“Thank you.” I flash him a quick smile to disguise my ridiculous suspicions.
He opens the rear door, and I climb in. He follows, settling next to me and shutting the door.
The car moves smoothly along the asphalt, passing by shuttles, an airline catering truck and a huge jet bearing an Air Asia logo.
“Would you like something to drink?” the man asks.
Startled, I look his way and see a selection of alcohol and juices laid out on a built-in shelf. I don’t really want anything, but I haven’t eaten. Well. I did, but nothing stayed down…
“Orange juice, please, if you have any.”
He pulls out a bottle from the silver ice bucket and twists the cap for me. I murmur my thanks and sip the juice. My throat is still raw, and the acidic drink burns on the way down. After a few mouthfuls I put the cap back on and place the bottle in the cup holder.
The car finally stops. My guide clambers out first and holds open the door. I climb down, then stare at a sleek private jet gleaming under the airport’s huge halogen lights.
“What is this?”
I might be young and naïve, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Airlines do not put you on a private jet just because there’s been a problem with your flight.
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. Maybe my crazy imagination has been right all along. This really is some elaborate scheme to kidnap me. I take a step ba—
“Ava.”
Every cell in my body freezes at Lucas’s voice. I spin around and see him walking toward me.
He’s changed into different clothes, too. The undone collar of his black shirt shows the strong column of his throat and a hint of muscular chest. His black linen trousers fit him perfectly, hugging his lean, tight hips and thickly muscled legs. He looks expensive, aloof and untouchably self-possessed.
What the hell is he doing here?
Blood roars in my head, my stomach churning. It’s good that I didn’t drink more of the juice. I turn to the man from the airport.
“I can’t fly on that jet.”
He frowns. “But…your assistant arranged…”
My assistant? Hysteria bubbles inside me. “I don’t have an assistant.”
“But—”
“I’ll take it from here.” Lucas hands him a few bills. The white background and brownish ink tell me they’re thousand-baht notes, worth about thirty bucks each. “Thank you for your help.”
The man smiles, his face relaxing into a jovial, pleased mask. “My pleasure, sir. Have a good flight home.”
He gets inside the SUV, and the car pulls away.
“No!” I take a couple of steps after the vanishing vehicle.
Lucas’s hand circles my wrist. “Too late. They’re not coming back.”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I rage, yanking my arm. But his hold on me is like a manacle.
The dark eyebrow cocks, slanting arrogantly. “Is it so wrong to want to reduce the carbon footprint?”
The non-sequitur brings my brain to a screeching halt. I can’t process what he’s trying to say, and my panic recedes into the background for the moment.
“What?”
“Your ticket’s gone, and I have extra room on my jet.”