‘You… You bastard!’ she shouted, again. ‘I hate you…’
‘I’m aware,’ he managed, rubbing his stomach, and feeling a lot less impressed with her throwing arm. ‘Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you there,’ he said, because he needed to get her strapped in before they began to taxi.
The stubborn frown remained. ‘Zurich!’
It was his turn to frown. ‘You’re kidding—the press will be all over you there. Plus, Galicos has financial interests in Switzerland. Your father could leverage them to get you back.’ Exactly how naïve was she?
‘I don’t care. It’s the only place I have connections my father doesn’t know about.’
Except she had him.
But from her mutinous expression he could see that would have to be an argument for another day, when the plane swung onto the runway.
‘Fine, Zurich it is,’ he lied. He’d never had an issue bending the truth whenever necessary. It was a skill he’d learned as a kid, lying through his teeth to everyone and anyone, so no one would know his father was long gone and he and his brother were living without parental supervision—and call in the authorities.
The princess needed a protector. And while he was nobody’s knight in shining armour, and his motives weren’t exactly altruistic, there was no reason why their goals couldn’t align. Plus, he could see the awareness darkening her eyes and turning her dewy skin to a dusky red—which meant they could enjoy their time together, once she got over being mad with him. He’d have to figure out a better destination—because his estate on Kefalonia was probably out of the question, too. Andreas couldn’t get to Freya there, but why risk a diplomatic incident when he didn’t have to?
Andreas was famous for hating any kind of public drama—because of some scandal involving his ex—which meant he was unlikely to inform the press or the police. If he knew where they were though, he could use other means to get Freya back. And Theo planned to have the upper hand when he informed the guy he had his daughter—and she wasn’t marrying Faron.
‘I’ll tell the pilot our destination, but only once you’re strapped in.’ He glanced out of the window. ‘Because we’re about to take off.’
She didn’t look convinced. ‘You promise you’ll take me to Zurich?’ she demanded.
‘Absolutely. One hundred per cent.’ He crossed a finger over his heart and gave her his ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ expression. Something he’d also perfected as a boy, for the tourists—most ofwhom had never realised it was the angelic-looking kid with the grubby face and the sweet smile who had lifted their wallets.
She glared at him. ‘One thing I know is that I absolutely don’t trust you one hundred per cent.’
Smart girl.
‘Noted.’ The plane jolted as it picked up speed. She lost her balance, and he grabbed her. ‘Enough talk, let’s get seated before we land on our asses again.’
She was still glaring, but he’d managed to fasten her seat belt and his own just before the plane hit maximum velocity and tilted back to surge into the sky.
She stared out of the window. The lights of Galicos twinkled below them, then disappeared beneath a bank of cloud. He watched her shoulders slump and heard the hefty sigh over the engine noise. She scrubbed her fist across her cheek. And that strange jolt hit him square in the solar plexus again.
Was she crying? Exactly how bad had the last three months been for her? Because he was beginning to wonder if the prince was as much of a monster as his own father—just with more power and influence and a fancy title to legitimise his cruelty.
‘You okay?’ he asked, unable to lock the weird jolt in the box marked ‘not your business’.
Her head whipped round, and he noticed the sheen of emotion in her eyes… But that the misty emerald was defiantly dry.
‘I will be, if we actually arrive in Zurich,’ she said haughtily.
‘About that…’
Her eyes narrowed dangerously again, but he braced himself, ready to rip off the plaster and take his punishment like a man. ‘We’re not going to Zurich.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘You…You…’Freyawas so furious she had lost the power of speech.
Theo Caras was kidnapping her.Again!
‘You can’t do that… You swore!’ she spat out, so outraged she felt light-headed. But when he sent her a look that simply said ‘yeah and what are you going to do about it?’ she realised how lame that sounded. This was not a man who cared about the promises he made, or the ones he broke. He had no moral code, no loyalty to anyone but himself. He was arrogant, cynical and a complete bastard. And she’d willingly climbed aboard his bike—and let him cart her aboard his plane like a sack of potatoes without putting up enough of a fight.
Now she was utterly powerless again. And there was something worse about the way this man had toyed with her than the autocratic way her father had always behaved. Because for a moment, while she’d been clinging to him on that bike, he had been her salvation.
You’re such an idiot, Freya. You know you can’t rely on any man. Especially one with power.
