As I lurch upward, heading after her, I catch the sneers that the young guys next to me are sending my way. I lean over, purposely using my height and sheer size.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
Then I grab my beer and stomp off after Margot, my brain still doing cartwheels, trying to figure out what just happened between us.
Chapter Eighteen
Margot
Istep off the luxurious private jet onto the tarmac, pulling my sunglasses onto my face. Kristiansund spills out beneath my view like an inky puddle; I can see the coastline spreading out a couple of miles down from where I’m standing, bright green grass meeting the cobalt blue sea. In the distance, I can make out yellow and red and white cottages.
This looks like a sleepy little fishing village.
I shiver against the wind. We’re so far north in Norway that the weather is quite brisk. The flight attendant is right behind me with my bags. I try to take them at the bottom of the stairs.
“Here, let me help,” I offer.
I can immediately tell from the puzzled look on his face that I’m not actually supposed to take my bags. When he speaks, his English sounds clipped. He’s Finnish or Norwegian, maybe.
“Let me take them over to the car for you,” he says, smiling despite his bafflement. In his tidy-looking steward’s uniform, he is the very picture of propriety right now.
“Right,” I mutter, trailing along behind him. Raising my eyes to the limousine that awaits me, I allow myself to be ushered into the back. “Thank you!” I manage to call to the steward.
He tilts his head and a vaguely disapproving expression appears on his face. He inclines his head. “Have a pleasant journey, Miss Keane.”
I never even got his name.
That’s what I think about while the limo takes me down into the village, down cobbled streets as little white and yellow houses zoom by my view. That, and how I got here.
The note is still in my tote bag.
Come with me for the weekend.
Pack a bag. — S
Five hours later, feeling remarkably hassled even though I was just on aprivate jet, here I am. The limousine pulls to a halt outside of an adorable little red cottage and I get out, heaving a sigh.
Stellan called. He’s my assignment.
That’s the reason I came. Theonlyreason. After parting ways the other night, I didn’t hear from him for five days. Five interminably long days.
I wasn’t entirely sure I would hear from him ever again, period. And yet here Stellan is, opening the door when I knock. He smiles coolly, stepping back and welcoming me in.
“Come on,” he says, his lips carefully pursed. “Don’t let all the heat out.”
My nose twitches at the tone of his voice; he soundscommanding, not inviting. Heaving another sigh, I walk into a cozy, bright kitchen area. It’s all done in teal and baby pink, a decorator after my own heart.
The driver leaves my bags by the door and leaves without a word. Stellan just skirts around the marble kitchen island and heads out of the room. I hate when he expects me to follow him without asking any questions.
Grinding my teeth, I trail his wake into a living area. Sunlight spills into the room from a window that stretches almost from one wall to the other. A bright white couch sits against the wall to my far right, piled high with cozy-looking afghans and soft pillows. To my left is a little table that doubles as a chess board and two chairs pulled up to it.
Straight ahead, I can see that there is a hallway, probably containing the bedrooms and the bathroom. Stellan is already throwing himself onto the couch, so I pull one of the chairs out. Sitting down, I cock my head at him. “So?”
He squints. “So what?”
A huffed laugh leaves me. “I’m here. You summoned me after putting me on the back burner for most of the week. Now what?”
He scrubs a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I don’t have any plans. I just had a really busy week, so…” He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s the only reason I didn’t call you sooner.”
