourself. If that’s fine with you." My heart beats widely in my chest and it’s all I can to maintain my cool with this woman.
She stares at me for a beat, then sighs and bites her lips slightly. My eyes tracking the move like a honing target. "It’s fine with me, Ezra."
I smile, fully. She let me in. At least somewhat. I nod, realizing my emotions are linked to whatever this woman thinks of me.
"Thank you, Harlem. That’s the only form of payment I need." I tell her, smiling stupidly. And her pink full lips tilt up as well and she shoves her face with food, trying to hide it.
I stare at her as she eats, determined to figure out whatever it is that draws me to her so strongly.
"Why the sudden tattoos?" I ask her and she looks up at me.
"Is this your first question?" she asks smiling slightly. I nod.
She sighs "Well, they’re a significance of new beginnings, to me. And I’ve always wanted to get them and the recent happenings in my life seemed like perfect time. For me, it’s a matter of expression to myself. To embrace my emotions and not write them off. And my therapist told me it was a good idea and a good way to let things out." She says shrugging.
"You’re doing therapy?" I ask
She nods rapidly "Yeah, I need it. I actually just started after our vacation. Felt like good timing."
I nod, taking it all in. Taking HER all in. "I see."
"Yeah... are we going to miss the flight?" she asks and I only realize we’re both done with our food and thirty minutes have gone. Uh Oh. The pilot is NOT going to be ecstatic.
"Oh, shit. Yeah. I mean... No. We can still meet up if we leave now." I say, shooting up and packing up all the takeout.
I hear her chuckle and she comes to help me but I don’t let her. "It’s fine, princess. Just make sure you’re not forgetting anything."
She bites her lip and walks to her room awkwardly and it’s my turn to chuckle. I snap out of staring at her and throw the trash while putting the leftovers in her fridge. And can I just say, her house is hands down the cutest apartment I’ve ever come across. It’s pristine and spotless to somewhat unsettling precision with the extra white walls and neat environment. Her kitchen is small but it looks like no one lives in it... or in the house as a matter of fact. It’s giving minimalist-OCD and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a fan.
After a few minutes, we’re on the road to the airport. There’s soft music playing in the background, the air conditioner is on full blast and Harlem is fast asleep; her light sleep sounds echoing in the car. How she fell asleep so quickly baffles me, but I’m happy she’s getting some rest.
And as for me? I feel... good. Relaxed even. I’m not sure I felt this way, even at my vacation. I was too busy overthinking everything and I still am but it feels natural.
We arrive at the terminal owned by the company and I stare at Harlem, sleeping soundly. I don’t want to wake her cause she seemed tired, but I’m not sure she will be comfortable with me carrying her to the plane. Not that my mind went there.
I get out and the air hostesses welcome me and get our boxes from the back. Harlem doesn’t even stir. I round over to her side when they’re gone and open the door quietly.
I gently take her hand and then she stirs. "We’re at the airport, princess. Or would you like me to load the car unto the plane? Just say the word." I whisper.
Her eyes open slowly and she rolls them, slightly smiling. My heart has a mini cardiac arrest. "I’m awake. Please don’t load your car unto your plane. It’s unbecoming" She murmurs squeezing my hand slightly as she trudges out.
A smile threatens o slip from my face. She proceeds to look around and uses the sideview mirror to check how she looks. I just stare at her amusedly while she fluffs her hair and massages her eyes, probably trying to erase any evidence of sleep. Basic Model moves.
She turns to me "Are we late?"
"I mean. We have five minutes to board the plane. So, maybe?" I shrug, smirking.
She rolls her eyes again. "Well, are we going to keep standing here?" I laugh and take her hand, leading us to the plane. Someone’s not a morning person.
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The flight is supposed to be just about an hour to Warsaw. Harlem fell asleep on my shoulder for a moment, then proceeded to use the reclining function on the chair. Only waking up when they bring snacks or drinks. I place a blanket over her and brush the hair from her eyes because I don’t want her to suffocate on them of course. I’m not a monster.
During the flight, I research on Polish language and how to navigate my way around the country or rather, the city. I’ve only been there once on a one-day business trip with my dad when I was still a teenager. Fun experience but I hardly remember. I applaud myself though, for asking Mrs. Marilyn to rent us a car because the idea of public transportation is not the best to me.
I research a bit more, wondering why the hell I can learn another language when I haven’t finished learning mine when there’s a sudden movement on my left.
"What are you doing?" Harlem’s husky, sleepy voice echoes around the empty jet. I startle and turn to her and she’s halfway up, staring at me.
I clear my throat. "Uhm, doing some research on Poland."
She smirks "Oh my God. You’re such a CEO." She says, leaning on her wrist.
Is the air conditioner still on? Yeah, it’s probably our close proximity to the sun. Yeah, that’s the only reason I could be sweating. Right?
"I’ll take that as a compliment." I murmur, turning back to my iPad.
She snickers and proceeds to stretch in like twenty different ways. I try not to look. I swear I try. "Why are you so tired?" I ask her, almost embarrassingly breathless from the way her scent clouds my senses so quickly.
"I barely got any sleep last night. I was nervous as hell." She shrugs, going for the grapes on the table in front of us.
I look at her "Why? Last time I checked, you’re not the one getting married."
She sighs "Yeah, it’s my overthinking. I have... unfinished business in Poland. I actually almost didn’t go for my brother’s wedding." She says and snickers like something is funny. Not really.
My brows furrow and I’m instantly so intrigued. "I would love to know about how that almost came to be." My curiosity gets the best of me.
"Wouldn’t you?" she teases and stuff her face with more grapes.
I’m about to reply when she stands abruptly. "I’m going to use the toilet though. How long till landing?" she asks. I stare at her for a beat before answering "20 minutes."
She nods and walks towards the toilet direction while I just stare. Her perfume lingering faintly; vanilla and coconut, even after she was fully. The insatiable desire to know EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL. about Harlem Tamrin threatening to consume me whole.