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Asshole.
I hate him. I hate him so bad. All he had to do was acknowledge that his assumption was wrong, and we would both be happy. But no. He couldn’t do that. He refuses to give me even an inch.
I don’t reply. There’s no point. Not when he’s this stubborn and pigheaded. Instead, I snort loudly, letting him know what I think of his opinion. No matter what he believes, thisinterventionis neither needed nor wanted.
As I expect, he reacts to my snort with a stern look that warns me, in no uncertain terms, to behave. And if I missed the facial cues, the way he clenches and relaxes his fist before flexing his hand leaves me in no doubt about what will happen if I dare to snort again in his presence. He keeps quiet though, and I’m grateful. I’m not in the mood for any more scolding, and I don’t trust him not to humiliate me in front of everyone here if I lose it at him and say something he doesn’t like.
The line moves slowly. The people snaked up and down the aisles are mostly quiet now, some holding conversations in hushed voices, others glued to their phones. Some travellers look stressed. Some look excited. Others, like me, just look bored. I keep my phone firmly in my purse. I don’t want to speak to Richard or my father, and if I contact my friends, it will be to say goodbye. And I don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. I don’t want to cry in the middle of the airport, and that’s exactly what willhappen if I start texting people. I’ll text them once I’m in New Zealand. Or, if a miracle happens and I get to go home, I’ll text them then. But I’m not texting them now. I’m broken enough without making myself any more upset.
CHAPTER 6
Jaxon
Jade’s relief when I shield her from the photographers is palpable. If her sigh of relief doesn’t give it away, her body language does. She visibly relaxes, her tense, hunched shoulders lower, her grim expression loosens. Even the small of her back where my hand rests relaxes. She feels safe with me.
I keep close to her the whole time we are waiting to board, my senses constantly on high alert, scanning the crowd. We’re somewhat safer now, having been through security, but still there are no guarantees. Thanks to the newspapers and internet, Jade’s face is everywhere, along with the reminder that her father is rich and powerful and will stop at nothing to get her back—making her a prime target. I can’t take any risks. I can’t relax for a second.
I breathe a sigh of relief once we’re on the plane. We’ve done it! I’ve got her safely on board an aircraft bound for New Zealand, without incident. I can relax!
Except I can’t. I should have known, really. I should have known it wasn’t going to be this easy.
“I can’t believe Richard is making me do this,” Jade grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”
There’s barely any room between my knees and the back of the seat in front of me—centimetres, at most. Jade has a few more centimetres, being smaller, but my shoulders are so broad they spill over the top of my seat and into hers. I should probably feel mildly guilty about that, but I don’t. I’m far more squashed than she is; I’m snug against the armrest that separates us. She’s at least got a bit of wiggle room. Our bodies are close. A combination of sexual tension and general pissy-ness crackles in the air between us. She ignores the eyebrow I raise in warning. I need to nip her grumbling in the bud now, before it causes issues on the flight. The paparazzi would have a field day if Jade gets us kicked off the plane.
To her left, a middle-aged lady has headphones on, lying back with her eyes closed. Good. Hopefully she’ll be oblivious to Jade’s theatrics that I’m pretty sure will come. I’m certain it’s too much to ask for Jade to just travel quietly, without any fuss.
Not long after the seatbelt signs have gone off, a tall, well-groomed flight attendant flashing a cheery smile walks down the aisle, stopping every few rows to chat to the passengers. She catches my eye and smiles and beside me, Jade stiffens, glaring.Crikey! Am I not allowed to smile at a pretty lady?
It takes all my self-control not to drive my elbow into her ribs. But I have to admit, her jealousy is cute. Annoying, but cute.
“If there’s anything we can do for you to make your journey more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask,” she purrs, her voice smooth as silk.
I’m pretty sure Jade is going to ask for something, but the words that come out of her mouth shock me.
“How about a bit of space?” she snaps at the poor, unsuspecting flight attendant, glaring fiercely at her for good measure. “This is ridiculous! Do you know who I am?”
“Jade!” I hiss, giving in to the urge to jab her in the ribs. Despite my very clear warning, she doesn’t shut up.
The flight attendant gives her a blank look. I fix Jade with a stern stare, silently telling her in no uncertain terms to behave. She meets my eye. She knows exactly what my look means. She deliberately ignores me.
“I’m Jade Owens,” she tells the flight attendant haughtily, looking up at her like she’s a very important person. “Andrew Owens—CEO of Owens Productions—is my father.” The flight attendant maintains her blank stare. She’s doing it on purpose, I think. Surely she’s seen the headlines?
“The movie producer?” Jade tries again to use her status to her advantage, but the flight attendant’s professional mask doesn’t slip. She has my utmost admiration; my self-control is slipping fast.
I don’t know if Jade notices, but the lady sitting next to her obviously doesn’t have her headphones turned up very loud, because recognition passes quickly across her face, followed by disgust. I feel a brief pang of pity for Jade; the media was not kind to her. But my pity doesn’t last long. Jade’s still staring at the flight attendant demandingly, making no secret of the factthat she truly believes her status—or rather, her father’s status—entitles her to things other people don’t have. Like free first-class upgrades.
“Behave,” I lean down and whisper sternly in her ear.
Instead, she flashes her sweetest smile at the flight attendant. “I’m not used to being so cramped. Can we be moved to first class? Please?”
So she does have manners! I’m almost impressed. Almost. The flight attendant is not. Her smile has faltered a bit now and she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry, but the plane is full. You will need to remain in your booked seat.”
“But it’s cramped!” Jade’s protest is shrill. Loud. That high-pitched childish tone that echoes and grates on my every nerve. Everyone near us cranes their heads to look, to see what the commotion is all about. Jade doesn’t look even remotely embarrassed. She should. She should be totally mortified. But she’s not.
“Shush,” I hiss in her ear, smiling up at the flight attendant and dismissing her with a wave of my hand. The hand that I used to whack Jade’s ass in Richard’s—or her father’s—office this morning. The same hand that’s itching to spank her again now.
“Thank you, we’ll be fine,” I assure her, and she smiles gratefully and continues her journey down the aisle, her cheery expression back in place. She’s probably made a mental note to stay well away from row 27. I would, in her place.
