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She couldn’t argue with his logic, but she wasn’t going to let him get his way that easily. “You’re so used to having your way,” Maria muttered. She glanced out the window and saw that they were about to fuel the plane. “You toss money at a problem and expect it to go away. You don’t actually work toward anything, do you?”
Tessa cleared her throat, but she ignored her. Jarik raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that you’d have work for me to do during the flight. As you’ve said, this is not a passenger plane.”
“Double the money, and you work for me when we land. If you agree to volunteer in the camp, help me unload the cargo, then you have yourself a deal.”
Jarik cocked his head as he stared at her. “I have an appointment in Lebanon. Outside of that, I’m all yours.”
“Really?” She cringed inwardly at her squeak of a response.
“You’re not giving me much of a choice, are you?” A small smile played on his face. “It might be fun.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she groused. “I’m going to do a final systems’ check. Make yourself comfortable, Sheikh Shadid, and buckle up. These planes aren’t built for comfort, so you can expect a rough ride.”
Winking at Tessa who was still staring at her open-mouthed, she settled in the pilot’s seat. Putting on her headset, she started to do the final check for all her instruments. “This is Flight 237 requesting permission to takeoff.”
“Flight 237, there is a snowstorm brewing fifty miles into your flight. Air control recommends that you stay grounded.”
“Not happening, boys.”
There was a chuckle on the other side of the headset. “All right, Flight 237. You’re cleared for takeoff.”
Settling back in her seat, she gripped the control wheel and relaxed. Soon she’d be up in the air, flying high above the evils on the ground below. It was one of the few times that she ever felt at peace. Maybe she’d even forget the gorgeous man who’d just hijacked her plane with money and a dazzling smile.
* * *
Jarik listened to the women chat up front, and as much as he wanted to learn more about the beautiful pilot, his mind was whirling.
Sheikh Jibreel, the Crowned Sheikh of Al-Harmid and his father, would throw a fit if he knew what Jarik had just done. Even his older brother, Kashif, wouldn’t be pleased, but he really needed to get to Lebanon. Kivi was his responsibility, and there was no way he’d allow that man to walk away from everything he’d done. His family had to at least understand that.
It was easy enough to get away undetected. This time of the year, the three brothers tended to go their separate ways. Samir, the youngest, was on his way to party through Europe. The rake of Al-Harmid had a reputation to uphold. Kashif was on his way to America to compete in some ridiculous dog-sledding race, and Jarik had simply told his father that he needed some time away.
He could envision Kashif, his no-nonsense brother, accusing him of tilting at windmills, telling him to leave the outlandish behavior for their younger brother, Samir.
But, in good conscience, he simply couldn’t let this go. Nor could he tell them what he was up to. If his brothers found out, it would start a fight between them. While that might have been fine when they were teens, this was too important. Besides, it was not as if they had any sort of vested interest in his plans. Granted, it would take him away during the holidays, but that didn’t bother him in the slightest. Christmas no longer brought him the joy it did as a child.
He briefly thought about his mother. Born and raised in The Netherlands, she had loved everything about Christmas from the decorations to the music, and she had insisted on maintaining the traditions in her married life, celebrating Christmas lavishly in their home every year. His father had indulged her love of the holiday while she was alive. She was the glue that had kept everyone together and with her gone, their father had retreated into himself while the brothers had quickly drifted apart. What used to be a joyous time of the year was now an easy excuse to be away from each other. Not that they needed much of an excuse.
Forcing his bodyguard to lie wasn’t easy, but money did talk. After that, it was simply a matter of slipping away to the trial and getting back before anyone knew what happened.
God knew that if they figured out that he was heading to Kivi’s trial, they’d never let him live it down. Kashif had been adamant that the family not be involved any more than they already were. He was more interested in damage control than doing the right thing, but that didn’t sit well with Jarik and he wasn’t going to let it go. Not until justice was served.
The plane rocked back and forth, as they hit some turbulence, and Jarik immediately glanced toward the cockpit. Despite the warnings from the airport, the flight had been relatively smooth so far, and Maria and her friend were relaxed. The wind didn’t seem to bother them any, so he leaned back against the window.
Maria Walken. After getting a copy of her flight manifest, he’d done a quick cursory internet search of her. Eleven months out of the year, she was a private cargo pilot, but in December, she turned into Santa. With her brother, she headed up Christmas Crates. It was a noble idea, but from what he could tell, the charity wasn’t doing very well lately. Their reputation was growing increasingly tarnished.
He knew she’d cave to his offer to buy a seat on the plane at a very high price. She needed that money even if she hated taking it. Jarik dealt with people like her all the time. They despised the wealthy and brandished their own flaws like a weapon. It wasn’t Jarik’s fault that he was born wealthy. It also wasn’t his fault that they lived in a world where money made things easier. It was a tool that he was skilled at using when it suited his needs, and he was happy to do it.
Unlike most people, Maria was trying to make a difference in this world. In theory, she should love people with money. After all, she needed them if she was going to have any hope of succeeding in her endeavors. Donations made the charity world go round, and the rich were more than happy to throw their money around if it made them feel good. For her to be this closed off, borderline snappish, meant that something more was up. For some reason, this grudge against wealth was deep seeded in her, making her view him with automatic suspicion. And that was a shame.
The memory of her tight body rubbing against his on the bus had him rising back up to attention. He wasn’t lacking in female attention, and despite what he’d told her on the bus, a beautiful woman shouldn’t have been enough to harden his cock.
But there was something about her. He’d seen her running after the bus and paid the driver to stop to pick her up. There was something compelling about the determination in her eyes and her curls flying behind her as she ran.
It was a good thing they had been in a public place because it had taken all his control not to cup her ass and lift her up until he pressed into the apex of her legs to watch the desire darken her eyes.
Taste her. Lick her. Make her moan.
He chuckled at the thought, glad that the women couldn’t hear him over the roar of the plane’s engines. The point of taking a public bus was to blend in, and he had a feeling if he’d acted on his desires, it would have made a memorable moment, which probably would have culminated in him getting arrested. Something he could ill-afford. Not if it meant that Kivi could find out he was coming for him. The man had spies in all the right places, which was why Jarik had chosen a route no one would suspect.
