Nervous Flier Read Online Free

turned her attention toward the house again. Dawson's smile slipped from his face and he headed for his front door. After she followed him up to it, Dawson dug around in his pocket and pulled out a copper key. He inserted the key into the door and then stepped inside. Noel hesitated at the threshold as she gazed into the darkened hallway. Her heart thundered in her chest as she strained to breathe. In front of her, Dawson headed deeper down the hallway. He turned on the light, then turned around to grin at her. When she did not come inside, he raised an eyebrow in silent question. After taking a deep breath, Noel stepped inside the house, feeling as though she was knowingly diving into an active volcano.
    As Noel followed Dawson down the hall, she examined the sky blue walls hung with ocean paintings. When she entered the kitchen which adjoined with a spacious, carpeted living room painted ivy green, she noted once again that this place didn't have the feel of a bachelor pad. As she took in the dark green leather couch, she did notice, though, a layer of dust which blanketed the material. A wave of relief washed over Noel. Maybe Dawson was just a guy with artistic décor. The man owned a travel magazine, after all. That called for creative zeal.
    "Sorry it's so dirty." Dawson took her examination of the dirt as a bad thing instead of as a good thing. "I haven't gotten around to getting it cleaned yet. I might bring in my regular cleaning lady to do it."
    "I wish I could afford a regular cleaning lady." Noel pouted, then straightened up.
    "I get a discount. My sister owns a cleaning company."
    Dawson beamed at her as if discounts on cleaning were all a man could ever want and then leaned down and opened one of his drawers and pulled out a phone book. On the lemon yellow kitchen wall, Noel saw an off-white house phone. She was shocked that a man with obvious wealth would have to use a house phone and a phone book when he could easily afford a new phone with internet access.
    "Not much of a phone guy?" Noel asked. "I ’m used to everybody having a cell phone search engine."
    "Not really. I like to enjoy nature. I get too addicted to texting and forget the world exists. You would think I would love phones with the amount of technology I use to produce my magazines, but nope." Dawson flipped to the right page of the phone book and ran his finger down the lines of text. "Plus, everybody calls me on my house phone. You did."
    "I see." Good thing I didn't text him. "I guess that makes sense."
    "Don't worry. When I get a cell phone, you'll be the first person I'll tell." Dawson grinned at her, then once again began to examine the phone book. "Which sounds better? Ralphy Mendez Taxi Service or Driving with Mr. Michael's?"
    For a moment Noel didn't say anything. She was shocked. When she had gone into Peter's hotel room, this was when he had shoved her against the wall and pawed at her shirt. Maybe Dawson didn't find her attractive enough to do that. Maybe he wasn't into bigger women and found her ugly. Her stomach sunk in disappointment. You idiot, she chided herself. Why are you disappointed? You didn't want him to attack you. But her stomach sunk anyway. As much as she imagined shoving Dawson away, she had wanted him to approach her. The fact made her feel dirty. After all, she had just been broken up with. She should have been in mourning, not feeling hot, bothered, and grumpy that a man didn't want to rip off her clothes.
    "I think Ralphy Mendez Taxi Service sounds better," Dawson continued as if she had spoken. "Driving with Mr. Michael's sounds a bit creepy to me, for some reason. I'll be going with you to make sure you get home all right, but let's not take any chances, shall we?"
    Noel blinked as she tried to recover. It was ridiculous how hurt she felt about the fact Dawson hadn't pawed her breasts. "Right. Ralphy Mendez it is."
    "Great." Dawnson's brows furrowed as he gazed at her with open-mouthed concern. "You okay? Your