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He nodded, and for a split-second I thought I saw a flash of excitement behind his stoic brown eyes. He pointed toward the doorway with his spoon.
“Better get packed and ready then,” he told me. Reaching out, he usurped my coffee. “We leave within the hour.”
An hour!
I jumped up, and headed straight for the door. Stopping dead in the hallway, I poked my head back into the kitchen.
“It’s going to be cold, isn’t it?”
Elliot took a sip of my coffee without looking up from his phone.
“It’sIceland, Jordyn,” he sighed. “In October.”
Thirty-Three
JORDYN
It was my first time in a Citation, and my first trip on a private jet. Both were exciting, but not nearly as thrilling as the cockpit tour I received from the pilot on our way across the icy Atlantic.
Elliot spent almost the entire trip with his head buried in his laptop, so I made sure to leave him alone. Whatever deal he was cooking up seemed to require all his attention, and he looked busy enough that I didn’t want to get in his way.
Instead, I spent the time relaxing, snacking on refreshments, and learning about the state-of-art avionics built into the Cessna jet’s cockpit. I also looked up Iceland a few times, because I knew absolutely nothing about the place.
Oh, except that it was going to becold.
We landed so smoothly it didn’t even feel like the wheels touched down. Disembarking via a set of rolling steps, I pulled my coat tightly around my shoulders as a chill wind swept over the parking ramp.
“There,” said Elliot, pointing. “That’s your ride.”
There were two limousines waiting at the base of the ramp. The man on the right took his hat off and tipped it my way.
“My ride?” I asked, confused. “Aren’t you—”
“Coming later,” he said as he moved in the direction of the first limo. “Don’t worry, I shouldn’t be long. I’ll meet up with you at the hotel.”
By the time I turned to say goodbye he was already ten steps away. I watched as he ducked into the first vehicle without looking back, then rolled away slowly while the wind whipped my hair against my face.
“Miss?” The other chauffeur looked freezing, even if his accent was exotic and cool. “Step inside? It’s warm, I promise.”
I let him usher me into the limo, where it was indeed warm and comfortable. With the door closed and the wind trapped on the other side of the glass, I stared out through the frozen window at the snow-swept landscape all around me.
Damn. This is beautiful.
“Where in Reykjavík are we staying?” I asked when the man had taken his place behind the wheel.
“You’re not staying in Reykjavík,” he informed me.
“Oh? But Elliot said something about a hotel—”
“The hotel’s less than an hour from here,” the man said, blowing into his hands. He rubbed them together before putting the vehicle in gear. “You just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
It was getting dark, and by the time we neared our destination night had already fallen. I was wide awake, though. We might’ve lost five hours in the air, but my body was still in early afternoon mode. That said, the entire ride was bleak. After we’d passed through the tightly packed but low-slung buildings of the capital city, the next forty-five minutes was a vast, winding stretch of pretty much nothing. Darkness surrounded us in every direction.
“You’re not taking me out into the middle of nowhere to hunt me down or anything?” I asked casually. “Like in those really twisted movies?”
The man glanced back in the rear-view mirror and raised an eyebrow. “Hunt youdown?”
“Never mind.”
