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As I took her arm like a solicitous boyfriend, she had a look in her eyes like she wanted to bolt, but she’d agreed to come back to America with me.
It would be dangerous for me to let her go now. If she was sent by someone — the CIA, DEA, or one of my competitors — then she might have gotten what she came for when she’d slept in my bed.
I had no idea what was missing from my room, but if she’d taken anything, I would notice eventually. I might as well take control of the situation now.
We walked up the stairs. The hostel was nearly deserted — I supposed that most of the backpackers were out and about during t
he day. I didn’t know if this hostel was a particularly safe place for her to sleep, but she wouldn’t be here long.
She quickly packed her bags while I admired how efficient she was. She had enough clothing to last three months, but she had everything packed properly in less than an hour.
I walked her downstairs, holding her large suitcase in one hand and keeping the other one on her waist.
I could feel the tension in her back, but she didn’t say anything or ask me to stop.
I was going to keep her close until I found out if she was sent to take me out.
Although if she were an assassin, she should’ve already killed me in my sleep. She was probably after some kind of information, but I wasn’t a fool.
I didn’t keep that at home.
As far as my household staff knew, I was a petrolero, one of the wealthy elite of Ecuador who had tons of oil money.
I flagged down a taxi and asked him to take us to UIO, the new airport.
Private Hangar in Quito
Naelle
I looked out the window at the private hangar. My parents were wealthy, but I’d always flown business class, not in a private jet.
Emilio apparently had one that he could easily call at a moment’s notice.
Someone must have taken out my suitcase, because suddenly the handle was in Emilio’s hand.
I frowned.
“Don’t you need a suitcase? Are you just going to buy stuff there?”
“I keep a suitcase here.”
“Of course.”
It was normal for him to travel in his private jet. I was out of my depth here.
I cursed Past Naelle for letting him take her home. If I hadn’t slept with him… if I hadn’t decided to go up to the TeleferiQo… I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.
Still, I had to admit that I was the tiniest bit excited about going on a private jet for the first time. Yeah, the circumstances weren’t ideal, but I’d take it.
I just wouldn’t say thank you.
I fumed quietly as I walked in front of him. I looked at the steps. They were sort of flimsy.
“Are they safe?” I asked him.
“Safe as houses,” he said cheerfully, as if he weren’t bundling me into a jet and making me go home to America.
I didn’t know why he was so suspicious, but he was obviously overly paranoid. Who would think that an American tourist would be hunting them down at the top of a mountain? He obviously had issues.
