Chapter 5

His voice was a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated right through her chest. Joanna swallowed down her unease, quickly unbuckling to let him pass. As he slid past her in the cramped space, his chest brushed against her shoulder. The brief, intense heat of his skin through his tailored suit sent a sharp jolt of electricity straight down her spine.

Julian sat, immediately ignoring her as he opened his laptop. Joanna settled back, her eyes helplessly drawn to him. He was striking. Gorgeous, really, with a sharp, commanding jawline. In her dream, he went by the Executioner, a terrifying powerhouse who wielded rare, devastating lightning.

Joanna felt a sudden thrill. If I tame him, we’ll dominate.

She leaned slightly into his space, letting her gaze linger on his profile until he felt it. Julian paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Slowly, he turned his head. His eyes narrowed, assessing her with a cold, predatory intensity.

Joanna didn't flinch. Instead, she let a slow, provocative smile spread across her lips. Opportunity for bold, she reminded herself. She held out her hand, her fingers brushing the cuff of his sleeve. "Hi. I'm Joanna. How are you?"

Julian glanced down at her hand, but didn't take it. His eyes swept over her casual cargo pants and sleeveless top, lingering on the exposed skin of her collarbone before snapping back to her eyes.

"I am not interested," he said, his voice dripping with smooth, arrogant ice.

Joanna let out a low, amused laugh, leaning in a fraction closer. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I don't want to date you."

Julian blinked, a rare crack in his composure. His gaze darkened, his voice dropping an octave, meant only for her ears. "You’ve been staring at me since the terminal. People look at me for two reasons: they want to make a business deal—and you aren't dressed for business—or they are looking for a rich man to take care of them. Which one are you, Joanna?"

The way his tongue clicked against his teeth when he said her name made her pulse race. She frowned curtly, refusing to let him see how much his presence affected her. "I'm not interested in your money, and I'm definitely not interested in your body. So you can relax."

Julian let out a short, cynical breath, turning back to his screen. But the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. For the next twenty minutes, as the flight attendants served drinks, neither of them spoke, but Joanna could feel the heavy, magnetic pull of his weight right next to hers.

With only thirty minutes left before landing, she decided to break him.

Joanna turned fully in her seat, giving him a pointed, unblinking stare. She cleared her throat. Julian didn't look up, but she saw the muscle in his jaw clench. Finally, he shut his laptop with a snap and turned his full, suffocating attention toward her.

"Look," Joanna whispered, leaning so close her breath fanned his cheek. "Your name is Julian Hawthorne. You own Hawthorne Industries. And the only person in this world you truly love is your grandmother."

Julian froze. The cold mask didn't break, but a dangerous, feral flicker ignited in his eyes.

"She is in a hospital in Aurora right now with terminal cancer," Joanna continued, her voice a soft, intimate purr. She reached out, her fingertips hovering just millimeters away from his tense forearm. "She has less than a month to live. Tops."

The air between them turned combustible. A suffocating, lethal aura rolled off him, but Joanna didn't back down. She held his gaze, her heart hammering against her ribs—not out of fear, but adrenaline.

"How do you know these things?" Julian demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh, dangerous whisper. He leaned in, trapping her against the armrest, his chest agonizingly close to hers. "Who are you? Who sent you?"

Joanna snorted, tilting her head up to meet his dark, searching stare. "I know more about your future than your past, Julian. But you won't believe me. So let’s make a bet. I’ll tell you three things. When they come true, you’ll know I’m the only one who can help you. In return? You come find me when the time is right. Deal?"

Julian stared at her lips, his breath coming a little faster. The silence stretched between them, heavy and loaded.

"I'm listening," he murmured.

Joanna leaned in until her lips were practically brushing his ear, her voice a breathless whisper. "Your grandmother is going to ask you to spread her ashes on the tallest mountain in her hometown. When you go, make sure you have a helicopter nearby. And Julian?" She pulled back just enough to look into his stunned eyes. "Bring a gun. Thanksgiving weekend is going to be a bloodbath. You’ll need it to fight your way back home."

Julian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. He looked completely undone. "How... I only spoke to her about the ashes last week. No one else knows."

"I know," Joanna said softly, letting her eyes drop to his mouth before looking away. "Also, Elliot is launching a hostile takeover of your company. He has a spy inside. A mole."