Sylvia nodded and turned to head back to her seat. As she passed the man in the row beside her, he deliberately brushed her leg with his own.


    She''d had enough. "Sir, if you ''identally'' do that again, I might just have an ident of my own. And trust me, when I lose it, this whole ne might have to turn around."


    Instead of being offended, the man justughed, even more amused.


    "Fiery, aren''t you? Has anyone ever told you you''re even cuter when you''re mad?"


    "Oh, bite me-"


    Sylvia saw his leg sneak over again, so she raised her stiletto, ready to stomp down hard.


    Just then, a flight attendant appeared beside her.


    "Ms. Lloyd?"


    "Yes?" Sylvia lowered her foot.


    "Your colleague asked if you coulde to the front for a moment." The attendant gestured ahead.


    Assuming it was Eloise who needed her, Sylvia quickly grabbed her bag and followed.


    But instead of the main cabin, the attendant led her up the stairs to the first-ss deck.


    Orson waved her over. "Ms. Lloyd, over here."


    Sylvia paused, putting it all together just a bit toote. She turned to leave. "That won''t be necessary, thank you."


    Before she could go, a hand reached out from one of the plush seats and caught her wrist.


    "nning to go back to get harassed by that creep?"


    The deep voice was calm, almostzy. She looked up-Rupert.


    Thinking of that guy from coach, Sylvia pressed her lips together.


    Before she could reply, Rupert pulled her onto hisp, his arms locking her in ce.


    Heat rushed up her face as she tried to squirm away, but he only held her tighter. She red at him and hissed under her breath, "Uncle Rupert."


    Rupert tossed his papers onto the tray table and held her by the waist,pletely unfazed. "So polite out here in public. Didn''t even throw a punch this time."


    Sylvia''s cheeks burned.


    Orson and the attendant had already made themselves scarce, and the other first- ss seats were empty.


    Half-drawn curtains let in the soft morning light, spilling over Rupert''s hands-a strange, beautiful sight.


    Reality snapped back. Sylvia struggled harder. "Let me go."


    "Go?" Rupert''s tone dropped.


    "Yeah."


    She nodded, thinking he''d finally listened.


    Instead, Rupert hit the recline button, and the seat ttened into a bed. Sylvia toppled backward, helpless.


    Rupert rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. “Like this?"


    The t seat barely held one person, let alone two. Now, their bodies were pressed together, no space to spare.


    She could feel the heat radiating from him, her own back starting to sweat. She bit her lip, trying to stay


    cool. "Uncle Rupert, I''m not a


    first-ss passenger. I''m not


    supposed to be up here."


    She started to get up, but his hand slid around her waist, holding her down.


    She looked up and met Rupert''s


    zing eyes. Panic red. She tried


    to kick free, but he just hooked his long legs around hers.


    Sylvia''s eyes widened. He leaned in, yanked the curtain closed-plunging them


    into darkness.


    "Mm-"


    Sylvia bit her tongue to keep from


    making a sound, but the rustle


    their clothes was almost


    embarrassingly loud in the confined space.


    A momentter, Rupert finally let go, his voice thick with restraint. "Upgraded your


    seat. Try to get some rest."


    "Hm?"


    "Get off me first," Sylvia gritted out, her whole body burning.


    He just smirked, ncing down pointedly. "You sure it''s me who''s not letting go?"


    Sylvia followed his gaze-and instantly regretted it.