She scrunches her face and tries to poke me again, but I push my arms up, blocking her path.
“I’m out of here.” She tries the door handle again.
“Um, you know he locked the door, right?”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Shut up, ok? I’m having a rough day.”
Her words make my face crack with a smile, but I quickly replace it back with the mask of a man who’s on a mission.
Jeremy pulls into the airport lot, passing the hangars until he arrives at the one on the end where my private jet waits to fly me out of New York.
When the car comes to a stop, I step out, fixing my suit and tie from the tussle I had in the back with Mia. I comb a hand through my hair as well, knowing it’s most likely sticking up on all ends.
Mia sits in the car, not moving.
I lean my head into the backseat. “Are you coming?”
She crosses her arms, turning her face away in protest as she stays in her spot, tapping the floor with her feet.
“Really? You’re going to be a baby right now?”
This temper tantrum isn’t a new thing. She’s pulled this pouty move on me many times before when she’s wanted to expand the restaurant’s business. Little does she know, I objected to keep the restaurant the same as to fly under the radar, so to speak. Any other day I’d find this cute as hell, but not today.
Her head whips to me, and I swear I see flames in her eyes. “You kidnapped me.”
“Technically, yeah… but...”
She doesn’t let me finish my sentence, which is a good thing because I’m not sure what I was going to say that could make this any better. She scoots out of the car, her arms still crossed.
It really is a sight to behold.
“I’m not talking to you until you take me to my father’s house.”
I shut the door. “It’s going to be a long and quiet flight, then.”
She walks into the hangar and I follow behind her. “And I’ll take food on the plane. I’m hungry.”
“Isn’t the one doing the kidnapping supposed to make the demands?”
She spins around, her little finger poking me in the chest again. I’m seriously thinking about breaking it off her dainty hand. “Listen to me, Mr. Sebastian Cain. Once my father hears about this, he’ll make sure you’re…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
But I’m completely interested in what she was planning on saying. “He’ll what?”
She steps closer and hisses, “He’ll make sure you’re dead.”
“Oh, Mia. Stop being so dramatic.”
This pisses her off and she spins away from me. I laugh a little, because I will not let this little mob princess get her way with me. I’ve seen the way Mia gets what she wants from people. She’s beautiful. I won’t lie about that. Long brown hair that touches a taut nice ass. A body that makes a man like me fantasize about all the ways she can bend and wrap those long legs of hers around me. She’s young. I’m nearly thirty-seven and she’s barely twenty-one. She’s got her father wrapped around her tiny finger. She has most people wrapped there.
It’s her eyes. Big. Innocent. Full of passion. I’ve seen the way other men look at her. It’s why I implemented a strict no fraternization rule at the restaurant. No way would I let any of the men at work touch her.
Hell, I’ve thought about touching her. Plenty of times.
It’s sometimes kept me up at night, knowing it’s wrong to think about her tight little body. The swell of her breasts. Her pouty fucking lips.
I swipe the thoughts away, trying my best to get to the plane before I grow hard and do something I’ll regret.
This isn’t about me and Mia right now. This is so much bigger than that. I need her help to clear my name.
“Sir, the jet’s fueled and ready to go.”
“Great,” I say to the maintenance guy near the plane.
Jeremy backs the car away, and boards the plane as I lead Mia to the jet, knowing I’m going to have to drag her onboard. She won’t go willingly.
“Get on the plane, Mia.”
She stomps her little foot into the ground. “Seriously, Sebastian, this isn’t funny anymore.”
“Get on the fucking plane.”
“No.”
This silly game ends now.
I step closer, grabbing Mia around the waist and hoisting her over my shoulder.
She screams and slams her fists into my back, but I keep climbing the staircase into the jet.
“Mr. Cain,” Jill, the flight attendant, says, a bottle of whiskey in her hand. “Everything’s all set.”
I deposit Mia into a seat and strap her in. She’s kicking and screaming, while reaching out to Jill for help. Little does she know Jill won’t help her. I’ve trained her well. I’ve trained my whole staff to suit my needs.