"You still flinch like I’m gonna catch you."

~$~

The private jet vibrates under my boots as I stumble a little, grabbing at the leather seat beside me. I mutter a curse under my breath, more out of frustration than fear, but then turbulence hits again—harder—and I nearly tip sideways.

Before I can fall flat on my face, a strong hand grabs my arm.

Warm. Familiar. Firm.

“Careful, O’Neal,” Reo murmurs beside me in a smooth but not teasing voice.

I freeze.

For a second, neither of us moves. My heart thuds loud in my ears, and his fingers are still wrapped around my forearm, thumb pressed against my pulse....