Hours later, she knew she might have underestimated the whole thing. Despite the Novocain, her mouth was throbbing when she left the dentist’s office. They had given her a prescription for pain medication and advised her to take a pill as soon as possible. Maybe someone with a better pain tolerance could have avoided it altogether; unfortunately, she wasn’t that person, so she stumbled into the pharmacy before heading home. She had never taken any prescription pain medication before, but she assumed that if she took a pill right before she left for the airport, it would kick in during the flight and give her a pain-free trip.

Damn it—of course she should have packed earlier, but as usual she had left it to the last minute. She was forced to grab a suitcase and fill it with whatever was clean. It also occurred to her that she should probably change into a pair of jeans, but her short skirt would have to do. She couldn’t seem to remove the hand that cradled her jaw for more than a few seconds. Maybe she was a baby, but it hurt like hell.

Five minutes before her taxi was due, she poured a glass of water and took the white pill from the dentist, cursing as she tossed the medication bottle in her carry-on bag and the pills inside spilled out everywhere. She had just grabbed the bottle intending to put them back in when a horn sounded. Shit. Throwing the bottle in the cabinet, she grabbed her bags and was hurrying to the door when it hit her. She had forgotten to pack underwear; she debated just buying some in Miami, but knowing her luck, she would never get away from Brant to do it. Running back into the bedroom as the taxi horn sounded again, she pulled her lingerie drawer completely out and dumped it in the top of her bag—no time to pick out her favorites today. The last thing she needed was to miss her ride to the airport. She could just imagine the smirk on Brant’s face if she missed the plane she was blackmailing him into taking. Not going to happen.

Brant had arrived at the airport a couple of hours early as he always did. Emma was right—he did have some hang-ups. When you were forced to rush, things got overlooked and mistakes were made. If you planned things carefully, there were fewer problems in life. He closed his laptop and looked at his watch again. The plane would start boarding in fifteen minutes and Emma hadn’t arrived yet. By this point he should have known better than to be surprised. If she didn’t show, he would fly to Miami, attend his meeting and arrange a flight home for the next day.

Before he could ponder the strange feeling of disappointment that had crept in at that thought, he saw Emma racing toward him with a huge smile on her face. He rose to his feet, rooted in place. She reserved that genuine smile for her friends. Any smile bestowed on him was of the sarcastic variety. He had never been the recipient of the real thing from her. He cleared his throat, ready to launch the first verbal bullet when she threw her arms around him. What the fuck?

“Oh my God, I made it! My taxi driver almost left me because I forgot my panties and someone hit someone else and we got stuck in traffic. Whewww!”

Brant stood frozen in shock with her in his arms. She had her body curved tightly to his with no sign of letting go. When she started making sniffing noises against his neck, he pulled back.

“Mmmm, you smell so good. You always do. I could just eat you up.”

What had gotten into her? He didn’t know how to react. He may have been frozen in place, but his cock wasn’t. It was standing at attention, desperate to get closer to the female curves still pressed against him. “Emma . . . is something . . . are you . . . drunk?”

She finally stepped back out of his embrace, giving him a lopsided, glassy-eyed smile.

“’Course not, silly. I haven’t had anything but water today. My dentist told me, nothing cold or hot.” Looking adorably confused, she added, “So what am I supposed to do? That covers everything.”

He was starting to feel as confused as she looked. He knew she had had a dental appointment, but had assumed it was for a cleaning. “What exactly did you have done today? Emma . . . Emma, can you focus for a minute?” She looked up from her inspection of the buttons on his shirt. “Did you have a cleaning appointment today?”

“Nope.” She shook her head vigorously for extra emphasis. “I got a root thingie done.” Then tears gathered in her eyes as she added, “It really hurt.”

He was starting to get the picture now. Just how much nitrous oxide had they given her? Shouldn’t it have worn off by now? She looked like she was as high as a kite. God, he was glad she had called a taxi. “Emma, maybe we should cancel this trip and get you home. I don’t think you’re in any condition to fly.”

The tears that had gathered in her eyes before now started flooding down and he placed both of his hands on her shoulders for support. “Please don’t leave me. I already told everyone that you’re coming. If you don’t, I’ll have to deal with my family on my own.”

As he prepared to convince her, the PA system announced the final boarding for their flight. Apparently, he had missed the first announcements. In surprise, he watched the tears stop and her head come up in determination. She waved her ticket in her hand and wobbled toward the attendant. Shit, if he didn’t go with her, she would probably get thrown off the damn plane by an air marshal.

He reached her, sliding an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “Are you sure about this?”

Giving him a blinding smile, she said, “Yep. Let’s do this.” Really, if he had any sense he would listen to the voice in his head screaming a protest, and he would have turned and run the other way. Instead, the protective instinct he was born with reared its head and he found himself walking down the corridor toward the door of the plane with her securely under his arm. Once she put her head on his shoulder, he felt something unfamiliar inside of him flicker. Get a grip, man. This is no different from helping Ava would be. You don’t feel anything for Emma. Remember all of the ways she chaps your ass on a daily basis. . . .

His pep talk was a miserable failure. There was no way he could convince his body that the woman beside him was like a sister to him. His cock wasn’t buying into it. The little fucker was a lot smarter than he gave him credit for being.

Even after being blackmailed into the trip, Brant had still grudgingly let Emma use his frequent-flier miles to book seats in first class. He had never been more grateful to have a few more inches to put between himself and another person. If they were in the three side-by-side seats in coach, she would probably either be in his lap the entire flight or worse yet, some stranger’s lap on her other side. He led her to the window seat and, after a moment’s pause, leaned down to fasten her seat belt. He stored both their carry-ons in the overhead bin before buckling in beside her.