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“I’ll give you one hour,” she said grudgingly, pushing out of the car as another suited man approached to open her door.
Anastasios didn’t respond.
A valet took his car keys and then, they were walking across the tarmac. She frowned, looking around.
The idea that he might be leading her to an airplane was so preposterous it didn’t enter her head as a credible possibility at all, until he gestured to a jet with a huge golden X emblazoned across the tail.
She stopped walking and crossed her arms. “Absolutely not.”
“We need to talk.” His voice gave nothing away.
She let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah? Well, we can talk here. Or there. Or anywhere that’s not a private jet, for crying out loud. You must be delusional to think I’d get on that thing with you. For all I know, you’re planning to throw me out a hatch when we reach cruising altitude.”
“Tempting,” he growled. “But I think that would only draw more media attention, not less.”
“Then where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere we can talk privately,” he muttered, looking around as if to remind her there were staff milling. “Get in the plane.”
She gaped at him. “I cannot believe anyone can be as arrogant as you are! Do you really think you have the right to boss me around like this?”
He leaned closer, dangerously close, and spoke into her ear, so her pulse trembled. “Sleeping with my father changed the ballgame considerably.”
“How many times do I have to tell you—,”
He pulled back, lifting a finger and pressing it to her lips. “This is not the place.”
Her eyes flared wide as warring emotions clashed in her belly, desire chief amongst them.
“Be that as it may, I respectfully decline your ‘invitation’.”
“To hell with that,” he ground out, lifting her to cradle against his chest, just as he’d threatened to earlier, so she was stunned into silence. His long strides carried them both across the tarmac, the inclement sky casting him grey shadow.
“Damn it,” she whispered, as he drew closer to the plane—and airline staff. “Put me down.”
“Will you walk onboard yourself?”
Her lips compressed in a mutinous line, denial obvious in her expression, and to her surprise, he tilted his head back on a laugh.
“In that case, what option do I have?”
“Not kidnapping me?”
“You agree you don’t want this story to hit the tabloids?” He asked, drawing to a stop. “You must have some family of your own you want to protect from this? The idea of you having a relationship with a man almost four times your age…”
“I don’t have any family,” she said quietly, then, realizing she’d admitted more than she wanted, focused back on the point at hand. “In any event, there is no story here.”
“The tabloid thinks there is.”
“They’re wrong.”
“So what do you want to do about it?”
She stared up at him, searching for an answer to that, but the truth was, she had no personal experience with this, and no concept of how to handle the media.
“I can’t think when you’re carrying me like this,” she muttered. “Don’t you care what people think?”
“No,” was his immediate, cynical reply. “And they will think I’m bringing a lover onboard for the purpose of pleasure. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”
