She purposefully turned away from Sebastian, who was looking more attractive than anyone had a right to in a pair of aviation sunglasses, jeans that lovingly hugged his thighs and a dark blue long-sleeved Henley. Despite the casual look, everything exuded more money than she could earn in a month. She was on the verge of asking what they were waiting for when three dark, sleek town cars pulled onto the runway in an almost hypnotising procession.
They pulled up in a line beside the small jet and a man got out of the back of the middle car with a large black duffel bag handcuffed to each wrist. Sia watched, incredulous, as the man nodded to Sebastian, walked up the stairs, deposited the bags apparently in the back of the aeroplane and returned to the back of the middle town car, upon which all three of the sleek vehicles resumed their balletic procession and left the airfield.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she tossed over her shoulder as she approached the stairs.
‘What?’ Sebastian asked, clearly finding it difficult to keep the laughter from his voice.
‘You did that on purpose.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything in those bags more important than kitty litter,’ she ground out.
‘To a cat owner without kitty litter they’d be pretty important,’ he said, following her up the stairs and into the cabin.
As she poked her head into the surprisingly spacious area in the cabin and she rolled her eyes at the ridiculous duffel bags, each strangely strapped into a seat, her mobile phone vibrated in her pocket for the fourth time that morning.
‘Please,’ said Sebastian, ‘don’t let me stop you.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Are you sure? It could be important. And you won’t be able to answer it in flight.’
She retrieved her phone and switched it off in front of him. But the problem was that she knew it probably was important. It had to be for Bonnaire’s to have called her four times in the last hour and a half.
But they had suspended her. They had suspended her, and it didn’t feel right. After the conversation with Sebastian the night before, she’d played the last meeting with her boss over and over again in her head. Why hadn’t David been able to access her folders from the initial assessment? Why hadn’t Abrani had the authentication papers to hand? He’d said he’d passed them onto Sean, but it was highly irregular to separate the papers from the painting. And she’d not seen them when she’d got back to Bonnaire’s. And now she couldn’t access the files to see if they had ever been there. But if they weren’t, if they never had been...then Bonnaire’s and Sean would have knowingly auctioned a painting without authentication papers, which was not exactly illegal. But the certificate of authentication acted like a sales receipt. It meant that they couldn’t be sure that the Sheikh had come by the painting through legal means. And Bonnaire’s shouldn’t have been doing business under those circumstances. But they had.
‘Please, sit where you like,’ he said, cutting into her thoughts, before heading towards the cockpit.
She looked about her, trying to work out where she should sit. She waited for a moment for Sebastian to return from speaking to the pilot, but he didn’t. Frowning, she gingerly made her way towards the cockpit and knocked on the door.
‘Enter.’
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded the moment she caught sight of him sitting in the pilot’s seat.
‘Flying us to the Caribbean,’ he said with a smile that she was sure had dropped a few panties in its time.
‘Ah...no. No, I don’t think so.’
‘You’re more than welcome to follow on a commercial flight. I can have Benjamin book you a seat. You’ll only be about fourteen hours behind me, but I’m sure you won’t mind,’ he taunted.
She was going to need a dentist by the time these fourteen days were up, she was clenching her jaw so much. She cast an eye across the vast number of little lights, some of which were flashing, some white, some red, all of which were too many for her to take in.
‘I am a fully qualified pilot. We have blue skies, calm winds and should have a good flight time.’
The space was small, even with the two pilot seats and...steering wheels, not that she thought they were actually called that.
‘Sia.’ His tone called her attention back to him. ‘I can fly this plane. And I promise you, if you want to get the commercial flight—’
‘No. No. I...ah...’ she laughed a little ‘...I trust you. In this I trust you,’ she said, realising that she did.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why?’
‘That must have hurt.’
She couldn’t help but slap him on the arm, an action that momentarily surprised them both.<