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As an answer it was both glib and plausible, but she knew instinctively that he wasn’t telling her the truth.
Why did he want the island?
And why was he so tense?
She turned to look at him, her expression suddenly intent. She wanted to know. ‘Talk to me, Zander. Please. Tell me what you’re thinking.’
‘I never tell anyone what I’m thinking. Now get some rest,’ he advised, his tone discouraging further questioning. ‘You look tired.’
And that was that.
‘If I’m tired then it’s your fault,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve been working ridiculously long days to give you the reputation of a saint.’
She settled down in her seat, watching as Zander flipped open his laptop and started to work on a spreadsheet.
His stamina was awesome.
She wanted to question him more but her eyelids felt heavy and she was suddenly so tired that she couldn’t do anything except snuggle into her seat.
She slept soundly, waking to find that they’d landed and the sun was shining.
Groggily she struggled upright, moved the blanket that had been placed over her and looked for Zander.
He appeared from the back of the plane, freshly shaved and immaculately dressed in casual trousers and an open-necked shirt.
‘You’re awake.’ He said something in Greek to the stewardess and then gestured towards the rear of the cabin. ‘Feel free to use the bathroom to freshen up.’
Lauranne stared down at herself in dismay. ‘I can’t see your Kour-Kor—whatever his name is, dressed like this.’
Zander smiled. ‘Then change.’
‘Into what? You didn’t give me time to pack, remember?’
‘Select whatever you wish.’
She stared at him suspiciously and then walked to the back of the plane, pushing open a door that led to an amazingly well equipped bathroom, complete with a dressing area where several outfits hung from a rail.
Zander strolled up behind her. ‘Most of our luggage is packed, but hopefully something there will meet with your approval.’
‘Most of our luggage?’
‘Of course.’ He gave a casual shrug. ‘If we are arriving together as a couple, then so should our luggage.’
‘And if I’d refused to come?’
‘Then whoever unpacked my cases would have thought that I have strange taste in clothes,’ he said dryly, glancing at his watch with a frown. ‘I need to make a phone call.’
Lauranne showered quickly and selected a simple linen dress in a warm shade of peach.
By the time she’d reapplied her make-up and secured her hair at the back of her head, the doors of the plane had been opened.
Zander was talking to his pilot but he broke off as she approached, his dark eyes glittering.
‘Nice dress.’
She glanced down at herself self-consciously. ‘It fits really well. How did you know my size?’
He gave a wicked smile. ‘That is not a question to ask me in public, agape mou.’ He nodded to his pilot and stood to one side so that she could walk down the steps.
