The Mighty Quinns: Ryan

“Jaysus, you will be traveling in style,” Rogan said, laughing softly.

“Thanks for the lift,” Ryan said. “I’ll see you in a week.”

The door to the plane dropped down, and Ryan jumped out and grabbed his gear from the rear seat. “Wish me luck,” he said.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing any,” Rogan said. “Stay out of trouble.”

Ryan waved and swung his bag over his shoulder, then jogged across the tarmac to the waiting plane. A young man appeared in the doorway as Ryan climbed the steps.

“Mr. Quinn?”

“Yes,” Ryan said.

“Welcome aboard. I’m Miles DuMont. I’m the studio publicist. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ryan shook his hand. “A publicist?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he whispered. “You’ll barely know I’m here. I’m just along to make sure we control the message. And get a few good photos.”

“The message? What does that mean?” Ryan asked as he moved past him.

“Ms. Hightower tends to find herself in the middle of a media firestorm wherever she goes. I’m the one who carries the fire extinguisher.”

The interior of the plane was dark and silent. Ryan stowed his gear in a locker and glanced toward the back of the plane. “They’ve all had plenty to drink,” Miles said. “Come on back. I’ll introduce you to Serena.”

Ryan followed Miles down the aisle of the plane. Four passengers were curled up in the wide leather seats, sound asleep, but a reading light glowed from a seat at the rear.

“Ms. Hightower?”

Ryan held his breath when he got his first glimpse of the actress. She was stunning. Her long hair was pulled back from her fresh-scrubbed face, and she wore dark-rimmed glasses, which did nothing to hide her large liquid-blue eyes.

“Ms. Hightower, this is Ryan Quinn, the guide.”

She smiled warmly and Ryan’s pulse leaped. He knew he ought to say something, but he couldn’t seem to put the words together. Hell, he was the last guy in the world who would be starstruck, but she was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. “Hello,” he finally managed.

“Hi,” she said, sending him a coy smile. She stared at him for a long moment and Ryan wondered if she could read his thoughts. Not that his thoughts were any different from those of every other bloke who had the pleasure of meeting her. She slowly reached out her hand, and Ryan took it.

“I—I have some interesting adventures planned for you,” he said, his fingers tingling.

“Good. I’m looking forward to having some fun. Do you like to have fun, Quinn? Or are you like Thom Perry? Do you think I need to behave myself?”

“I—” Ryan frowned, drawing his hand away. She spoke with a distinct British accent. He’d assumed she was American, but clearly he’d been wrong. “What was the question?”

She laughed softly. “Miles, why don’t you get Quinn something to eat and drink. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us and I’m sure he’d like to settle in.”

“Yes, Ms. Hightower.”

With that, Ryan nodded, then turned and made his way to a seat at the front of the plane. He looked back once to see Serena leaning into the aisle and watching his retreat.

“Be warned,” Miles said. “That innocent smile hides a very naughty side. Don’t be taken in.”

“No, of course not,” Ryan murmured.

But as he sank into the soft leather seat, a strange sense of anticipation settled over him. He couldn’t help but be curious. Who was Serena Hightower? And why did the simple touch of her hand startle him so?

He rubbed his hand on the faded fabric of his jeans, as if the action might banish all thoughts of Serena from his head. But it didn’t work. Unless he regained a measure of control, this was going to be a very long trip.

* * *

SERENA HIGHTOWER STARED out the window of the jet, her gaze fixed on the blinking light at the end of the wing. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to clear the chaotic thoughts from her mind.

She rubbed her hands together, wondering why the effects of the man’s touch seemed to linger. Yes, Ryan Quinn was attractive...and sexy...and he had a dangerous air. And, yes, any woman would find him irresistible. But she was engaged. Engaged to be married in a few weeks! And all she could think about was some stranger she’d just met.

“Ryan,” she murmured. “Ryan Quinn.”

Serena groaned. How had she allowed this engagement to get so far? When she’d accepted Ben’s proposal, she’d never really believed it would result in a wedding. She’d been infatuated, giddy with the romance of being in love. But the realities of their situation had soon begun to emerge. They hadn’t dated very long, and Serena had soon realized that she didn’t really know Ben. Though they were both actors with high-profile careers and permanent places in the gossip magazines, they had very different ideas about a commited relationship, especially when it came to fidelity.

Serena had spent a lifetime watching her parents make a hash of their multiple marriages. Living life as the only child of a celebrity couple should have opened her eyes to the realities of love, especially the fact that actors had so many temptations to stray.

When they’d first gotten involved, Serena hadn’t cared that Ben Thayer had a reputation as a player—she’d just taken it as a reality of the biz. Besides, she hadn’t been concerned about getting hurt, because she was going into the marriage with her eyes wide open.

So how had she lost control of this?

For some reason she’d assumed that the media would be happy to report the engagement and then move on to more interesting stories. But they’d immediately pressed her to set a wedding date. She’d just tossed a date out, figuring she could always change her mind. Unfortunately, her “team” had taken the date as gospel and had begun to plan, clearing her schedule, searching for wedding venues, hiring a wedding planner.

While she’d been away shooting a movie, her entire wedding had been planned for her, and she’d passed the point of no return before she’d even had a chance to scream “Stop!” Breaking her engagement now would bring a riot of bad press at a time when her career and her reputation as an actress hung in the balance.

Serena had always wanted to be taken seriously as an actress. Yet most of her career to date had been built on popular and not critically acclaimed films. But her most recent film was different. It was her chance to show she was a capable actress.

She would no longer be the child of Will Sheridan and Cassandra Hightower-Fellowes, or the fiancée of Ben Thayer, or the beautiful face that graced the pages of fashion magazines. She wouldn’t be famous for being famous. Once this movie was released, she’d be Serena Hightower, a serious actress.

And then she’d finally be satisfied, finally be happy with her life. This had to be it. She’d tried everything else—meditation, yoga, Kabbalah, juicing—whatever trend had come along, Serena had tried it, hoping that she’d find the answers to her questions. One question, actually. With everything she’d achieved in life, everything she possessed, why couldn’t she be happy?

It was a simple question, yet one that seemed to plague her mind. There had to be something more to life than this. She had money. She had fame. She had every possession she could ever wish for. And if she went ahead with the wedding, she’d have a marriage.

Serena reached out and poured herself a glass of warm champagne. They’d opened the bottles hours ago as a celebration of the adventure they were about to have. But now, the taste of the flat champagne mirrored her feelings.

She pushed out of her seat and wandered to the front of the jet. Her four bridesmaids were sound asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the trip and too much champagne. Miles had his nose buried in his laptop. She glanced over at the passenger they’d taken aboard in Auckland.

Serena plopped down beside him. “Can’t sleep?”

He turned away from the window and met her gaze. “I never sleep on planes.”

The urge to touch him again was overwhelming. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his thick dark hair. Why did she find him so fascinating? She’d known her share of handsome men. But Ryan Quinn wore his good looks like he wore his clothes, casually and comfortably. This was a man who never worried over wrinkles and Botox and the effect aging would have on his career. This was a real man.

“So, you’re the nanny Thom has sent along to watch over us,” Serena said, settling back into the leather seat and tucking her feet up under her.

“Nanny?”